‘No, course I don’t! I’ve never set foot in the place since. That were all a bad mistake. I’ve said I’m sorry till I’m blue in the face, Dena. What more can I do?’
‘And have you got a job yet? Can you afford to keep a wife and child?’
This was a question Kenny generally preferred to avoid. He looked shame-faced although he claimed to be following up the prospect of a job. ‘I’ll be set up by next week at the latest. We could be wed by the end of the month. I’ll speak to the priest, shall I, and fix a new date for the wedding? ‘
Dena smiled, not believing a word he said. Did she still love him? Did she still want him? Of course she did. She must, mustn’t she? He was the father of her child, and didn’t she deserve a happy ending? She really shouldn’t be too hard on him. All right, he’d made a mistake taking her to see that woman, but he’d apologised. What more could she ask?
Even so, Dena was in no hurry to change the situation. She’d managed this far on her own, and a part of her was beginning to wonder if she needed a husband at all. What was surely far more urgent, was getting back to work and earning some money herself.
Belle came again a few days later, eager to vehemently defend her son. ‘I can’t understand why you’re making such a fuss. Everyone has abortions these days.’
‘Not me! I am trying but a part of me still can’t forgive Kenny for asking me to do such a dreadful thing. You think I should just have let your grandchild, my precious unborn child, be allowed to ‘slip away’ like some sort of unwanted tadpole?’
Belle bounced the baby on her knee, cooing happily. ‘You could have said no.’
‘I did say no, but Kenny doesn’t seem to understand why.’
‘So he’s a clumsy, insensitive idiot? He’s young. He’ll learn. I do agree though that it’s a good thing you kept this precious little mite safe. I would have told him so myself had he bothered to ask. But he wanted only what was best for you, and there’s nothing wrong with that. He’s apologised for his mistake, so what more can he do?’
Dena was silent for a moment, conceding this to be true. But that wasn’t all that troubled her, was it? ‘He could start by showing some interest in his daughter. He scarcely glanced at her when he came.’ If only Belle had shown more affection for Kenny in the past, Dena thought. He might then have learned how to be a parent himself.
‘That will come, give him time. He certainly adores you, so far better to be married to a caring idiot than try to bring up a bastard alone. Isn’t it time you stopped being so stubborn and set a new date, eh? For the sake of this little mite, if nothing else.’ Belle leaned down to rub noses with the baby. ‘Who’s a pretty girl then? What is silly Mummy thinking of?’
‘I’m not sure I’m ready for marriage yet, with anyone,’ Dena reached for Trudy, taking her out of Belle’s arms and tucking her back into her pram to sleep. ‘I’m far too young.’
Belle’s irritation showed in her voice. ‘If you’re old enough to have a kid, you’re old enough to marry. You’ll ruin that child by your stupid stubbornness. I’ve spoken to Father Dimmock and he agrees that illegitimacy will damage her soul, scar my darling grandchild for life. And don’t say that she isn’t my granddaughter because you cannot alter biology.’
Dena was obliged to agree that the latter at least was probably true but was all too keenly aware that Belle was more annoyed at having her ‘big do’ ruined, and her own reputation tarnished, than any concern over her future daughter-in-law’s own happiness, or even the spiritual well-being of her grandchild.
And Belle’s efforts to be voted on to the market committee had once again been doomed to failure, for which she blamed Dena entirely. Yet her obsession with the baby continued to intensify. At least Dena had stuck to her guns when it came to the fancy cot and brand new coach-built baby carriage, which she’d point-blank refused to accept. Miss Rogers had bought her some second-hand baby equipment, which Dena insisted were fine.
Belle had complained bitterly, saying only the best was good enough for any grandchild of hers but Dena had remained immune to her pleas.
But there were days when she was tired and worn out from lack of sleep, when her purse was empty and she didn’t know where the next meal was coming from. It was at these times that Dena wondered if she was right to be so stubborn in refusing Belle’s offers of help. Perhaps she should have married Kenny after all, and given her baby a father and the respectability she deserved.
Yet on other days, when Trudy slept well and the sun shone, Dena felt grateful to be still free and independent.
If it wasn’t for Barry Holmes, Dena didn’t know how she would have managed through those first exhausting months. Barry popped in and out all the time, was forever cheerful and positive, never criticised, and every Friday evening, regular as clockwork, he arrived bearing a carrier bag full of vegetables and sometimes a bit of meat for the weekend or a few sausages from Mr Ramsay’s stall.
He would sit and dangle little Trudy on his knee while Dena chatted on about such trivialities as colic and wind, and how many ounces her lovely baby had gained this week. He never seemed to be bored, always content to let her ramble on while he cuddled Trudy and sometimes spooned Fairex into her ever-hungry mouth.
‘She’s like a little fledgling bird always wanting feeding. No sooner have I got one feed down her than it’s coming out the other end, and then she’s after another.’ Dena chuckled as she turned steaming nappies on the clothes rack before the electric fire. ‘An endless process.’
‘You need to get out a bit more though, Dena, a young girl like you. Lovely as she is, what you need is something else to think about besides the babby. Does no good cutting yourself off from all your friends.’
‘I don’t have any friends left. I’ve not seen a single one of them since I was taken into care at fourteen.’
‘What about that Gwen you met while you were inside, I mean at Ivy Bank? Couldn’t you go out with her to the flicks once in a while? It would do you good to get out and have a laugh now and then.’ He cuddled the baby closer as he held up one hand against any possible protest. ‘And before you say that you can’t, I’d gladly baby-sit for you.’
Dena couldn’t ever remember going out simply to have a good time. It had been quite impossible, unheard of at the home, and just when she’d won her freedom from Ivy Bank, here she was saddled with a young baby. She tried not to resent that fact because she loved Trudy to bits, but felt at times as if she were growing old before her time.
‘Would it make me seem like a bad mother if I had the odd evening out, do you think?’
Barry laughed. ‘No, it would make you human, and since you’d be happier and more relaxed, an even better mother. It’s all about moderation, Dena. A little bit of what you fancy does you good.’
‘Oh Barry, you’re so good to me. Like a father and a friend all rolled into one. Gwen works in Salford Hospital training to be a nurse. I’ll write and ask her. See what she says.’ And on a burst of happiness, she kissed him on both cheeks.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Kenny had no particular wish to find work. He didn’t care if people considered him unemployable, or if they thought him stupid. What did the clothes he wore have to do with anything? It was nobody’s business but his own if he wanted to be a Teddy Boy. All his mates dressed the same way, though admittedly not when they were going after a job. Daft cowards!
Besides, he was content to do odd jobs for his mother since he could largely come and go as he pleased. That way, his expenses were relatively small since he still lived at home, and he made a bob or two on the dogs which paid for his beer. He was always on the look-out for something he could turn to his advantage: a bit of buying and selling perhaps if the opportunity presented itself. He’d often find stuff folk wanted rid of, that others were glad to get their hands on.
Kenny didn’t like being tied down to fixed working hours, he preferred being out and about on the streets, having his mates around him ready to do his bid
ding, Chippy and Spider in particular. Sadly, Chippy now had a girl friend of his own and was less keen to go out on the town with the lads, and Spider was spending more and more time at the club with Barry, working out and training.
Kenny hated being alone, hated to have too much time to think as he always ended up feeling depressed and sorry for himself. And he had a great deal to feel sorry about: that little bitch leaving him hanging around at the altar like a prize idiot, for a start. No woman did that to him and got away with it.
He hated the fact that all his mates laughed behind their hands instead of seeing him as the great stud he really was.
Most of all, Kenny hated the fact that Dena seemed to love that dratted baby more than she loved him. It made him go all hot and angry inside, left him feeling raw with jealousy to see her fawning over that bastard, when really she should be paying more attention to him.
There were days when she wouldn’t even let him over the threshold, claiming that the baby was asleep and mustn’t be disturbed, or that she had too much to do to stop and chat with him.
Then half an hour later he’d see her leaning over the counter of Mr Ramsay’s stall chatting away as if she had all the time in the world, or laughing with Marco Bertalone as he chucked her under the chin and treated her to a free strawberry ice. Fast piece, that’s what she was. Anybody’s for twopence. While he was getting absolutely nothing from her.
He’d tried sending her flowers and cards but did she appreciate it? Not bleeding likely. There he was standing before her like some prize idiot while she told him off.
‘Stop wasting money. If you want to help, fetch me something good to eat once in a while, some baby food, or a packet of tea maybe. I can’t eat flowers. Nor can Trudy. They’re no help at all.’
Kenny really didn’t understand women. Weren’t they supposed to like romance and all that stuff? He told her straight that if she married him, she’d never need to worry again about where the next meal was coming from, shouted it at her and she shouted right back.
‘More like your mum would provide it, not you!’
What a thing to say! Kenny didn’t care for that, not one little bit. And now she’d started, she couldn’t seem to stop, like a flaming floodgate opening.
‘You’re a big disappointment to me, Kenny Garside. Always doing the wrong thing. So selfish you only ever think of yourself. At least Carl, bad tempered and unpleasant though he might be, is trying to make something of his life. What are you doing? Nothing! You don’t deserve to be the father of such a lovely baby.’
Kenny inwardly fumed, making a private vow that he’d find some way to show her what stern stuff he was made of. Big disappointment indeed! How dare she say such a thing?
She turned around at that point to pour warm milk on some baby cereal and he took the opportunity to give her precious darling a pinch on her bare toes. What a caterwauling that produced, and certainly brought Dena running. Serve her right, the selfish bitch!
It was one cold day in early January that Dena took Trudy to visit Winnie. She was keen to keep to her new year resolution and approach her former employer with a hope of getting her old job back.
‘She’s a very good baby,’ Dena was saying as Winnie stood staring down into the pram, an expression of something very like awe on her round face.
‘It’s none of my business but is she warm enough in that bonnet and matinee jacket? It’s a raw one today. A lazy wind what won’t go round but blows right through you.’
‘Course she is. She’d got on a full length suit underneath with leggings and everything. Would you like me to lift her out so’s you can hold her?’
‘Nay, best not. We don’t want her catching cold,’ Winnie said, fear and panic in her voice. ‘Anyway, knowing me, I might drop her. I’m not used to babies.’
The older woman was herself swathed in several layers of woolly cardigans, and the knitted hat with a bob on top that she always wore. It was indeed cold in the market hall and Winnie didn’t dare risk having any sort of electric fire behind her stall, as some of the other stall-holders did, because of the swathes of fabric hanging about. She had a very real fear of fire.
A customer appeared and, reluctantly, Winnie dragged herself away from the baby to serve her. ‘Are you sure you need four yards for that pattern, Mrs Jackson? Three and half should do, to my mind.’
‘If you say so, Winnie, then it must be right.’
A tape measure hung around her plump neck which she operated at lightening speed with practical, square hands. And when the length of fabric had been measured and cut, swiftly and neatly folded into a brown paper bag, the money paid and change given, Winnie sighed as she turned back to Dena.
‘Do myself out of business the whole time, I do. Why didn’t I just keep me trap shut and sell her the full four yards?’
‘Because you care about your customers, and she wouldn’t come back again if you oversold her fabric she didn’t need.’
Winnie looked at Dena consideringly. ‘I do miss you, lass. You were a good help to me. You’re sharp, and with a natural eye for style. You could do well in this trade.’
‘I was taught to sew in Ivy Bank, which might come in useful one day.’
‘Nay, I don’t do dressmaking, never have,’ Winnie protested. ‘Not that I’ve ever needed to.’
Dena shrugged. ‘Things might change.’ Trudy gave a little hiccup then a gurgle of pleasure at having made such a funny noise, and both women smiled down at her.
‘She’s such a happy baby. Sleeps like a good ‘un and never makes a murmur,’ Dena said, crossing her fingers behind her back against the white lie. Trudy was certainly getting better, though she still had her moments.
Winnie Watkins couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this close to a baby. Years ago probably, when she’d lost their Jeffrey. He’d been her second and last attempt at a family. Donald had told her she could mother him instead, but that hadn’t turned out quite as she’d expected either.
She tentatively put out one finger and was startled to find it grasped in a firm grip. ‘By heck, she’s strong. Look, she’s trying to eat my finger. I can feel her little gums.’
Dena laughed. ‘She’ll only suck it.’
‘I doubt she’d find it very tasty. Though I have washed me hands,’ Winnie hastened to add, in case Dena should be worried about hygiene.
Dena watched in silence for a moment, then taking a deep breath continued with her plea, determined not to give up easily. ‘I’m desperate to get going again. A few hours two or three mornings a week would do for a start, just to see how she behaves. If she’s a nuisance I’ll take her home right away.’
‘Well, that’d be no use for me, would it, having you playing box and cox? I wouldn’t know where I was.’ Winnie was leaning right over the pram now, muttering nonsense words. ‘Coochy-coochy-coo. Who’s a proper bobby-dazzler? Come on, chuck, give your Aunty Win a smile? Coochy-coochy-coo.’
Seeing Dena’s doleful expression and again feeling the irresistible tug of the tiny hand on her finger, Winnie found herself weakening. She was a pretty little thing right enough, just like her mam. And it wasn’t the babby’s fault, after all, that she’d been born out of wedlock and her mother was a sinner.
‘Aye, well, happen I’ll give it some thought. Talk it over with my Donald.’
Dena thanked her, then, swallowing carefully, cast her a sly sideways smile before adding, ‘I would want to serve customers this time though, Winnie. I think we’re both now fully aware of the state of your stock, and your storage room upstairs surely doesn’t need any more tidying. I spent weeks on that job alone.’
Winnie grinned good-naturedly. ‘Aye, happen we’ll let you loose on the Great British Public now that you’re decent again. If I decide in your favour, that is.’
‘I always was decent.’
‘You know what I mean. Though I’m no fan of Kenny Garside, you’d have been better off married to him than on your tod.’ She waited, brows arched i
n gentle enquiry for Dena’s response. None came. ‘Aye well, my Donald wouldn’t care for any hint of scandal.’
‘I’d like to meet your Donald one day, Winnie. Maybe he’d feel differently if he actually met Trudy, in the flesh as it were. She’s such an angelic little thing, a real sweetie, not an evil imp. Well, most of the time she is. Maybe he’d agree then to my having me old job back. I could take her round one afternoon. Today, if you like.’
‘No, you can’t do that!’ came Winnie’s swift response, far sharper than seemed necessary and Dena stiffened, hurt by what felt very like yet another rejection. A chasm yawned between the two women and Dena turned to go.
‘I’d best get going then. I dare say you must have a lot to do.’ Dena was annoyed at herself for swallowing her pride and begging for her old job back. All for nothing, it seemed, since there was still no definite offer of employment. Dena tugged up the little plaid blanket to Trudy’s chin to keep her warm against the cold January day and let off the brake.
As she began to wheel the pram away, head held characteristically high, Winnie called after her. ‘You could start with three mornings a week. Wednesday, Friday and Saturday. How would that do? Sharp at nine and don’t be late.’
Dena spun about, her face wreathed in a smile of heart-stopping delight. ‘Oh, that would be great, and I won’t be late, I promise. I’ll be there at nine on the dot. You won’t regret this Winnie, not for a minute.’
‘I hope I don’t,’ said Winnie, having difficulty speaking through a great lump suddenly lodged in her throat. ‘But only if my Donald agrees, mind.’
‘Of course.’ Dena ran and kissed Winnie on both cheeks. ‘I’m sure he will agree though. He must be a lovely man to care so much about you,’ and then rushed back to the pram and her baby, not noticing a tear roll down her employer’s cheek.
Belle was watching the touching little scene from behind the counter in the market café and pressed her scarlet lips together in annoyance. After all she’d done for that child, the girl had simply upped and left to work for that Winnie Watkins, who everyone knew was as mad as a hatter. At least if she’d married Kenny, Belle would have got her back working in the café for free.
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