by Joan Jonker
‘Don’t you go gettin’ a cold, Grandma. Take yer own advice and keep yerself warm.’
Sarah kissed her cheek. ‘I’ll do that, sweetheart. You see to things here while I nip next door.’
When Sadie had the fire crackling merrily, she swilled herself down at the kitchen sink before getting dressed. Still there was no sign of Sarah and the girl was beginning to worry. Her grandma was too old to be rushing out in the cold this time of the morning. She was debating whether to go next door or put the toast on for breakfast, when she heard the key in the lock.
‘About time, Grandma, I was beginning to get worried.’
‘I’m that anxious about Maggie, love, I don’t like the looks of her at all. That bedroom of hers is in a terrible state – the walls are wringing wet with damp.’ Sarah shivered and moved to stand by the fire. ‘I think she should be brought downstairs and a big fire lit, but she’d never make it on her own and I’m not strong enough to be of any help.’
‘Can’t she have a fire in the bedroom? That would save a lot of trouble.’
Sarah sighed. ‘She’s never had a fire in the grate up there since she moved into the house fifty years ago. Her son-in-law has nailed a piece of wood across it to stop the draught coming down the chimney.’
‘I’ll light a fire in her living room for her, then I’ll help bring her downstairs. Mary Ann will understand if I’m late.’
Sarah shook her head. ‘No, sweetheart, it’s best if you go to work. But what yer can do to help is run next door and ask Mrs Townley to come here. She knows where Maggie’s daughters live and I think they should be sent for in case a doctor’s needed. So go and give her a knock, there’s a good girl, while I put yer toast on.’
It was Peter who opened the door and his face broke into a smile. ‘I’m sorry, Sadie, but I can’t come out to play right now, I’ve got to go to work.’
‘Get yer mam for us, Peter – quick, it’s urgent.’
‘What’s up?’
‘Old Mrs Benson’s ill.’
Peter was down the hall like a flash to return with his mother. ‘What is it, Sadie?’
‘Me grandma said could yer go an’ see her, Mrs Townley? The old lady next door is ill, yer see, and me grandma’s worried.’
Betty Townley patted the dinky curlers in her hair. She’d put up with the agony of sleeping in them all night and now wished she hadn’t bothered. She and Peter were very alike in colouring, features and humour. ‘I’m not lookin’ me best this time of the morning, girl. I do wish people wouldn’t be so inconsiderate as to get sick before I’ve had time to take me curlers out and doll meself up.’
‘I’ve offered to stay off and help, but me grandma won’t hear of it. It’s her I’m worried about. She’s too old now to be seeing to someone sick.’
‘I’ll just get me coat, girl, then I’ll be with yer. And don’t worry about Sarah – I’ll make sure she doesn’t overdo it.’
‘Thanks, Mrs Townley,’ Sadie said as she hurried away, too upset to even say ta-ra to Peter. Her tea was poured out when she got home and a plate of toast was waiting. She’d just taken her first bite of the golden crispy bread when Peter’s mother arrived and began to question Sarah.
‘Right,’ Betty said when she’d heard the story. ‘I’ll get in there and light a fire. As soon as the room’s warm, I’ll help her downstairs.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ Sarah said, reaching for her shawl, ‘and give yer a hand.’
‘Will you heckerslike! It doesn’t take two to make a blinkin’ fire! You get some hot tea and toast down yer, then get your feller out of bed. By that time I should have Maggie downstairs, please God, and you can sit with her while I fetch her daughter. Doreen only lives off Westminster Road, I’ll be there and back in no time.’
Sadie threw her a look of gratitude. She felt better already, seeing the way Peter’s mam had taken charge. ‘Thanks, Mrs Townley.’
‘Yer welcome, girl. And don’t you worry about Sarah here, I’ll see she doesn’t go doin’ cartwheels down the street showin’ her fleecy-lined bloomers off to all the men.’
‘You can go home if yer want, girl.’ Mary Ann was wearing a man’s heavy coat which nearly reached the ground and her black shawl was wrapped tightly around her head and shoulders. She said she was keeping her hair covered ’cos it was a different red to her nose and the two colours clashed. ‘It’s slack here for a Friday, so I’d manage on me own.’
‘Me grandma would kill me if I went home,’ Sadie told her. ‘When I was coming out she said I got paid to do a day’s work an’ I should earn me money.’
‘I don’t think yer’ve any need to worry about Sarah. She knows her limits and won’t try to do anything too strenuous.’ The stall-holder gave her a gentle nudge. ‘Ay, out, here comes Maggie and Florrie. Even if they don’t have any money to spend we’ll get a laugh. And my old mam, God rest her soul, used to say that a good belly laugh does yer more good than a full pan of scouse.’
Florrie, having heard the last part, said, ‘I remember yer ma, Mary Ann, she was the salt of the earth. Always bright and cheerful, she was, and a kind word for everyone.’ When her false teeth had settled back into place, she jerked her head at her friend. ‘I’m not mentioning any names, mind, but she wasn’t like some of the miserable sods that are around these days.’
Maggie’s folded arms hitched up her mountainous bosom. ‘Ay, Florrie, I hope that wasn’t intended for me? I agree I might be a miserable sod for six days of the week, but on pay day yer won’t find a happier or more sociable person if yer travelled the length and breadth of Liverpool.’
‘Yer’ve done it now, Florrie,’ Mary Ann laughed. ‘She’s cut to the quick, is Maggie.’
Florrie shrugged her shoulders. ‘Yer know what they say, Mary Ann, if the cap fits then wear it.’
Maggie’s bosom was now nearly up to her chin as she eyed the felt hat Florrie was wearing. When it was new, donkey’s years ago, it had been a lovely navy blue. Now it was several shades of blue with a hint of green. ‘If yer don’t apologise, Mrs Florrie bloody-Know-it-all, I’ll ram that bloody hat down yer mouth.’
‘Ah, don’t do that, Maggie.’ Sadie held up her hands in mock horror. ‘It’s the only one the poor woman’s got!’
‘Listen to me, you two,’ Mary Ann said, hands on hips, ‘if yer going to have a fight then I’m goin’ to be referee. And yer’ll fight by the rules, all fair and square. If you dare lay a finger on her, Maggie, before she’s had time to take those bleedin’ false teeth out, that’ll be counted as hittin’ below the belt and a point against yer.’ Oh, how the stall-holder was enjoying this. It had quite livened up an otherwise miserable day. ‘And if yer play yer cards right, yer could both be winners ’cos I’ve got a proposition to put to yer. If yer put yer heart and soul into it, and have a good go at each other, yer could draw a big crowd to me stall. So for every article we sell while you two are bashing each other, I’ll give yer a farthing each. Now I can’t be fairer than that, can I?’
‘Well, the bloody cheek of you! Did yer hear that, Florrie?’
‘I most certainly did, Maggie. I never thought I’d live to see the day when Mary Ann would encourage two gentle, well-brought up ladies like ourselves to have a scrap just so she can make a few coppers. D’yer know what, Maggie, if her dear mother was alive she’d turn in her grave.’
The four of them doubled up with laughter and the happy sound had Sadie thinking it was a sign that spring was in the air.
Sadie ran all the way home and was gasping for breath when she burst into the room. ‘How is Mrs Benson, Grandma?’
‘She’s bedded down on the couch, sweetheart, with a fire up the chimney and a hot water bottle on her tummy. Betty Townley was a godsend, I can tell yer. I’d never have managed on me own, I wouldn’t have known where to turn. Betty went for the old lady’s daughter, and as soon as Doreen saw the state of her mother she ran around for the doctor. He played merry hell over the house being so cold and damp, said he w
as surprised Maggie hadn’t died of pneumonia before now. Anyway, he said he’ll call again in the morning and if she’s no better she’ll have to go into hospital. He would have sent her today but she flatly refused. She said if she’s goin’ to die she’d rather die in her own home.’
Sadie had taken her coat off and draped it over her arm. ‘She’s not going to die, is she, Grandma?’
‘No, I don’t think so, sweetheart.’ Sarah wasn’t going to voice her misgivings and upset the girl. ‘Hang yer coat up while I fetch yer dinner in.’
Sadie gave Joe a kiss before going out to the hallstand. ‘She’s not in the house on her own, is she?’
‘No, she’s not on her own, queen, so don’t fret yerself,’ Joe said. ‘Her daughter’s staying the night with her. Sarah’s told her to knock if she needs us.’
When Sarah came through from the kitchen, Sadie closed her eyes. ‘Don’t tell me, let me guess.’ She sniffed up. ‘Steak and kidney pie.’
‘Right first time, sweetheart. With mashed potatoes and carrot and turnip.’
‘I’ll make short work of that, I’m famished.’ Sadie pulled her chair nearer the table and picked up her knife and fork. ‘I bet Mrs Benson doesn’t make herself a proper dinner every day like you do, Grandma.’
Sarah lowered herself onto the end of the couch. ‘That’s her whole trouble. She’s got her priorities wrong, but will she listen to yer? Will she heck! Instead of buying nourishing food and coal, she saves her pennies to give to her grandchildren when they come. She’s soft-hearted, is Maggie, and she gets a lot of pleasure out of giving them money for sweets. I can understand that, but not when she’s killing herself in the process.’
Joe nodded his head in agreement. ‘Yer told her daughter that, didn’t yer, love?’
‘I did, and she went mad. She said she’ll put a stop to it and make sure her mother spends what little she gets on herself. In fact, the first thing Doreen did was to run around to the coalyard and asked them to drop two bags of coal off. There’s a fire roaring up the chimney right now, and that’s a sight I’ve never seen before in that house.’
‘I’ll give a knock when I’ve had me tea, shall I, and see if they want any messages from the corner shop?’
‘That would be neighbourly, sweetheart, Doreen would appreciate that. And Betty said she’d send their Peter to fill a couple of buckets of coal for them. They’ll have to keep the fire banked up day and night while Maggie’s so ill, and it’ll save Doreen havin’ to go down the yard in the middle of the night.’
Sadie grinned. ‘D’yer know what the soft nit said to me when I knocked this morning? Seven o’clock it was, I was half-asleep and he was as bright as a button. “I’m sorry, Sadie, but I can’t come out to play now ’cos I’ve got to go to work”.’
‘He’s a hero, that lad,’ Joe chuckled. ‘Whoever gets him will be getting a good one.’
There was a loud rat-tat on the window and all three gave a start. ‘Speak of the devil and he’s bound to appear.’ Sarah was smiling as she eased herself up. ‘This’ll be him now – he’s the only one who ever knocks on the window.’
Peter breezed in with his usual cheerful grin. He looked at the plate in front of Sadie and asked, ‘Oh, are yer havin’ yer dinner?’
‘You need glasses, you do.’ Sadie had learned that if you didn’t look in his eyes when you were talking to him, it made it easier not to smile. ‘Having me dinner, indeed! Can’t yer see I’m knitting a pair of socks?’
Peter snapped his fingers. ‘Silly me, of course yer are.’ He looked across at Joe and winked. ‘I hope they fit yer, Mr O’Hanlon. They look a bit on the small side to me, and I can see she’s dropped quite a few stitches.’
Sadie chewed the last of the pie and laid down her knife and fork. ‘Yer’ve always got an answer, Peter Townley, but one of these days I’ll be the winner.’
‘What d’yer mean, one of these days? You are always the winner!’ He held his open hands out and appealed to Sarah and Joe. ‘When you hear my tale of woe yer hearts will bleed for me, so have yer hankies at the ready. I’ve had three dates with Sadie since Christmas and I need another two before I get to the big prize. But will she go out with me? Will she heck.’
Sarah knew she was walking into his trap but she fell for it. ‘What’s the big prize?’
Peter plonked his bottom on the arm of the couch, his eyes deliberately avoiding the warning look on Sadie’s face. ‘It’s a bit complicated, Auntie Sarah, and I’ve never played the game before so I don’t really know the rules. But it goes something like this. On yer first date yer can kiss her cheek – well, I’ve had that one. On the second date yer get to kiss an area somewhere in the vicinity of her ear, and I’ve had that too. I’ve also kissed her nose, which she kindly allowed on our third date. So by my reckoning her chin comes next and after that the big prize.’
Sadie’s face was crimson. ‘I’ll kill you, Peter Townley.’
Peter once again appealed to the old couple. ‘See what I’m up against? All I’m after is a little kiss and she’s talkin’ about murder! Now I ask yer, what chance have I got?’
‘Yer’ve got no chance at all now,’ Sadie told him, ‘yer’ve just blown it.’
‘How about a little compromise?’ Sarah suggested, promising herself a good laugh after they’d both gone out. ‘It’s yer birthday in two weeks, isn’t it, Peter?’
‘Yeah, sweet seventeen and never been kissed.’ Then he wagged his head from side to side, a wide grin on his face. ‘That’s a bit of an exaggeration ’cos I’ve been kissed loads of times, but this is a special kiss I’m after, a collector’s item.’
‘Are you buyin’ him a present for his birthday, Sadie?’ Sarah asked.
‘Huh! I’m not buying him anything for his birthday, and he needn’t think I am. I’ve got better things to spend me money on.’
‘I can think of a solution that will make yer both happy.’ Sarah could hear the soft chuckle of her husband that always gladdened her heart. ‘If yer make a date with Peter as his birthday present, that won’t cost yer a penny. And I don’t think yer so miserable yer wouldn’t let him kiss yer chin, are yer? And as for Peter, well, he’d be over the moon ’cos it would be one down and only one more to go.’
Sadie couldn’t hide her smile any longer. ‘Grandma, yer a crafty old lady and you and Grandad are really enjoying yerselves at my expense. But I love every bone in yer bodies and every hair on yer heads.’
‘That goes for me, too.’ Peter stood up and stretched himself to his full height. ‘I think your suggestion has met with the approval of Sadie and meself so that’s me birthday sorted out. And now, Miss Sadie Wilson, are yer comin’ next door with me to help me stock them up with coal? I’ll hold the torch while you shovel it into the buckets.’
‘Some hope you’ve got, soft lad.’ Sadie pushed her chair back and picked up her empty plate. ‘Don’t you be givin’ me orders, I’m no skivvy.’
‘Leave the plate, sweetheart, I’ll see to it. You poppy off with Peter and try not to come to blows in front of Maggie. Remember, she’s a sick woman.’
Lily Wilson’s eyes kept going to the clock as she paced the floor. It was two o’clock on a Saturday afternoon in May and her husband hadn’t come home yet with his wages. She hadn’t a penny to her name and not a piece of bread in the house. If she didn’t get down to the corner shop soon and pay for what she’d had through the week, they wouldn’t let her have any more tick and then she would be in queer street. ‘Go and see if there’s any sign of yer dad.’
‘He’ll be in the pub,’ Jimmy said, ‘and they won’t let me go in there.’
‘Ask someone to have a look for yer. Go on, do as yer told and don’t be givin’ me any of yer bleedin’ lip or I’ll belt yer one.’
As Jimmy stepped into the street he caught sight of his father coming out of the pub so he turned on his heels and went back into the house. ‘He’s on his way, I’ve just seen him comin’ out of the pub.’
‘I�
��ll pub him if he’s spent me wages.’ Lily picked her coat off the couch and was slipping her arms in the sleeves when her husband staggered in. ‘Where the bleedin’ hell have you been until this time? Yer knew I ’ad no money and would be waitin’ on yer.’
George hiccupped and a silly grin spread over his face. ‘I only went in for a pint. I’m entitled to a pint after workin’ hard.’
‘Hard? Yer don’t know what hard work is! Now hand yer money over so I can get to the bleedin’ shops before they close.’
Holding onto the door for support, George fumbled in his pocket and brought out a crumpled pound note. ‘Here yer are, I’ll give yer the rest later.’
Lily snatched the note. ‘When our Dot decides to come home, you can lay the law down with her. She’s to come straight home from work on a Saturday ’cos I need her money. You tell her that ’cos you’re the one who’s bleedin’ spoiled the jumped-up little bitch.’
George flopped into a chair and his head lolled back. ‘Take the baby out with yer. I don’t want her cryin’ and gettin’ under me feet.’
Lily tutted but didn’t argue. ‘Jimmy, put the baby in the push chair an’ I’ll take her with me. Les, you can come as well to help me carry me bits an’ pieces. And you make yerself useful, Ellen – get a pot of tea made for yer dad. There’s no milk in the ’ouse so he’ll have to make do without.’
‘What’s for me dinner?’ George whined as he saw her making for the door. ‘Me belly’s rumbling.’
Lily turned. ‘Yer can have the same as we’ve had – sweet bugger all!’
When Jimmy came back into the room, Ellen was handing her father a cup of tea. But George was making no move to take the cup from her, and the look on his face sent cold shivers down Jimmy’s spine. He could see Ellen was terrified because her hand was shaking and the tea was slopping over the rim of the cup. There was complete silence as George leered at his daughter. Then he said in a slurred voice, ‘I can’t drink tea without milk, so why don’t I send Jimmy to the dairy to get some, eh?’ With his mouth wide open he belched loudly, causing Ellen to close her eyes and turn her head. But she was too afraid to move away and remained like a statue. In this mood her father was capable of anything.