Walking My Baby Back Home

by Joan Jonker

  ‘I think yer good points outweigh yer bad ones, me darlin’. But just to be on the safe side, I’ll say an extra prayer for yer tonight.’ When Maggie turned to Mary, she was pleased to see a smile on her face. ‘You go out the back with Betty and I’ll open our entry door for yer.’

  Maggie had mopped the floor in the living room twice, and although there was a strong smell of Aunty Sally, she was satisfied it was clean. Then she washed the woodwork, cleaned the windows and dusted the furniture. Standing back she looked around with satisfaction. ‘I’ve finished in here, Betty. Will yer come and see what yer think?

  A head appeared around the door. ‘Bloody marvellous, girl, but I ain’t got time to give it me full attention ’cos I’m up to me neck in water.’

  Maggie went into the kitchen to find Betty plunging the dolly peg up and down on the clothes in the tub. The sweat was pouring off the big woman as she pressed with all her might. ‘They’ll not be as clean as I’d like, but they were too dirty to begin with.’ She stopped for a moment and ran the back of her hand across her forehead. ‘He’s a filthy swine, Maggie, and that’s putting it mild. Wouldn’t yer think he’d have rinsed his things through every night, save Mary coming back to a muck midden? Anyway, that’s me lot, I’ll start rinsing them in the sink and put them on the line. They should dry in no time in this weather.’

  Maggie pushed her aside. ‘I’ll do that, you take a breather. Mary hasn’t got a mangle, so I’ll wring as much water out of them as I can get, then take them home and run them through our mangle.’ She put the plug in the sink and turned the tap on. ‘I’ll hang them out on our line and iron them tomorrow for her. She’s not fit yet to be standing for long; she needs to take things easy for a few more weeks.’

  ‘And do yer really think, Maggie, that she’s going to be given the chance to take things easy? Not on yer bleedin’ life, she isn’t. Mr Tom Campbell will be delighted to have his skivvy back, he’ll have her run off her feet. In fact, she’s started to worry about him already.’ Betty’s face and neck were running with sweat and she wiped them over with the corner of her pinny. ‘Yer heard her asking me if I’d get a few things for her when I go to the shops? Well, she hasn’t asked for one thing for herself. Half a pound of sausages and two eggs – she said that’ll do him tonight and tomorrow night. She hasn’t got one item of food in this house yet all she’s asked for is two ounces of tea, a loaf, margarine and a tin of conny-onny. Oh, and some corned beef for the queer feller’s carry-out. What’s she going to live on – fresh air? She needs nourishment if she’s feeding the baby or they’ll both be ill.’

  Maggie turned the tap off and lifted a pair of trousers from the tub. She squeezed the excess water from them before plunging them in the sink. ‘Sure, didn’t me and Dot talk about this very thing last night? So, to make sure Mary gets enough of the right food down her, we’re going back to the arrangement we had before. Dot will see to her breakfast, and I’ll make her a hot dinner every day. And I’ll give her a hand with her housework for a few weeks.’

  ‘I’ll do my whack, as well,’ Betty said. ‘But I’ve got to say it goes against the grain when I see that bloody husband of hers passing our window every night to go to the pub. He’s got money for that, and to have his bets on the gee-gees, while his wife starves! It makes me blood boil, I feel like wringing his ruddy neck. Still, I’ll not see Mary suffer so I’ll muck in with yer, like I did before, and make sure she gets a hot dinner every day.’

  Mary heard the key turn in the lock and her heart lurched. ‘Now for it,’ she said under her breath. ‘Remember what yer’ve been telling yerself all afternoon. Start as yer mean to go on or yer life will be hell.’

  Tom Campbell knew she was home as soon as he opened the door and was greeted by the smell of disinfectant and sausages frying. He sauntered into the room with a sneer on his face. ‘So yer’ve decided to come back, have yer?’ His lip curled as he eyed the pram. ‘And yer’ve brought the brat with yer.’

  ‘This is my home, I don’t have to ask your permission when I come and go.’ Mary’s eyes locked with his and she forced herself to stare him out. ‘And it’s Trudy’s home, too.’

  ‘Trudy! What sort of a bleedin’ name is that?’

  ‘I think Trudy is a lovely name. It’s just a pity she has to have Campbell stuck after it, but that can’t be helped. I’ll explain to her when she’s old enough to understand, that her mother had lousy taste in men.’

  Tom’s eyes narrowed. He’d never seen his wife like this before; she’d changed. The bloody neighbours were the cause of it, filling her head with big ideas. Well, he’d soon bring her down to earth with a jolt, but not tonight, he had better things to do. ‘Where’s me bleedin’ dinner? I’m going out at seven.’

  ‘Well, thank heaven for small mercies,’ Mary drawled as she made for the kitchen. She was even surprising herself for standing up to him. How long he’d let her get away with it was another thing, but right now she felt good. She turned at the door, saying, ‘Don’t you go near that pram.’

  ‘I told yer I didn’t want the bleedin’ brat, and I still don’t. Just keep her well away from me, that’s all.’

  Mary had fried the sausages and egg in margarine and they didn’t look very appetising on the plate. Still, she had no dripping in so it was a case of like it or lump it. She was carrying the plate through but stopped dead at the sight that met her eyes. Her husband was standing in front of the fireplace, his fly buttons undone and his hand moving around inside his trousers. ‘What the hell d’yer think you’re doing? You dirty bugger!’

  ‘I’m itchy and I’m scratching meself, so what?’

  Mary dropped his plate on the table. ‘You disgust me with yer filthy habits.’ She couldn’t bear to be in the same room as him, so she picked the baby out of the pram. ‘I’m going next door for an hour or two. I’ll take the key so bang the door after yer.’

  It wouldn’t occur to Tom Campbell to wash his hands. He sat down at the table and picked up his knife and fork. He’d had this itch for weeks now, only it wasn’t just an ordinary itch, it was tender and sore. Like when you had a gum-boil, and you wanted to touch it with your tongue all the time. It was that Esmée, she was being too rough with him. Not that he didn’t enjoy it, she took him to heaven and back. But he’d tell her to take it easy tonight, just until this rash went away.

  John was waiting for Dot when she got home from work on the Saturday. She threw her bag and overall on the table and grinned. ‘Two whole weeks off! Oh, what a wonderful feeling it is.’

  ‘You’re not the only one, D.D., I’ve got two weeks off as well.’

  ‘I’m better off than any of yer, I’ve got six weeks,’ Colin said, looking clean and neat in his best shirt and trousers. ‘We can have a lie-in every morning, Mam. There’s only our Kate got to get up, and she sees to herself.’

  ‘I know. It’s the gear, isn’t it, sunshine?’ Dot picked her overall up from the table. ‘I’ll stick this in the tub ready for washing, then I’ll get meself ready.’

  ‘Just hang on a minute, D.D., I haven’t wished you a Happy Birthday yet.’ John had been holding his hand behind his back, hiding the card and parcel he now handed to her. ‘Have a lovely day.’

  ‘Ay, I’m here as well, yer know.’ Colin was brimming with excitement at having a present to give his mother. And of course, the prospect of going to Southport. ‘Here’s a card and a pressie for yer, Mam.’

  Dot took the small square parcel off her son but looked at John’s with suspicion. ‘I was under the impression yer were taking me to Southport for me birthday. I don’t want two presents off yer.’

  ‘We’re all going to Southport – you, me, Colin and Betty. I wanted to give you something just for yourself.’

  Dot could see the hope in his eyes and didn’t have the heart to disappoint him. ‘Oh, all right, but I’ll open me son’s first.’ As she was ripping the paper from the small square box, she added, ‘Yer don’t half spoil me, John Kershaw. I don’t kn
ow what I’m going to do when yer marry this mysterious ladyfriend of yours.’

  ‘Marrying her won’t stop me spoiling you, my Delightful Dorothy.’

  Dot was staring down at the small black box when she answered. ‘Ay, I’m not going to be the other woman. I’m not a marriage wrecker.’ Then she lifted the lid of the box and gasped. ‘You never bought this, Colin, yer’d never have had enough money.’ The link of pearls were coiled on a layer of cotton wool and she thought they were beautiful. But she was suspicious of who paid for them. ‘You didn’t pay for them, did yer?’

  ‘Ah, ay, Mam, I did!’ The boy was cut to the quick. ‘I saved all me pocket money last week, I didn’t spend a penny of it! And Mr Kershaw lent me sixpence until I get this week’s pocket money off yer. I went to Woolworth’s this morning for them, they cost elevenpence halfpenny.’

  Dot threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. ‘You are one little love, you are, I could eat yer. It’s the best present I’ve ever had in all me life.’

  Tears were glistening in her eyes when she looked over his shoulder at John. ‘He’s the best son in the whole world and I love the bones of him.’

  John was wishing he was in the boy’s shoes when he said, ‘Do I get the same treatment if you like my present?’

  ‘Not on yer blinkin’ life, yer don’t.’ Dot released her son and took the parcel John was holding out to her. It was about eighteen inches square and was soft to the touch. She grinned at him as she carefully unwrapped the paper. ‘At least it’s not a tiara.’

  She stared down at the folded garment she could tell was a dress. ‘You shouldn’t have done this, John. A little gift is one thing, this is another. I can’t accept it.’

  ‘Can’t, or won’t, Dorothy?’

  ‘Ay, ay, Mam, don’t be so mean! Our Katy went all the way into town on Wednesday afternoon to get that.’ Colin was beside himself. ‘She was dead excited about going on her own into one of the big shops to buy something, and she can’t wait to see if yer like it. And now ye’re goin to spoil it for her and for Mr Kershaw. That’s not half mean, that is.’

  Dot’s eyes rolled. ‘Our Katy went for it?’

  ‘Well, I’m not very knowledgeable about what women like, or what the fashions are. So I asked your daughter to suggest something and then asked her to choose it.’

  Dot turned her head away from two pairs of anxious eyes. ‘It’s not that I’m not grateful, John, or that I want to be contrary. But you spend a fortune on us and I can’t let yer carry on doing it. Last Saturday yer paid for all of us to go to the pictures, now ye’re taking four of us to Southport for the day and then to the pictures again tonight. It’s got to stop somewhere, ye’re not made of money.’

  ‘Neither am I stupid, Dorothy. What I couldn’t afford, I wouldn’t buy. Your daughter asked me to tell you to wear it today and call in the shop on our way out so she can see what you look like in it. Now I’ve given you the present, and the message, so I’ll leave you to make up your own mind.’ With that, John sat down and folded his arms.

  Dot laid the parcel on the table and lifted the dress from the paper. It was a straight, figure-hugging dress in pale green. It had a white belt, a low-cut round neck trimmed with white binding, and short cap sleeves also trimmed with white. It was a very smart dress, ideal for a lovely summer day. ‘Our Katy’s got good taste, it’s lovely.’ She glanced at her son and smiled. ‘The pearls will just set it off.’

  John jumped up from his chair. His face, like Colin’s, was beaming. ‘Now that’s sorted out we can give you your cards.’ He handed a large envelope over. ‘Happy Birthday, Dorothy, and may you enjoy many more.’

  ‘And here’s mine, Mam.’ Colin’s envelope had fingermarks all over it, but Dot was too full up to see them. ‘There’s four more for yer, and they’re from me grandma, Auntie Betty, Mary and the O’Connors.’

  ‘How d’er know that, sunshine?’

  ‘’Cos I opened them, of course.’

  ‘Well, yer can help me open them again, and then I’ll stand them on the sideboard.’

  When all the cards had been read and admired, Dot gave her son the job of arranging them on top of the sideboard. Then she looked at John. ‘Thank you, I love the dress. I’ll wear it today and we’ll call in and let Katy see it. Are yer quite satisfied now?’

  ‘No. I want a birthday kiss.’

  ‘It’s not your birthday!’

  ‘That’s true, it’s your birthday so it’s my place to give you a kiss.’

  Dot held her head sideways and pointed to her cheek. ‘Right there.’

  But John wasn’t having any of that. He tilted his head to match hers and kissed her lightly on the lips. All to the amusement of Colin, who looked as though he’d lost sixpence and found half-a-crown. As long as his mam took it in good humour and didn’t clock Mr Kershaw this would be the highlight of the boy’s day. When his mother stood still, looking bewildered, Colin silently urged his hero to pinch another kiss and make it last longer this time. But the spell was broken by Betty’s loud ran-tan on the knocker.

  Dot patted her hair even though no one had touched it. It was as if she believed Betty would know that John Kershaw had just kissed her. The cheeky devil. In front of her son, too!

  ‘Open the door for Auntie Betty, sunshine, while I get a swill in the sink. Then I’ll get changed, it won’t take me long.’

  When Dot came downstairs looking like a million dollars in her new dress, and the pearls adding attraction to her whole appearance, Betty whistled. ‘My God, girl, there’s no flies on you today. Anyone would think it was yer birthday, the state of yer.’

  ‘My lovely son bought me the pearls, aren’t they nice?’

  Colin’s foot was always ready to plunge into trouble. ‘And Mr Kershaw bought her the dress. That’s nice as well, isn’t it?’

  Betty’s eyes disappeared when she grinned. ‘It’s no good, I’m going to have to get meself a lodger. I’m not half missing out on the good things in life. Yer don’t happen to have a friend looking for digs, have yer, John? Someone like yerself, with a few bob in their pocket? It’s no good if they’re skint, I may as well stick to my feller.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Betty, but most of the men I know are married. However, I’ll put the feelers out for you, and who knows? There could be a millionaire somewhere out there searching for someone with the very qualities you possess.’

  ‘Another thing, he’s got to speak posh, like what you do. I don’t want no one who uses bad language – like bleedin’ this, and sod that. No, I only want the best, like what I’m used to. It’s no use bringing me no one as common as muck, ’cos I’ll chase them. Only the best is good enough for Betty Mason.’

  ‘I’ve got some very clever, well-to-do friends, John, as yer can see,’ Dot said, her eyes brimming with laughter and a feeling of well-being. ‘Now take Betty here. She went to college and passed all her exams to become a teacher. And when she got married, it was in a big church and she wore a white dress with a big long train and six bridesmaids.’

  Betty raised her brow scornfully as she corrected her friend. ‘No girl, yer telling a fib there. I had seven bridesmaids, not six. Oh, it was a big posh wedding, the talk of the neighbourhood for weeks, it was.’ The chair began to creak in protest and Dot waited for the laughter that wasn’t long in coming. ‘There was only one little drawback, and the neighbours were arguing for months about whether me dress was white or not. Yer see, I went to the church on the back of Billy McCardle’s coal-cart.’

  John and Colin were doubled up. ‘Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.’ John wiped the tears from his eyes. ‘I don’t know why we bother going to the pictures, not when we could be entertained in the comfort of our own home.’

  ‘Oh, I’m a good all-round entertainer, John, even if I do say so meself. The only thing I can’t do is dance. And for the life of me I can’t understand why, ’cos I used to be able to tap-dance when I was little. Me dad used to play the spoons and I used to dance the feet off me
self. I wonder why I can’t do that no more?’

  ‘Perhaps it’s because yer’ve grown a bit since then,’ Dot suggested, her imagination running riot as in her mind’s eye she pictured the big woman trying to tap-dance. ‘That could have something to do with it.’

  ‘Yeah, yer could be right, girl, ’cos I have put a bit of weight on. Not that much, mind yer, not so yer’d notice. Only about ten stone, give or take a pound or two either way.’ Betty screwed up her face, folded her arms and tried to cross her legs. But no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t get her right leg over her left. To the amusement of the onlookers, every time she managed, with a lot of exertion and determination, to get it almost over, it just slid off. In the end, with a grunt of disgust, she gave it up as a bad job, saying, ‘All right, if that’s what yer want, sod yer.’

  John had his eye on the clock. ‘Dot, we’re not going to make it to Southport. It’s nearly two o’clock now – by the time we got there, it would be time to come home.’

  ‘It’s me mate’s fault, keeping us talking. Perhaps we’d better skip Southport for today.’ Dot noticed the smile leave her son’s face and felt sorry for him. He’d really been looking forward to it, counting off the days. ‘We can go another day, sunshine, we’ve got two whole weeks off.’

  ‘We could go tomorrow and spend the whole day there,’ John said, hoping to ease the disappointment. He didn’t care where they went as long as he was with Dot, but he didn’t want to let the boy down. ‘We wouldn’t have to rush back, and Katy and Billy could come with us.’

  ‘I know this is going to break yer hearts,’ Betty said, ‘but I wouldn’t be able to come with yer tomorrow because me family like their Sunday dinner.’

  ‘Well, seeing as you and Dot are all dressed up, we’ll have to go somewhere. How about going into town and getting on one of the ferries?’

  Colin grinned. ‘Oh, yeah! But we will go to Southport tomorrow, won’t we?’

  ‘Scout’s honour,’ John promised, pushing himself up from the chair. ‘Let’s be on our way and call into the sweetshop so Katy can see how lovely her mother looks.’