Molly stole a minute to watch them from the top of the yard steps. When she was satisfied they seemed to have accepted what she’d told them, she went upstairs to Georgie.
Like all big boys, he kept his tears for when he was alone, and now she found him crying into his pillow.
Sitting on the bed, she made no move towards him. Instead, she assured him, ‘Your mammy does still love you all, but she had to go away. I’m so sorry, Georgie, but you know I’m still here for you. I’ll be your mammy for as long as you want.’ Lifting his face from the pillow, he crept along the bed to where she was sitting. For the briefest second he looked at her, the tears swimming down his face, and his eyes red raw. Then his mouth began to tremble and he was in her arms.
‘You won’t leave us, will you, Molly?’ he pleaded. ‘Don’t go away like Mammy did, will you, Molly? Don’t leave me.’
Her voice breaking with emotion, Molly told him she would never leave them. ‘Not for as long as I live.’
If she had any regrets about sending Alfie away, they melted in that little boy’s arms. ‘You’re my lad now,’ she whispered, ‘and I wouldn’t hurt you for the world.’
But she had hurt Alfie – and for that she would never forgive herself.
* * *
When Rosie came round with news of Alfie an hour later, she found Molly and the children laughing and playing in the yard. ‘You’re like a big kid, so ye are!’ she called down. ‘Now, Molly, I’ve something to tell ye, so I have.’
Leaving the children making the snowman, Molly made her way up to the scullery. ‘By! It’s freezing!’ Rubbing her cold hands together she took off her coat and scarf and draped them over the sink. ‘Now then, what’s all the excitement?’
Having dumped her coat and hat in the passageway, Rosie set about making tea, chattering away as she worked. ‘I’ve had another letter from Alfie. He’s in for his first big fight next week. They’re putting him up against a fella called Arnie Wild.’ Laughing, she quipped, ‘We’ve only to hope he’s not as wild as he sounds, eh? Oh, but what good news, lass. His grandaddy can’t sit still. Ever since we got the letter he’s been like a cat on hot bricks, and now he’s off down the Working Man’s Club to tell the others.’ She rolled her eyes to the ceiling.
‘Oh Molly, at long last Alfie’s doing what he really wants. And not on the streets neither, but in the ring, inside, where he should have been all along. Isn’t it wonderful news, lass – our Alfie up against the big American fighter, proper money and no running when the police come round the corner. And all under the eye of a professional trainer, too.’
Molly agreed, though she was pleased and sorry at the same time. She thought of all Alfie’s sacrifices, and hers, too. At least they hadn’t all been for nothing.
Handing Molly her tea, Rosie was surprised when it was refused. ‘Oh, come on, lass, ye must be froze. The tea will warm ye up, so it will.’
Apologising, Molly took the tea. ‘Sorry, Rosie, and you’re right – I am froze.’ Sitting down at the table with her friend, she asked quietly, ‘What else does he say?’
Now, seeing the look on the girl’s face, Rosie was mortified. ‘Oh, may God forgive me!’ she cried. ‘I clean forgot, so I did!’ Clasping the small hand in both of hers, she shook it gently. ‘Here’s me, blabbing on about how he’s up for a fight, and there’s you, wondering how he is, and missing him like nothing on earth.’ Fishing the letter out of her pinafore pocket, she gave it over to Molly. ‘It’s a bit long, but then he always has a lot to say.’
With trembling fingers, Molly unfolded the letter, her eyes misting over as she read:
Hello Mam,
How are things at home?
I’m sorry it’s been an age since I’ve written, but I’ve not had a minute to call my own. I’ve been working hard at the gym. I’ve got a new trainer, Gus Baines, and by God, he’s a real slave-driver! I’m up at four and in bed by nine, with nothing but training in between. But I’ve never been so fit in all my life.
I’ve had a couple of low-key fights, and won them both, but they were nothing to get excited about. They were just practice for the big one, and now the date’s set I can’t wait. The big day is 2nd January.
It’s so different from the street-fighting. It’s real big business, Mam. Everything is so professional. It’s all worked out right down to the last detail; the venue, the timing, who’ll be there and who won’t. I’m not kidding you, Mam, thousands of pounds change hands every minute. If I win this fight, it’ll be money in the bank, enough for you and Grandaddy to come out for a long holiday, and plenty more left to buy me a place of my own.
The trainer says, with this one under my belt, I can name my own price. They’ll be lining up to meet me, and, if all goes well, I’ll be in the big-time before you know it.
Here, the mood of his letter seemed to change:
I’ve been missing you and Grandaddy. I never thought I’d get used to being so far away from home, but I’m settling down now.
I hope you’re both well. Have you seen Molly lately?
I hope she is happy with her new bloke. She’s a lovely person, and deserves a good man to take care of her; someone with a regular job, who can give her the things she should have.
I imagine her mam is out of hospital and doing well?
Give them both my regards when you next see them, and give the kids a hug for me.
Lots of love. Take care of yourself,
Alfie.
‘He sounds so excited.’ Caressing the letter, Molly was loath to let it go. ‘I’m glad for him.’ She smiled, but the smile never touched her heart.
‘He asked after you,’ Rosie pointed out. ‘He still thinks of you, darlin’.’
Handing back the letter, Molly nodded. ‘I know.’ But it didn’t seem as if he still loved her; not in the way she loved him. ‘He seems to have got over me,’ she said. ‘I’m glad about that, for his sake.’
‘We’ll see.’ Rosie was not so sure he had got over Molly. And she knew for certain that Molly was not over him.
Molly’s mind flew to where he was. Would she ever see him again? she wondered. Would she ever feel his arms round her and hear him whisper in her ear?
It didn’t seem likely. She had sent him away, and now she had no rights to him.
She could not blame Alfie for that.
‘Molly?’ Rosie called her name for the second time.
The girl had been so deep in thought she hadn’t heard. ‘Oh Rosie, I’m sorry.’ She pushed Alfie from her mind. ‘I was miles away.’
‘Aye.’ Rosie’s heart went out to her. ‘As far away as America, with our Alfie.’
Molly smiled sadly. ‘Did I do right?’ she asked. ‘Sending him away like that?’
Rosie gave it some thought. ‘It was right for him, lass. Wrong for you. But, in the circumstances, I don’t see what else you could have done. If you’d kept him here, he would have insisted on taking care of you, and that would have meant either leaving the children with your da, or Alfie taking them on as his own. He’d have had to get a job in the cotton mills and hated every minute of it, but he would have done it for you and the kids.’
‘And grown to hate me for it.’
‘No, Molly, he would never do that.’
‘But his soul would be destroyed and it would have been me who did that to him.’
‘You just asked if you’d done right in sending him away,’ Rosie pointed out. ‘I think you’ve answered your own question, lass.’
‘Thank you.’ It was what Molly needed, to be reassured that she had made the right decision, for Alfie, if not for herself.
A moment later, Molly went out to the back yard. ‘I think it’s time you came in now,’ she told the children. ‘You’ve been out long enough in the cold.’
Her suggestion was met with a wall of protest. ‘Not yet, please.’ Georgie spoke for all of them. ‘We’ve got to make another snowman, for Eddie.’
Eddie was in his pram, clapping his hands and la
ughing as they rolled the snowman’s belly up, bigger and bigger. His nose was red and his eyes were watering, but he was happy enough.
A quick check of his little hands and face and Molly thought a few more minutes would not hurt. She wiped his nose and gave him a hug, and warned the others, ‘Ten minutes and you’re all inside, whether you like it or not. Right?’
They all shouted together, ‘RIGHT!’ Smiling to herself, Molly left them to it.
‘I told them for sure this morning that their mammy was not coming home,’ Molly said to Rosie as the two of them went back inside. ‘They were really upset… tears and tantrums, and Georgie took it ’specially bad. Seeing them now, laughing and having fun, I haven’t got the heart to bring them in.’
They glanced at the children through the window. ‘They’re such good kids,’ Molly said softly, her love for them evident.
Rosie agreed. ‘I’d rather have your little ’uns than our Sandra,’ she confided. ‘She’s more trouble than all them put together.’
‘What’s she been up to now?’ It was ages since she’d seen her friend properly. Molly hoped Sandra didn’t blame her for the split with Alfie. As she talked, Molly returned to the parlour and stoked up the fire. If the room was cold when her da came down, there’d be hell to pay.
Rosie followed her through. ‘I’m at my wits’ end,’ she grumbled. ‘It’s all to do with some bloke she’s going with. One minute she’s all lovey dovey about him, and the next he’s telling her he means to end it, and she wants to kill him. One night she came home with a black eye. I swear, love, if it goes on like this, I’ll away and see this fella wherever he is, and lay down the law, so I will!’
Clambering up from the hearth, Molly was horrified. ‘A black eye! This bloke hit Sandra and she still wants to go out with him? By! She must be mad.’
‘That’s exactly what I told her, but will she listen? No, she will not!’
‘D’you want me to have a word?’
‘Sure, I don’t know as it would help. You know what she’s like, but yes, I’d be grateful if you could give it a try.’
‘Is she still in bed?’
Rosie nodded. ‘Out to the world, and it’s not surprising, seeing as she didn’t get home till the early hours. From what I could get out of her, she couldn’t find this bloke so she went on to some pub or other and got herself pie-eyed.’ Rosie was at the end of her tether. ‘How she got home on her own two legs, I will never know. Anyway, I put her to bed, and there she is, sleeping like the innocent.’
Molly could see how upset Rosie was. ‘Dad’ll be up and out by twelve,’ she calculated. ‘If you come and keep an eye on the young ’uns, I’ll pop over and have a word with her.’ Remembering how upset Alfie’s grandaddy was when he heard the news of her and Alfie splitting up, she asked warily, ‘Will Mr Noonan be in?’
‘Don’t worry, lass. Like your da, my da will be off down the pub soon as ever they open.’ She knew why Molly was wary and reassured her. ‘In any case, he’ll not say nothing to you, lass. Course, he was led to believe you left Alfie for another fella – I haven’t told him otherwise. He was upset as you know, but he seems to be over that now, so don’t worry.’
‘I don’t blame him for thinking I’m a right little tart.’
‘He was just disappointed. He always thought you and Alfie belonged together. It was a bit of a shock, that’s all. Then, when he found out your mam had gone, I have an idea he’s put two and two together. But he’ll not say anything – I can promise you that.’
Molly thanked her. ‘Michael’s a good man,’ she said. ‘The last thing I want is to fall out with him.’
‘Oh, sure he’ll not fall out with ye, lass.’ She knew how Molly was already hurting from one thing after another. ‘I was meaning to ask: have you heard from Lottie lately?’
‘She writes every week. That was the deal when I let her go.’
‘And how’s she doing?’
‘Well, in the last letter she tells me she’s got a job with the woman on the coconut shy. She gets paid regular, whether the stall is busy or not, and they’ve made real good friends.’ Molly was glad about that. ‘It’s what Lottie needs… an older person to keep her in line.’
‘What about this fella of hers? Are they still getting on all right? Is he taking care of her like he said?’
‘She seems happy enough. Her letters are full of him.’
‘Where is she now?’
‘Yarmouth. But they’re moving on again the day after tomorrow.’
‘Seeing the world, eh?’
‘Looks like it, Rosie. As long as she’s happy and writes me every week, I’ll not go looking for her.’
‘Well, she’s turned sixteen now, lass.’
But Molly’s thoughts had already moved on. ‘Rosie, do you remember that little idea we talked about before?’
‘What… being errand girls, you mean?’ Rosie had a wonderfully simple way of putting things.
‘That’s the one.’
‘What about it?’
‘I thought we might start up sooner rather than later.’
Rosie nodded knowingly. ‘I see. Money getting a bit tight, is it?’
‘You could say that.’ Molly had few secrets from Rosie. ‘Getting money out of Dad is like squeezing blood from a stone, and what with me not earning now, it’s difficult. I did have some money saved from my last job, but it’s nearly all gone. I’m already having to lie to the children when they ask for their favourite little treats.’
‘I can see no reason why we couldn’t give it a try.’ Rosie was all for a gamble.
‘Good!’ Settling herself more comfortably in the chair, Molly talked it through. ‘We need a barrow, but we can’t spend good money on buying one straight off in case the idea isn’t such a good one after all. We really need to know if it pays before spending what we haven’t earned.’
‘That makes sense, so what do we do? We can’t hump great bags of stuff from the market, and besides… what if we have more than one customer? It’s no good turning them down, because that’ll finish it before we’ve even started.’
Molly chuckled. ‘I have an idea.’
Leaning forward, Rosie gave a half wink. ‘Go on then, let’s hear it.’
‘We can use Eddie’s pram.’
‘What, with him in it?’
‘Course! Where else would he be?’
‘What, in his pram? With bags of spuds and carrots and the dear Lord knows what else?’
‘Why not?’
‘Poor little mite!’
Molly laughed out loud. ‘It won’t be so bad,’ she said. ‘The groceries and such will be up one end of the pram, and Eddie up the other. We won’t suffocate him if that’s what you’re worried about.’
‘I should ruddy well hope not.’ Seeing the funny side of it, Rosie couldn’t help but smile.
‘So – what d’you reckon?’
‘It’s worth thinking about.’
‘But will it work until we make a bit of money and can get a barrow?’
Rosie thought for a minute. ‘Well, it might, if the good Lord wills it.’ She laughed out loud. ‘Mebbe we should ask the lad what he thinks, eh? He might not like the idea o’ sharing his pram with a pound o’ smelly fish.’
‘Happen we’ll offer him a share of the profit. He’s a sensible fella. He knows a good thing when he sees one.’
The conversation ended in laughter. ‘I’d better go,’ Rosie said, ‘before I’m as daft as you!’
‘See you later then.’
‘I’ll be back soon after twelve. She’ll be out of that bed even if I have to drag her out by the scruff of the neck.’ With that Rosie marched off, leaving Molly glad it wasn’t her who was about to be ‘dragged out by the scruff of her neck’.
* * *
After Rosie had gone, Molly ushered the children in and gave them a hot drink. ‘It’s the last of the cocoa till I get to the shops,’ she warned, ‘so make the most of it.’ Sitting Eddie in his high-c
hair, she fastened a bib round his neck. ‘When you’ve finished that, you can all sit down by the fireside and warm yerselves.’
‘Aw!’ As usual, Milly had something to say. ‘We wanted to go out and play in the snow again.’
‘You can want on,’ her big sister answered firmly. ‘Snow or no snow, you’re not going out any more today.’
‘Let’s play hide and seek!’ Bertha cried. ‘Go on! I’ll count to ten. Go on! Go and hide!’
Taking Eddie with them, they ran from one room to another, upstairs and down, one minute screeching and the next silent as church mice. ‘Take care not to hurt your little brother,’ Molly told them, and smiled when she saw his little legs running to keep up, his hand in Georgie’s and a big smile on his dear little face.
Grateful for a few minutes to herself, Molly went into the scullery and prepared the Sunday dinner: mashed potatoes, rabbit pie and cabbage. There was jam tart for afters and custard to go with it.
With the vegetables ready to cook on the stove, and the pie in the oven, Molly turned her mind to the ironing.
Washing her hands, she took the flat-iron and a block of wood from the cupboard, then returned to the parlour. Positioning the wood block on the table, she placed the iron cradle on top and took the iron to the fire, wedging it firmly between the coals. That done, she fetched the ironing basket from the stairs cupboard; the clothes were piled so high she could hardly see over the top. ‘God! It’ll take me weeks to catch up with this lot.’ Somehow the work had piled up, and yet she never seemed to stop.
Setting the basket down by the table, she turned on the wireless and sat by the fire. In between the children’s excited screams, she listened to the news. There was talk of a first military round-the-world flight, and an outline of the weather for the next few days. There was going to be a thaw: ‘Brighter, drier weather expected,’ it said, ‘but a smattering of snow for Christmas.’ Molly thought that would put a smile on the children’s faces.
Looking Back Page 19