Bert looked up at her coyly, ‘Well, most of the time, my angel. Only most of the time.’
‘Talking of presents, Mary Ann’s embroidering a handkerchief for Dan with a big curly “D” in one corner. She says that she’s doing something for me at school. Miss Edwina’s helping her, but she won’t tell me what it is. Says it’s to be a surprise. And that reminds me,’ Bessie murmured more to herself now than to Bert, ‘I still haven’t had a word with Miss Edwina about the money. Reckon I’ll have a walk up to the school tomorrow morning.’
Twelve
‘So did the little minx ask you for money to buy a present for Dan?’
Edwina bit her lip. ‘Er, well, not exactly.’
Bessie nodded and smiled, ‘Ah, I thought so. You gave her some. Oh Miss Edwina, you are good, you—’
Edwina was shaking her head. Softly she said, ‘No, Bessie, I didn’t give her any money.’ She met Bessie’s gaze steadily and the sadness that was always in her eyes deepened, but now for a very different reason. ‘Two shillings went missing out of my purse last Thursday.’
Bessie closed her eyes and groaned. ‘Oh no.’
‘I thought, at first, it was the kitchen maid. But she’s been here six months and nothing has ever gone missing before. Then I remembered I sent Mary Ann from the classroom to fetch a book from my office.’ Edwina waved her hand to indicate the bookcase standing against one wall of the room where they were sitting. ‘My purse was lying here on my desk.’ She spread her hands. ‘I know, I know, it was careless of me. I shouldn’t have left it lying about, but I didn’t think that anyone here would . . .’ Her voice trailed away sadly.
‘What are you going to do? Bring the police in?’
‘Oh no, Bessie. Heavens! Not for two shillings.’
Bessie shook her head. ‘It’s not the amount that matters, Miss Edwina, if you don’t mind me saying so. It’s the principle.’
‘Well, yes, but . . .’ Edwina put her hand to her forehead. ‘Oh dear, how silly of me to have put temptation in that poor child’s way. She has so little in her life. I should have realized.’
Bessie gave a wry sniff of disapproval. ‘Don’t blame yourself, Miss Edwina. You’re not used to having children in your school whose parents haven’t a ha’penny to scratch their backsides with. If anyone’s to blame, then it’s me for bringing her to you. Besides, she should know better than to go stealing. Her circumstances aren’t that bad. Mind you,’ Bessie’s kind heart forced her to reconsider, ‘with Sid Clark for her dad, it isn’t any wonder really.’
‘What do you know about her background?’
‘Very little. I haven’t learnt any more about the family since the day I brought her here. They’re a close lot. He doesn’t even loosen his tongue when he’s having a pint with my Bert.’ Grimly, she added, ‘Mebbe they have got summat to hide.’
Edwina sighed heavily. ‘Do you want to be here when I speak to her?’
Bessie considered for a moment. ‘No. ’Tain’t my place, really. If anyone ought to be here it’s her mother. Or her father, God forbid! But not me.’ She heaved herself to her feet. ‘What are you going to do, Miss Edwina? Expel her?’
‘Goodness, no!’ Edwina was shocked. ‘I’m going to try to help her.’
‘It’s very good of you. Maybe too good. I hope she won’t throw your kindness back in your face.’
Edwina, too, rose and walked with Bessie to the door. ‘Leave it with me. I’ll give the matter some thought before I do anything.’ She sighed as she added, ‘It’s at this sort of time that I miss Christopher the most. He was so calm and level-headed in a situation like this. He would have known exactly the best way to handle it. And he was kind as well, he wouldn’t have wanted to be too harsh on the child, I know.’
Bessie patted Miss Edwina’s hand. ‘You’ll do the right thing, I know you will.’
When Mary Ann arrived home that afternoon, Bessie saw her crossing the yard and going straight to her own home instead of skipping into the Ruddick house as she always did.
Oh dear, Bessie thought, it looks like Miss Edwina’s said something already and the girl daren’t face me. But half an hour later Mary Ann appeared at Bessie’s back door, holding two badly wrapped small parcels in her hand.
Bessie noticed at once that although there was a smile plastered on the girl’s face, her eyes were red, but all Mary Ann said was, ‘I’ve brought your presents round. One for you and Uncle Bert and one for Dan.’
Bessie smiled. ‘I thought you’d have kept them until the party.’
‘Oh no, I want you to have them on Christmas morning.’
‘You won’t see us open them, though, will you?’
The disappointment showed plainly on the girl’s face. A smile tugged at the corner of Bessie’s mouth. The little minx, she thought, she’s angling to be asked here for Christmas Day. Then she relented. Bending down she said, ‘Tell you what. As long as ya mam doesn’t mind, you can come round after dinner on Christmas Day. About three o’clock and we’ll all save our presents and open them then, eh? How would that be?’
The girl’s eyes shone and she flung her arms around Bessie and pressed her face against her. ‘Oh Auntie Bessie. Thank you. That would be wonderful.’
‘But you must remember to ask your mam,’ Bessie said firmly and then added, ‘and then you’re all coming to our little party on Boxing Day, aren’t you?’
‘Now, Amy, I won’t take no for an answer. You’re coming to our party.’
‘I will if I’m back, Bessie.’
‘Back? Back where from?’ Bessie asked, surprised.
‘I’m going to me sister’s in Lincoln on Christmas Eve and staying over. I was planning to come back on Boxing Day, that’s if I can get here. I don’t know if there’ll be any trains running.’
Bessie nodded. ‘In that case, I’ll let you off, ’cos I’m glad to hear you’re going to your sister’s. It’ll do you good to get away for a bit.’
A ghost of a smile lit Amy’s tired face. ‘I don’t know about that, Bessie. I daren’t stay away too long. What’d I do without you to bully me?’
Bessie chuckled and the two women smiled at one another.
‘So? What happened? Did you speak to her, ’cos she’s said not a word to me.’
Once more Bessie was sitting in Edwina’s study, a cup of tea in her hand and, under cover of the desk, easing her feet out of her shoes.
‘Yes, I did. She was heartbroken, Bessie, that I’d found her out and begged me not to tell you or Dan. I didn’t tell her that it had been you who had alerted me. She doesn’t think you know anything about it.’
‘But she admitted taking it?’
‘Oh yes. She wanted to buy Dan a Christmas present. You see . . .’ Edwina sighed again. ‘I suppose I must have put the idea into her head in a way.’
‘I wish you’d stop trying to take the blame, Miss Edwina. There’s no excuse for her being light-fingered.’
Edwina smiled. ‘No, no, you’re right, Bessie. Of course you are. But as I was saying, I suggested that she make something for you – I can’t tell you what, I don’t want to spoil her surprise – but of course I provided her with the materials. I actually gave her some money to go into town one lunchtime and buy what she needed. So,’ Edwina spread her hands, ‘I suppose when she wanted to get Dan something, she thought I wouldn’t mind.’
‘I know you wouldn’t, but did you tell her that she should have asked you?’
‘Oh yes, I was very firm about it. I said what she had done was stealing and that if she ever did such a thing again I would have to get the police in and tell her father and . . . and you and Dan.’ Edwina shook her head. ‘Do you know, she didn’t bat an eyelid when I mentioned the police or her father. But when I threatened to tell you and Dan she became almost hysterical.’
‘I could see that she’d been crying when she got home, but she never said a word to me about it.’
‘Of course she wouldn’t. Nor will she. The last thing she wan
ts is for you or Dan to find out.’
There was silence between them for a moment before Edwina added, ‘The thing that shocked me the most was when she said, quite offhandedly, that if her father found out he’d take his belt to her.’
Bessie placed her empty cup and saucer down on the desk. ‘He would,’ she said shortly. ‘There’s no doubt about that.’
‘Then we’ll have to make sure he doesn’t find out, won’t we? I think she’s learnt her lesson.’
‘I hope so,’ Bessie said, with feeling. ‘I really hope so.’
Thirteen
‘Bert, this has been one of the best Christmas Days we’ve ever had. An’ that’s saying summat, ’cos we’ve had some good ’uns.’
‘It’s all thanks to you, my angel.’ Bert kissed his wife soundly. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so much in my life.’ He patted his stomach, though there was not an ounce of spare fat on his thin frame. ‘I’ll be as round as you are soon, if you keep feeding me like that.’
‘Eh, watch your cheek, m’lad, else you’ll not get your last present of the day when we get to our bed.’
Bert chuckled happily, safe in the knowledge that his wife would not carry out her dire threat. They were sitting contentedly by the fire’s last glow at the end of a hectic and happy day. Early in the evening, Dan had left to go to Susan’s house and the other two boys were out, continuing the day’s merrymaking in their own way.
‘Aye, it’s been a grand day, love. We’ve not been able to make merry properly for a few years now, have we?’
‘Not while the war was on, no. And even last year, with it only having just finished a month or so before and all those poor lads trickling home, well, it was difficult, wasn’t it?’
Bert nodded.
‘But this year,’ Bessie smiled. ‘It’s different. Even Amy’s bucking up now. And when we get into the New Year. Fancy, 1920 already. Makes me feel old, Bert.’
‘Old?’ Bert grinned. ‘You’ll never be old to me, light of my life.’ Then his smile faded a little as he added, ‘There was only one sad moment.’ He sighed and shook his head. ‘When that poor little lass came in from next door and sniffed the air and said how good your dinner smelt.’
‘Oh dear, yes. I never thought for a moment that her mam wouldn’t have cooked a proper Christmas dinner.’
‘Ne’er mind, love.’ Bert was smiling broadly again now. ‘She got one, didn’t she?’
Bessie laughed, remembering the plate she had set before Mary Ann, piled high with turkey, stuffing, sausage and bacon rolls, potatoes and Brussels sprouts. ‘Where she put it all, I don’t know. She must be like you, Bert, got hollow legs.’
‘I don’t know about that, love. But one thing I do know, she’s got clever fingers.’
Bessie’s eyes followed his gaze to the framed sampler now hanging in pride of place above their mantelpiece. It had been Mary Ann’s gift to Bessie. Worked in cross-stitch on canvas were Bessie and Bert’s names with the date of their marriage and beneath it were listed the names of their three sons with their dates of birth. Round the edge were tiny images of things that were important in their lives: wedding bells, a house, a ship and a cradle.
‘And them hankies she gave our Dan. I suppose she embroidered them an’ all,’ Bert said.
‘Er, yes.’ Bessie’s pleasure at the sight of the gift that the girl had given Dan had been marred by the memory of how she had acquired the money to buy it.
‘What is it, Bess?’
‘Bert Ruddick,’ Bessie smiled at him, ‘you know me a mite too well, don’t you?’
‘Well now, I could see a little cloud come into those sparkling eyes of yours when I mentioned the lass’s gift to our Dan. What is it that bothers you, eh? Think she’s getting a bit too attached to him, d’you?’
Bessie’s eyes widened in astonishment. That thought had never entered her mind.
Bert nodded, understanding at once. ‘You hadn’t realized, had you? She’s growing up, love, and young girls of her age start to look at young fellers, now don’t they? She’s fallen for our Dan and no mistake.’
‘Oh Bert,’ Bessie said. ‘I never gave it a thought. I just thought, well, that she’d taken to him. You know, her being an only child an’ that . . .’ Her voice trailed away. ‘Oh dear,’ she murmured.
‘You still haven’t told me what’s bothering you. If it’s not that, then what is it? And don’t try telling me “nothing”.’ He wagged his finger at her in playful admonishment.
So Bessie told him the full story, but at the end all Bert said was, ‘Poor bairn.’
Bessie opened her mouth to remonstrate with him, but before she could utter a word, he said, ‘I know, I know what you’re going to say, my angel, and of course you’re quite right. Nothing gives anyone the right to take another’s belongings, but even so . . .’ He gave a huge sigh. ‘Even so, I still say, “poor bairn.” ’
Bert heaved himself up and held out his hand to his wife. ‘Come on, light of my life. If you’re to give the lass and her mother and father, to say nothing of half the neighbourhood an’ all, a good party tomorrow night, you’d best be up the wooden hill, down sheet lane and into blanket fair. Come on.’
It all began so well. Mary Ann was the first to arrive for the party, dressed in a red dress that Bessie hadn’t seen before.
‘Miss Edwina gave it to me. It’s brand new. I’ve never – ever – had a new dress before. Isn’t it lovely?’
‘It most certainly is,’ Bessie agreed, marvelling yet again at Edwina’s generosity of spirit.
Everyone in the Ruddick family complimented Mary Ann on her appearance and Duggie chased her round the front parlour, in use in honour of Christmas, with a sprig of mistletoe. Next came Minnie and Stan Eccleshall closely followed by the Merryweathers and the Horberrys.
Last of all Elsie and Sid Clark appeared at the back door and were ushered in to join the throng. Bert put a glass of beer into Sid’s hand and Bessie steered Elsie in the direction of Minnie. ‘You know everyone, don’t you?’ Bessie said and then carried on without waiting for an answer. ‘Here, Min, you look after Elsie for me while I see to things. Mary Ann, you come and help me carry the sandwiches through. Dan, get Stan a drink, will you? Duggie, put that mistletoe down and make yasen useful.’
At first the atmosphere was a little strained but as the beer flowed, everyone began to relax. All, that is, except Phyllis Horberry and her husband, Tom. Bessie could not help noticing, despite being so busy looking after everyone, that whenever Sid Clark turned to speak to one of them, they coldly ignored him and turned away.
‘Phyllis,’ Bessie said in a loud voice above the chatter. ‘Give us a hand in the kitchen, will you? I’ll get to the bottom of this,’ she muttered as she headed back towards the kitchen hoping Phyllis would follow her. At that moment a knock sounded at the back door.
‘That’ll be Amy, I ’spect. I’ll just let her in.’
‘I’ll go,’ Phyllis said swiftly.
From her scullery as she cut more bread and butter, Bessie could hear the low murmur of their voices and then, as she emerged carrying two plates, the two women glanced at her and their conversation ceased abruptly.
‘Hello, Amy,’ Bessie said cheerily and, careful how she phrased her words, asked tactfully, ‘Have a nice time with your sister, did you?’
‘Nice time? Nice time, you say?’ Amy’s voice was shrill and with more fire in it than Bessie had heard in a long time.
Bessie smiled. ‘Oh dear, got sore knees, have you, love?’ The extent of Bessie’s tactfulness was limited. Amy’s sister, Clara, was a devout Catholic who would no doubt have spent much of the Christmas period attending services and dragging a reluctant Amy with her. Amy, once a regular churchgoer herself, had had her own Christian beliefs badly shaken by the loss of her husband and son. Since that time she had never, to Bessie’s knowledge, set foot in the parish church, a defect which was high on Bessie’s list of priorities to remedy.
Amy was steppi
ng towards her, her thin neck stretching forward, like a chicken about to peck a rival. ‘Is it true?’
Bessie blinked. ‘Is what true?’
‘What Phyllis says?’
Bessie glanced at Phyllis, who was wearing a strange expression. It was a cross between her usual, self-satisfied smile when she had just imparted a particular juicy piece of gossip and a sudden look of panic.
‘Amy, no, don’t say anything.’ Phyllis put out her hand to restrain Amy. ‘I only told you in case you’d rather not come in. But don’t spoil Bessie’s party. Me and Tom were just going. He doesn’t want to stay. Not now he knows.’
‘Knows?’ Bessie said sharply. ‘Knows what?’
‘About that Sid Clark,’ Amy spat. ‘Where is he? I’ll tell him a thing or two . . .’
Before either of the women could stop her, Bessie hampered as she was by carrying two plates of bread and butter, Amy whirled about, rushed through Bessie’s kitchen and into the front room.
‘Oh law. I’m sorry, Bessie, I didn’t mean . . .’ Phyllis began, but Bessie was too busy hurrying after Amy to stay and listen to her.
Amy flung open the door with such violence that it crashed against Bessie’s prized china cabinet and the glass in the doors shattered. Amy, however, was unaware of what she had done.
‘Where is he? Where is that bloody coward?’
Everyone in the room seemed turned to stone as Amy launched herself forward towards Sid Clark, her fists flailing. Dan was the first to recover his senses and leap into action. He caught hold of Amy around her waist, but not before she had landed one punch at Sid’s shoulder.
There was little weight behind it for Amy, though like a wild thing at this moment, had little real strength. Sid staggered backwards more from shock than from the blow, the pint of beer he held in his hand slopping over on to Bessie’s best square of carpet, which had taken her and Bert ten years to save up for.
‘Here, here, what’s got into you, Amy?’ Bessie crashed the plates she was carrying down on to the table and rushed to help Dan.
The River Folk Page 9