The Songbird

by Val Wood

  ‘Any time now, I should think. But she has to go out again. We both have. We’ve got two jobs of work, you see. Well, Ma has three if we count ’wash-house and coming to your da’s place.’

  ‘I’ll wait for a minute, then,’ Poppy decided. ‘Thank you for coming with me,’ she said to Charlie. ‘You can go if you want to.’ Though she wanted him to stay. She’d be scared going back up the yard on her own.

  ‘I’ll be outside,’ he said. ‘I’ll have a smoke.’

  He left the small gloomy room, and Mattie raised her eyebrows. ‘I’m surprised he even came in,’ she said. ‘Fancies himself as a bit of a gent, don’t he?’

  Poppy gazed at her. How could she say that? Didn’t she see that he was very special? Different from most young men?

  ‘How’s that brother of yourn?’ Mattie sat down and eased off her boots. ‘Sit down,’ she said. ‘Make yourself at home.’

  ‘I can’t stay long.’ Poppy sat on a wobbly wooden chair. ‘I should be getting back. Pa will be worrying. I thought Nan would be in. Tommy’s fine, thank you,’ she added.

  ‘What did you want to see Ma for?’ Mattie asked curiously. She had an open freckled face, with fair hair like her mother’s, and she stared at Poppy with a frank expression.

  Poppy hesitated. Mattie would know, she thought. She works, so she’s grown up I suppose. ‘Erm, I wanted to know about, erm – reaching womanhood,’ she muttered. ‘My dance teacher, Miss Davina, said I should ask somebody if I hadn’t reached it. And I don’t know if I have or not.’

  Mattie grinned. ‘She meant your monthlies, didn’t she? Some women don’t like to say it.’

  ‘I don’t know. I don’t know what she meant. She just asked if I’d reached womanhood and said to get somebody to tell me about growing up.’

  ‘She meant your monthly bleed! Every female has it. Some start sooner, some later. I started mine when I was thirteen and I could wish that I hadn’t.’ Mattie pulled a face. ‘Damned nuisance it is, I can tell you. Didn’t your ma tell you about it?’ she asked. ‘Mine did, when I was twelve, so that I’d be prepared.’

  Poppy shook her head and then listened carefully to Mattie as she explained. She was glad that Charlie was outside the door and not able to hear.

  ‘Tell you what, Poppy,’ Mattie said at last. ‘I’ll get Ma to fix you up with what you need, and then when it happens you can tell her. You don’t need to tell your da or Tommy. Just say you’ve got a headache when it starts. You probably will have,’ she added cheerfully, ‘but you’ll have to put up with that. It’s just one of those things in a woman’s life that we have to get on with.’

  ‘Will it make my face white and my eyes red like yours, Mattie?’ Poppy asked, thinking that if it did, she would wear some colour, on her cheeks as the stage people did.

  Mattie threw back her head and laughed. ‘No! This is flour! I work in ’flour mill, don’t I? And ’flour irritates my eyes and makes ’em sore. I try not to rub them but they really itch sometimes. I’d like to leave,’ she said, ‘and get work in a shop like your da’s, but ’money’s better in a mill and money is what we need, my ma and me.’

  They heard voices outside. ‘There’s Ma now,’ Mattie said. ‘Do you want to stop and talk to her or shall you get off home?’

  ‘I’ll go,’ Poppy said. ‘But will you tell her why I came?’ I’m glad that Mattie was here, she thought. I’d have been so embarrassed if Nan had had to tell me.

  Mattie nodded. ‘Mind how you go now. And . . .’ She hesitated as the door started to open and she dropped her voice. ‘Well, when you’re a bit older, we’ll talk again, about fellers, you know, and babbies and that.’

  ‘Oh,’ Poppy breathed. So there’s more. ‘Yes. Thank you, Mattie. Thank you very much.’

  She said hello to Nan and said that she’d just come on an errand and that Mattie would tell her about it, then Charlie walked with her to the top of Scale Lane. ‘You’ll be all right now, won’t you?’ he said. ‘I’d better get back or my father will start creating about me slacking.’

  ‘Thank you very much, Charlie. I hope you don’t get into trouble because of me.’ She paused for a second before saying, ‘Don’t tell Tommy where I’ve been, will you? Please. He’ll want to know why I went to see Nan and it’s nothing to do with him.’

  He gazed at her curiously. ‘But you didn’t speak to Nan, or hardly,’ he said.

  ‘No, but Mattie told me what I wanted to know.’

  ‘Mattie! Ah, well.’ His lips curled downwards. ‘Mattie knows about most things,’ he said. ‘She’s a fund of knowledge is Mattie. Knows more than her ma I shouldn’t wonder.’

  For a moment she thought he was scoffing and she was prepared to stand up for Mattie, but then he took her hand in his and gently squeezed it. ‘Get off home then, Poppy.’ He smiled down at her and she thought her heart would turn over. ‘I’ll see you again soon.’

  As she walked into the shop, her father raised his hand and pointed a finger. ‘Where’ve you been? You’re late again! You’ll have to stop this, Poppy. I’ll not have you running round ’streets without me knowing where you are.’

  Poppy glanced at Lena, who was standing with a smug expression on her face. ‘I had to go somewhere,’ she said. ‘It was important.’

  ‘You should have come to tell me first,’ he said sharply. ‘And what was important?’

  ‘I can’t tell you, Pa. I’ve been to see Nan.’

  She heard Lena give a snort. Her father heard it too and it seemed to make him angrier. ‘You’ve never been down ’High Street on your own?’

  ‘It’s quite safe,’ she said. ‘There were a lot of people about.’

  ‘Come with me, young woman,’ he said, and led her out of the back of the shop. ‘Now,’ he said when they reached their rooms. ‘I don’t want to discuss family affairs in front of Lena, but she must see how things are when you don’t arrive home from school and Tommy clears off every afternoon. I shall have to take you out of school if this happens again, and I shall stop your dancing and your visits to ’theatre.’

  We hardly ever go to the theatre now, she thought gloomily. Pa won’t take the time off and he won’t let me go on my own. She unwound her scarf and slipped her coat off.

  ‘Are you listening to me, Poppy?’

  ‘Yes.’ She pressed her lips together and stared up at him. I could tell him I have a headache, she thought, like Mattie said. And in fact I have. ‘I’m sorry, but I had to go to see Nan. I didn’t know who else to ask.’

  ‘Ask? Ask what? If there’s anything you need to know you ask me!’

  ‘About – about women’s things.’

  He opened his mouth and blew out a breath. ‘W—’ The words formed but he didn’t speak them, only looked at her. Then he sat down, his bluster gone. ‘Women’s things?’ he said in a whisper. ‘Has my little girl come to that and no mother to talk to?’

  He blinked rapidly and she thought he was going to cry, so she quickly reassured him. ‘Not yet, Pa,’ she said. ‘But I soon will. That’s why I had to ask.’ She suddenly felt grown up and yet rather shy, and she understood now why Mattie said she shouldn’t tell her father or her brother. ‘You don’t have to worry about it,’ she said soothingly. ‘It happens to all women!’

  He gave a lopsided smile. ‘I suppose it does.’ He drew her towards him and patted her hand. ‘Even more reason for me to worry about you,’ he said. ‘But there we are. You’ll cope, I expect.’

  She came home straight from school the next day and didn’t loiter. She took off her coat and fastened an apron round her waist, prepared to help in the shop. Lena was behind the counter serving a customer and a sullen-looking Tommy was preparing supper food for the café.

  ‘I want to speak to you, Poppy,’ her father called to her from their parlour. ‘I’ve something to discuss with you.’

  She had a sinking feeling. She was convinced he was going to say she must finish school. But please don’t make me give up my dancing or singing lesson
s, she prayed. Anything but that. She glanced towards Tommy but he didn’t even look at her, and she went out of the shop.

  ‘I’ve decided,’ her father began. ‘I’ve been thinking about things, and, well, I know it would be what your mother would have wanted.’ He paused and gazed into space. ‘She would have wanted you to stay on at school. She always said how important it was that girls should have ’same advantages as boys, and you and Tommy have been treated more or less ’same, except you’ve stayed on longer at school than he did.’

  ‘Tommy didn’t want to stay on. He didn’t like school,’ Poppy said.

  ‘No, he didn’t.’ Her father sighed. ‘I’m sure I don’t know what he does like, but anyway . . . You can stay on at school for another year, and you can continue your dancing and singing as well.’

  Poppy beamed. ‘Oh, thank you, Pa,’ she began, but her father had not finished.

  ‘So what I propose is: Tommy can do ’baking as he does now. He’s got a good hand at it – takes after his ma; Lena can look after ’coffee shop during the day until he’s finished with ’baking; and her son, Albert, can help me in ’shop. He’ll come in early to do deliveries, stack ’shelves, serve customers and so on. There’s plenty for him to do, and that means you just have to help for an hour or so of an evening after school.’

  ‘Albert!’ she muttered. ‘But we don’t know him, Pa! How do you know if – if he can do the work?’

  ‘His mother says he’s good at figures and he’s worked in a shop before. He used to be a manager somewhere out of town, but he came back to Hull to live with Lena when his father died.’

  Poppy didn’t know what to say. It’s our fault, she thought, Tommy’s and mine. If we’d been more willing we wouldn’t have had to have Lena here, or that odious Albert. ‘Just for a year then, Pa?’ But even as she asked, she thought, I shan’t want to be in the shop. She knew what she wanted. She wanted to perform. She wanted to sing and dance for her living. She wanted to see her name up on posters outside theatres and music halls. Poppy Mazzini, the celebrated shining star. She heaved a deep sigh. It would be impossible.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Albert was smarmily charming. To the customers who came to buy groceries, to the patrons of the coffee shop, to Joshua and to Poppy. But not to Tommy. Tommy had sized him up right from the beginning.

  ‘You’ll regret it, Pa,’ he said to his father, late one evening as they were locking up. Albert and Lena had gone home. ‘He’s a braggart. I bet he’s never worked in a shop before. I bet he’s never even worked before!’

  ‘So what do you suggest?’ his father bellowed. ‘You don’t want to be here. Poppy wants to stay on at school. I’ve nobody else to help me now that your ma’s gone. Just what am I supposed to do? Pack up ’shop? I can’t manage it single-handed!’

  Tommy was silent. His father was right, of course. They had to have help. ‘Nan,’ he said. ‘She’s helped out before. And Mattie. Mattie would be all right. She’s very bright.’ I might be happy to stay if Mattie was here, he thought.

  ‘We need Nan to keep ’place clean and Mattie’s a mill girl; she’ll get better pay in ’mill than I can afford to give her.’

  ‘So how come Lena and Albert can manage on what you pay them? And if he’s so clever he could get a job anywhere!’

  ‘I’m not going to discuss it,’ Joshua said stubbornly. ‘It’s done. If he’s not suitable, then he’ll go. But I’m going to give him ’chance and that’s ’end of ’matter.’

  Lena increasingly took on more than was necessary. She moved tables and rearranged the stock on the shelves, ‘so that I can reach more easily’, she simpered at Joshua. ‘You’re so much taller than me,’ she said playfully, and she left the dirty dishes and pans from the coffee shop for Poppy when she came home from school, saying that she hadn’t had time to do them. Albert always appeared to be busy, checking stock or going out on deliveries and taking a long time over both.

  Tommy became more and more sullen as he found himself always in the kitchen baking or preparing food, and when he came into the shop he barely spoke to either Lena or Albert, and not always to Poppy.

  ‘Josh!’ Lena called out one evening and Poppy and Tommy both looked up in astonishment. No-one, not even their mother, had ever called their father Josh; it was always Joshua. But he didn’t seem to notice, merely turned towards Lena enquiringly.

  ‘Someone called in for a penn’orth o’ laudanum whilst you were out this afternoon,’ Lena said. ‘And we couldn’t give it to her because we hadn’t the key to the cupboard.’

  ‘No.’ Joshua fingered his waistcoat pocket. ‘I keep that.’

  ‘She said she needed it, so she went somewhere else.’ Lena looked at him. ‘I said you wouldn’t be long, but she wouldn’t wait.’

  ‘Can’t be helped,’ he said abruptly.

  ‘I suppose not,’ she agreed. ‘But not all grocers can be trusted to give the proper mix. Not like you,’ she added.

  Joshua was meticulous in mixing the laudanum which he sold in penny or sixpenny bottles, or if it was for a child in an elixir with a sweet syrup. He also kept opium grains in the cupboard for more severe illnesses. The cupboard was always kept locked and he had the only key.

  Poppy worked in the shop during the school holidays and it was late one afternoon when Lena complained of a terrible headache. Joshua was out; he wanted to settle a grievance with one of his local suppliers, who he reckoned had sent a box of tea short in his order. He was going to send Albert, but it was a nice day and he fancied a walk, and he knew that if there was going to be any arguing, then he would get more satisfaction from the provender than his employee would.

  ‘I think I’ll have to go home.’ Lena put her hand to her forehead. ‘It’s usually quiet at this time on a Monday, and I don’t suppose Josh will be long. Do you think you can manage on your own, Albert?’

  Poppy glared at her. Although she could sympathize with Lena over the headache, as she now knew what that meant, she was annoyed that she should ignore her and ask Albert if he could manage rather than her. She was also apprehensive about being left alone with Albert, for Tommy too had slipped out as soon as his father had left, and Albert sometimes came up too close to her, which made her uncomfortable.

  ‘He’s not on his own, is he?’ she retorted. ‘I’m here.’

  ‘Oh, so you are, dear.’ Lena didn’t smile as she answered her. ‘But we all know where you’d rather be, don’t we? Tapping your toes or warbling your tonsils! Your father spoils you if you ask me!’

  ‘Well, no-one is asking you and it’s nothing to do with you what I do,’ Poppy replied angrily. Where Lena was concerned she’d got over her conforming rule of not answering back.

  ‘Not at the moment it hasn’t,’ Lena said smoothly, putting on an extravagant black and cream plumed hat. ‘But just watch your step, my dear! And I don’t mean dance step, which I would stop straight away if it were up to me. Wasting valuable money that could be better spent elsewhere!’ She swept out of the door calling to Albert that she would see him later.

  ‘Don’t take too much notice of our Lena.’ Albert came up to Poppy and put his arm round her shoulder. ‘She gets these moods sometimes.’

  Poppy didn’t speak, but shrugged off his arm and moved away from him and smoothed out the tablecloths and rearranged the flowers on the tables. What did Lena mean, not at the moment? She wished someone would come in, but Lena was right, this was a quiet period. Although Monday mornings were busy with people buying groceries, in the afternoons they seemed to stay at home.

  ‘Of course,’ Albert came towards her again, trapping her behind one of the tables close to the window, ‘if she and your da—’

  ‘What?’ Poppy stared at him, her lips apart. ‘If she and my father what?’

  ‘Well, you know! Get together.’ He gazed at her from his little piggy eyes and grinned. ‘They, erm, well, they seem to hit it off, don’t they, and don’t you think it’s odd that they’re both out at the same time
? Lena hasn’t really got a headache.’ He sniggered. ‘I reckon they’ve arranged to meet.’

  Poppy was horrified. It wasn’t true! Couldn’t be true! Her father would never – it was only eighteen months since her mother had died; but she remembered her mother had said that life must go on. She had said that to Poppy’s father. But surely he would never look at someone like Lena? Lena was harsh and brash and mean, a complete opposite to her mother.

  ‘You’re talking nonsense,’ she said with a catch in her voice. ‘My father would never—’

  Albert spoke softly. ‘He’s a man. Of course he would,’ he said. ‘A man can’t live without a woman around him, to look after him, keep him warm in bed at night.’ He came up close again. ‘And then you and me, Poppy – we’d see more of each other.’ He reached out and drew her towards him. ‘Course you’re only a little lass, but you’ll soon grow up, and we’d all be living here together, all cosy and nice.’

  She lashed out at him, catching him on his cheek with her nails. ‘Get your hands off me,’ she said. ‘I’ll tell my father!’

  ‘I’ll tell him you misunderstood me,’ he said, but nevertheless drew away from her and put his hand to his cheek. ‘I’ll say I was only being friendly towards you and you took it the wrong way.’ He stared at her. ‘I can make it worse for you, Poppy,’ he said menacingly, ‘and for your brother.’ He leered at her. ‘I know where he sneaks off to. He’s always hanging round the ships. He goes on errands, but he comes home the long way round past the docks, to talk to the seamen.’

  Poppy knew that Tommy did that, but she didn’t think her father did. If Albert should tell him, he would be very angry.

  ‘It’s nothing to do with you. You only work for my father, and please get out of my way,’ she said, pushing past him. ‘I don’t want to talk to you.’

  But she was worried and lay sleepless at night, thinking of what life would be like if her father did marry Lena, who seemed to be insinuating herself into his life. She was bothered too about Tommy who was always morose and bad-tempered towards Albert, who in turn was affable and genial towards him, especially when their father was there, so that Tommy always seemed to be the instigator of any bad feeling.