The twins might have reached twenty-eight years of age but they were still showing no sign of leaving home, or of even going out with anyone on any sort of regular basis. Whether there would ever be anyone stupid enough to have a long-term interest in either of the spiteful pair was anybody’s guess. Nell certainly couldn’t think of anyone. There had been one or two that she had found out about over the years – involving maybe a couple of evening trips to the pictures, or a few visits to the pub – with various young women and young men whom the twins had met down the market, but nothing had ever come to much, or had ever lasted beyond that. But why would it? No one in their right mind would be prepared to put up with their tempers or their selfishness. No one but Nell, and that was only because she had little choice in the matter, especially now she had her beloved children and wouldn’t jeopardise their security by upsetting the twins – this, however much she hated it, was Tommy and Dolly’s home. She would just have to put up with Lily and George, and Stephen. She thought, as she often did, about Joe and Martin Lovell, and how they did so many little things for Mary – carrying her bags up the stairs, taking the rubbish out to the chute, calling out to her over the balcony to make sure she was OK when she was down in the courtyard. And, as usual, she felt ashamed that she was jealous of a woman just because she had the good fortune to be living with two such kind men.
But at least Nell didn’t have to eat with the twins as she had been forced to when she had first moved into Turnbury Buildings. Since having the children, she had sat down at the table each afternoon to have her tea with Tommy and Dolly, who, so long as Lily and George weren’t hanging around in the kitchen, would chatter away happily, telling their mum about all the things they’d done while they’d been out playing or at school that day. Nell was so proud that she could help them with their numbers and letters – the home had given her those skills and a roof over her head, if not very much else.
Then Stephen would arrive home expecting his meal, and sit and eat in silence just as he was doing now. It was the time of day she had learned to fear in a way that she would never have thought possible before the children had come along, as anything they did or said was capable of incensing him.
She flinched as Stephen took a loud slurp of tea and then belched loudly without so much as an excuse me, the sounds jolting her back to the present and the dirty pan in her hands. She could only imagine what Matron Sully would have thought of him and his crude ways, but, more importantly, she wondered how long he would be hanging around the kitchen.
Nell no longer bothered herself with the mystery of what Stephen got up to all day while the twins were running the stalls, or that he spent most evenings at the Hope, she was just glad when he wasn’t there. In the meantime, she carried on keeping the flat looking nice, cooking, cleaning, and being his and the twins’ skivvy; and – except when he had more drink in him than usual – he seemed, thank goodness, to have lost interest in her. Maybe he’d found someone else who was willing to put up with him, and that was where he spent his days. Wherever he went, Nell just wished he’d spend even more time there, because what else had changed over the years was that she had become increasingly frightened of him losing his temper. She wasn’t scared for herself – she had learned to put up with that; being attacked by Stephen and abused by the twins had become her way of life, just as it had been in the home with the matron. What really terrified her was that Stephen might one day direct his anger at her children.
Nell snatched a quick look at him as he sprinkled more vinegar over the last of his bacon.
OK, for now he kept his beatings for her, but she had to be so careful with the little ones, making sure that they didn’t upset him and start him off on one of his rages. But if he did one day decide to turn on them, if he laid just one finger on either of them, then she’d . . .
What? What would she do? She could never think beyond the horror of them being hurt.
His power over her was a weapon that hung in the air between them, one that Stephen used as a silent, forbidding threat if Nell didn’t do exactly as he wanted, and she couldn’t help but wonder what he might actually be capable of, what he might do to the children. Yet in spite of her fears for Tommy and Dolly, she still felt herself completely blessed to have them. The children were the loves of her life, her very own family. When the nurse had first put Tommy into her arms in the lying-in hospital she had been overwhelmed – it had been the first time she had ever knowingly held someone who shared her own blood. If she could only find a way for them to have a home of their own, just the three of them, with a little bedroom each instead of the children having to sleep in the front room, she would have had perfect happiness. But she knew she shouldn’t be greedy. She was so lucky in other ways. She hadn’t realised until she had the children what it was to feel such total love for another human being.
‘Anything else?’ she asked Stephen as she took his plate, keeping her voice light even though the rind that Tommy would have loved to have eaten wrapped in a slice of bread was staring up at her, mocking her powerlessness.
‘No.’ He got up and took his jacket from the back of his chair.
If she hadn’t learnt that it would infuriate him, Nell could have burst into song: not only had the twins gone out, but now it looked as if he was going out too. That meant she could go down and watch the children enjoying themselves in the courtyard, the space bounded by the three five-floor tenements that served variously as a sports field and playground, a general meeting place, a parking area for babies sleeping in prams, and a sometime battlefield for warring neighbours. It was also a totally forbidden laundry-drying space, still used, of course, weather permitting. Sheets and pillowcases would flap from the illicit washing lines that the women from the Buildings would string between the blocks, and stretch high and taut with the tall wooden clothes props that would appear from their hiding places down in the basement. The pleasure of being able to dry your laundry in the open air was far too great for the women to worry themselves about following such mean-spirited rules.
Chapter 19
‘Hello, Nell, come and sit here with me. The sunshine’s still lovely and warm.’ Mary Lovell was perched on the bottom of the stone steps that led down from their block into the courtyard. She had her crossover apron pulled modestly over her knees and a saucepan in her lap into which she was slicing runner beans.
She shuffled sideways on her bottom to make room so that Nell could join her. ‘I’ve been watching your two little ones bouncing around, just like the jack rabbits you see when you go down hop picking they are. Just look at the pair of them. Wish I had half their energy. Getting the tea ready is enough of an effort for me after a day’s work.’
‘You and me, Mary.’ Nell shaded her eyes, checking where her children were, and that they were safe. ‘I’m glad I’ve had a chance to see you alone. I wanted to ask you how Sarah’s David is doing.’ She asked the question in a quiet, almost matter-of-fact way, not wanting to seem to be prying, but genuinely concerned. ‘I could hear from her voice this morning that she’s been worried about something, and I just thought it might be David. Nothing else ever seems to get her down.’
Mary looked unseeingly at the heap of unsliced beans. ‘You know me, Nell, I’m never one to gossip, but Sarah wouldn’t mind me telling you. Like she always says: there’s no shame in what’s wrong with David – he’s the way he is because he was such a brave young man, but I don’t think he’s too good at the minute, to be honest. He’s, a bit, you know, worse than usual. Sarah said it was that thunderstorm the other night; it really gave him a bad turn. It was all the banging and crashing and the lightning. And when he eventually managed to get off to sleep, she said he had these terrible nightmares. Calling out, sweating and thrashing around she said he was. Must have been horrible for the pair of them. Sarah said she didn’t know what to do – whether she should wake him up or leave him. I mean, you do hear these stories, don’t you? People having heart attacks and suchlike if you wake
them up suddenly. I suppose she’s only lucky she lives over the shop and not here in the Buildings or she’d have her next door to me banging on the wall, complaining about the noise. I can’t stir my tea and put the spoon down in my saucer without her leading off. She drives me potty at times.’
‘No one takes any notice of Ada, Mary. You mustn’t let her get you down.’
‘It’s not her really, Nell, I know she’s just a whining old bat, I just wish I could help Sarah and David. Things are so hard for that poor girl at times.’
‘And she’s such a kind person.’
‘I know, and as for David, I just wish you’d known him when he was a young man, known him the way he used to be. He was such a good bloke. When you think, he came over here with his parents when he was a little boy, but he was one of the first to volunteer to fight for this country. So brave, and not much more than a kid really. Now he’s stuck up there above the shop, fretting that he’s not doing his best for Sarah, and not able to do anything about it. They both deserve better than that, Nell.’
‘Things’ll turn out, Mary, you see if they don’t. Just like they will for you and Joe.’
‘I do hope so, love. But for the life of me I can’t think how. Things are really getting Joe down lately. I don’t know what him and me are gonna do when Martin goes. We’ve already got used to the extra he’s been bringing in since he got his promotion.’
Nell turned away, apparently suddenly fascinated by Dolly, who was clapping as Tommy cavorted about, springing handstands up against the wall, and turning cartwheels like a circus acrobat. ‘So, Martin’s met someone special, has he? Will he be leaving the Buildings very soon?’
‘No, not yet, but you know him, always got girls chasing after him. But I shouldn’t be surprised, should I? I know he’s my boy, but he’s a handsome young so-and-so.’
‘Wish I could say the same about Lily and George,’ said Nell lightly. ‘That pair are so sour-faced and angry-looking all the time. The way things are going, I’ll bet I’ll be stuck with them living up in fifty-five for ever.’
Mary, knowing where lines were drawn, said nothing more.
Nell watched as all the children in the courtyard unexpectedly ran to one of the walls and gathered in a huddle, as if some signal, undetectable to adults’ ears, had been sounded.
‘So Martin’s not got anyone special then, you say?’ Her tone was casual, as if she was barely interested.
‘No, like I say, not yet.’ Mary tossed the top and tail of another bean onto the pile that had been growing on the sheet of newspaper by her feet. She stopped suddenly, the cutter in one hand, bean in the other. ‘Not unless he’s mentioned something about anyone to you, Nell.’
‘Me? No.’ Nell was nearly choking on the words. ‘Why would he say anything to me?’
‘That’s a relief, because when he does decide it’s time for him to go I wouldn’t dream of stopping him, course I wouldn’t. But for now we are so grateful that he got his promotion and that new job at the brewery. First office worker in the family he is, on both sides. I can’t tell you how proud I am of him. But mainly, of course, it’s the extra money that he’s bringing in that’s so handy.’
Mary tossed the bean slicer into the saucepan. ‘Do you know, Nell, my Joe’s tried everywhere. Everywhere. But there’s nothing. I shouldn’t complain though, Sarah gives me what hours she can in the shop, which is more than most people have. But I could work there morning, noon and night and it still wouldn’t be enough to manage on, not without Martin’s money coming in. And as for what would happen if we had to go to the Assistance, I don’t even want to think what having to go through this new means test they’ve brought in would do to my Joe. It’s a wicked thing to do to a decent, willing man.’
Nell patted Mary’s hand, feeling guilty that although she and the children never derived much benefit from the good fortune that Stephen and the twins seemed to enjoy, they were hardly desperate.
‘Did you hear about all them people marching to Trafalgar Square last week to protest about it?’ Mary went on. ‘Fifteen thousand people, Joe said the paper reckoned there were. Fifteen thousand desperate people. It’s not right, is it, Nell?’
‘I’m sorry things are so hard for you and Joe, Mary.’
‘I don’t even know if I’m going to bother going down hopping this year. I’d like to try and get a few extra bob for Christmas so I can at least treat Joe and Martin, but from what Martin’s heard at the brewery they’re probably going to cut the rates again this year. It’ll be all strikes and rows and no work for days. Hardly worth it. Mind you, not that there’s going to be much to celebrate the way things are, Christmas or no Christmas.’
‘I’d love to take the kids down hopping,’ said Nell. ‘From what you’ve told me it sounds wonderful, all that green everywhere, and the animals, and the lovely fresh eggs and butter.’
‘We’ll all have to go together one year – you, me and the kids.’
It went unsaid between them that Stephen would never allow such a thing – what would he do without Nell there to run around after him and the twins?
‘Still, at least we’ve got the courtyard to sit in, eh Mary?’
Mary nodded. ‘Yeah, we’re a lot luckier than most, I suppose.’
‘And let’s hope this weather holds until Monday, cos we’ll have the washing dry in no time.’
‘Washing day coming round again. Unbelievable.’ Mary went back to slicing her beans. ‘It’s funny you know, I’ve no idea where the weeks or even the months go, but when I get home from doing my hours in the shop and go indoors the hours just drag by. Joe’s sitting there, reading his paper, and I’m thinking how soon I can start the tea. It’s like I’m trying to use up the minutes, waiting till bedtime, so I can pull the covers over myself, close my eyes and just forget about everything.’
‘It’ll all sort itself out, Mary. It always does.’
‘I hope so, Nell, I really do.’
‘Mum, Mum, look at me.’
Nell’s attention was caught by Tommy as he shouted to her from across the yard. He was holding a makeshift cricket bat. It had been fashioned out of a cut-down plank of wood, with rough hairy string bound round one shaved-off end to serve as the handle. He was standing sideways on from a wicket that an older boy had chalked on the wall of one of the far blocks.
Tommy flexed his skinny little eight-year-old shoulders. ‘I’m gonna really whack this one.’
A freckled, ginger-haired boy of about ten took a fast skipping run across the tarmac and hurled a grubby, grey, almost hairless tennis ball with all his force right at Tommy’s head.
‘Oi! Watch it!’ Tommy ducked, the ball hit the wall and went ricocheting across the yard. ‘You bloody rotten cheat, Danny Leary. Who do you think I am – Don Bradman?’
‘I heard that, Tommy Flanagan,’ shouted Nell. She was doing her best not to look amused, and was rather more successful than Mary, who was sniggering into the back of her hand.
‘Love him,’ Mary spluttered. ‘At least he’s managed to make me laugh.’
‘Mummy.’ It was Dolly. She was sprinting across the yard to the steps as fast as her little legs could carry her. ‘Did you hear what Tommy said? He said bloody and rotten, and we’re not allowed to say those words. They’re naughty. And only Auntie Sylvia can say them, because that’s different.’
Nell reached out and scooped her daughter up onto her lap. ‘He didn’t mean it,’ she said, wishing that everything could be as easy to deal with as children saying the odd bad word.
Mary couldn’t hold back the laughter, it was as if something had been released from inside her. ‘And how does a little one like you know about Don Bradman?’ she snorted.
‘Your Martin told me all about him,’ Tommy called back, his eye firmly on Danny Leary as he shaped up to bowl again. ‘They chucked the ball right at him. The rotten . . . I mean the flipping . . . No, I mean the horrible cheats.’
Mary now had a pleased grin on her face. ‘He’s
always had a nice way with kids has my Martin, God love him. He’ll make a right good dad one day.’
‘What are you lot up to then?’ Nell looked up, surprised to see Martin himself walking towards them, the bright sunlight turning him into a dark silhouette. She couldn’t make out his expression, but he was smiling broadly. ‘I don’t really care what it is, but I do know it’s the first time I’ve seen Mum laughing like that for ages. All right if I join you girls for a bit, enjoy the last of this lovely sunshine?’
He didn’t wait for an answer; he just plonked himself down on the step next to Nell, loosened his tie and took out the studs from his collar.
Nell’s cheeks flushed red as his thigh brushed hers. ‘I’d better be getting upstairs soon.’
‘You’re not leaving on my account are you, Nell?’
‘Course I’m not.’
‘Good.’ Martin nodded, clearly pleased. ‘Tell you what, Mum, why don’t I pop over the road and get a jug of shandy for you two girls from the four-ale bar, and then you can sit here and have a nice cold drink.’ He winked at Nell. ‘Reckon you deserve it, cheering up Mum like that.’
Nell jumped to her feet as if she’d been doused in scalding water. ‘I can’t, I’ve got, I’ve got . . . polishing to do. That’s what I’ve got. Polishing.’
She started off up the stone stairway. ‘Would you tell Tommy and Dolly to come up when it starts getting dark, for me?’ she called as she disappeared into the gloom.
Chapter 20
Stephen Flanagan was also about to disappear up a flight of stairs, but these were in the Hope and Anchor in Whitechapel.
‘What d’you think then, Steve-o? Ready to go up, are we?’ Bernie drained his glass. ‘We might as well go and get set up, cos the others’ll be here soon enough.’
Rough Justice Page 11