She nodded at Pimple, but he, smiling at her, said, ‘Oh, I’m very glad with what I got, those lovely warm pants and vests and a decent shirt. But it’s better to wear me own togs on top of them, because if people saw me decently dressed I’d get less than I’m gettin’ now, and that’s not sayin’ much.’
‘Not a good day?’
Pimple shook his head sadly, saying, ‘People don’t appreciate opera. I’ve stood outside that Opera House for hours and picked up every note, and when I play it comes out as clear as a bell although I say it meself. But do folks take any notice? No. It has to be “Tipperary” or “All Alone on the Telephone” or some drivel like that, and if they’re in a picture queue they’ll hum along with you. But will they put their hands in their pockets? No. Just here and there, when it’ll be a penny, sometimes even a halfpenny. I feel like spittin’ in their eye for the halfpenny; yet once inside they’ll likely take tickets for the circle. Such is life.’
‘Aye,’ said Bella, ‘such is life, Pimple. Could be worse.’
‘Oh, aye. I’m not really grumbling, Bella.’
‘Why d’you do it, then?’ asked Bella. ‘I mean go around playing.’
‘Oh, you know why, I pick up things.’
‘Oh, you’ve tried that game before, but what did it fetch you? Nothing. As I’ve said before, you could end in the gutter with your throat slit one of these nights if any of them villains you’ve shopped found out.’
‘Aye, you’re right,’ said Pimple, ‘you’re right. But I don’t know what else I can do.’
They all turned now and looked towards the young woman, who was writing or drawing on a piece of paper. Bella went and stood near her, and the other two followed. Reenee did not lift her head, but went on drawing. Eventually what she had drawn amounted to two lines down the middle of the paper with, on each side, shorter lines running to the edge, ten short lines on one side and only seven on the other. At the end of these she had made two squares. In one she was now laboriously writing the name Joe; then in the other Pimple.
‘Well, what does all that mean?’ said Bella tersely.
Down the middle of the paper she now wrote the word beds.
‘Beds!’ Bella looked from one man to the other and she repeated, ‘Beds! What d’you think she means?’
It was as if Reenee answered for herself: getting to her feet, she pointed towards the steps leading downstairs, then cupped one side of her face in her hand and closed her eyes.
‘I know. I know,’ said Pimple quickly. ‘You’re making downstairs into a kip house, aren’t you?’
Irene nodded, the while making a sound they took as yes.
‘Oh, lass,’ said Bella, impatiently now, ‘and where d’you think you’d sleep?’
It was as if Reenee was trying to smile now as she thumbed towards the ceiling, and Bella came at her, saying, ‘So, you would go up there, would you? I’ve asked you twice if you’d take my old room but, no, you preferred to be downstairs by yourself.’ Then, looking towards the men, Bella said, ‘What an idea! How does she think we’re goin’ to get to the lav walkin’ through a line of mattresses every night?’ However, she turned to the girl again and acknowledged, ‘It was a good idea, my dear. Aye, it was. And if it could’ve been worked I would have had a new business set-up, and you know where the fruit could go to, and as far beyond. But no, lass; there’s no way that that can happen because the main thing for us is the lavatory. There’s nobody gonna get me to go out me front door and through that back gate and down to that dirty old hole next to your abode.’ As she spoke she turned to the lads and shook her head as though emphasising her decision.
‘You could have a lav put up here.’
‘Where, man? Where, I ask you? In this kitchen?’
Joe looked about him, then shrugged his shoulders. ‘Something could be done.’
‘Look!’ cried Bella. ‘Ten to twenty men sleeping downstairs and that one lav across the way? What’s goin’ to happen d’you think in that yard? Oh, no, thanks; I’d rather have the old horses back. We could shovel up their mess.’
‘Aye; you’re right,’ said Joe. ‘You’re always right. But it was a good idea;’ and he turned to acknowledge Reenee.
She hung her head as if in disappointment, but brought it up sharply again when Bella almost shouted, ‘And where’s the money comin’ from for mattresses, lavatories, new lavs up here? And that will only be the beginning. God, let’s talk sense! I’m sorry, lass. I’ll admit it was a marvellous idea, but what money I make now just manages to get us through, and that’s with a squeeze at times, I can tell you. Go on, now, you two, take your meal and get out of it. And if those fellows turn up tonight, have you enough tea down there to give them a drink?’
‘Oh, aye,’ said Pimple. ‘We don’t have it strong, and there’s quite a bit from the last quarter you gave us.’
‘Well, then, go on, get yourselves away.’
‘Good night, Bella.’
‘Good night, Bella.’
‘Good night, lads.’
‘Good night, Reenee.’ The two men spoke as one, and her lips opened as if she was about to speak; but no words came, yet the look on her face was telling them good night . . .
The next morning the four players stood in the hallway and looked in amazement at the pile of underwear, socks and boots that Bella had spread out on the bottom of the stairs, and at the coats and trousers that were hanging over the stair-rail.
‘The vests and pants and socks,’ she said, ‘you can make fit you somehow, but I’m afraid the trousers and coats are way beyond your size, except for you,’ and she pointed to the biggest of the men and she said, ‘What’s your name?’
‘Andy Anderson.’
‘What was your trade?’
‘I was a bricklayer, ma’am.’
‘Well, here! Try this coat on.’
The coat was a size too big, but it did not deter the man. He turned the cuffs up, then pulled one side of the coat over the other, saying, ‘Oh, I could fix this, ma’am. Willie there is good with his needle. He’d make new buttonholes for me, wouldn’t you, Willie?’
Willie did not answer, and Bella said to him, ‘What’s your name, son?’
‘Willie Young, ma’am.’
‘And what was your trade?’
‘I was a baker.’
‘I’m surprised you’re out of work,’ she said.
‘Oh, ma’am, you shouldn’t be surprised at anything that happens when you’re among starvin’ men and bairns. They broke into the shop one night and cleared the lot. It was a Sunday and the bakin’ had been done for the Monday mornin’. There was nothin’ left and the boss had had enough. That was the third time it happened, so there were five of us without work.’
‘Dear, dear.’ Bella picked up another coat, and handed it to the third man. ‘That’s miles too big for you, but put it on and see.’
They all laughed gently when they saw the shorter figure lost in the depths of the big jacket, but the man said, ‘I’ll take it, ma’am, if you wouldn’t mind. I can put a belt round the middle and Willie could see to the cuffs for me.’
Bella laughed. ‘Willie’s goin’ to have his work cut out. Now what d’they call you?’
‘Tony Brown, ma’am,’ and before she could ask the next question he added, ‘I was a plumber.’
Turning to the last man, she said, ‘That only leaves you.’
‘I was a ship’s carpenter, ma’am. Me name’s John Carter.’
‘And these trousers’ – Bella had taken them from the rail - ‘they’re very good stuff and they won’t fit any of you, I’m sure, but you could pawn them. You might get a bob or so on them because they’re tailored an’ all.’
‘We can’t thank you enough, ma’am,’ said Andy Anderson; ‘and for lettin’ us stay the night.’
‘Oh, I couldn’t see you had a very comfortable time of it lyin’ on tarpaulin, and over you, too.’
‘Oh, it’s amazin’, ma’am, how warm it was near that
wall, and after the lads had given us a mug of tea. You’ve got a pair of good lads there, ma’am.’
‘Yes. Yes, I suppose so.’
‘They think the world of you,’ said Willie Young.
‘Oh, aye?’ said Bella. ‘Well, that’s on good days. What they say about me on bad ‘uns can’t be repeated.’
They all laughed as they gathered up the clothes from the stairs, and it was John Carter, the carpenter, who said, ‘Can we go back, ma’am, down to the boys’ place and fit ourselves out?’
‘Yes; yes, of course.’
‘We wish we could do something for you, miss . . . ma’am,’ said Tony Brown now. ‘It isn’t often one meets with such kindness.’
‘Well, you haven’t got me to thank, really, but that big thick-headed Geordie Joe who recognised a neighbour’s voice. But go on now, and better luck today.’
They trooped out, still voicing their thanks; Bella returned to the kitchen, and said to Reenee, now standing at the farthest end of it, ‘I doubt from the looks of two of them they’ll see the winter through. It’s scandalous, scandalous.’ She shook her head, then said, ‘Well, we can’t do any more. That’s the end of it, so let’s get on with the day’s work.’
But apparently it wasn’t the end of it, only the beginning, for when Joe and Pimple came for their morning meal Joe said, very quietly, ‘Don’t go for me, Bella, I’m only doing things for the best; but those lads were tellin’ me last night of some of the kips they’d had to sleep in, and they were disgraceful, while the decent ones charged a shilling a night for a bowl of soup, a can of tea the next morning and a wash. I told them about Reenee’s idea for the kip made out of the cellar kitchen, and how it sounded impossible. Well, Bella, Andy the brickie said nothing’s impossible when altering a house, and he knows that ’cos he’s helped with many, and he wondered if you’d let him . . . well, look around and see what might be done here and work out how much it would cost like. What about it, Bella?’
‘Oh, my God!’ said Bella. ‘What next?’ She looked across at Reenee. There was an expectant look on the girl’s face, so she said, ‘Oh, all right. There can be no harm in that. Tell him to come in before they go.’
About half an hour later Bella nearly laughed outright at the assembly of different men standing at her front door. They must have put the new gear on top of the old, for even their trousers looked well padded now and two of the men, who were wearing the coats, appeared to be twice their size, at least in breadth. It was the bricklayer who spoke to her. ‘Ma’am, if you wouldn’t mind, would you let us have a look round? We might be able to work something out, and that might help you with your plan the lads were telling us about last night.’
‘My plan?’ Bella cried. ‘I have no plan. It was a pipe dream of somebody’s.’ She didn’t name Reenee.
‘Well, ma’am, we feel we want to do something for you, and it will be no harm leaving you with a few suggestions if ever the idea should come to anything.’
Bella was stopped from answering by seeing Reenee scampering up the stairs.
‘Have we frightened her, ma’am?’ said one of the men.
‘No, you see, she’s lost her memory, or most of it, and whatever’s happened to her . . . Well, men had something to do with it, and between you and me she can’t bear the sight of them. But about your suggestion. You seem set on repaying me, so if it’s going to please you, do as you say and have a look round. But I’m warning you, that’s as far as it’ll go. I haven’t any money and I have enough to worry about in keeping my little business going.’
‘Now, you two, listen to me,’ said Bella. ‘As I’ve told you, I haven’t the money to see this thing through. And I can understand those fellows’ enthusiasm: they’re in such a state they’d go to any length to have a settled place to kip and a regular bite in their bellies. It’s all very fine, talk and planning, but it’s happening too swiftly for my liking. No, I’m not for it. Up till now I’ve lived quietly without all this fuss and bother; for what is it going to come to in the end? As far as I can see, nothing. They’ll be back where they started, and our lives will go on as before.’
Suddenly she turned on Reenee, almost yelling now, ‘And don’t you look like that, lass! It’s me that has to pay the piper, as the saying goes. So let’s hear no more about it. I’ll tell them in the morning. They’ve gone mad with their measuring and planning.’
But she didn’t tell them in the morning for she had something more serious to think about. Reenee had gone. My God, she would go mad!
This was the outcome of last night. Why had she allowed the men to go up in the attic to see what was there? She had given way to her own curiosity and thought she might as well make use of them while they were here. And what had they found? Everything you’d find in a children’s playroom: broken dolls’ houses and all kinds of toys, including two moth-eaten teddy bears, besides broken furniture.
Joe had discovered a beam running across the ceiling and through the wall into the cobbler’s place, indicating that at one time perhaps the two houses had been one.
But what had caused the upset with Reenee was the larger moth-eaten teddy bear. After the four men had gone, having taken all the oddments of furniture down into the yard, Reenee had come down from her bedroom, and when she sat by the fireplace Bella had picked up the moth-eaten bear she had kept back and taken it to her, saying, ‘What d’you think about this, what’s left of the poor thing?’ as she dropped it on to Reenee’s lap, only to exclaim, ‘Oh dear!’ as Reenee, suddenly grabbing the bear, began to rock herself back and forth, moaning what seemed to Bella and the two men the same word over and over again. Bella was gripping Joe’s arm as she said, ‘God in heaven! She’s had a bairn at some time.’
Neither Joe nor Pimple made any comment, they just stared at the wailing figure, for now Reenee’s voice had risen as she rocked the bear.
‘She’ll make herself ill going on like that,’ said Bella. ‘We should try to get it from her.’
‘I wouldn’t,’ put in Pimple. ‘Just leave her.’ And they stood watching the swaying figure hugging to her the remnants of the teddy bear until, slowly, she seemed exhausted and lay back in the chair, but still with the bear clutched to her breast, its head tucked under her chin.
Bella had approached her quietly, saying, ‘There you are, lass. There you are.’ She looked down into the streaming face and the tears came into her own eyes. She’d never had a child of her own, never wanted one, having been brought up among too many, so she had never known the love of a child, or for one, but she was experiencing it now. This girl was acting out of passion, of feeling. It was as if she had found her child again, long lost.
It was a good ten minutes later that the tension in Reenee’s body seemed to seep away and she lay limply in the chair.
Quite suddenly, Pimple turned and walked to the far end of the kitchen, opened the door and went out, and Joe, about to follow him, said something that amazed Bella. He looked at her and murmured, ‘Things happen in life that are too hard to bear. They are much worse than being hungry and frozen at nights,’ and at this he, too, turned and left her.
It was at the twelve o’clock break that Bella left the stall to Pegleg and went indoors, but Reenee wasn’t in the kitchen.
Bella went to the top of the stone stairs, but told herself not to be silly, she wouldn’t be down there: those fellows were probably still about. She turned round and went to the foot of the hall stairs and called, ‘Reenee!’
When there was no reply she called again. Then she went quickly up the stairs and unceremoniously into the second bedroom. She pulled open the wardrobe door, then emitted the words, ‘Oh, my God!’ because neither the discoloured coat nor the weird cap were hanging there. But the bear was lying at the bottom of the wardrobe. What was there too was the dress Bella had got from Ginnie’s a few weeks ago and had persuaded Reenee to wear round the house. The velvet dress was gone as well.
‘Oh, my God!’ She sat on the edge of the bed. Wher
e would she have gone to in her state of mind? It had been bad enough until last night, but the hugging of that moth-eaten old bear must have brought back something in her past in a way that had driven her out to find it. She must send somebody looking for her. But Joe wasn’t here, at least not for another half-hour, and you could never depend upon Pimple. But she must get Joe. Yes, she must get Joe.
She was running down the stairs quicker than she had done for a long time, through the kitchen and into the backyard where two of the men were standing talking; and she cried at them, ‘You know the warehouse where Joe works?’
‘Aye, ma’am. Aye.’
‘Well, go and fetch him. Tell him that she’s gone, the lass . . . the woman . . . she’s gone.’
‘You mean your . . . that . . . your girl?’
‘Never mind who I mean, he’ll know who I mean. Get yourself away!’
Within fifteen minutes Joe was standing in front of her, saying, ‘You don’t mean it?’
‘I do. I do. Her coat, hat and the red velvet dress. All she ever owned. In fact, just what she came in here with she’s gone out with, and I don’t know where to send you lookin’.’
‘Somebody must’ve spotted her. She’ll stand out, always did.’
As Joe was hurrying from her she shouted to him, ‘Where d’you think Pimple will be playin’?’
‘God knows, Bella; he gets around. But I’ll away.’
It was half an hour before Joe returned. He stood before her silently and shook his head.
Bella plumped down on to a kitchen chair, laid her head on her folded arms on the table, and began to cry. When she felt his hand patting her shoulder she straightened herself, wiped her face quickly with the end of her apron and said, ‘I - I can’t tell you, Joe, how I’ve come to like that lass. I know half her mind’s been lost in the past but I’d an idea it would come through one of these days. But till then I wanted to look after her. And it’s selfish in a way because she has brought light into my life that wasn’t here before I saw her lyin’ that day among the boxes and the rotten fruit.’
The Silent Lady Page 11