by Joan Jonker
Annie’s nerves were shattered. ‘What d’yer mean, what’s up?’
‘I wasn’t born yesterday, sunshine,’ Ada told her, ‘and it’s sticking out a mile that all is not well with yer. I can tell by yer eyes, and yer whole body is as taut as a violin string. So come on, what’s bothering yer?’
Annie sucked in her breath, then blew it out slowly. ‘What’s bothering me, sweetheart, is that I’m bothering you. I come to you with all me troubles, and it’s not fair. Yer’ll rue the day yer ever knocked on my door.’
Ada clicked her tongue and slowly shook her head. ‘Listen, sunshine, when yer know me a bit better, yer’ll find out I don’t suffer fools gladly. If I thought yer were a moaner, who just liked the sound of their own voice and talked for the sake of talking, then I’d tell yer to yer face to hop it. But if I make a friend, then I expect them to listen to my troubles, and help me out if they can. And it works the other way round. If a mate of mine needs help, then I’ll give it.’ She turned to Hetty, who was listening with interest. ‘Isn’t that right, sunshine?’
‘It certainly is, girl. We’ve been mates for twenty years, and we’ve always shared everything. Joy, sorrow, heartache, the lot.’ There was affection in the smile Hetty gave her friend. ‘Many’s the time I’d have been lost without Ada. She’s always been there for me.’
‘Yes, but you’ve forged that friendship over the years,’ Annie said. ‘Yer’ve only known me a few weeks and I’ve brought yer nothing but trouble.’
Ada tried to make light of it. ‘Oh, I don’t know, sunshine, yer’ve brought us a bit of excitement, as well. And whatever it is that’s bothering yer now, get it off yer chest and we’ll see if there’s anything we can do to help. I know it’s got to be something to do with that ruddy husband of yours, so let’s be having it.’
Annie closed her eyes. They knew Tom Phillips was a drunkard and a bully, they’d seen that for themselves. But how could she start to tell them of the degradation and humiliation inflicted on her behind the bedroom door? What she’d had to suffer every night since her wedding night? They’d be horrified and sickened. And perhaps they’d think less of her for putting up with it.
Ada put a hand over Annie’s. ‘Come on, sunshine, ye’re with friends now. Whatever yer tell us, me and Hetty won’t repeat to anyone. That is a solemn promise. And yer’ll feel better when yer get it off yer chest.’
Annie laced her fingers and dropped her head. She would tell them. She had to clear her mind if she was to keep her sanity. But she was too embarrassed to face them. ‘Yer know my husband is a bully, a drunkard who beats his wife and children. But there are things I have never told yer. Things I’ve never told anyone, because I’m too ashamed. So when yer hear my story, try not to think badly of me. My only sin is being too weak.’
Annie’s voice was faltering at first, then it grew in strength as anger built up inside her. Several times Hetty looked so shocked Ada was afraid she was going to cry out, and she had to tap her mate’s foot to warn her to keep quiet. If Annie stopped now, she may never pluck up the courage to start again. And she told it all. The humiliation, the torment, the gloating, the punches, the lot. And the more Ada heard, the more angry she became. Tom Phillips wasn’t a man, he was an animal. But she didn’t say a word. She waited until Annie was through and had got it all off her chest.
Hetty didn’t speak when Annie had finished. She was shocked to the core. Her own life was so sheltered, with a good husband who adored her and their children. She had no idea there were men on the earth as bad as Tom Phillips.
But Ada wasn’t lost for words. ‘And you’ve put up with that for twenty years, sunshine? Yer deserve a medal. I’d have done him an injury years ago. But then we’re not all alike, are we? And there’s no point in us sitting here going over what has been, it’s too late for that. What we should be talking about is what are yer going to do tonight, Annie?’
Annie shook her head. ‘I honestly don’t know, sweetheart. I could say I’d rather cut me throat than be in the same bedroom as Tom Phillips, and it would be true. But I’ve got two children to think of. They are the only reason I have for living.’
‘Ay, we’ll have less of that talk, Annie Phillips,’ Ada said with a look of determination on her face. ‘I’m not going to sit back and let some little twerp like yer husband ruin your life or the kids’. And I’m bloody sure I’m not going to sit here tonight knowing you’re over the road going through hell.’
‘There’s not much we can do about it, sweetheart,’ Annie said. ‘I’ll send the children out so they don’t get involved. It’s all I can do.’
But Ada wasn’t having that. ‘It’s a desperate situation, sunshine, and it calls for desperate measures.’ She rolled up her sleeves. ‘Put the kettle on for a fresh pot of tea, Hetty, please, while we figure out a plan of campaign. We’ll put a stop to that bugger’s shenanigans if it’s the last thing I do. And now, Annie, let you and me put our heads together so we get the timing right.’
Chapter Twenty-Two
Annie’s eyes kept going to the clock as she paced the floor. The children should be in any minute now. They’d gone out to work at the same time this morning, and agreed to meet each other off the tram after work and walk home together. Their dinners were in the oven on plates and she was on pins as she prayed this was one night they wouldn’t be late. Any other night she wouldn’t have worried, for Tom Phillips would be going for his usual few pints of beer, and would be home later than them. But not tonight, for she knew he had no money. In fact he’d be lucky if he had enough on him for the tram fare to work and back. Which meant he’d be in a worse temper than usual.
Two shadows passed the window and Annie flew to open the front door. ‘Ooh, thank goodness ye’re not late. I’ve been on pins waiting for yer.’ She hugged Jenny and kissed her, then did the same with Ben. ‘Take yer coats off and hang them up, while I put yer dinners out.’
‘What’s the hurry, Mam?’ Jenny asked. ‘Yer look all hot and bothered. I’m not going out tonight, so I’ll be here with yer when me dad comes in.’
Ben looked sheepish. ‘I’ve promised to go to me mate’s, Mam, but if yer want me to stay in, I will do.’
Annie was on her way to the kitchen when she answered, ‘No need to stay in, son. If yer’ve made arrangements, then you go out.’
Jenny followed her mother to the kitchen. ‘How did it go this morning, Mam? What time did me dad wake up?’
‘I think it was about half eight, sweetheart. I didn’t wake him, I left him there until he came round.’ Annie put a cloth over her hand to take one of the hot plates from the oven. ‘As yer can imagine, I got the height of abuse off him. It was all my fault according to him. I don’t think he even remembered being rotten drunk, or that he was knocked unconscious for being rowdy. None of it was his fault. I should have woken him up in time for work, and made him breakfast into the bargain.’
Ben came forward and took the plate from her. ‘I’ll take it in, Mam. Is this mine, or is it our Jenny’s?’
‘They’re all the same, son. You take that in and me and Jenny will bring our own through.’
When they were seated round the table, Jenny said, ‘I bet he had a right cob on, Mam. Did he have a go at yer?’
Annie raised her brows. ‘He was in a real temper with being so late for work, but I just sat here and listened to him. He got very cocky, telling me what he’d do to me when he got home tonight. And when I just sat and stared him out, he got more bad-tempered than ever. In fact he ordered me to get his breakfast ready while he was getting washed. But I didn’t stay to listen to any more. I took me purse and me coat, and left him to it. That’ll be another black mark against me, like, but I couldn’t care less.’
‘I’ll be here when he gets in, Mam, and if he starts, we can both take him on.’
‘I’ll be here, too,’ Ben said. ‘I won’t go out.’
Annie laid down her knife and fork. ‘I’m not going to tell yer everything yer dad said,
’cos yer’ve heard it all before and yer know what he’s like. But you are going out tonight, Ben, and so is Jenny. And I don’t want any arguments from yer. I want yer to eat yer dinner as quick as yer can, and be out of the house by the time yer dad comes in.’
‘Mam, ye’re keeping something back, and I want to know what it is,’ Jenny told her. ‘I’m not going out tonight because I’ve got nowhere to go.’
‘I’ll have to be brief, ’cos yer father could walk in any minute, seeing as he’s no money to go boozing. I made up me mind this morning, after he’d been ranting and raving at me, that I’d taken enough off yer father over the years, and I wasn’t prepared to take any more. So I called at Mrs Fenwick’s, to get things off me chest, like. Yer see, I can’t just run away and leave you two here, for ye’re all I’ve got in life. And we’ve no money to find a place of our own. So I put me pride in me pocket and had a good talk to Ada. She’s very good is Ada, very cool and sensible. And she came up with a plan which we hope will teach yer dad a lesson.’
This information was of great interest to the two children. There was nothing they wanted more than for their mother to have a good life, without the fear of violence. ‘Ooh, that sounds too good to be true, Mam,’ Jenny said. ‘What is this plan?’
Annie shook her head. ‘I can’t tell yer that, sweetheart, ’cos things don’t always go according to plan. I mean, I can’t say for sure whether yer father will come home soon, or whether he’ll have borrowed money off one of his workmates and gone for his few pints. I don’t know what sort of mood he’ll be in, or if he’ll be going to the pub tonight. As Ada said, we’ll have to play it by ear. And that’s all I can tell yer, sweethearts, except I want both of yer out of this house as soon as yer’ve finished yer dinner. And I don’t want yer near the street until half past ten, when all the pubs are shut. And I want yer to promise me that.’
Jenny was shaking her head. ‘Mam, I’ve nowhere to go! I can’t walk the streets until half past ten, that’s asking too much. And I’m not going to the pictures on me own.’
‘Yer won’t be walking the streets, sweetheart, I wouldn’t allow yer to do that. I want yer to go over to Ada’s, and stay there until we see if her plan works. Even if it does, it’s not going to turn yer father into an angel overnight. But it will be a start. He’s got to learn that in this life he can’t have everything his own way. I’m not banking on it, just hoping. And I’m not telling yer any more ’cos it might all come to nothing.’
Jenny looked stunned. ‘I can’t go and plonk meself in Mrs Fenwick’s until half ten, I hardly know the woman! Oh, I know she’s a nice person, Mam, and she’s being a good friend to you. But I wouldn’t know what to do with meself over there. I wouldn’t know what to talk about. And I can’t understand why I can’t stay here with you. If me dad starts his shenanigans, we could manage him between us.’
Annie averted her eyes. She knew it sounded weird, what she was asking the children to do, but it was better than telling them the truth about how depraved their father really was. They were too young to carry that burden. ‘Yer could play cards with them. They have a few games every night, and it would pass the time away. Yer wouldn’t feel in the way or anything, sweetheart, ’cos they’re very friendly. And yer’d certainly have a good laugh.’ Never very good at telling lies, Annie felt she was losing the battle. ‘It is important, Jenny, or I wouldn’t be asking yer. It’s only for a few hours, and when it’s over, and yer know why I’m being so secretive, then yer’ll understand. Something might happen, something might not happen. It all depends upon yer father. It’s worth a try, for we can’t carry on the way we are. It’s no sort of life for any of us. So please, bear with me, just for tonight.’
Jenny looked into her mother’s careworn face, and her heart went out to her. ‘I can’t say I understand what yer hope to gain, Mam, ’cos it doesn’t make sense. It’ll take more than any plan yer’ve got to change me dad. He’s had his own way for so long, he’ll never change now, that’s a dead cert. But as it seems to mean a lot to yer, then I’ll go over to the Fenwicks’. But I’m going to change me dress first. I’m not going over in me work clothes. It’s bad enough being ashamed of me dad, without feeling ashamed of meself. I’ll nip upstairs and change me dress, it won’t take me five minutes.’
Jenny had her pride and wanted to look her best. Especially if Danny was there. For the last two nights he’d had to carry her father home, rotten drunk, and he must wonder what sort of family they were. She didn’t know much about the lad, except he was nice-looking and seemed kind. And she didn’t want him to think that because her father was a rotter, it ran in the family. So with her change of dress came a quick dab of powder and a trace of lipstick. She heard Ben leaving the house, and although she knew her mother would be waiting, she allowed herself a few seconds to run the hairbrush through her thick auburn hair. Then she felt she could face anyone without feeling guilty about who she was.
Annie was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, and at the sight of her daughter looking so pretty, she could feel tears stinging the backs of her eyelids. ‘Oh, yer do look bonny, sweetheart. A sight for sore eyes.’ She had to turn away, for she didn’t want her daughter to see her upset. But running through her mind was the thought that the only good things that had come from her marriage to Tom Phillips were her beautiful children. They were her life, and she adored them. But the man who had fathered them had no love for them, or pride in them. To him they were just figures he could vent his anger and wickedness on. Well, the day might soon come when he wasn’t around to treat them like slaves, and they would have no cause to be ashamed of who they were. And that day couldn’t come quick enough for Annie.
When Jenny stepped down into the street, she looked up at her mother. ‘Mam, don’t let me dad knock yer around, d’yer hear? Run over to Mrs Fenwick’s, and I’ll come back with yer. Promise me yer’ll do that?’
‘I’ll give yer me promise, sweetheart, but I don’t think it’ll come to that. I won’t say any more now, let’s wait and see. For all we know, this might turn out to be the best day of our lives. The turning point, perhaps.’
Jenny couldn’t see that happening, but she wasn’t going to put a damper on her mother’s spirits. ‘I’ll be home at half ten, then, Mam. Okay?’
Annie nodded. ‘I’ll be fine, don’t worry.’
Tom Phillips was smirking as he walked out of the dock gates. He had two bob in his pocket that he’d scrounged off the men he worked with. Several of the men had sent him packing with a flea in his ear, because they didn’t like him. But four of the gang, unknown to each other, had been talked into lending him sixpence each. They didn’t know it was for beer; he’d told them he’d lost his money through a hole in his trouser pocket, and they’d believed him. And he’d promised to pay them back the next day. He’d given the same excuse to his boss for being so late clocking on. No money for the tram fare, so he’d had to walk all the way.
As he neared the pub, and the smell of beer invaded his nostrils, he was feeling on top of the world. Two shillings would see him all right for a few pints here, with a bit over. Still, it was a mystery what had happened to the money he had in his pocket last night. He must have had more to drink than he thought, or he’d lost it somewhere. Anyway, there was no point in spending time worrying about it. He could get what he wanted from that stupid cow of a wife of his.
There was a woman of about thirty leaning against the wall of the pub. With a cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth, her face thick with powder, rouge and bright red lipstick, she looked what she was . . . one of the many prostitutes who plied their trade near the docks. She approached Tom as he neared the door of the pub. ‘You look like a feller who appreciates a bit of fun. How about it? For a tanner, yer can have anything yer like.’
‘I can get what I want at home for nothing.’ Tom brushed her aside. ‘I’ve got me own slave there who’s very well trained. I don’t need no whore.’
‘I can turn tricks yer�
��ve never even thought of.’ The woman sneered. ‘Yer don’t know what ye’re missing, lad. Yer wife’s an amateur. Yer should try a professional, then yer’ll be a real man.’
The words brought Tom to a halt. The woman was touting for business, and he’d always looked down on the women who hung around the docks. But her words had him wondering. Was he missing out? Then he shook his head. No, he was quite happy with his wife. She wasn’t enthusiastic in what she did for him, on the contrary, she hated it, and he knew it. But that was part of the thrill for him.
Tom picked his glass up off the counter and took it to one of the small tables. The whore’s words stayed in his mind as he drank his way through that pint, and the next two. Perhaps he should try it some time. It wouldn’t hurt. If he never tried, he’d never know and would always wonder. It seemed they only charged a tanner, so it was worth a try. He’d take the sixpence out of his wife’s housekeeping. Yeah, that was a good idea, he liked that. He’d be having the time of his life at her expense. Comparing his wife with the whore reminded Tom that he’d ordered Annie to be in his bed tonight. And on that thought, he downed his third pint of beer, left the empty glass on the table and headed for home.
As an hour ticked by, Annie knew her husband must have borrowed money off someone to go for a few pints. Which meant he’d be in an excitable, but unpredictable, mood. Drinking beer seemed to have different effects on different men. Some became happy and talkative, while Tom Phillips became an abusive bully. She wasn’t looking forward to hearing his key in the door, but she was not going to back down. Not this time. There were a lot of people putting themselves out to help her, and she’d rather take all the blows Tom Phillips aimed at her than let those people down. It would be throwing their kindness back in their faces. She just hoped things worked out as Ada had planned. Not only for herself, but for Jenny and Ben. They were only young once, and when they were older she wanted them to be able to look back with fond memories.