by Joan Jonker
‘He’s goin’ to be a smashin’-looking lad when he grows up,’ Molly said, changing the bundle to her other hand. ‘He’ll break a few hearts in his time.’
‘I’ll tell yer what,’ Nellie grunted. ‘I don’t know about breakin’ hearts, he’s broken my ruddy back this afternoon. I just hope it doesn’t stop me from dancin’ tonight.’
‘Stop yer flamin’ moanin’, will yer? Pity someone doesn’t break yer jaw an’ give us all a bit of peace.’
They stopped outside the house Denis had disappeared into and dropped their bundles. It looked neat and tidy, as well cared for as any of the neighbouring houses. Two young girls came running to the door and Molly smiled as she nodded at Nellie. ‘Just about right, eh? A bit younger than Bella an’ Ruthie, wouldn’t yer say?’
Before Nellie could answer, a woman appeared behind the girls. She was dark-haired, tall from what they could see, and the smile on her thin face was friendly. Standing with a hand on each of the girls’ shoulders, she said, ‘I’m Denis’s mother, would you like to come in?’
As they walked along the bare boards of the hallway the house echoed with their footsteps, a hollow sound as though the house wasn’t lived in. And when they entered the living room the first thing that struck them was the bareness of it. No pictures or mirrors on the walls, not an ornament in sight. The floor was covered with scuffed lino, there was no rug in front of the clean fireplace and no fire burned in the grate. All the room contained were the absolute bare necessities – a table, four wooden chairs and a couch.
Denis and his two brothers stood on one side of their mother and his two sisters on the other while a baby, wrapped in a blanket, lay on the couch punching the air and crying to be lifted up.
‘My name is Monica Latimer.’ The woman held her thin body erect. She had long straight dark hair, combed back and tied with a ribbon to hang down her back. Her eyes were very dark brown, appearing almost black in the colourless face. Like the clothes on the children standing either side of her, her drab brown dress was shabby and had been patched in several places. But despite the lack of finery, she still had the looks of an attractive woman.
She touched each of the boys’ heads in turn. ‘Denis, Peter and John, and over on this side we have Hannah and Grace. The baby, who is about to scream the place down any minute, is Deborah.’
She’s not a bit like I expected her to be, Molly was thinking. She’s got a very refined voice, as though she’s been well educated. I wonder what brought her so far down in the world? ‘I’m Molly Bennett, an’ this here is me mate, Nellie McDonough.’
Mrs Latimer turned to her eldest son. ‘Denis, would you put the baby in her pram so the ladies can sit down?’
‘Ah, Mam!’ Denis was gazing at the big bundles, intrigued to know what they contained. After waiting all week, was he to be denied the pleasure of finding out if they had brought some clothing for him, to put a stop to the taunts of his school-friends?
As though she could read his mind, his mother smiled before reaching down and lifting the baby into her arms. ‘Sit down, please.’
Nellie hesitated, viewing the couch with trepidation. If she got stuck in that she’d make a laughing-stock of herself. ‘D’yer mind if I sit on one of the wooden chairs? Once I got down on that,’ she nodded at the horsehair couch, ‘yer’d never get me off it.’ Her smile took in the wide-eyed children. ‘That’s the worst of bein’ thin, yer see, kids.’
Monica Latimer waited until they were settled, then said, ‘I hope Denis wasn’t a nuisance to you last week. I found it very hard to believe his story when he came home with all those groceries and told us how he’d come by them. Not that they weren’t welcome, because I can assure you they were much appreciated. But I wouldn’t like to think he’d been forward, or cheeky.’
‘He wasn’t a nuisance or cheeky!’ Molly said. ‘In fact me an’ Nellie don’t know how we’d have managed without him, do we, Nellie?’
The chair creaked and Nellie’s chins did a dance. ‘Proper little godsend he was, an’ that’s a fact.’
‘He told us all about you, an’ his brothers and sisters.’ Molly was doing some quick thinking, expecting any minute to be asked why they’d come today bearing gifts of second-hand clothes. She didn’t want to get the lad into trouble. ‘It was when he mentioned them, an’ after him being so good, like, that I thought yer might be grateful for some of the clothes our kids have grown out of.’ Better tread carefully, she told herself. This was a proud woman who wouldn’t thank them for feeling pity for her. ‘I know by me own that it’s hard keeping kids in clothes, they grow out of them so quickly. But I don’t want to offend yer, and me and Nellie won’t take the huff if yer say yer don’t want them.’
‘Me mam won’t say that, will yer, Mam?’ There was such pleading in Denis’s eyes, it tugged on Molly’s heartstrings.
‘Look, why don’t you kids go out an’ play while we have a little talk to yer mam?’ Molly willed the lad to understand that what she was trying to do was for his own sake. ‘Take the baby out in the pram for ten minutes.’
Nellie brought out her scruffy purse from her pocket. ‘Here yez are, a threepenny joey to buy sweets with. But share them out between yer, d’yer hear? Get the baby a ha’p’orth of chocolate drops.’
The wide eyes and gaping mouths told Molly and Nellie that this was a rare treat indeed. Within a few minutes they were all hanging on to the sides of the dilapidated pram as Denis pushed it down the yard. He was the one with the threepenny joey, and they weren’t going to let him out of their sight.
‘You’re very kind.’ A tear glistened in the corner of Monica Latimer’s eye. ‘It’s a long time since they had any money for sweets.’
‘Can I call yer Monica?’ Molly waited for a nod, then leaned forward. ‘Look, me an’ Nellie here, we don’t believe in beatin’ about the bush … no manners, yer see, sunshine. So yer don’t mind if we explain why we’ve landed on yer doorstep like two Mary Ellens, do yer?’
‘No, of course not.’ Monica sat back in the wooden chair, surprised to find herself wanting to laugh, and that hadn’t happened in a long time. After all, she’d had very little to laugh about. She hadn’t believed the story Denis told her about the two fat women, but it couldn’t have been all lies or they wouldn’t be sitting in her room right now! And she found herself warming towards them … they looked a real pair of characters, typical Liverpudlians with a great sense of humour and hearts full to overflowing with kindness.
‘Well, it’s like this, yer see, Monica.’ Molly squared her shoulders before getting into her stride. ‘Me an’ Nellie here, we took a real shine to your lad last week … didn’t we, Nellie?’
‘Ye’re dead right there, girl!’ Nellie had been wondering when she was going to get her twopenny’s worth in. ‘Yer’ve got a great little lad there, Monica.’
‘All the children are good, considering what they’ve had to put up with in the last eighteen months. Their whole world has been turned upside down.’ Monica lapsed into silence, afraid the women wouldn’t want to be burdened with her troubles.
‘He’s a chatty little feller,’ Molly said, picking her words carefully. ‘An’ me an’ Nellie being nosy, like, we were interested and asked him questions. We weren’t prying, it’s just like I said, we took a liking to the lad.’
‘And he told you all our troubles?’ Monica lifted her hand when Molly went to protest. ‘Oh, it’s all right, I wouldn’t blame him if he had. In fact, I’d be happy if he had someone to unburden himself to. The poor boy keeps his heartache to himself because he’s the oldest and thinks he’s the man of the house now his dad has gone. And I haven’t been much help, crying my grief in front of the children, which was very wrong. I didn’t realize the harm I was doing until Denis walked through that door last week with his arms full of groceries. He looked so proud and so happy that he was helping, I felt thoroughly ashamed of myself. It was then I made up my mind not to cry any more, at least not in front of the children,
and to get off my backside and do something about the poverty we’re in.’ She laced her fingers together and laid them in her lap. ‘I don’t know how I’m going to do it, but if a ten-year-old boy can try, then so can I. It’s up to me to keep this family together, happy, well fed and decently clothed.’
Nellie laid her chubby hand on Monica’s shoulder. ‘Yer husband must’ve been very young when he died, girl?’
‘Thirty-two.’ Monica’s fingers were white as she pressed her hands together to keep the tears at bay. Then, slowly, she told them how her husband had always worked and provided for them. He loved his family and would have given them the moon if he could. He never took time off work, and when he came home one day coughing and sneezing he just shrugged it off as a heavy cold. For four days he went out to work looking dreadful, but still insisting it was just a cold. Then one night he was sweating so much in bed the sheets were wringing wet, and when Monica felt his brow he was burning with fever. He still tried to drag himself out of bed for work, but Monica, five months pregnant with Deborah, was so worried she made him stay in bed and sent for the doctor. He was rushed to hospital with pneumonia but died two days later.
Recalling that terrible time was too much for Monica, and the tears rolled down her face as her body shook with sobs. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I’ll be all right in a minute.’
Nellie was the first to reach her. ‘You go right ahead an’ cry, girl, it’ll do yer good.’ Her arms around the woman’s shoulders, she rocked her back and forth. ‘There now, get it all out of yer system.’
‘I’ll put the kettle on.’ Molly picked up the bag of groceries and made for the kitchen. There was tea and sugar in with the groceries, and a tin of conny-onny, and in no time at all Molly came through carrying a cup of piping hot tea. ‘There yer are, sunshine, get that down yer an’ dry yer eyes before the kids come back.’
‘You’re both very kind.’ A weak smile crossed Monica’s careworn face. ‘Denis said you were. He thinks you’re his fairy godmothers.’
‘Kind, my foot!’ Molly said gruffly as she began to untie the knots on one of the bundles. ‘If yer can’t help someone, then yer’ve no right to be living on this earth.’ She began to shake the creases out of the clothes before laying them across the table. ‘Yer can look through these an’ throw out what yer don’t want.’ Suddenly she began to chuckle. ‘Ay, Monica, can yer imagine me an’ Nellie with magic wands in our hands? Some fairy godmothers we’d make, eh? We look more like Two-ton Tessie O’Shea!’
‘Ay, you speak for yerself, missus!’ Nellie was heartened to see Monica’s face brighten as she eyed the clothes with interest. ‘Insult yerself if yer like, but leave me out of it.’
Monica put down her cup and approached the table. She was shy at first, picking up one or two things. Then when she realized there was something there for everyone except the baby, she became animated. ‘How did you know the sizes? There’s something here for each of the boys and the girls! And look,’ she picked up one of the dresses Jill had put in, ‘this will fit me! Oh, you are kind, and I’m very grateful.’
‘How have yer been managing?’ Molly asked casually. ‘For money, I mean.’
‘I’ve pawned everything we had.’ Monica lowered her eyes. ‘You wouldn’t have known this room two years ago; it was comfortable and warm … a real home.’
‘Can’t yer get any money off the Public Assistance?’ Molly asked. ‘They should help yez out.’
‘I’ve been too proud to ask for help. But not any more. Seeing our Denis’s face last Saturday was just the jolt I needed to make me realize what I was doing to my children. You see, I adored my husband, and when he died part of me died too. I’ve been wallowing in self-pity, forgetting that the children had lost the father they loved and needed me more than ever. So on Monday I went down to the Public Assistance and asked for help. They sent an inspector on Wednesday to make sure I didn’t have anything I could sell, and he said if I go down next Monday they’ll give me an allowance. It won’t be much, certainly not enough for everything. But even if it’s only enough to pay the rent, buy a bag of coal and put pennies in the gas meter, then it’ll be a load off my mind. I asked the woman next door if she’d mind the baby if I got a part-time job, and she’s agreed. So if I can get a job, then we’ll have food on the table. And these,’ she gestured to the piles of clothes, ‘they’ll keep us looking decent for a long time.’
Molly and Nellie exchanged glances. Both were thinking that if they’d taken young Denis to the police station last Saturday, what a different ending there’d have been to the story. Monica wouldn’t be smiling as she was now: she’d have been heartbroken.
‘Well, me an’ Nellie wish yer all the luck in the world, sunshine.’ Molly began to button her coat. ‘Yer’ve got a lovely family and a lot to thank God for.’
‘I’ve got you two to thank for bringing me to my senses. But won’t you stay and see the children? They’ll be disappointed if you don’t.’
It was Nellie who answered as she pushed herself off the chair. ‘Not today, Monica, we’ve got to do a bit of shoppin’ at the market an’ we don’t want to be too late home, ’cos we’ve got a heavy date on tonight.’
‘We will call in an’ see yer again, though,’ Molly said. ‘That’s if yer don’t mind?’
‘I’d love you to call in again.’ The first genuine smile in eighteen months lit up Monica’s face. The kindness of these two women had put her on the road to recovery, and she didn’t want to lose track of them. ‘I was going to ask, but was afraid you’d think I had a cheek after all you’ve done for us.’
‘Oh, yer haven’t seen the last of us, we’ll call in an’ see yer one Saturday afternoon in the next few weeks.’ Nellie waddled to the door then turned, a wide grin covering her face. ‘I’ve just thought on, I lent Molly me shoppin’ bag to put yer groceries in ’cos it was bigger than hers. An’ I need it to put me potatoes an’ things in.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I’ll get it right away.’
‘Hang on a minute.’ Molly pulled on Monica’s arm. ‘Your Denis will be in in a minute – send him up to the market with it. We’ll be at the first fruit stall, near the entrance.’
Nellie was getting worried as it was nearly her turn to be served. ‘I want spuds, carrots, onions an’ a turnip, an’ I’ve no ruddy bag to put them in! I’m not getting on the tram with all them wrapped in newspaper ’cos it would be just my luck for the paper to burst an’ all me spuds go rollin’ down the aisles.’ She tutted. ‘It’s your fault, yer should have let her get me bag for me while we were there.’
‘He’ll be here in time, so stop yer moanin’.’ Molly’s eyes were scanning the crowd for sight of the slim lad who, she knew only too well, could dart in and out of the crowd as fast as a whippet. ‘Here he is!’ She slapped Nellie on the back. ‘I told yer he’d get here.’
Nellie flashed Denis a smile, grabbed the bag and bawled, ‘It’s my turn, I’ve been waitin’ ages.’
But there was someone there with a bigger mouth than Nellie’s. ‘Tough luck, missus, ’cos yer’ll have to wait a bit longer. I was here before yer.’ The owner of the voice was less than half Nellie’s size, but she didn’t see that until it was too late to argue. So she stood and waited patiently for the woman to be served. She watched the greengrocer fill the bag then hand it over the counter. ‘It’s heavy, love, I hope yer can manage.’ The man winked. ‘If I could leave me stall, love, I’d willingly carry it home for yer.’
‘I’ll manage.’ The lady tried to lift the bag with one hand, then tried again with two. ‘My God, it weighs a ruddy ton! Have yer given me bricks instead of spuds? I’ll have no arms left if I ’ave to carry that all the way home.’
Nellie could hear Denis talking to Molly behind her and an idea formed in her mind. ‘How far yer got to go, love?’ she shouted across to the woman. ‘D’yer live near?’
‘Off Scottie Road … not that far really, but I don’t know ’ow I’m goin’ to mak
e it with the weight of this.’
‘Well, look, I might be able to help yer out.’ Nellie jerked her thumb over her shoulder. ‘I always bring a lad with me to carry me bags, I don’t believe in killin’ meself for the sake of tuppence. I’ll let you ’ave him if yer like, ’cos I’ve got me mate with me today to give me a hand. It’s up to you, I don’t mind one way or the other, I’m just tryin’ to be helpful.’
The woman’s body was leaning sideways with the weight. ‘How much did yer say he charges?’
‘He doesn’t charge, missus, but I give him tuppence for his trouble. It’s worth the money, I can tell yer.’ Nellie shrugged her shoulders. ‘Don’t bother if yer don’t want to, it’s no skin off my nose.’
‘Ask him for me, will yer?’
Nellie smiled down at Denis. ‘Yer didn’t mind me offerin’ yer services, did yer, son? Tuppence is better than a kick in the teeth, is it not?’
‘Oh, yeah!’ Denis was convinced now that these two were definitely his fairy godmothers. ‘I can give it to me mam.’
‘I’ve got a better idea.’ Nellie cupped his face. ‘I bet it’s a long time since anyone gave yer mam a bar of chocolate. Why don’t yer buy her a slab of Cadbury’s? I’m sure she’d be over the moon.’
The lad’s face was such a joy to behold, Nellie wanted to make sure he wasn’t robbed of the thrill of presenting his mother with a slab of chocolate. She turned to the woman. ‘He’ll do it for yer, love, but I always pay him in advance, so can yer pay him now?’ She held out her hand, leaving the poor woman with the option of paying up front or carting the heavy load down Scotland Road.
After rummaging in her purse, the woman handed the coppers over. Just wait until she got home, she’d give her husband a right earful. Sitting in front of a roaring fire he was, listening to the ruddy wireless while she was left to do the hard work! If he thinks he’s getting away with it next week he’s got another think coming. And I’ll get me tuppence back with interest! I’ll tell him I gave the lad threepence, he won’t know any difference, and I’ll mug meself to a penny’s worth of mint imperials.