by Joan Jonker
‘It’s only ten past six, sweetheart, yer’ve got another three-quarters of an hour before yer need to get up. Go back to bed and I’ll call yer when it’s time.’
Jenny shook her head. ‘It’s freezing up there, Mam, and the bed will be cold now. I’ll stay down and help yer. Shall I bring a shovel of coal in?’
‘There’s no need, the scuttle is nearly full. You sit on the couch, and in ten minutes there’ll be a fire blazing up the chimney. While we’re waiting, I’ll make us a hot drink.’
‘I’ll do that, Mam, while you get the fire going. I may as well make meself useful instead of sitting here watching yer.’
‘That would be nice, sweetheart, but don’t use a lot of milk. The milkman is usually here by seven, but if he’s late and there’s not enough for yer dad’s breakfast, there’ll be hell to pay.’
‘I’ll go easy on it, Mam, don’t worry.’
‘I heard that, sis.’ Ben slid quietly into the room, closing the door behind him. ‘I don’t mind tea without milk, if it comes to the push. As long as it’s wet and hot.’
‘What’s the matter with yer both this morning?’ Annie asked. ‘I’m usually shouting at yer for ages before yer’ll get up. Ye’re upsetting me whole routine now, and keeping me back.’
‘No, we won’t keep yer back, Mam,’ Jenny said as she walked into the kitchen. ‘I’ll make the tea, you get about yer business. And Ben, you can take the ashes out and empty them in the midden.’
‘Ooh, ye’re not soft, are yer! It’ll be ruddy freezing out there, and I’m not dressed properly yet.’ Ben was sorry as soon as the words left his mouth. His mother must make the journey down the yard every morning, and you never heard her complain. ‘Leave them, Mam, I’ll put me coat on and take them out for yer.’
The three sat round the table when the tea was made, but Annie’s eyes kept going to the clock and she wouldn’t let them linger. The fire was burning brightly, the kettle was on the stove on a low light, and the bread was cut ready for toasting. She couldn’t see anything for her husband to find fault with. ‘Yer’ve had a swill at the sink, son, so go upstairs and get dressed. Give yer dad a shout, and keep shouting until he answers.’ She turned to her daughter. ‘Use some water out of the kettle to get washed, sweetheart, then fill the kettle again. Go on, while yer’ve got the chance.’
While Ben made for the stairs, Jenny hurried to the kitchen. If she had a quick cat’s lick and a promise, she could be dressed before her father came down. She always made sure she was well covered in his presence, for she hated to feel his eyes on her. Several times he’d opened the bedroom door when she was getting dressed, and the look on his face sickened her. There was no lock on the door, and he would push it open and brazenly lean against the wall watching her. She’d never told her mother for she knew it would cause her more heartache. And God knows, she had a rotten life as it was, without her daughter making it worse for her. She’d told Ben the last time it happened, and he’d promised that if their father ever left the breakfast table saying he wanted something from his bedroom, then Ben would find an excuse to follow him. They vowed to protect each other from his violence, and to stick by their mother through thick and thin.
When Tom Phillips came downstairs, he was in a foul temper. He hadn’t slept well, for two of his fingers were throbbing and painful. They weren’t broken, he was well aware of that. But he was a weakling when it came to pain, and what another man would shrug off, he tended to make heavy weather of. And that morning, when he saw his two children sitting at the table and talking to each other, he was filled with ill will. He pulled a chair out from under the table and sat down. There was no greeting from him, never was. In fact if he came in with a smile on his face and a greeting on his lips, they’d think something was drastically wrong.
Annie came in from the kitchen carrying a plate of toast. She set it in front of him, then poured him a cup of tea and put sugar and milk in it. And all the while she could feel his eyes on her. She knew he wouldn’t touch her, not in front of the children. But his hatred was almost tangible and it frightened her. Somehow, sometime, he would get his revenge for last night. All she could do was be ready at all times, to fend him off.
Tom ate his toast and drank his tea in silence, using his left hand. He didn’t utter one word, but his head was filled with dark thoughts.
Chapter Thirteen
Jenny watched her brother follow their father out to the front door. Ben’s shoulders were slumped and his head was down. He looked a picture of dejection, and her heart went out to him. He was afraid of his father, and didn’t like to be near him. And there was no reason for him to go out every morning at exactly the same time, for when they got to the bottom of the street, without a word’s being exchanged, they would go in opposite directions. But if Ben dared to object, the answer he’d get would be a clip round the ear. In fact, with the mood Tom Phillips was in this morning, the punishment would be far worse than a clip round the ear. It would take a very brave person to look sideways at him. Not a word had crossed his lips since he’d come downstairs, but the venom in his eyes spoke volumes. It would only take a sideways glance, and all hell would break loose.
Jenny sighed. Her brother was only a kid, no match for a man who was six feet tall and thick-set. And violent and ruthless. What sort of life was it for a young lad, when he was afraid to speak in his own home? Jenny was about to turn away from the window when she saw the door opposite open and two men step down on to the pavement. She hadn’t seen much of the neighbours, as she used the back entry to come and go. From a young girl, she’d learned friends weren’t easy to come by. Oh, when they moved into a new house, which was very often, the children would be friendly with her, playing hopscotch or jumping with the skipping rope in the street. But their friendship never lasted long, after Tom Phillips’s reputation as a drunkard and a bully became known. So she’d never known what it was to have a true friend she could call for, or who would knock on her door and ask if she was coming out to play. Her only interest in the men coming out of the house opposite was because her mother had become friendly with Ada Fenwick, and she was curious. And she hoped with all her heart that they were going to be true, lasting friends, for her mother needed someone in her life whom she could turn to.
‘Mam, is that Mrs Fenwick’s husband just come out of the house?’
Annie came to peer over her shoulder. ‘Yes, that’s Ada’s husband and son. They’re very alike, aren’t they?’
‘They look very pleasant,’ Jenny said, her eyes following the figures until they were out of sight. ‘It’s not often yer see men smiling at this time of the morning.’
‘Don’t class every man with yer father, sweetheart, because they’re not all the same. From what I’ve heard, Mr Fenwick is a happy and loving husband. And according to Ada, and Hetty, young Danny is a smashing lad.’
‘He’s a nice-looking boy.’
‘Mad on dancing, so his mother told me. Goes jazzing every night.’
‘Not every night, surely?’
‘That’s what his mam said. He’s nineteen at the weekend, and Ada is buying him a tie. She said he spends so much time getting himself ready, she can’t get near the sink. His hair is slicked back with Brylcreem and yer can see yer face in the shine on his shoes.’ Annie turned and walked back to the table to collect the dirty dishes. ‘Sit down, sweetheart, and I’ll make a fresh pot of tea. Would yer like a slice of toast with it?’
Jenny pulled a chair out and sat down. ‘Only if you’re having one, Mam. Yer haven’t had anything to eat yet.’
‘Yer know I never eat anything until yer father’s gone out. I wouldn’t enjoy it, it would stick in me throat. He puts the fear of God into me, the looks I get off him.’
‘Well, he’s not here now, so let you and me enjoy a nice cup of tea and some toast. While you’re making it, I’ll get meself washed. Then we can relax for half an hour, and yer can tell me what ye’re getting for yer visitors this afternoon.’
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br /> Jenny was drying her face when Annie carried the pot of tea through and put it on the chrome stand. ‘Fetch the toast in with yer, sweetheart. I’ve done two rounds each.’
‘Ooh, it looks good, Mam! Lovely golden brown. I can’t wait to get me teeth into it.’
‘I’ve gone mad this morning, and put butter on it. I usually only put butter on yer dad’s, ’cos he knows the difference between that and marg. But it’s a little treat for you and me.’
Jenny bit into a piece of toast and sighed with pleasure. ‘Mmm, that’s good, Mam. If only we were rich, then we could have butter every day.’
‘It’s no good hankering for something we can’t have, sweetheart. Let’s be thankful for what we’ve got.’
‘I know, Mam, but there’s no harm in dreaming, is there? Yer never know, I might meet a feller with pots of money, who lives in a big house. He might fall madly in love with me, and there’d be room in the house for you and Ben. I know that’s an impossible dream, but it’s better to look on the bright side than be dead miserable and think things will never get better.’
‘I’ll be happy if yer meet a good man, Jenny, never mind whether he’s rich or poor. Love makes life worth living, whether it’s in a two-up-two-down or a mansion.’
Jenny looked at the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘I’ll have to be on me way in five minutes, Mam, so hurry up and tell me what ye’re getting in for yer visitors.’
‘I thought of getting two ounces of boiled ham for sandwiches, and a cream cake each.’
‘Have yer got enough money? I can always give yer a tanner to help out.’
Annie shook her head. ‘I’m all right, sweetheart, I’ve got enough in me purse for what I want. I’m careful with money, ’cos Tom’s never been generous. Most of his wages goes on beer, in every pub from here to Seaforth docks. But with what you and Ben turn up, I can manage.’ She was thoughtful for a few seconds, then said, ‘I’ll let yer into a secret, sweetheart, ’cos ye’re old enough to know what’s going on. I’ve got a few pounds put by in case of emergency. Over the years I’ve gone without to put sixpence away each week without fail. I’ve always had it in the back of me mind that one day yer dad will go too far, and I’ll be forced to run away with you and Ben. What I’ve got isn’t enough for us to live on, but it’s adding up each week. So if it ever gets to the stage where we were forced to flee, we wouldn’t starve. It would last us until we found a roof over our heads. And I’ll never touch me little nest egg, unless it’s a case of life or death.’
Jenny listened in silence, but inside she was crying. Her mother deserved better than this. ‘Mam, what did yer ever see in me dad to marry him? Yer could have done a lot better. I’m sure yer weren’t short of boyfriends. Yer must have been very pretty when yer were younger, ’cos ye’re still a fine-looking woman. Yer deserve better than him.’
‘I was blind to his faults, love, and I’m paying for it now. My mother could see through him, and she tried to talk me out of marrying him. She said I’d rue the day, and by God she was right. I only wished I’d listened, and taken her advice. But I was eighteen, and I thought I knew better than me mam.’ Her hand covered one of her daughter’s. ‘Don’t make the same mistake I made, sweetheart. Make sure the man yer marry is kind and loving. And he’ll look after yer and treat yer with respect.’
Jenny scraped her chair back. ‘Yer need have no worries on that score, Mam, I’ll make damn sure. I have no love for me dad, nor respect. But the one thing he has taught me is to make sure the man I marry is the right one for me.’ She bent and kissed her mother’s cheek. ‘I’ll have to scarper, or I’ll be late clocking on. But I hope yer have a lovely afternoon with Ada and Hetty. I know I shouldn’t be so familiar, using their first names, but if I ever get to meet them I’ll be careful to show respect. Finish the tea off, Mam, and relax for a while. I’ll see yer tonight for all yer news. Ta-ra.’
‘I warned yer it wouldn’t be as bright as your room, Ada, but one of these days it will be.’ Annie held out her hand. ‘Give me yer coats and I’ll hang them up. Otherwise yer’ll not feel the benefit of them when yer leave.’
Ada and Hetty gazed around the room. ‘What does it remind yer of, sunshine?’ Ada asked, chuckling. ‘Just like ours looked a couple of weeks ago.’
Hetty grinned as she handed her coat over. ‘Mine looked a damn sight worse than this. It reminded me of the black hole of Calcutta.’
Her eyes narrowed, Ada sat down. ‘Where the hell is the black hole of Calcutta?’
‘I dunno,’ Hetty answered. ‘In Calcutta, I suppose. But don’t try and tell me yer’ve never heard the expression, Ada Fenwick, ’cos I wouldn’t believe yer.’
‘I went to school, sunshine, and I was good at geography. So of course I’ve heard of Calcutta. But I never knew it had a ruddy black hole.’
Annie had a smile on her face as she hung up the coats on hooks in the tiny hall. What a difference there was in the atmosphere since the two women had walked through the front door. She felt happier and more light-hearted, and the house didn’t seem as dark. ‘I’ve got the kettle on the stove. Tea will be up in five minutes.’
Ada raised her brows. ‘Five minutes! Ye’re slow, aren’t yer, Mrs Phillips? When me and me mate are invited to afternoon tea, we don’t expect to have to wait five minutes. Yer’ll have to improve yer service if yer want us to be regular callers. Don’t you agree, sunshine?’
‘What was that, girl? I missed half of what yer said, ’cos I was too busy trying to remember the last time we were invited anywhere for afternoon tea. And d’yer know what? Not only can I not remember the last time we got invited out, I can’t remember the first! In other words, girl, I don’t think we’ve ever been in anyone’s house except each other’s.’
‘That’s right, make a liar of me!’ Ada pretended to be put out. ‘Yer’ve got a very short memory, sunshine, ’cos what about the day after Eliza moved out of here? You, me and Edith, we went next door to Jean’s and we had a little party. Surely yer can remember that?’
Hetty nodded her head slowly. ‘Yeah, I remember that, girl, ’cos we had a good laugh.’
Ada suddenly slapped a hand to her cheek. ‘I’m glad we brought Eliza’s name up, ’cos I might have forgotten.’ She looked up at Annie, who was still standing at the end of the table. ‘We’ve told yer about Eliza, the woman who used to live here, haven’t we? And how much we all loved her. Well, I had a letter from her this morning. It was to Hetty and meself, and she told us she was settling in nicely at her son’s house. Getting waited on hand and foot, so she says. She’s coming to see us next spring, when the weather is fit. She still misses this house though, and it will always have a place in her heart. But she understands she couldn’t live on her own much longer. Anyway, she hopes the new tenants, which is you, have settled in and are as happy here as she’d always been. And I was thinking that when she comes to see us next spring, yer could meet her for yerself. Perhaps even have her in for a cup of tea, so she can see the old house is in good hands?’
Annie couldn’t meet Ada’s eyes, so she began to pour the tea out. How could she pretend they were one big happy family when it was untrue? It wasn’t the fault of the house, for it was as nice a house as they’d ever lived in. But their stay was never a long one, while Eliza’s had been sixty years. ‘She’ll be welcome to come and see her old home, Ada, and I’ve heard so much about her, I’d like to meet her.’
The teapot was put down on the chrome stand, and Annie said, ‘I’ll bring the plates in.’ In the space of five minutes, her happiness at having friends in her house had turned to sadness. She hated having to pretend all was right in her life, when it wasn’t true. She’d been brought up by loving parents, who had taught her the difference between right and wrong. And telling lies was wrong. She might not actually be telling lies to Ada and Hetty, but she was acting a lie, which was just as bad.
Ada’s eyes rolled to the ceiling when she saw the plates. ‘Ooh, chocolate eclairs! They’re me favouri
tes!’ She ran the back of a hand across her lips. ‘Me mouth’s watering now, and me teeth can’t wait to bite into that chocolate and cream.’ Then she suddenly sat up straight in the chair and slapped her wrist. ‘Behave yerself, Ada Fenwick, and don’t be so ruddy greedy. Anyone would think yer’d never had an eclair before. Just behave yerself and mind yer manners.’
Hetty saw Annie’s look of bewilderment and smiled. ‘Don’t worry, girl, she’s not dangerous. Me mate often has moments of madness. I used to worry about her when I heard her talking to the flowers on the wallpaper. But I take no notice of her now because the flowers have gone, and she doesn’t seem to have befriended the leaves on the new paper. Perhaps it’s because leaves don’t have the same nice smell.’
Annie told herself to forget all her troubles for as long as her visitors were here, and to act as daft as them. ‘Does the new moon cause it, d’yer think? I had an uncle once, and every new moon, his wife had to tie him to a chair and put a gag in his mouth.’
‘Oh, and why was that?’ Ada asked. ‘Was he a bit loopy?’
‘Not all the time, no! He was a clever man as a matter of fact, had a good job in an office. It was only when there was a new moon, he used to come over funny. He used to wail like a banshee, terrifying everyone. All the women in the street used to take their children indoors when there was a full moon.’
While Hetty sat wide-eyed and all ears, Ada was smiling. ‘Ay, it didn’t take you long to come out of yer shell, Annie Phillips. We’re going to have to keep our eyes on you, otherwise yer’ll be telling better tales than us. Yer were quick off the mark, ’cos I reckon yer made that up as yer were going along.’
Hetty stared at her mate. ‘What makes yer say Annie made it up? Everyone’s not like you, yer know.’ She turned to Annie. ‘Yer didn’t make it up, did yer?’