by Joan Jonker
She ambled on her way, chuckling to herself. She felt happier now she’d heard the queer one get her comeuppance, and when she got home she’d go over every word she heard as she sat in her rocking chair supping her stout.
Ruby was in a foul temper the next morning. Her head was splitting, what with having too much to drink and then the row with Bob. There was malice in her eyes as she dropped the plate of toast in front of her daughter. ‘Get that down yer and hurry up or yer’ll be late for school.’
Lucy looked down at the burnt bread and knew this was part of her punishment. She picked up a slice and bit into it. Then, in a quiet voice, asked, ‘Can’t I have some butter on it, please, Mam?’
Ruby mimicked her daughter’s voice. ‘“Can’t I have some butter on it?”’ She closed the living-room door quietly. Bob didn’t get up until ten o’clock when he was on the afternoon shift, and for all she knew he could be lying awake listening. So she kept her voice low. ‘Yer’ll be getting dry toast every morning from now on, seeing as yer dad is docking me money so he can buy yer some fancy clothes.’
Lucy raised her face and stared directly into her mother’s eyes. What she saw there caused her to turn away in distress, thinking, she doesn’t even like me, never mind love me. ‘I never asked me dad to buy me anything, Mam, I wouldn’t do that.’ She picked up her plate and got to her feet. ‘I’ll make meself a round of bread and jam because I’ll be starving if I don’t have anything to eat.’
Ruby watched her daughter go into the kitchen before lighting a cigarette. Inhaling deeply, and with a sneer on her face, she leaned against the door-jamb. ‘Yer dad won’t always be here, just remember that.’
Instinct told Lucy she would be well advised to get out of the house as quick as possible and away from trouble. She could eat the bread on her way to school. So without a word, she passed her mother, took her coat from the hallstand and let herself out of the front door. She stood for a moment with the bread in her mouth while she slipped her arms into her sleeves, then began to walk up the street.
Aggie McBride was standing on her front step, her shawl around her shoulders. She’d been waiting for Lucy to make sure the child hadn’t come to any harm. She was a kindly soul, was Aggie, with steel-grey hair combed back off her face and plaited into a bun at the nape of her neck. She wore false teeth when she was going out, but this morning she’d decided to give her gums a rest.
‘Were yer late getting up, queen?’ Aggie nodded at the bread. ‘No time for a proper breakfast?’
‘Just a bit late, Mrs Aggie, but I don’t think I’ll be late for school.’
‘Yer didn’t get into trouble last night, did yer? I heard yer mam and dad rowing when I passed on me way back from the pub. I hope she didn’t try and lay the blame at your door?’
Lucy shook her head. No matter what her mother did, she would never talk about her to anyone. After all, she was still her mother. ‘I went straight to bed and me dad brought me a nice hot cup of tea up.’
‘That’s good, queen.’ Aggie put her hand in the large pocket of her wrap-around pinny and brought out a rosy red apple. ‘Here yer are, girl, I kept this specially for you.’
When Lucy’s face lit up it was as though the sun had come out. ‘Oh, thank you, Mrs Aggie, I’ll eat it at playtime.’ She rubbed the apple on the sleeve of her coat and held it up to the old lady. ‘Look how shiny it is – I can see me face in it.’
Aggie chuckled. ‘I bet the apple thinks there’s an angel looking at it. Now, run along, queen, or yer’ll be getting the cane.’
Lucy took to her heels, shouting over her shoulder, ‘Ta-ra, Mrs Aggie.’
Aggie was waving to her when she heard the sound she’d been waiting for. She turned her head to see her next-door-but-one neighbour stepping into the street. Irene Pollard had a part-time cleaning job in the corner pub and she left the house every morning dead on ten minutes to nine. The Pollards lived next door to the Mellors, and Aggie was eager to know if Irene had heard the rumpus.
‘Good morning, Aggie! What are yer waiting for – better days?’
‘Irene, I had me better days fifty years ago, and, by God, I made the most of them. All I’ve got left now is to stick me nose into other people’s business – which brings me to the reason for standing on me step this time of the morning, getting me bleedin’ death of cold.’ She gave a toothless smile. ‘Did yer hear the carry-on at the Mellors’ last night?’
‘Couldn’t help it, Aggie. They were shouting so loud we could hear every word. Yer know how thin the walls are, yer can’t sneeze without the whole street knowing.’ Irene Pollard was a bonny woman, with plenty of flesh on her bones. She had auburn hair, brown eyes, a pretty round face and a good sense of humour, and her husband, George, was a riot when he’d had a few drinks on a Saturday. They had two sons, Jack fourteen, and Greg, twelve, and were well liked in the street. If anyone needed a helping hand, it was the Pollards’ door they knocked at. ‘I don’t know what started the row, but Bob certainly had a go at Ruby. She must have gone too far this time because Bob puts up with a lot from her. As George said, she’s had it coming for years now, the brazen hussy.’
‘I’ll tell yer what started it.’ Aggie quickly recounted what had happened. ‘The poor kid was terrified, all alone that time of night in a house in pitch darkness.’
Irene tutted as she shook her head. ‘She doesn’t deserve that child. I always wanted a girl but it wasn’t to be. How is it that someone like Ruby Mellor has a beautiful girl that she treats like dirt, and me, who was longing for a daughter, can’t have one? I love me two boys, yer know that, and having a girl wouldn’t have made any difference to the love I have for them. It’s just that a girl is a mate to her mother when she grows up, someone to share things with. If Lucy was mine, she’d get as much love off me, and George and the boys, as she gets hidings off her mother. Many’s the time the boys have been upset when they’ve heard her being belted. When they were younger they used to say she was like a fairy, with her being so pretty and dainty.’
Aggie sighed. ‘Well, let’s hope that Bob sticks to his guns and makes that wife of his toe the line. He must rue the day he ever set eyes on her.’
‘Only time will tell, Aggie, only time will tell. But I think in future, when Bob’s at work, and I hear any shenanigans from her, I’ll poke me nose in.’ Irene smiled. ‘I’m bigger than her and one swipe from me would knock her into the middle of next week.’
‘Give me a knock first, girl, ’cos I wouldn’t want to miss that for the world.’
‘I’ll sell tickets, shall I, Aggie?’ Irene started to walk away. ‘If I don’t get a move on I’ll be getting me cards. I’ll see yer tonight, sunshine, ta-ra for now.’
By dinnertime, the story had gone the rounds of the street. And when Ruby left the house to go to the shops, she could sense the hostility of the women who were standing at their doors talking to their neighbours. With their eyes boring into her, she tossed her head and sauntered past them, her jaunty step saying she didn’t give a damn what they thought. And she didn’t either. It was a pity the poor buggers had nothing better to do than stand gossiping. The only time they seemed to enjoy themselves was when two women got into an argument over their kids. Then the whole street would be out watching and shouting encouragement as the two women belted hell out of each other. And, of course, there was always a stir when a football was kicked through a window and none of the boys would own up to being the culprit.
There was a sarcastic smile on Ruby’s face as she neared the shops. If the truth were known, there wasn’t a woman in the street who wouldn’t change places with her, given the chance. They just didn’t have the guts. Then she had a thought that took the smile from her face. If she was going to be five shillings down in her housekeeping it would mean she’d be skint all the time. She wouldn’t be able to keep up with her friends, splashing out on drinks and handing cigarettes around. She’d be like a poor relation and that idea didn’t appeal to her one little bit. T
he truth was, if she had no money, she’d soon lose her friends.
Ruby hit on an idea as she turned into the butcher’s shop. She’d make the money up by cutting down on food, that’s what she’d do. If she was clever, no one would be any the wiser. And she’d start right now. ‘Just half-a-pound of steak, Stan, and a quarter of kidney.’ There, she gloated as the butcher cut the steak into small pieces, a quarter of steak less has saved me a few coppers. If I do that in every shop, every day, I’ll soon make up the five bob.
The meat was simmering on the stove when Lucy came running in from school. ‘I’m going out to play hopscotch with Rhoda, Mam. I’ll only be in the street.’
‘Just you hang on a minute, buggerlugs.’ Ruby threw her cigarette end in the hearth. ‘Yer can get in that kitchen and peel the spuds, never mind playing bleedin’ hopscotch.’
Lucy’s face fell. ‘But it’ll be dark soon and we won’t be able to play.’ There was pleading in her large green eyes. ‘Go on, Mam, please?’
‘Yer haven’t got cloth ears, so out in that kitchen before I belt yer one.’
Lucy was close to tears. ‘Just for half an hour, Mam?’ When she saw Ruby jump from her chair and make for her, the girl pressed back against the wall and lifted her arm to protect her face. ‘Don’t hit me, Mam, please.’
Ruby grabbed a handful of the dark hair and pulled. ‘Yer get those spuds peeled or I’ll break yer bleedin’ neck. Now—’ Her words were cut short by a loud banging on the open front door. Her face livid, she bawled, ‘What the hell d’yer want?’
‘Ruby, it’s Irene Pollard. Is everything all right? Young Rhoda here’s waiting for Lucy to come out to play, and she’s been knocking hell out of yer door for the last five minutes but can’t get anyone to answer. I just wondered if anything was wrong?’
Ruby bit so hard on the inside of her mouth she could taste blood. Any other neighbour she would have told to sod off, but Irene Pollard was a woman to be reckoned with. And her husband was very pally with Bob, too. ‘She’s coming now.’ Ruby took her daughter’s hand and squeezed until it hurt. She pulled her out to the front door. ‘I was telling her to wash her face before she went out, it’s filthy.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,’ Irene said calmly. ‘She’d be dirty again in no time, so what’s the point? My two lads are playing ollies in the gutter, and they’re both as black as the hobs of hell. To say nothing about the state of their kecks. But they’ll be well-scrubbed before they go to bed.’
‘Will yer let go of me hand, please, Mam?’ Lucy asked. ‘Rhoda will be getting called in for her dinner before we’ve had a game.’
Ruby was almost spitting feathers with temper. And the look she gave her daughter as she joined her friend on the pavement, wasn’t lost on Irene. She’d bet a pound to a pinch of snuff that the girl would get a hammering for this. Unless Ruby was warned off. It was worth a try.
Watching the two girls marking the paving stones with a piece of chalk, Irene said casually, ‘If yer ever want to go out at night, Ruby, when Bob’s at work, yer can always leave Lucy with us, yer know. We’d love to have her.’
You bitch, Ruby thought. I bet yer had yer ears to the wall last night, listening. ‘What made yer ask that? Yer’ve never asked before.’
‘It was just a thought. She gets on well with the boys and would probably enjoy playing cards with them.’ Irene stretched to her full height and folded her arms under her ample bosom. ‘The offer’s there, if yer want to take me up on it sometime.’
‘No, Lucy usually goes to bed about eight o’clock.’ Then begrudgingly, she added, ‘But thanks all the same.’
‘Well, if yer change yer mind, just knock on the wall.’ Irene was determined to get her point across. ‘We’d have no trouble hearing yer – these walls are so thin yer can hear everything that goes on either side.’ She smiled as Lucy hopped from one square to another, her pink tongue peeping out of the side of her mouth. ‘She’s a beautiful child. I hope yer know how lucky yer are.’
Ruby had no intention of answering that. The nosy bitch had gone far enough. The next thing, she’d be inviting herself in for a cup of tea. ‘I’ll have to go in, or me stew will be sticking to the bottom of the pan.’
There was a half-smile on Irene’s chubby face. She’d gone as far as she could; she only hoped the message had got home. She’d keep her ears open tonight, just in case, but she had a feeling Ruby would be keeping her hands to herself, for a while at least.
Irene waited until Rhoda had completed the course before asking, ‘Who’s winning?’
‘We’re even, Mrs Pollard.’ Both girls were puffing and red in the face. After all, it was hard going hopping from one number to another. If you couldn’t keep your balance, and your other foot touched the ground, you were counted out.
Lucy grinned. ‘We always end up even, Mrs Pollard. We let each other win, don’t we, Rhoda?’
Rhoda’s long, stringy hair had been tied back with a piece of ribbon, but with the exertion, most of it had come loose and was hanging down her cheeks. She was the same age as Lucy, but a much bigger girl in every way. Inches taller than her friend, she was very heavily built. She worried about that, but her mam had told her it was puppy fat and she’d lose it as she grew older. A big smile covered her face now. ‘Lucy means we cheat, Mrs Pollard.’
Irene chuckled. ‘If yer both know ye’re doing it, then it’s not cheating, sunshine. It means ye’re such good friends yer want to share.’
‘Me dad’s taking me to town on Saturday, Mrs Pollard, to buy me some new clothes.’ Lucy’s face was aglow. Never before had she had anything so exciting to brag about. ‘Aren’t I lucky?’
Irene put on a suitably impressed face. ‘I’ll say yer are! I hope he buys yer a pretty dress to match yer pretty face.’ To say she was surprised would be putting it mildly. It sounded as though Bob had changed with a vengeance. ‘Will yer call and let us see yer in yer new clothes, sunshine?’
‘If me mam will let me.’ Some of the shine had gone from Lucy’s face. ‘I’ll ask her, but she might say I’m showing off.’
‘Anyone with new clothes wants to show them off, it’s only natural. Anyway, seeing as it’s yer dad what’s mugging yer, it’s him yer should ask.’
Lucy thought that over for a few seconds, then smiled. ‘Ye’re right, Mrs Pollard, I’ll ask me dad.’
Rhoda looked down in the mouth. ‘I wish me mam would take me with her when she buys my clothes, then I could pick what I like.’
‘Your mam buys yer lovely clothes!’ Lucy said. ‘Yer always look pretty.’
Irene took a deep breath. Next to her friend, Lucy always looked like a tramp, but she never complained. There was no envy or malice in her, she was a good kid through and through. What a pity her mother didn’t appreciate it. They say God makes them and matches them, but He had certainly slipped up when He’d matched this angel with a devil like Ruby Mellor.
Chapter Two
Lucy didn’t let her excitement show until she was standing on the pavement watching her dad pull the door closed behind him. All morning she’d been on pins in case something happened to spoil the treat she’d been looking forward to. Her mother’s face had been like thunder, and although she didn’t lift her hand to Lucy, she gave her a dig in the ribs every time she passed. It would have taken very little for her temper to explode, so the girl did as she was told without a word, while willing the hands on the clock to move faster until it was time for her dad to get up at ten o’clock. Even then she didn’t feel safe because although her dad seemed at ease chatting to her, not a word was exchanged between him and her mam. Still, it was over now and they were on their way.
Bob took his daughter’s hand and smiled down at her. ‘I think we’ll hop off the tram at Great Homer Street and try the market there, see if there’s anything doing. Yer never know, we might just be lucky and pick up a bargain. If not, we won’t have lost anything, and we can carry on into town. What d’yer think?’
�
�I’m that excited, Dad, I don’t care where we go.’ Lucy began to swing their joined hands. ‘I’ve never been into town before.’
Bob looked surprised. ‘Of course yer have!’
‘No, I haven’t, Dad, honest!’
‘I used to take yer through town, when yer were little, to get down to the Pier Head. Don’t yer remember going on the ferry boats?’
Lucy’s brow creased in concentration. ‘I remember little bits, but not much. I must have only been a baby, Dad.’
Bob nodded. ‘Yeah, I used to carry yer on me shoulders and yer mam was left to lug the sandwiches and towels and things.’ Suddenly he was filled with a great sadness. What had he been thinking of all these years, while his daughter’s childhood was passing her by? It would be easy to lay the blame at Ruby’s door, but he must bear some of the responsibility. He should have put his foot down at the very beginning, when his wife made the excuse of visiting one of her old workmates and came home smelling of drink. He’d been blind and stupid, and the one to suffer most had been his beloved daughter. All he could do now was try to make it up to her. ‘I’ll take yer on the ferry to New Brighton next time I’ve got a Saturday off. Would yer like that?’
‘I’d like it, Dad, but ye’re buying me new clothes and that’s what I’d like most. After all,’ she grinned up at him, ‘ye’re not made of money.’
‘Ye’re right there, pet, but what I’ve got I’ll have to stretch a long way. Like it was a piece of elastic.’
They didn’t have long to wait for a tram, and Lucy made for a window seat. Her eyes were wide as Bob told her the names of the streets and pointed out landmarks. When they reached Everton Valley, he said, ‘Next stop’s ours, pet.’
The market was absolutely packed. Lucy gripped her father’s hand tight, frightened by the mass of heaving bodies. ‘We’ll never get through there, Dad, we’ll get separated and I’ll lose yer. I wouldn’t know how to get home on me own, and I’ve no money for a tram.’
Bob put an arm across her shoulders. ‘You just hang on to me jacket like grim death, pet, and we’ll do what everyone else is doing, push our way through.’