by Joan Jonker
Dot studied his face before answering. ‘I’m not used to being given things, John. I’ve had to struggle so hard over the years with no one to help me, and now I’ve got into the habit of living within me means, being independent.’
‘It was your independence that drew me to you in the first place, D.D. I admired you so much for it and for being so honest about it. But there has to be a happy medium in everything in life. With you it’s learning to give and take in equal measures.’
‘If I’d had the same education as you, I might have had a chance of winning this argument. But as it is, I don’t stand an earthly. If I refuse what ye’re asking, yer’ll get our Colin to have a go at me. And if that fails, ye’re not beyond bringing Katy into it.’ Dot put a finger to her mouth and cocked an ear. ‘There’s Katy going up to bed. It’s time you were on yer way, John Kershaw, so I can get me beauty sleep. I’ll give Mary a knock in the morning to see if she’d like to come for a walk with us. But I don’t want to see yer before two o’clock; give me a chance to get the dinner over.’
‘And what about next Saturday? Are we celebrating your birthday?’
‘I’ll think about it and let yer know tomorrow.’
John hid his smile as he stood up. That was good enough for him. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, then, Dear, Delightful Dorothy.’
He was walking towards the door when Dot put a hand on his arm. ‘Before yer go, John, I want to get something off me chest. It’s about me holding yer hand in the pictures. I don’t know what came over me, and I apologise.’
‘You didn’t hold my hand, Dot, I held yours. And I was delighted to do so.’
‘Well that’s another thing I’d like to get off me chest. You’re not expecting anything from this – er – this friendship, are yer?’
‘I expect only what you want to give.’ John walked towards the door. ‘Now come and throw me out before we get into a heated discussion.’
‘I don’t want yer to think I’m big-headed, hinting that yer’ve got yer eye on me. But I’ve got to say I haven’t for one minute believed this cock-and-bull story about you having a ladyfriend. It’s a load of eye-wash.’
John chuckled as he stepped into the street. ‘As I said, Dot, I only expect from our friendship what you want to give. And right now I expect you want me to kiss you so I will happily oblige.’
He’d disappeared before Dot had time to gather her brains together. ‘The cheeky, cheeky devil! Two kisses he pinched tonight, the hard-faced thing.’ She closed the door and turned towards the stairs. ‘The trouble is, I’m so out of practice I wouldn’t know whether they were the kisses of a friend, or not. I could make a fool of meself if I tackle him over it, so as there’s no harm been done, I’d best leave it be.’
The man Dot was having a conversation with herself about, was covering the ground quickly with his long strides. He was asking himself if he were a betting man, would he place a bet on himself to win the hand of the fair Dorothy. After thoughtful deliberation, he decided he would. He’d stick with it until he won her round because she was worth fighting for. The more he saw of her, and the children, the more he knew how much he wanted to be part of them. They’d brought into his life something he didn’t even know was missing. Fun, laughter, and a love so open and natural, they demonstrated it in every way. He’d been loved by his mother and had loved her in return, but it was a gentle, undemonstrative love. A love taken for granted rather than shown. There’d never been any impulsive show of affection, the hugging and kissing that he witnessed every time he went to the Bakers’ house. Their love for each other showed in their looks, their smiles, their actions and their sense of fun.
Yes, if I were a betting man I’d bet on myself. John was determined as he pushed the gate open and walked up the path to the house that he knew would be as spick and span as ever – his cleaner would have made sure of that. But it was a house that had never rung with the sound of laughter. He hoped one day to change that.
‘Listen, Dot, I won’t be able to stay out for long, because of feeding the baby. But I don’t want to say that in front of the others, I’d be too embarrassed. So if I say I’m feeling tired, you’ll know what I mean, won’t yer?’
‘Yeah, of course I will.’ Dot smiled into Mary’s anxious face. ‘Anyway, sunshine, it’s yer first time out, so yer will get tired quickly. It takes a while after yer’ve had a baby to get yer strength back, so don’t overdo it. When yer give me the eye, I’ll come home with yer and get our tea ready.’ She opened the yard door and wheeled the pram into the entry. ‘The others are waiting for us at the top. Our Katy can’t wait to wheel the pram, she’s been talking about it all morning.’
John smiled when he saw them coming up the entry. ‘The pram suits you, Dorothy.’
The words were hardly out of his mouth before Katy dodged past him and took over from her mother. ‘Can I have a peep at Trudy, Auntie Mary?’
‘And me,’ Billy said, having followed hot on Katy’s heels. ‘But I’ve got to warn yer that I seem to have a bad effect on babies; they usually bawl their heads off when they see me.’
‘This one won’t,’ Mary smiled, ‘she’s fast asleep.’
‘Oh look, she must have heard yer, she’s opened her eyes.’ Katy was beside herself with excitement. ‘Aren’t you a beautiful little girl for yer mammy, eh? Just like a little doll, yes, you are. And here’s yer Uncle Billy to say hello to yer.’
Colin, standing next to John, pulled a face when he heard all the cooing and baby talk. ‘Why do women always make stupid noises when they talk to a baby?’
‘Maternal instincts, son, all females have them. And even some men go dotty over a baby. I have to confess that when I was holding Trudy, I too made those noises, and she seemed to like them.’ John glanced down at the boy. ‘Have you seen her yet?’
Colin shook his head. ‘No, me mama wouldn’t let me go into the O’Connors’, she said they had enough to do. I wasn’t that fussy, anyway, ’cos what’s so special about a baby? They all look alike and all they do is whinge.’
‘I bet your mother thought you were special, son. And if we asked her, I’m sure she’d say you didn’t whinge all the time.’
The boy grinned. ‘She would, yer know. She’d tell yer our Katy was as good as gold, but I cried day and night. She said she seriously thought of putting me in the Cottage Homes.’
‘Who looked after you and Katy when your father died and your mother had to go out to work? You were both only babies, too young to be left.’
‘A woman in the next street, Chrissie Brady, looked after us. She minded us up until I started school and our Katy was old enough to look after me until me mam got in.’
Katy was wheeling the pram past them, with Billy in tow, when John put his hand out and brought them to a halt. ‘Hang on, Katy, your brother hasn’t been introduced yet. Come on, Colin, say hello to Trudy.’
Shrugging his shoulders as though to say he found the whole thing boring, the boy sidled up to the pram. He only intended to take one quick peek, just to please John. But at that precise moment, a spasm of wind brought a smile to the baby’s face and Colin was hooked. ‘Ay, she looked right at me and smiled!’ He turned to his mother and Mary. ‘Did yer see that, Mam? She likes me!’
‘And why wouldn’t she like a handsome lad like you?’ There was love and pride in Dot’s smile. ‘But don’t yer think she’s just a wee bit too young to be weighing yer up as a future boyfriend?’
Mary happened to glance at John and saw the look in his eyes as he watched mother and son sharing the joke. His feelings were there for the whole world to see. All except Dot, the one person who mattered. Either she doesn’t want to see, her neighbour thought, or she’s as blind as a bat.
With Colin walking ahead, chattering away to Billy and Katy, the three grown-ups were free to talk. Mary had been given the fifteen shillings John had got from her husband, and at first she was lost for words. To say ‘thank you’ seemed so inadequate for all the love, kindness and c
onsideration she’d been shown by her neighbours, but they were the only words she knew. ‘I’ve been spoilt rotten over the last two weeks by all of you. I’ve wanted for nothing, even a pram and baby clothes, thanks to you. It’s going to be a big come-down when I go home tomorrow, but like it or not, it is still my home.’
‘If things get rough, sunshine, just put the baby in her pram and walk out. The O’Connors would welcome yer back with open arms until something could be sorted out.’
‘I agree with Dot,’ John said. ‘She’s right, as usual. If your husband starts his shenanigans, walk out without a backward glance.’ He paused before asking, ‘Why do you have to sleep on the couch? Don’t you have a spare bedroom?’
Mary’s laugh was hollow. ‘Oh yeah, we’ve got another bedroom same as all the houses. But the only thing in that room is the wallpaper on the walls, and that is falling off with the damp, so I couldn’t put the baby in there even if we had furniture for it.’
‘I don’t envy yer, sunshine, because the place will be a damn sight worse than when yer left. The queer feller won’t have done a hand’s turn.’
‘That goes without saying, Dot, it’s what I’m expecting. But Maggie and Betty are coming in with me to help. They said they’ll do the cleaning for me. At least we’ll have the place to ourselves until Tom gets in from work. And I know ye’re all worried about him touching the baby, but ye’re not to worry, I won’t let him near her. I know I’ve been a coward and let him get away with murder in the past, but those days are gone. Tom Campbell is in for a rude awakening, believe me.’
‘Don’t let him keep you away from your friends, Mary, because you need them, and so does Trudy,’ John said. ‘Visit your friends, have a life of your own, and that way you might hold on to your sanity.’
‘Oh, I intend to, John, you can rely on that. The days are gone when I sit in every night, looking at the four walls of a house that’s as dark as a dungeon, while he’s propping a bar counter up. With the fine weather, I’ll be walking up to me mam’s to let the family see the baby.’ She turned to grin at Dot. ‘Or I’ll be calling in to one of me neighbours for afternoon tea.’
‘My café only opens on a Saturday and Sunday, sunshine, but yer’ll be very welcome. In fact, if yer don’t come, I’ll be hammering yer door down.’
John had a thought. ‘You could come out with us next Saturday. We’re going out for the day to celebrate Dot’s birthday.’
‘Oh, aye!’ Dot was wide-eyed. ‘Who said so?’
‘I just said so.’
‘Oh well, I suppose because you said so, that makes it all right, eh? There’s just one little thing yer haven’t thought of, clever clogs. The baby needs to be fed every couple of hours.’
‘Mary could bring the baby food and bottle with her – it would go in the pram.’
‘Oh, yer think Mary would fit in the pram, do yer?’ When Dot saw Mary blush and hang her head, she glared at John. ‘For a man of forty, who knows the meaning of every ruddy word in the dictionary, and who is manager of a factory, yer haven’t a bloody clue what real life is all about, have yer, John Kershaw?’
‘What have I said wrong, D.D.?’
‘Mary feeds the baby herself, yer great big daft nit!’
In the seven months Dot had known John, she had never seen him blush. But right now he was the colour of beetroot and looking as though he was wishing the ground would open up. And she felt a surge of pity for him. How was he expected to know? He’d never had any experience.
‘I don’t know, what am I going to do with yer?’ she tutted loudly. ‘Go and catch our Katy up and bring the pram back. Mary’s beginning to look tired.’
When he’d gone, she shook her head at Mary. ‘He’s never been married or had children, Mary, so yer’ll have to excuse him for embarrassing yer. Yer know he wouldn’t do it on purpose, he’s too much of a gentleman.’
‘He’s not the only one without experience, Dot.’
‘How d’yer mean, sunshine?’
‘Ye’re not very clever yerself. Everyone else can see the man is deeply in love with yer, but you seem to be blind to it.’
‘Go ’way! Ye’re imagining things, Mary – we’re just friends He’s lonely, that’s why he’s always round at our house. That’s all there is to it.’
‘I’ll tell that to all the other people who are imagining things, shall I? Like Maggie and Paddy, Betty and Alec, and your own Katy and Colin. Let’s see if they believe yer any more than I do.’
Chapter Twenty-Two
Mary held the baby while Betty and Maggie manoeuvred the pram up the front step. It was tricky, because the hall was so small they had to angle it so that it went straight from the front door into the living room. ‘Yer’ll never manage this on yer own, sweetheart, indeed yer won’t. Sure, it’s taken two of us all our time and we only just made it with about an inch to spare either side.’
Betty sniffed and pulled a face. ‘My God, it stinks to high heaven in here, girl! That lazy bugger hasn’t done a tap since the day yer left.’
Mary held the baby’s face close to her body, trying to shield her from the horrible smell of dirt, sweat and other unpleasant odours. ‘That’s nothing unusual, Betty, he never does a tap in the house. As he would say, that’s what a wife’s for. Or, another expression he’s fond of is: “why keep a dog and bark yerself?”.’
‘It’s stupid we’ve been, so it is.’ Maggie wagged her head, a look of disgust on her face. ‘Why didn’t we put the child in the pram and leave her outside in the fresh air?’
‘And why didn’t yer have that bright idea before we pulled a gut getting the bleedin’ pram in here?’ Betty wrinkled her nose; the smell was making her feel sick. ‘We’re not going through that palaver again, it can go in the yard. The fresh air out there is just the same as the air in the street.’
Mary turned the apron of the pram back and laid the sleeping baby inside. ‘I’ll wheel it out there, but we’ll have to keep our eye open for that cat of Mrs Steel’s. It’s always coming in our yard, and it sits on the window-ledge as though it’s got every right to. If it jumped on Trudy it could suffocate her.’
‘While ye’re doing that, me darlin’, I’ll slip home and get me mop and bucket and a bottle of Parr’s Aunt Sally. If we get this place mopped out it will get rid of some of the smell.’ When Maggie got outside she stood for a moment gulping in the fresh air. My God, fancy a newborn baby having to live in such squalor. And there was no chance of it improving when Mary was only given fifteen shillings a week to pay the rent and keep the house on. With the best will in the world, no one could buy cleaning materials out of that.
Betty fished in the pocket of her wrap-around pinny. ‘I’ve brought a handful of pennies for the gas, girl, so can I put some pans of water on to boil?’
‘Of course yer can, there’s no need to ask.’ Mary was standing looking out of the back window. ‘If that cat comes in I’ll throw a bucket of water over it.’
‘I’ll do it for yer, girl, I’ve got a good aim. If yer ask my Alec he’ll tell yer I never fail to hit the target.’ Betty waddled out to the kitchen but was back within seconds. ‘No wonder the bleedin’ place stinks – have yer seen all these dirty clothes on the floor? The filthy swine has left yer his dirty underpants that pong, his shirts and sweaty socks. With no disrespect to you, girl, I ain’t touching them. Me inside’s turning over as it is.’
Mary sighed. She was home again, all right. ‘I wouldn’t expect yer to touch them, Betty. I’ll see to them.’
‘Not bleedin’ likely, yer won’t! I’ll pull the dolly tub out and fill it with hot water when the pans boil. I’ve got some powder at home that we can throw in, it’s guaranteed to get the dirt out. It’ll probably take the colour out too, and there’s a good chance they might fall to pieces, but that’s not our worry. If your feller has anything to say, send the dirty bugger down to our house and I’ll sort him out.’
Mary wasn’t allowed to do anything. They put a chair in the yard fo
r her and she sat near the pram in the sunshine. She was filled with shame at first, that her neighbours were having to clean the filth left by her husband. But gradually her nerves calmed down as she listened to Betty telling Maggie one of her outrageous tales, and heard the resulting laughter. With the sun beating down on her face, her beloved baby at hand, she felt relaxed. If only things could stay like this, how happy life would be. If only her husband wouldn’t be walking through the door at six o’clock. If only she never had to set eyes on him again. If only—
‘Come on, me darlin’.’ Maggie’s voice brought Mary down to earth. ‘It’s twelve o’clock and time for a bite to eat. Betty’s tummy is rumbling so loud didn’t I think we were having a thunderstorm?’
Betty appeared at the kitchen door, her chubby face streaked with dirt, but beaming. ‘I’m packing this job in, me bleedin’ boss is a real slave-driver. No eleven o’clock sit-down with a cup of tea and a ginger snap to dunk in it. Yer can sod that for a lark, girl!’
‘Wheel the pram through to the entry, sweetheart, and I’ll run and open our backyard door for yer. We’ll have a bite to eat, and then it’s time for Trudy’s feed. While you’re busy doing that, me and Betty will come back and get stuck in again. Another hour or so should have the place looking a damn sight better than when we came. Isn’t that right now, Betty, me darlin’?’
‘I’ll tell yer what, Maggie, we’d be hard pushed to make it any worse than it was. It’s a wonder the queer feller didn’t poison himself with all the pots and pans in the house used and left to go green-mouldy.’ Betty gave a cheeky grin. ‘Pity he didn’t bleedin’ poison himself, that’s what I say. It would have been good riddance to bad rubbish.’
‘May the good Lord have mercy on yer, Betty Mason.’ Maggie kept her face straight but couldn’t hide the smile in her eyes. ‘It’s some explaining yer’ll have to do when yer get to the Pearly Gates.’
Betty’s bosom bounced. ‘Maggie, if I ever got to the Pearly Gates I don’t know who’d be the more surprised, me or Saint Peter.’