by Annie Murray
‘Floss!’ He tried to get her to turn to him again. ‘Don’t say that! It ain’t like that, you know I’m yours. I wouldn’t carry on like that!’
‘Are you?’ She turned her head, eyes welling with tears. ‘How can I ever know you’re really mine when I’m struggling on here, trying to make ends meet and I never know if I’ll see you again or not? You just pick me up and put me down like a toy.’
The sight of her tears wrung him out. He felt sorry and protective and guilty all at once. And once again, aching with arousal.
‘Don’t, Floss! I know it’s hard for yer. I’m doing my best. I’ll see if I can find yer a bit more money but it ain’t easy with four mouths to feed. You know I’m yours and I won’t leave yer. I just need a bit of time. Cynthia’s – well, she’s not at her best and if I tell her right away . . . You’ll have to give me a bit of time.’
‘But can I trust you?’ She turned to him, big-eyed. ‘You really mean I matter to you as much as she does?’
Once again she had him so that he would say anything, promise her anything, he was so overpowered by her. His other life faded away as if it had all been a dream and he was here in Flossie’s arms, kissing her, wanting her all over again, and making promises, helplessly.
Cat’s Cradle
Forty-Four
‘For Christ’s sake, woman, let a man get into his own house!’
‘So, when’re you going to go and get her?’ Dot demanded, her feet planted firmly on the doorstep as he came in from work.
They’d all been told Cynthia was coming home soon, but so far nothing definite had been done. Dot was torn between worrying for Cynthia’s health when she returned and anger with Bob. She thought he was putting it off because he was still tangled up with that woman. Her guess was pretty accurate and, for the children’s sake, she couldn’t let it go on. Every day Em’s eager little face looked up at her saying, ‘D’you think Mom’s coming home soon?’ And all Dot could say in reply was, ‘I expect so, love. We’ll have to wait and see.’
Bob made as if to get past her but Dot dodged and stood stubbornly in his path.
‘I asked you a question. When’re you going to go and get your wife?’
‘Arrangements are being made.’
‘Oh yes? What, by you? Listen, Bob, if anything’s happening you’d better tell your kids. They’re on pins waiting. And as for me, I’d quite like to know too since I’m ruddy well bringing them up for yer!’
Bob tutted. ‘Next Sat’dy,’ he murmured, avoiding her eyes.
‘What?’ Dot landed a punch against his shoulder in her exasperation. ‘You mean Cynth’s coming home on Sat’dy and you ain’t said a word to any of us?’
‘That’s what I said.’
Dot stood back and let Bob open the front door, which he tried to shut in her face but she pushed her way in. Knowing that the girls were safely out of the way in her house she didn’t hold back.
‘Look, I don’t know what you think you’re playing at, Bob. You’re not living in the real world. You’re a bloody disgrace! Cynthia’s coming home and you’re in and out of that floozie’s house day in, day out.’
‘Don’t call her that!’ he flared up.
Dot’s temper frayed quickly as well. She gave him a bawling-out with the fluency born of bottled-up anger.
‘I’ll call her what I bloody like, and what suits her! She’s a scheming trollop, and if you can’t see it you’re a bigger fool than I thought. Now either you tell her it’s all over or I’ll do it for yer, and I wouldn’t want to be in her shoes if it’s me does the job. You may not care a fig about your wife and kids, but Cynthia happens to be my best friend and I’m bloody well going to see she’s all right and not let you drag her any further down. And don’t you forget it. When I think what she’s been through while you’re just . . . just playing around. You’re not the only one who misses her, yer know.’ To Dot’s consternation her voice cracked as she spoke and she was fighting back her tears. ‘You’re better than this, Bob.’ She was struggling to speak and not start blarting. ‘I don’t know what’s happened to yer.’
Bob stared at her, not seeming to have it in him to fight back. He looked confused and miserable. Dot softened a little. She’d always been fond of Bob, the handsome so-and-so, however much of a fool he was.
‘You’re a stupid bugger,’ she said gruffly, turning away to wipe her eyes. ‘For the love of God, get yourself sorted out. Do us all a favour.’
Later that evening, Bob went out again. Dot watched him hurrying along the street, weaving between the gaggles of children.
I hope I’ve managed to drum some sense into him, she thought, and he’s gone to tell her where to go. She had promised Bob she’d tell the children their mother was coming home. He even seemed reluctant to do that.
She walked into number eighteen and beckoned the children, sitting Joyce on her lap while the other two stood by her.
‘I’ve got summat to tell yer,’ she said gently, a smile on her lips.
‘Is it about Mom?’ Em asked eagerly. They were ready to drink in her every word.
‘Yes, your dad’s going to bring her home on Saturday,’ Dot announced, to their gasps of excitement. ‘So before then we’ll have to make the place sparkling as a new pin for her, won’t we?’
Em’s face was aglow with happiness. ‘We’ll clean everything from top to bottom!’ she cried. ‘Let’s start now!’
Dot smiled fondly. It was lovely to see the child’s little face lit up, bless her.
‘It’s only Tuesday, bab,’ she said. ‘And it’s too late tonight. There’s plenty of time.’
‘Oh, I want it to be Saturday now,’ Joyce said.
‘Tell yer what,’ Dot said, pushing Joyce’s fringe out of her eyes, ‘I’ll give you all a haircut for the occasion as well!’
‘Oh no!’ Sid protested.
‘And make sure you’ve got clean necks and ears,’ she went on, making Sid groan even more. ‘You’ve got to look your best for yer mom, haven’t you? Now, I think it’s time for you to go up the wooden hill and get some sleep.’
‘I’ll never sleep,’ Sid said. ‘I’m not going to sleep till our mom comes home!’
Dot smiled and led him upstairs to tuck him in, seeing his eyelids growing heavy as soon as his head touched the pillow. She leaned down and stroked his hair.
‘Goodnight, son.’
Going to the girls’ bed, where Em and Joyce were cuddled up together, she smiled down at them.
‘Hope the bugs don’t bite.’
And she went downstairs, the smile giving way to a more pensive expression.
God, Cynth, she thought. I hope you’re going to be all right. For everyone’s sake.
The children were in a state of high excitement all week. The news that Mom was coming home, at last, was all Em could think about. As soon as she got home from school on Wednesday she spent the afternoon scrubbing and cleaning and Molly stayed in to help her.
‘Mrs B says she’s going to make your mom a coming-home cake,’ Molly said as she swept the bare floorboards in the children’s bedroom. Molly had soon been allowed to call Jenny Button ‘Mrs B’ and she announced the news proudly, as if Mrs Button was her real mother – of whom mercifully there had been no sign for over a week.
‘That’s nice,’ Em said smiling. She felt bubbly inside with excitement. Everyone was being so kind! It was even fun cleaning the house when she and Molly did it together. Life was looking so much better at last!
But the next afternoon, something upsetting and frightening happened.
The bell clanged at the end of school and soon the children of Cromwell Street School were pouring out along the streets towards their houses. Em and Molly got ready to go together. Katie O’Neill stuck her nose in the air as if there was a smell when they passed her and they both completely ignored her. Molly still had her problems, but Mrs Button kept her spotlessly clean and in clothes which let her be the young girl she was instead of appearing premature
ly grown-up.
The two girls headed out into the spring sunshine, their heads close together, chatting away.
‘I’m gunna do the downstairs today, clean out the scullery and everything,’ Em said. ‘I want it all to look perfect for our mom so she never has to do anything!’
‘We could sweep the yard as well,’ Molly suggested. ‘Mrs B’s got a big hard broom and she’d lend it to yer.’
‘And I’ll clear out the cupboard . . .’
Neither of them noticed anything until the long shadow fell over them and Molly shrieked as her arm was grabbed and bent back brutally behind her.
‘Got yer!’
Em screamed in shock seeing Iris Fox looming above them, teeth bared in angry determination.
‘You’re coming with me, yer little rat!’
‘No I’m not!’ Molly cried, starting to fight her off. Em was in shock and couldn’t move. ‘I’m not coming with yer. I hate yer. Gerroff me!’
Iris bent until her face was level with Molly’s, at the same time taking a handful of Molly’s hair and jerking her head back.
‘Just you listen to me, yer little vermin. Think you’re bloody clever, don’t yer, running off like that. Where’ve yer been? Which of this bloody interfering lot’ve been hiding yer, eh?’ She gave a savage tug on Molly’s hair, making her cry out. ‘Go on – tell me and I’ll go and have a little word with ’em.’ These last words were spoken with a savage sneer.
‘No!’ Molly twisted this way and that, trying to escape. But the pain and the vicious rage of her mother seemed to be draining away her will.
Other children were staring but no one dared stop or challenge Iris Fox. Most of them knew of her bullying ways, and if they didn’t, the sight of her heavily built frame would have put them off.
‘Let her go!’ Em shouted, amazed at her own daring. ‘She doesn’t want to come home with you. She’s stopping here!’
‘Oh-ho – who asked you?’ Iris gave a big, nasty laugh. ‘Whoever said anything about ’er coming home with me, eh? I’ll put her in the bloody home for orphans and criminals, that’s what she needs! Any more trouble from you – ’ once more she yanked on Molly’s hair – ‘and that’s where yer going. Now come on.’
‘I don’t want to go with you, I want to stop ’ere!’ Molly wailed, all her courage breaking down. She burst into sobs as her mother dragged her off down the street by her hair. ‘Em, help me!’
‘Shut it!’ Iris slapped her. ‘And you can all stop bloody gawping an’ all!’ she bawled at the appalled faces watching her. ‘Ain’t yer got anything better to do, yer nosy buggers?’
Em had no idea what to do. She followed for a short time, but she knew there was nothing she could do to rescue Molly. Molly gave up struggling as well and trailed along with her mother. She even gave up looking back and they disappeared in among the clusters of other people along Bloomsbury Street. Em stopped. Her legs were shaking. There was only one thing to do.
She hurried back and burst in through the door of Jenny Button’s bakery.
‘Goodness, what’s got into you?’ Mrs Button said, before seeing the horror in her face. ‘Oh my Lord, what’s happened, bab?’
As Em poured out what she’d just witnessed, Jenny Button sank onto the stool behind the counter. Her face, which lately had been blooming with a new happiness, tightened, and a light in it died.
‘Oh dear, oh dear,’ she said, shaking her head. Any hope Em had had that she could do something also died then. ‘Well, I don’t know if we’ll see her again. I can’t snatch her away from her own mother, can I? Even if I knew where they were. Just as she was beginning to calm down in herself a bit too . . .’ Half to herself, she added, ‘I’m frightened for that child, that I am.’
Forty-Five
Saturday came, of course, and the moment they had all dreamed of – Mom home!
‘So, here she is!’
Bob ushered Cynthia in through the front door, both their hats beaded with raindrops, and the three children stood together in the front room, well scrubbed up with their hair trimmed into abrupt fringes by Dot, all suddenly overcome with shyness. Bob put Cynthia’s little bag down behind the door.
‘Well, ain’t yer going to come and say hello?’
Cynthia’s eyes drank them in, shining in her thin face. She held out her arms, and it was Joycie who ran forward first, as ever, to be cuddled. When it was Em’s turn she pressed her face against her mother’s wet coat and stood there quietly for a moment, her eyes closed.
‘Let yer mother sit down, then,’ Bob said gruffly. ‘I expect she’s tired, coming all the way over here.’
They went through to the back and he put the kettle on. Cynthia did as she was told and sat at the table. The habit of obedience, of trying to please, had grown in her in the hospital. Once she was feeling a little better it had seemed the best route out. She looked around her.
‘Everything looks very nice.’
‘We’ve been getting everything ready for you all week,’ Em said proudly. ‘And Dot came today and helped again – she’s always helping, and Mrs Button gave us the flowers for you.’
On the table was a jar of some of the last narcissi of the season from the pots in Jenny Button’s yard. Cynthia smiled. ‘That’s nice of her. I’ve got a lot of people to thank.’
Em thought Mom seemed a bit slower in herself, but at least she was smiling now, not crying all the time, and that felt a lot better.
They sat and drank their tea and then there was a tap at the door.
‘Coo-ee – can I come in?’
‘Course yer can, Dot,’ Bob said, jumping up. He was all smiles and suddenly couldn’t seem to do enough to please.
‘I thought I should let you all be by yourselves, but I couldn’t keep away any longer!’ Emotionally, she flung her arms round Cynthia. ‘Welcome home, love, we’ve all missed yer like anything.’
‘Thanks, Dot,’ Cynthia said, watery-eyed. ‘It’s good to be back.’
‘How d’you feel?’ Dot stood with her hand protectively on Cynthia’s shoulder, looking down at her.
‘All right. I’m perfectly all right,’ Cynthia said cheerily. Then added, ‘Well, I feel a bit funny, I s’pose, but there we are. Early days.’
‘Yes – early days!’ Bob agreed. ‘Cuppa tea, Dot?’
‘Yes, ta.’
‘I need to pop out – just for a few minutes.’ His voice came from the scullery. Em saw Dot’s gaze burning into him as he came out, but she scarcely paid any attention, so caught up was she in being near her mother now she was here.
Bob left the gaggle of women and children gathered round the table and slipped out. Cynthia didn’t question where he had gone.
‘These kids of yours have been marvellous,’ Dot said. ‘Specially Em here – she’s a little gem – a real good’un. Grown up no end, she has.’
Em squirmed, blushing with pleasure. Although it was nice to be approved of, she knew she’d learned to stand up more for herself now as well.
‘It’s going to be funny, getting back into harness.’ Cynthia spoke lightly, but there was an edge of panic to her voice.
‘Take it slow,’ Dot said. ‘And don’t you worry, bab, we’ll all help you, won’t we, Em?’
Em nodded. ‘I’m used to doing everything, Mom, washing and cooking and cleaning. All of it! I’ll help you!’
Cynthia’s eyes filled with tears at the sweet eagerness of her daughter. ‘That’s lovely, bab. Only you shouldn’t’ve been left with so much.’
‘Dot helped me.’
‘You’re golden, Dot.’
Dot was watching her anxiously. ‘You going to be all right, Cynth?’
‘Oh yes,’ Cynthia said shakily. ‘Course. I’ll have to be, won’t I?’
Bob couldn’t stay in the house, not like this, not until he’d done it. Seeing Cynth there like that, home for good – well, he’d known it was coming, of course, but it was a shock. It was what he most wanted, deep inside, but he was terrified all
the same. What was she going to be like? Had he got his wife back, or the stranger who had left for Hollymoor, who had been lost to him in her misery? He hadn’t been able to let go of Flossie, not yet. He had felt he would drown without her. Every night he’d slipped out and gone to her in a fever of need. Even now as he hurried down the road to her house to do the thing that had to be done, the right thing, there was something pulling him back, saying no, don’t let her go, you could go to her and be happy with her . . .
But the sight of Cynthia and Dot at the table, and all the tension inside him, sent him out to do it now, while he had the courage.
On Flossie’s doorstep he was panting with nerves, as if he had been running. His whole body jumped as the door opened. Flossie’s usual wary expression shifted quickly to surprise, then seductive pleasure.
‘Bob, I didn’t expect to see you!’
‘Let me in, Floss. There’s summat I’ve got to say to yer.’
It was no good mincing his words. He didn’t know if the kid was listening somewhere nearby but it was too bad. If he slowed down now, let other things slip in between, he’d lose his nerve.
‘My wife’s come home, Floss. It’s no good. I’ve got to give this up. We’ve got to stop.’
‘Stop, Bob? How d’you mean?’
He wrung his cap between his hands. ‘Don’t make it any harder, Floss! This is bloody awful. But I’ve got to stop calling on yer, being with yer. You know what I mean. I’m a married man. I’ve got to go home and try and look after my wife.’
He didn’t know what he expected. At least for her to protest, for there to be tears, or anger and spite. But he had to hand it to her, she was a woman who could remain in full command. Her manner was calm. She took in a deep breath and looked at him very directly, saying, ‘Well, Bob, I’m very sorry to hear what you’ve got to say. I always knew you had a wife, of course, but you did lead me to believe that she might not be coming home again. You obviously misled me there. Especially after, well, after this week.’