Christmas is for Children

by Rosie Clarke

  ‘I don’t think I will,’ Ben said. ‘Pinched stuff ain’t worth havin’…’

  ‘Good lad,’ John said and smiled. ‘I’m glad you told me about the man who dumped my box – I shall keep an eye out for him in future…’

  Robbie nodded his satisfaction. ‘We’ll all see you on Christmas Day…’

  ‘I shan’t stop you doin’ any of the little jobs you’re offered,’ Robbie told his son as they left the mission. ‘Arnie is a bit shady and if you’re sensible you’ll be careful of him, Ben. A paper round is all right – but if you suspect you’re being asked to do something wrong walk away.’

  ‘He knows I won’t have anythin’ to do wiv the shady side of his business,’ Ben said. ‘But if you say I can’t work there I won’t.’

  ‘I’ll let you decide but be careful…’

  Ben promised faithfully he would and Robbie nodded. His son was growing up even though he wasn’t ten until after Christmas. He knew wrong from right and he’d have a word with Arnie, make sure he knew that he would answer to Robbie if he got the boy involved in something shady.

  Robbie walked with his hand on Ben’s shoulder. He was proud of his son and his pride made him want to make a better life for them all. The work on the mission roof would be a good start, but he was not going to give up the small jobs he’d taken on for folk locally. If things went well he would be his own master. He would have time to be there when his children needed him and look after the house more than he had when he’d been forced to spend hours just standing in line waiting for a menial job. Now he was doing something that made him feel worthy again and life was suddenly so much brighter. There was a social evening at the church hall on Christmas Eve, perhaps he could ask Flo to come as his guest and take the kids, make it a family outing – though Honour would sadly have to stay home to watch over Mr Hawkins…

  20

  ‘Your father says you can take the things I give you,’ Millie Waters said to the little girl who sat on the side of her bed and looked at the beautiful pictures in her book. ‘You can take your book home with you if you like.’

  Millie’s bed was now in the parlour and Robbie had brought down the little Christmas tree that Ben had fetched from the market. Ruthie had hung some paper chains over pictures and the mirror so that it looked very festive.

  ‘I’d rather look at it with you, Granny Millie,’ Ruthie said shyly. ‘I like being here with you. Ben is always busy doin’ jobs, but I like to sit quiet in here and look at the pictures.’

  ‘You’re a little love,’ Millie said and smiled at her. ‘I’ve got somethin’ else for you – but that is a surprise for Christmas. I’m goin’ ter give it to yer dad and he’ll put it in yer stockin’…’

  ‘I don’t know if I’ll have a stockin’ this year,’ Ruthie said, looking wistful. ‘Last year Mum was ill and she just gave us a tangerine and sixpence for sweets, though Father Christmas brought me somethin’ – but I know girls who didn’t get anythin’, not even a tangerine…’

  ‘Times are hard just now,’ Millie said. ‘When I was a girl, I always got a few nuts, an orange if Ma could get one, a sixpence and a packet of sweets in my stockin’. Sometimes we’d get a new pair of boots or a dress if we were lucky. My dad worked on the railways and he never lost a day’s work until he took ill of a fever and died sudden at the age of fifty-four. I was fourteen then and I worked in the glove factory for one shillin’ and sixpence a week. My mother took a shillin’ from my pay each week – but while my dad lived we never went short. My Bert was the same; he worked in the jam factory most of his life, except for his war work, and my Terry was goin’ ter be a motor mechanic. Me youngest would’ve been a railway man if he’d ’ad a chance. I’ve never been rich but I’ve never been poor, neither…’

  ‘Ben’s friend from school sometimes has nothin’ to eat all day,’ Ruthie said and frowned. ‘He smells and his hair is full of nits. Sometimes we get them at school and the nurse scrubs our head with stuff that stings and smells bad.’

  Millie laughed. ‘All the kids had ’em when I was your age, love. We was used to ’em and didn’t take much notice – ’cept when we got our heads put under the pump in the yard and scrubbed with coal tar soap. The water was freezin’ and I usually ended up wiv the sniffles…’

  Ruthie loved hearing about when Millie was young, about the dresses with hoops in and how Millie used to hide in the outside toilet and take them out before she went off to work. Millie’s mother was strict and made her wear long bloomers and corsets that pulled her in so tight she felt like fainting. She used to take her corsets off sometimes, too, and if her mother found out, she got the cane on her legs.

  ‘I remember when I first set eyes on my Bert,’ Millie said. ‘I was sixteen then and earning two shillings and sixpence, and I didn’t tell my mother I’d had a raise. I spent the extra on some shiny black patent button boots so I’d look smart and get Bert to notice me. He was all dressed up and off to church and he smiled at me as I lifted my skirt just enough to show me ankle. That was a flirty thing to do in them days. Bert told me later, when we was courtin’, that I had neat ankles and that’s what he liked – that and me cheeky smile…’

  Ruthie laughed and then leaned in and kissed Millie’s soft, papery thin skin on her cheek. She smelled of talcum powder and violets and Ruthie wanted to put her arms about her and stay there forever.

  They heard the kitchen door go and Ben’s voice calling to her. He popped his head round the bedroom door.

  ‘Me and Dad went to the chip shop and we’ve brought yer a bit of fish between yer and some chips. Dad’s puttin’ ’em on plates now and he’ll put yer a bit of salt and vinegar on – and bring you both a cup of tea, and then we’re off for our dinner. Is there anythin’ else yer want, Bert – Millie?’

  ‘You shouldn’t ’ave gone to all that trouble,’ Bert said. ‘A bit of bread and jam would’ve done – not that fish and chips won’t be a real treat. We used to ’ave that every Friday night once, didn’t we, gel?’

  ‘I can smell it and it has made me feel hungry,’ Millie said. ‘You’re a good boy, Ben – and Bert has got a present for you…’

  ‘I don’t need nothin’,’ Ben said. ‘Yer pay me when I do a big job – the chips are Dad’s treat…’

  ‘I meant a Christmas present. I’ll give the presents to yer dad fer yer to open when you wake up.’

  ‘No need, we’ll be round ter see yer early afore we go to the mission,’ Ben told her. ‘I might ’ave somethin’ fer you an’ all…’

  Millie shook her head at him. ‘Silly boy. You do too much fer us now…’

  ‘I like comin’ ’ere and so does Ruthie,’ Ben said and grinned. ‘We need to do somethin’ fer all that bread and jam yer keep givin’ us…’

  His father arrived then with two trays of fish and chips set neatly on plates and sprinkled with salt and vinegar. Their cups of tea were placed on the little chests besides their beds. Robbie settled the trays on their laps and looked round the room.

  ‘Is there anythin’ else yer need, Millie? I want to get off, because it was snowing a bit as we came in, not sure it will settle, but if it gets worse I want this pair home in the warm.’

  ‘No, thank you, Robbie. We’re all right now, aren’t we, Bert?’

  ‘More than,’ Bert said and forked a mouthful of the crisp batter and tender fish. ‘Just the job, lad. I fancied somethin’ different…’

  ‘Effie will come in later and see to your fire – and then I’ll come last thing,’ Robbie said.

  ‘I think Flo is goin’ to come round when she’s closed her shop,’ Millie said. ‘She and Honour have been workin’ so hard on their gifts for the kids that she hasn’t been in as much as she’d hoped, but we’ve had lots of folk poppin’ in to see we’re all right…’

  ‘Come on, Ruthie,’ Robbie said and held out his hand to her. ‘We’re goin’ home for our dinner now. Say thank you to Millie for havin’ yer.’

  ‘Thank you, Granny Millie…�
� Ruthie said.

  ‘It was a blessin’,’ the elderly lady said. ‘I’ll see yer in the mornin’ then…’

  ‘It’s Christmas Eve tomorrow,’ Ruthie said and her eyes lit with excitement. ‘We’ve got paper chains and a tiny Christmas tree at home… Ben got it fer a shillin’ off the market.’

  ‘I bet that looks nice,’ Millie said and popped a piece of fish in her mouth. She smiled across at her husband as she swallowed. ‘This takes me back a bit…’

  Robbie shepherded his children from the house and told Ben to keep hold of his sister’s hand as they crossed the road. They could hear the sounds of carols on the frosty air. The snow was very light and would probably be gone by morning, hardly enough to make a snowball. He was whistling and felt happier than he had for a long time. It had felt good to buy a small treat for the elderly folk and it had put a spring in his step, because he was suddenly feeling like the confident man he’d been before his luck turned bad…

  *

  ‘Now, you’ll be all right, Dad?’ Flo asked that evening after they’d all eaten sardines on buttery toast and a slice of hot jam roly-poly suet pudding with custard. ‘I’m goin’ round to Millie and Bert’s house. I’ve got a few treats for them and I haven’t been for a couple of days, because we’ve been too busy, but we’ve got all the children’s gifts ready. Honour has counted them three times to make sure there’s enough – and we’ve got lots more sixpences than we need.’

  ‘Well, keep them for another time,’ her father said. He looked at Honour. ‘What about you, girl? Don’t you want to go out? What happened to that boyfriend?’

  ‘He’s been too busy to come round,’ Honour said and looked away quickly from eyes that saw too much. She’d never told him about Roy and it made her feel hot because it seemed he’d known all along.

  ‘Why don’t yer pop round and see that girl Kitty yer friendly wiv for a while. I’ll be all right here by the fire for an hour or so…’

  ‘I could take her Christmas present,’ Honour said. ‘I made her some fudge and I bought her a pair of silk stockings…’

  ‘Wastin’ money on fripperies,’ Mr Hawkins shook his head, but there was no malice in his words. ‘Off with the both of yer then. I’ll listen to the wireless and doze here by the fire.’

  ‘I’ve heard the King is going to broadcast to the nation on Christmas Day.’

  ‘Aye, I’ll be listenin’ to that,’ her father said and nodded, pleased. ‘It’s the first time an English monarch has done it and that’s history, my girl.’

  ‘I’ll get Kitty’s present,’ Honour said and dashed upstairs.

  Flo packed her basket with the small treats she’d made for Bert and Millie: mince pies, ten rum truffles, a little bag of fudge and a small tin of mint humbugs, also a tin of pink salmon and a jam sponge.

  ‘Off yer go then, love,’ her father said. ‘Don’t linger on the streets and catch cold.’

  ‘I shan’t,’ she promised and then bent to kiss his cheek.

  It was about six minutes’ walk through dimly lit streets which were a little icy underfoot and might be treacherous later, but Flo was wearing sensible flat shoes and she trod safely. She knocked at the door of the terraced house and then entered, calling out as she did so.

  Millie’s voice invited her to go through; it was the first time she’d visited since they’d had their beds downstairs and she looked about her with interest. The stained wooden boards of the parlour were covered with a faded carpet in a blue and red pattern Flo thought might be called Persian. Obviously old, it had probably been bought second-hand in one of the many shops selling such things in the East End, but it looked nice and good quality. The old-fashioned settee and chairs had been piled up in the corners and the beds were placed fairly close together so that the couple could talk to each other and the commode was in easy reach of both. The room had been decorated for Christmas and the couple had several festive cards on the sideboard, some of which looked as if children had made them.

  Someone had done some polishing that day, giving the room a pleasant smell of lavender, and Flo thought that must have been Effie. She saw that the window was opened just a little and there was a tiny vase of Christmas roses on a table.

  ‘How lovely they are,’ Flo said, admiring the flowers. ‘Where did they come from?’

  ‘Bert grows them in a cold frame in the back garden and Effie picked some for us,’ Millie said. ‘It’s not much more than a yard really, but it’s big enough. In the summer we grow a few tomatoes and we managed a couple of cucumbers one year.’

  ‘You must have green fingers, Bert,’ Flo said. ‘Dad never got anything to grow in our back yard, though Mum once had a window box with pansies in it – but they died and she never bothered again.’

  ‘I like a bit of green,’ Bert said. ‘I couldn’t live in the country – but I like me cold frame…’

  ‘I brought a few small things for you, because I know you can’t get out, Millie. If you need anythin’ you just ask and either I or Honour will get it for you.’ Flo thought they both looked rested and happy and it lifted her spirits.

  ‘Only if you let me pay for what you bring,’ Millie said. ‘We can’t keep takin’ for nothin’…’

  ‘I’ve only brought a few Christmas things and I don’t want payin’ for them,’ Flo said, ‘but if you need groceries, of course I’ll take your money.’

  ‘Then I’ll give yer a list,’ Millie said. ‘I was goin’ ter ask Effie, but she’s already doin’ so much…’

  ‘I will be happy to help. We’ve been workin’ flat out but we’ve finished all the extra sweets we made for the children now and I’ll have more time.’

  ‘I heard what you and that sister of yours are doin’ fer the kids,’ Millie said. ‘I thought it was a lovely thing, Flo – Christmas is fer the kids after all, ain’t it?’

  ‘Yes, that’s how I felt,’ Flo confided. ‘We’ve been busy in the shop. A lot of my customers are not as hard hit by the depression as folk around here and they bought our home-made sweets to save money – told me they were cuttin’ down on what they spent on their friends and families. It made me think of how little some people have. Those truffles would be a luxury for most people – but one lady thought she was lowerin’ her sights to give them to her posh friends. I suppose I got angry and thought about the children who will have nothing at the bottom of their beds on Christmas mornin’.’

  ‘There’s so many of them in the same boat.’ Millie nodded and dabbed at the corner of her eyes with a hanky. ‘Last year Ruthie and Ben didn’t get much, but this year we’re giving them somethin’ – and so is their dad. It won’t make up for not havin’ a mum, but it helps a little…’

  ‘They will get one of our Christmas boxes at the mission,’ Flo said and smiled. ‘I’ve also got both of them a little present. They’re lovely children, aren’t they?’

  ‘That girl is a little angel,’ Millie said sentimentally. ‘I look forward to her visits every day. Ben helps Bert – he started long before either of us were ill and we don’t forget that, but Ruthie makes my heart melt with love…’

  ‘Yes, I know just what you mean,’ Flo said and tears stung her eyes. ‘Speaking of angels…’

  They heard the kitchen door open and then the sound of children’s excited voices, and then Ben and Ruthie entered, their father just behind.

  ‘Don’t jump on the bed, Ruthie,’ her father said. ‘Ben bring the coal scuttle through and I’ll fill them all up while I’m about it. I’m goin’ ter make the range right for the night, Bert. Effie saw us come in and said she’ll be round first thing.’

  ‘I’ll be up in the mornin’,’ Bert said. ‘I’m glad yer brought the beds down, Robbie lad. It will make all the difference if Millie wants a rest in the afternoon, but we’re both feelin’ better and we’ll be able to get up a bit fer Christmas…’

  ‘That’s wonderful,’ Robbie said and grinned at him. ‘I’ll bank that fire up and make a cup of tea – or cocoa if you would
rather?’

  ‘We need some cocoa – that’s on my list,’ Millie told Flo. ‘My purse and the list is on the table there, love. If you can bring the shoppin’ round tomorrow…’

  ‘I’ll come over when I’ve got a free moment,’ Flo agreed. ‘I’ll be on my way now that you have more visitors. I’m so glad you’re feelin’ better…’ She followed Robbie back into the kitchen. ‘I’ve got something for the children at home,’ she told him. ‘They’ll get one of our boxes at the mission – but I bought a little gift for both of them, if you could nip in and fetch it tomorrow?’

  ‘I’ve got a lot on – it may not be until later in the evening…’

  ‘That doesn’t matter,’ Flo said and smiled at him. ‘John visited my father this afternoon. He told me that you’d been offered the job of repairing the mission roof. That’s good isn’t it?’

  ‘It’s the answer to my prayers,’ Robbie said and looked at her in such a way that her heart raced. ‘I owe it to you and your father, Flo – if he hadn’t given me his tools I couldn’t have done it.’

  ‘You never heard anything about those you lost?’

  He shook his head ruefully. ‘They were worth good money. In these hard times folk keep what they find too often… but it was my own fault. I shouldn’t have had that whisky Josh bought me. I can handle a couple of pints but the whisky made me stupid.’

  ‘Well, it seems to have turned out all right,’ Flo said. ‘I’ll expect you tomorrow evening, Robbie.’ He picked up her coat and held it for her, his hand just brushing her cheek. She smiled up at him, her heart jumping. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘I don’t suppose you’ll have time to pop down the church social with me tomorrow evening? I thought we could take the kids for an hour or so…’

  Flo shook her head but looked regretful. ‘I’ll be busy, but thank you – perhaps another time?’

  ‘Yes, why not?’ He sounded disappointed and Flo wished she might have gone with him, but there was a lot to do on Christmas Eve, preparing the stuffing and food for the next day. A roast cockerel was a delicious meal with a deeper flavour, but it took more preparation than a chicken and needed to be cooked slowly to make it tender. Besides, she’d promised Honour she could visit her friends if she wished.