by Susan Lewis
‘What do you think of him?’ I ask.
‘Who? Uncle Maurice?’ He shrugs. ‘He’s all right.’
‘I don’t like him,’ I say.
‘Why not?’
‘I just don’t. I don’t think Gran does either.’
‘She has to. She’s his mum.’
‘What are you two whispering about?’ Jacqueline snaps, making us jump.
‘Nothing.’
‘Then go on upstairs Susan and fetch Uncle Maurice’s newspaper, there’s a good girl. He wants to have a read before the news come on.’
I feel like telling her to go and get it herself if she likes him so much, but I’m not brave enough, though I could have said it, because no-one ever tells Mum these days, when I’m rude. Dad didn’t even tell her when I said Father Christmas was just a silly old bugger who isn’t real anyway, so I couldn’t care less if I don’t have any presents for Christmas.
‘You won’t, if you carry on like that,’ he told me. ‘You’ll just get a thick ear and sent straight to bed.’
‘That’s your answer for everything,’ I said back.
‘Susan, don’t be difficult. All I said was, Father Christ mas might not bring you as much this year, because he’s got a lot of houses to get round.’
‘He can miss me out altogether if he likes, see if I care.’
‘Don’t be silly now. He’s not going to miss you out, he’s just going to concentrate more on the children in Africa who don’t even have anything to eat, never mind presents.’
‘Shall we make them some presents, for him to take?’
‘That would be a lovely thing to do.’
‘I can send them my pocket money too.’
‘We’ll see. But when we’ve got some time, we’ll think of what we can make.’
We haven’t made anything yet, because he’s never got any time, and everything I’ve tried to make on my own never looks like what it’s supposed to be. Dad said I might have a future as an abstract artist which made Mum chuckle and me mad, because I don’t like it when they use words I don’t understand.
Uncle Maurice’s bedroom’s a bit of a mess, with his clothes hanging out of his suitcase and the bed not even made. The paper’s on the floor, next to an ashtray that’s only got one cigarette end in. I don’t take much notice of it at first, then I realise it’s got red lipstick on the tip.
‘I told you he was strange,’ I whisper to Gary after I’ve delivered the paper. ‘He wears lipstick.’
Gary’s eyes go big and round. ‘That’s silly. Men don’t wear lipstick,’ he says.
‘They do if they’re Danny La Rue.’
‘But he’s not Danny La Rue.’
‘He might be like him though, you know, wearing women’s clothes and high-heel shoes.’
Gary giggles.
‘Ssh,’ I say, giggling too. ‘Come on, let’s go upstairs and see if we can find anything else.’
We creep up as quietly as we can, freezing every time a stair creaks, and holding our breath in case anyone hears. No-one does, but Gary stays on watch at the bedroom door while I go and have a look in the suitcase to see if there are any frilly knickers or ladies’ brassieres.
‘Huf, look,’ I cry in a whisper. ‘Nylons. He’s got nylons. See, I told you. And there’s a bottle of scent here too.’
‘Quick, I think someone’s coming,’ Gary says.
I drop the bottle and flee across the landing to Gran’s room.
We wait and listen, but no-one comes up the stairs.
‘He’s a queer,’ I whisper.
‘What’s a queer?’
‘A man who dresses up as women. And it’s against the law. He could go to prison if anyone found out.’
Gary’s eyes blink up and down. I can see he doesn’t really understand what I’m saying. I wonder if I should tell Gran what we know. I could tell Lizzie and Ruth at school, because I bet they don’t have an uncle who’s queer, or even know anyone who has. They’ll be really shocked and want to know all about it, and I can say, ‘If one of you’ll be my best friend, I’ll tell you.’
Eddress
‘What have you two been out there chatting about?’ I ask Eddie as he comes back in the front room with a fresh pot of tea. ‘Thought you’d gone round the pub, or something, you were gone so long.’
‘Oh, Maurice was just telling me how he’s thinking about packing in the air force and going to Rhodesia,’ he answers.
That takes me back a bit. ‘He never said anything to me.’
‘He’s just thinking, that’s all. He was asking me what I thought about all the troubles they’re having over there.’
‘Where is he now?’
‘Gone to the toilet. Where’re the children?’
‘I sent them upstairs to play, all their noise was giving me a headache.’
He fills up my cup and passes it over. ‘Are you warm enough? Do you want me to turn the fire up a bit?’
‘No. I’m all right. So what did our Maurice have to say about me?’
‘What makes you think he said anything about you?’
‘Because I know our Maurice.’
He picks up his cup and goes to sit in the chair next to the fire. ‘He just said it’s a shame you’re not up and about and more yourself.’
I have a closer look at him. ‘What’s the matter with you?’ I say. ‘If I didn’t know better I’d think you’d been bloody crying. What’s happened to your eyes?’
‘Got some dust in them. Now come on, drink that tea up, before it gets cold.’
To tell the truth I don’t want it, which isn’t like me at all. Usually, I love me cup of tea, but I’ve gone right off it lately. No point making a fuss though, he’ll only start reading something into it, so I force a drop down and leave the rest to go cold.
I’m just about to light up a fag when our Maurice opens the door and quick as a flash flicks out his lighter.
‘Haven’t lost your touch then,’ I comment.
He chuckles and it makes me smile, because it sounds just like it always used to. Me smiles aren’t lasting very long tonight though, which is a shame, but I’m feeling a bit down and I can’t seem to shake it off. But wouldn’t you in my shoes, if you’d been waiting fifteen years for your brother to come home, and when he does you can hardly get up off the settee, never mind do any of the dancing and going to the races like you used to? I’ve been really looking forward to him coming, and now, I have to be honest, I almost wish he wasn’t here.
‘So how’s our mam?’ I ask him. ‘I haven’t seen her all week.’
‘She’s not too bad. Same old Florrie. Worried about you though.’
‘What’s she worried about me for? She should be worrying about herself, that’s who she should be worrying about.’
‘That’s what I told her, but you know what she’s like.’
‘Fuss, fuss, fuss, that’s all she does. Gets right on my bloody nerves.’
He looks at his watch.
‘What’s the matter?’ I say. ‘Got somewhere else to go?’
‘As a matter of fact, I have. It came up last minute, you know how it happens.’
I roll my eyes. ‘So what’s her name?’ I say, feeling jealous, even though I’m not in the mood for going out to have a bit of fun.
He laughs. ‘Did you hear that, Eddie? She’s got me down as some kind of Romeo, she has, and it couldn’t be further from the truth.’
‘Spot on it, more like,’ I tell him. ‘I know you, remember? In fact, I’d go as far as to say no-one knows you better.’
‘Now you could be right about that,’ he laughs, coming to give me a kiss. He’s the only one of my brothers who goes in for all that kissing and hugging business, and to be honest, I wish he wouldn’t, not in front of Eddie. It just don’t feel right.
‘I’ll see you to the door,’ Eddie says, getting up.
‘Are you coming again?’ I ask him.
‘Course I am. I’m over till the end of January, so plenty of time
to see my favourite sis. And I expect to be taking you out down the Legion, getting those legs twirling again, before I go back, so buck your bloody self up a bit, my girl. You don’t want to go on lying there for ever, now do you?’
‘Get away with you,’ I say, trying to laugh so he won’t notice I’m nearly bloody well crying.
Him and Eddie stay out by the front door chatting for a bit, which gives me a chance to pull meself together. I can’t hear what they’re saying. Something about me again, I expect, which gets me all riled up because I don’t want them out there gossiping about me. Anyone would think I was a bloody deafo, or an invalid, the way they’re carrying on, but let me tell you, I still got all me faculties and they ain’t going anywhere in a hurry, so they better watch out, those two out there, saying things about me that they’ve probably got all wrong anyway.
Eddie comes back in the room and sits down. Neither of us says a word, well, there’s nothing to say, is there? We sit here night after night, pretending everything’s going to be all right when both of us are scared stiff it won’t be. No point dwelling on it though. It’ll only make it worse, and why do that, when I was reading in the Woman’s Weekly the other day about someone up north who had what I’ve got, and now she’s right as rain. She even said how scared she used to get, she even got to the point where she was ready to give up, but she didn’t, and now look where she is. Fighting fit and writing her story in a magazine. Don’t suppose I’ll ever do that, write I mean, but it just goes to show, don’t it, I’m not the only one who’s ever been in this position and though it can take a bit of time, it does get better.
I just wish it would in time for Christmas.
‘Why don’t you go and see what they’re up to,’ I say to Eddie. ‘They’re too quiet for my liking.’
He goes off without a word, and I shut me eyes. Our Maurice’s visit has left me tired right out again.
He’s up to something, our Maurice, I can tell. He’s got himself involved with some woman already, and it wouldn’t surprise me one bit to find out she’s married. It wouldn’t be the first time, but if our mam gets wind of it he’ll be out on his ear. She chucked him out when he did it before, and I know her, she’ll do it again.
‘What are you doing down here?’ I say as Susan comes in the door.
‘Dad sent me down to say goodnight,’ she answers.
‘All right, goodnight then.’
‘Mum?’ Gary says, coming in behind her. ‘Can I wear my Batman cape to school when we go back after Christmas?’
‘Your what?’
‘My Batman cape.’
‘I don’t know, ask your father.’ I rest me head back down on the pillow and try to keep me eyes open.
‘Mum, can we put up our Christmas tree on Saturday?’ Susan asks.
Oh, bloody hell, the tree. How could I have forgot? And bless their hearts they’re only just reminding me, when they must be dying to get on with it. What’s wrong with Eddie, for God’s sake, why didn’t he say something? ‘Course we can,’ I tell her. ‘Ask your father to fetch it down from the attic in the morning.’
‘Can we light a fire in the other room too?’ Gary says, ‘so we can send our notes up the chimney to Father Christmas.’
‘Come here,’ I say, holding out my arms. ‘Both of you.’
They come and we have a good old cuddle. ‘I’ll light the fire meself,’ I tell them. ‘First thing tomorrow. So how’s that?’
Their faces light up and excitement starts rushing out of them.
‘All right, all right,’ I laugh, ‘don’t get carried away. It’s time for bed now, so up you go.’
‘Goodnight,’ Susan says.
‘Goodnight. Sleep tight.’
‘Goodnight,’ Gary says.
‘Goodnight. Sleep tight.’
As they go I lay me head back down and start thinking about dancing with our Maurice and winning at the races; unwrapping Christmas presents and lighting up the tree. I can see Dr Michaels with his X-rays, and Eddie with the starting handle of his car. It’s all getting jumbled up. What’s our mam doing riding a bloody horse? She’ll fall off and break her neck. Here’s our Susan coming in with the coal, and Gary trying to help her. They’re setting theirselves on fire! Eddie! Where’s Eddie? The kids are on fire. I’ve got to get to my kids. I’m trying to get up, but I can’t. The flames are swallowing them up, and I still can’t get there. Eddie! Where are you? Eddie! Susan! Gary! Why can’t I get there?
I come awake with a bit of a jump. Me heart’s racing and I’m feeling all hot. Thank God it was a dream, frightened me half to death it did, not being able to get to them. Too much bloody rubbish going round and round in me head, I’ll end up down the loony bin if I go on like this. I’ll just lie here now and think about Christmas. The kids’ presents are all up our mam’s, waiting to be wrapped. Just thank God for the club books, is what I say. Got nearly all our presents off John Myers and Littlewoods this year, and we haven’t taken too much on the never-never either, only about twenty-five quid’s worth, which I don’t like doing, but we’re a bit short, with Eddie not being able to get in much overtime lately. What shall we have for dinner on the day? Turkey, or another goose? I don’t feel up to roasting a goose. We can just have turkey. Our mam can go to our Phil’s, or our Gord’s for a change, not so much work if it’s just us four. Why was Eddie’s eyes red just now? Is this him, coming back in the room? Yes, it’s him. I’ll pretend I’m asleep.
Thank God that last lot of treatment’s over. A couple of days ago I thought I was on me way out, honest I did, and now here I am, still a bit weak and tired, but managing to stuff a turkey ready for our Christmas dinner tomorrow. I’ve even made a dozen mince pies and the tree’s all lit up in the front room with presents piling up all over the place. Eddie tried to warn the kids that there wouldn’t be much this year, you know, with me not being able to get out much, then it turns out our families have all rallied round, and have been traipsing up and down to our house for the past week, bringing a damn sight more than any of us deserve, I can tell you that much.
Notes have gone up the chimney now, and our mam’s stocking drawer’s been emptied (her fault for having so many grandchildren), and we’ve got so many bloody cards streaming in through the letter box every day I’m running out of space to hang ’em all.
I’ve been wondering how Flo’s managing up there with her two girls, this being their first Christmas without Bob. Breaks your heart, don’t it, to think of them coping all on their own. Makes me glad I got Eddie, but I wish I’d been able to get up there more. I just haven’t been feeling up to it, and I don’t blame Flo for not coming here, she’s got enough on her plate without having to be bothered about me. Eddie’s been taking the kids up regular though, which is where he is now, finding out if Flo and her girls want to come and have some Christmas dinner with us.
Funny how I keep thinking about Bob, you know, wondering if he can see us, or hear us, and what it’s like being where he is. They say everything’s better when you’re dead, that it’s all happiness and no pain, but it’s hard to imagine that when the poor bloke left two young kids behind, innit? Must be tearing his bloody heart out, if he can see them but can’t do anything to help them. If it was me I wouldn’t be able to stand it. I don’t even want to think about it, because not being here for my kids . . . Tell you what, I’ll just get on stuffing this turkey and have a bit of tea ready for them all when they come in.
‘Mum! Mum! Wake up, Mum!’
‘What? What’s going on?’
‘Father Christmas is coming tonight,’ Gary’s shouting at me. ‘You have to go to bed.’
‘Blimey, what time is it?’ I say, looking at the clock. ‘I must have dropped off.’
‘It’s time to go to bed!’
I start laughing. ‘It’s only ten past four,’ I tell him. ‘Where’s your father? And get that wet coat off.’
‘I ran on and beat them,’ he says. ‘They’re slowcoaches.’
‘Is Au
nty Flo coming for Christmas? Ugh! Don’t throw that wet coat at me. Go and hang it on the bottom of the stairs.’
‘Can we go to bed then?’
‘No we cannot.’
As I follow him out to the kitchen Eddie and Susan come stomping in, dripping more rain all over the floor. ‘Look at the pair of you, wet right through,’ I grumble. ‘You’ll catch your blooming deaths and then who’s going to eat the lovely Christmas dinner I’ve got for you all tomorrow?’
‘I’m going to get Daddy a new car for Christmas when I’m older,’ Susan informs me. ‘One that works all the time, and he’s going to teach me to drive it. Why don’t you learn too, Mum?’
‘Your father keeps saying he’ll teach me. Full of promises he is, so let’s make sure he keeps them. Now, do you want a mince pie, all of you? They’re still nice and warm.’
‘Yes,’ they all cheer. ‘With lots of clotted cream,’ Susan adds.
‘Tell your mother what we saw on the way down from Aunty Flo’s,’ Eddie says, hanging all the wet coats on the back door.
‘Oh yes, we saw a lighting-up reindeer in someone’s garden,’ Gary gushes.
‘And there was an elf too,’ Susan says. ‘And a Christmas tree that looked as though it had real candles on, but Dad said they were only pretend. Can we get some like that, for our tree?’
‘When we can find a tree that money grows on,’ I tell her. ‘Come here, let me look at you.’ I tilt her face up to the light. ‘Is that chocolate round your mouth, young lady?’
‘Oh yes, we had some Christmas log at Aunty Flo’s. She’s coming tomorrow with Julie and Karen, isn’t she Dad? They’ll be down about one, she said. Ow, Mum, that hurts.’
‘A girl your age should be washing her own face by now,’ I tell her. ‘Here, put some soap on this flannel and get yourself clean.’
I look at Eddie, who’s rubbing Gary’s hair with a towel. Funny, but I’ve got this urge to go and put me arms round him. Can’t do it in front of the kids though, so I just give him a bit of a smile. I hope Bob, wherever he is, can read me mind, so he knows how pleased I am to have his family here on Christmas Day. I’ll take care of ’em all, don’t you worry, Bob. They’ll be all right here with me.