The Girl From Barefoot House
Page 4
For the second time that night, Josie’s eyes filled with tears. She’d never seen Mam so drunk before – legless, Maude called it. ‘This chap was legless,’ she said once. ‘He gave me a pound note in mistake for ten bob.’
If only she were bigger, Josie thought fiercely, bigger and stronger and older. She’d chase the men away, drag Mam home and forbid her to touch another drop of drink again.
‘Come on, Josie. I’ll give you a piggy-back.’ Suddenly, she was lifted in the air and found herself clutching the soldier’s neck. To her surprise, he smelled of scent. His hair was very fair and bristly. As they walked towards Huskisson Street, he told her his name was Roger, and he had a sister, Abigail, who wasn’t much older than she was. His friend was Thomas – not Tommy or Tom, but Thomas. Thomas’s hair was dark, and he had a small moustache, like a hyphen in a book. They were both quite good-looking, good-humoured and, she had to concede, boyishly nice. They were completely different to the visitors Mam usually had, and she wondered if they were just seeing her safely home.
When they reached Huskisson Street Roger put Josie down, and helped his friend half drag, half carry her mother upstairs. Mam was giggling helplessly, and by the time they got to the second floor Josie sensed the men were getting angry. They were no longer boyish, and not the least bit nice, and said horrible words like ‘bitch’ and ‘whore’.
‘This had better be fucking worth it,’ Thomas swore.
They reached the attic room. Mam was roughly pushed inside and the door slammed.
Josie sat at the top of the stairs and waited. Her clothes were wet from the rain, and little needles of fear pulsed through her body. The house was very quiet for a change. She went down and knocked on Maude’s door, but there was no answer. Upstairs again, she wished Teddy were there as she watched the stars, pale and unblinking, appear through the skylight. Grey clouds scudded past, concealing then revealing the tiny pricks of light.
The attic door opened. Roger emerged in his shirtsleeves and took her arm. His grip was painful. ‘You’ll do for a shag till Thomas has done,’ he muttered.
She didn’t understand. He pulled her into the room, and she went willingly because she wanted to be with her mother, make sure she was safe. She no longer trusted the men she’d thought so nice.
Through the high window, the final remains of daylight offered enough illumination to see the naked figure of her mother lying face down on the bed, moaning softly. Thomas, half-dressed, was riding her like a horse, almost galloping. Josie felt a sickly throbbing in her stomach. Still unsure what was happening, she was roughly flung on the bed and Roger crawled on top of her. She felt his hand reach underneath her frock, but she ignored it, concerned only for Mam, whose face was turned towards hers, only inches away, her eyes screwed close. Was Thomas hurting her? Josie wriggled away from Roger’s groping hands and touched her mother’s cheek.
‘Are you all right, Mam?’ she asked tenderly.
Mam’s eyes slowly opened, the merest crack. Then, in quick succession, they flickered briefly, closed, snapped wide open and grew very bright and alert. Josie’s blood turned to ice when a sound emerged from her mother’s throat that was barely human. She growled, and the growl became a howl, and the howl became a roar. She gritted her teeth, took a deep breath and raised herself on all fours like a wild animal.
Thomas was flung off the bed on to the floor. Mam turned over, raised her feet and kicked Roger in the chest. He was thrown against the wall with a sickening thud, then slid to the floor beside his friend.
‘How dare you lay a hand on me daughter?’ Mam spat. ‘Get out! Both of you, get out!’
The men were momentarily stunned. After a while, they sat up and, breathing heavily, began to adjust their clothes. Thomas got to his feet. He approached the bed, grinning. ‘So, you want to play games, bitch? I know a good one.’ He grabbed Mam’s foot, but she shoved her other foot in his stomach, and he fell back, grunting.
Roger was up. He reached for Josie, and pulled her on to her back. ‘You hold the mother while I take the kid.’
‘Oh, no, you don’t, not while there’s breath left in me body.’ Mam leapt off the bed, and suddenly she was holding the bread-knife from Blackler’s bargain basement, holding it in front of her, the point aimed directly at Roger. ‘Let go of her, or I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you both, I mean it. I don’t care if I swing for it, you bastards.’
Thomas hesitated. Roger released Josie.
There were footsteps on the stairs and Irish Rose burst in, accompanied by a giant black man who was bare to the waist. Muscles rippled like dancing waves on his gleaming back. ‘What’s going on?’ Rose demanded.
Mam said shakily, ‘These men are just leaving.’ She waved the knife threateningly. ‘Aren’t you?’
The black man stepped forward. His dark eyes swept from the frightened child to the naked woman with the knife in her hands and the handsome young Army officers crouched against the wall. He nodded his giant head towards the door, and said mildly, ‘Git.’
And the two men went.
They were going back to Machin Street tomorrow, Sunday, straight after Mass. They would turn up looking as fine as fivepence – Mam was buying Josie a new frock that afternoon.
Maude was all in favour. She came up in her dressing-gown after breakfast to see how they were. Irish Rose had told her about last night’s events, and Mam announced they were leaving.
‘You should have gone a long while ago, Mabel,’ Maude said. ‘You can’t risk another night like last night, and the older Josie gets, the more likely it’ll happen. She’s as pretty as a picture, a real little Miss Pears, and getting more like her mam every day. It’s either that, or turning professional, getting a proper flat, like, and a maid to look after Josie. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, you could make a fortune on the game if you turned professional.’
‘I’ve no intention of turning professional,’ Mam said frostily. She looked surprisingly self-composed. Her face glowed and her mouth was set in a determined line. Last night, terrible though it had been, had brought her to her senses, made her see things clearly, she had said earlier. ‘It was always only temporary with me,’ she said to Maude. ‘The trouble was, I got stuck on the booze, but only ’cos I hated what I was doing. In the end, it became a vicious circle. Now all that matters is our Josie. Isn’t it, luv?’ She smiled vividly at Josie who was busy emptying the drawers of their well-worn clothes.
‘Yes, Mam.’ Josie was still not quite sure what Roger had intended to do when he threw her on the bed. After all, she was only a little girl, six, not a grown-up woman.
‘I’m chucking most of our stuff away,’ Mam said. ‘If there’s anything decent, it can go to the pawnshop with the crockery, the cutlery and the bedding. I’ll not redeem it, it’s just that I want to get our Josie a frock and a pair of shoes in Paddy’s market this avvy, and another few bob wouldn’t come amiss. I’m not having our Ivy turn up her nose when she sees us.’
‘There’ll be one helluva kerfuffle, Mabel,’ Maude said cautiously.
‘I know, but I’ve already made up me mind what to say. She’ll be given two choices – either she believes me, takes us in and gives his lordship his marching orders, or she doesn’t believe me, in which case I want half of everything, including the money that was left and the value of the house.’ Mam folded her arms on her chest and looked extremely fierce. Her eyes sparkled angrily. ‘I was fifteen when she chucked me out, up the stick and in a state. Now I’m twenty-two, and in full possession of me senses. I know what’s mine by rights. What’s more, I intend on having it. If necessary, I’ll threaten to have the law on her.’
‘Mightn’t it be a good idea to leave you-know-who with me while all this is going on?’ Maude suggested timidly. She appeared to be slightly in awe of Mam, who was becoming more forceful and aggressive by the minute. Even Josie found it hard to believe that this was the same woman who’d been legless in Upper Parliament Street the night before.
It was the best day Josie could ever remember, a day she never forgot, despite the fact it rained non-stop. It wasn’t just the lovely blue velvet frock that Mam bought in the market for a shilling, or the patent leather shoes that pinched a bit – but it didn’t matter because next week they’d buy a pair that fitted perfectly from Freeman, Hardy & Willis – or the three-quarter-length white socks with a curious knobbly pattern that were brand new, or the ice-cream cornet with a twirl of raspberry syrup on top that she ate in the rain on the way home. It was knowing that, as from tomorrow, there would be no more visitors and – this time she knew Mam truly meant it – no more drink. They might be living in Machin Street, or they might not. Josie didn’t understand the complications. She knew there was going to be a row and that she was being left with Mrs Kavanagh – which she was quite looking forward to. All she cared about was that things were about to change out of all proportion for the better. She skipped along beside her mother, and felt she could easily have burst with happiness.
Mam felt it, too. Every now and then she had a little skip herself, and even when she realised she’d pawned the bedding and they had to spend another night in Huskisson Street, like with the shoes, it didn’t matter.
‘If necessary, Petal, we’ll sit up all night and I’ll burn the last of the nutty slack,’ she laughed. ‘Or we’ll sleep on the bare mattress, and I’ll ask Maude if she’ll give us the loan of her eiderdown, and hope it don’t pong too much. She only uses it in winter. Mind you, it could be winter today, it’s so cold, yet we’re only just into September.’
When they got home, Mam cleaned every surface of the attic room. She brushed the rafters, brushed the walls, brushed the floor, dusted the sideboard, the table and the chairs. She turned the mattress over and blackleaded the tiny grate. Then she lit the fire, borrowed an iron off Maude, put it on the hob to heat and carefully pressed the brown tweed costume, cream blouse and white beret she’d been wearing when she’d left Machin Street, and which were still her bezzie clothes after all this time. She buffed her brown suede shoes as best as she could with the hairbrush. ‘We used to have a special brush for this in Machin Street,’ she said. ‘It were made of wire and called a suede brush. Oh, there’s so many things there, Petal. Just wait till you see them.’
When the iron was cool, she turned Josie’s new frock inside out and smoothed out the few creases.
‘There, that’s everything done.’ She put her hands on her hips and glanced with satisfaction around the room, at the dust-free surfaces, at her costume and Josie’s frock, hanging behind the door, their shoes placed neatly under the sideboard, at Teddy who was sitting on top of their gas masks, next to the brown paper bag containing Josie’s books and the money from the cocoa tin which was tied in a hankie. It amounted to two and threepence. ‘All that’s left is for us to wash our hair, which we’ll do later and dry it by the fire.’
Josie reminded her she hadn’t shaken the mat, so Mam climbed on a chair and opened the window. ‘Why, the sun’s come out, Petal,’ she announced joyfully. ‘It looks dead lovely out there. I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t mind a little walk. I’ve got dust up me nose and in me throat, and the fresh air will clear it. Where shall we go – Princes Park? It’s almost autumn, the trees might have started turning gold by now.’
‘Yes, but …’ Josie hesitated.
‘Yes, but what, my fragrant, my adorable little Petal?’ Mam leapt off the chair, danced across the room and caught Josie in her arms. She led them in a waltz around the bed. ‘But what, luv?’
‘Can I say tara to Tommy and Nora?’ Otherwise, she might never see them again. Our Lady of Mount Carmel was too far from Penny Lane, and even further from Speke and Kirkby.
Mam wrinkled her nose. ‘That Tommy’s a right scally, luv. I can’t understand how you can like him. His mam’s a dead horrible woman, she batters them kids something rotten. And did he tell you his dad’s in jail?’
‘No, Mam. But Tommy’s nice. He’s …’ Josie broke off, remembering the way Tommy had put his arm around her waist the night before, promising to look after her, the various athletic feats he’d done solely to impress her. She didn’t care if his mam was horrible or his dad was in jail. She shrugged. ‘He’s just nice.’
‘All right, luv,’ Mam said resignedly. ‘I suppose we could carry on into town, do a bit a window-shopping. We’ll get the tram home.’
Outside, the air smelled fresh and clean, and they both sniffed appreciatively. The pavements were full of puddles, and water streamed along the gutters carrying empty fag packets and sweet papers and pouring noisily through grids down to the drains.
Nora ran to meet them when they approached the Prince Albert. She took Josie’s hand, and Tommy did a perfect handstand against the wall. Mam tutted, either at Nora’s runny nose or Tommy’s showing off, Josie wasn’t sure.
Then Mam said, ‘I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to go inside and say tara to me mates. They’ll all wonder what happened if I just disappear.’
‘Mam!’ Josie said warningly, and suddenly wished they hadn’t come anywhere near the Prince Albert.
Mam merely laughed and squeezed her shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, Petal. I’ll just have a lemonade. I promise on me honour.’
Predictably, Nora, who cried at the drop of a hat, burst into tears when she understood she would never see Josie again. ‘Want Josie stay,’ she sobbed, which, Tommy said laconically, were her very first words. He’d tell his mam later, if he remembered.
It seemed Tommy couldn’t have cared less that she was going. He climbed the lamp-post and, turning his little monkey face away, refused to look at her. Josie didn’t feel hurt. She hoped he would find another girlfriend very soon. She had come prepared to buy him and Nora a present – the hankie with the two and threepence in was clutched in her hand. She’d taken it when Mam wasn’t looking because she didn’t think she’d approve. She’d get Nora a Mars Bar, and ten Woodbines for Tommy.
The air-raid siren went, but outside, in the sunshine, with people around, the sound wasn’t so terrifying as in the darkness of the night. It didn’t seem real. Tommy, perched on the lamp-post, showed no sign of having heard. Josie anxiously watched the doors of the Prince Albert, praying Mam would come. A man and two women came out and sauntered in the direction of the shelter. Then Mam opened the door and shouted, ‘Josie, luv. I’m going to the lavvy. I’ll be out in the twinkling of an eye.’
Josie trotted across to the sweetshop. A bell rang when she opened the door. Inside it was small and dark and smelled of tobacco. The walls were tobacco-coloured. Two were lined with glass jars containing a mouth-watering array of sweets. There was no sign of cigarettes on the shelves behind the counter, and it was only then she remembered Maude saying ciggies were harder to get than gold dust.
The old woman appeared from a room at the back, putting on her coat. ‘I’m off to the shelter, luv. I was just about to close up.’
‘Have you got any ciggies?’
‘No, and I wouldn’t sell them to you if I had. You’re too young.’ The woman smiled at her good-naturedly.
‘Can I have some sweets, then?’
The woman smiled again as she buttoned up her coat. ‘Sorry, luv, but I’m not prepared to weigh them out, not while there’s a raid about to start. I’m rather anxious to get to the shelter.’ She cocked her head and listened. ‘In fact, I think I can hear a plane now – it sounds
like more than one.’ She came from behind the counter and began to push Josie towards the door. ‘Come with me, luv. Hold me hand. You can come back for the sweets later.’
‘But I wanted …’ Josie turned to look at the bars of chocolate at the front of the counter behind a sheet of glass ‘… three Mars bars.’ One for herself, one for Nora and one for Tommy, though he would have preferred ten Woodies.
Suddenly, there was a high-pitched whine, which got louder and louder, and higher and higher, and the old woman, instead of pushing her out, was pulling her back, and she was shoved behind the counter, where she fell full length. The old woman landed on top of her, nearly knocking her out.
Then the whole world erupted with a dull rumbling sound, the floor shook, the windows shattered, a mighty wind raged through the shop and the bottles flew from the shelves. Something big and heavy thudded against the counter, wood broke, glass broke, the counter fell backwards with a creak and a groan, and propped itself against the shelves where the ciggies should have been. Josie and her protector were showered with shards of glass.
The rumbling stopped, the world stood still. There was, for a moment, silence. In that brief ensuing silence, Josie was sure she could have heard a pin drop. Then someone screamed, someone shouted, a child cried.
Nora! She prayed the child was Nora. If Nora was all right, then so was Mam. Surely. Please, God, please, God, make Mam be all right.
She tried to scramble to her feet, but the old woman said with bewildering calm, ‘Don’t move, luv. Let me edge out first. Careful you don’t cut yourself, mind. There’s glass everywhere.’
Mam, Mam, Mam! The word hammered through her head.
The woman was gradually crawling backwards, oh, but so slowly, too slowly. Josie felt the weight on her body ease. A minute later, ignoring the advice to take it easy, be careful where she put her hands, ‘Oh, mind out, luv!’, she was free to shuffle through the glass and the dozens of bars of chocolate that had slid off the counter. Her hands and arms were bleeding, she could feel glass in her hair. Her dress was torn. She didn’t care.