by Joan Jonker
Lucy gradually calmed down as she got used to the pushing and shoving and the noise of the stallholders shouting out their wares. She would have liked to have seen what they were selling, but the crowd standing in front of the stalls was so deep it was impossible to see anything.
‘There’s a woman selling children’s clothes,’ Bob said. ‘Let’s make our way over there.’ He elbowed a path through the crowds, pulling Lucy behind him. ‘Some of those look nice.’ He pointed to a makeshift rail where there was a display of girls’ dresses. ‘Is there anything there that takes yer fancy?’
‘They’re all nice, Dad, but it doesn’t say how much they are.’
‘There’s only one way to find out, and that’s to ask.’ Ignoring the dark looks being cast his way, Bob pushed and manoeuvred until they were in front of the trestle table which was piled high with secondhand children’s clothes. ‘How much are those dresses, Missus?’
‘They’re all different prices, lad,’ said the stallholder, wearing the uniform long black skirt and black knitted shawl. ‘Show me which one and I’ll tell yer the price. Dirt cheap, they are – yer won’t get anything cheaper if yer travel the length and breadth of Liverpool.’
‘Which one, Lucy?’ Bob looked down into those wide green eyes which were now shining with excitement. ‘What about that one with flowers on, and a lace collar? That would look nice on yer.’
But Lucy knew which one she liked the best as soon as she’d set eyes on it. It was in a deep maroon cotton, very plain with a round neck and long sleeves. If she was going to get a new dress, that was the one her heart would choose. She pointed to it. ‘That’s the one I like, Dad, but it might be too dear.’
Bob crossed his fingers as he asked, ‘How much is that one?’
‘Two and six, lad, and that’s practically giving it away.’
‘Would it fit me daughter?’
The stallholder eyed Lucy. ‘How old are yer, girl?’
Lucy had never felt so important in her life. Being able to choose her own clothes was something she’d never known before. She took what was thrown at her and was never asked if she liked it. ‘I’m eleven, Missus, but I’ll be twelve in four weeks’ time.’
When the stallholder smiled, she showed a row of yellow teeth, but her smile was wide and friendly. ‘Ye’re very dainty for yer age, girl, and very pretty, too. That dress will fit yer like a glove, as though it was made for yer. Yer’ll have all the lads whistling after yer when yer walk out in it.’
Bob handed the half-a-crown over, and as he waited for the dress to be hooked down, Lucy was looking through the clothes piled on the table. She tugged on her father’s sleeve and when he looked down, she beckoned for him to bend so she could whisper in his ear. ‘Dad, there’s girls’ knickers here. Could I have a pair, please?’
‘But they’re secondhand ones, pet. Yer wouldn’t want to wear someone else’s cast-offs, would yer? Not knickers, anyway.’
‘They’d be clean if I gave them a good wash, wouldn’t they?’ Lucy was embarrassed and averted her eyes. ‘They’re better than the two pair I’ve got. The elastic’s gone on them and I have to pin them up.’
Bob closed his eyes. Dear God, what was that wife of his thinking of? He gave her enough money to keep the child well fed and clothed. Had she no love at all for her daughter, no shame that the child was going around with pins in her knickers? And this was only the start. There was plenty more he didn’t know about, of that he was sure. ‘Pick three decent pair out, pet, and they’ll keep yer going until we can get yer new ones.’
The stallholder didn’t appear to be listening, but she heard every word. Working the markets gave you an insight into people, taught you how to sort the wheat from the chaff. So when Bob handed over the three pair of knickers, she knocked a penny off the price of each pair. ‘That’ll be a tanner, lad. And if yer don’t mind me saying so, yer’ve got a little cracker there, so you take good care of her, mind.’
Bob smiled his thanks then guided Lucy through the crowds and out into the street. ‘How would yer like a little treat? What d’yer say about getting a tram down to TJ’s and having a cup of tea in the café´ there?’
Lucy was clutching the paper bag and telling herself this was the best day of her life. She couldn’t wait to show Rhoda her new dress. She wouldn’t tell her about the knickers though, she’d be too ashamed. ‘That would be the gear, Dad, but can yer afford it? Yer’ve spent a lot of money on me as it is.’
‘I’ve still got a few bob left, pet, so don’t be worrying. Come on, let’s get down to London Road, me throat’s parched.’
The butter ran down Lucy’s chin as she bit into the toasted teacake, her eyes wide as she gazed around the tables. Every chair was occupied and the room was buzzing with adults trying to talk above the sound of screaming children. ‘All these people, Dad, wouldn’t yer wonder where they came from?’
‘Liverpool’s a big city, pet.’ Bob grinned as he passed over a hankie. ‘Wipe yer chin before the butter runs on to yer coat.’ He groaned as he silently told himself one more stain on the shabby coat wouldn’t even be noticed. It was so faded it was difficult to know what its original colour had been, and the sleeves, about three inches too short, were threadbare. ‘In a couple of weeks, when I’ve had time to save up, I’ll mug yer to a new coat. Heaven knows, yer could do with one.’
‘This one’s all right, Dad, I only wear it to go to school.’
Bob shook his head. ‘No, it’s a complete new rig-out yer need, and that’s what yer’ll have as soon as I can get the money together. What about yer shoes, are they in good nick?’
Lucy pushed her feet as far back under the chair as she could. ‘They’re fine, Dad, they’ll last me for ages yet.’
‘Then why are yer hiding them under the chair? Come on, pet, there’s no need to be frightened, let me see.’
Lucy cast her eyes down as she slid her feet forward. ‘See, I told yer, Dad, there’s still plenty of wear in them. I gave them a good polish before we came out.’
That’s her mother talking, Bob told himself as he bent down to remove one of her shoes. They weren’t the words of an eleven-year-old girl. And the anger he felt when he examined the shoe was so strong, he could feel his head throbbing. The heel was worn right down on one side, which must have made it agony to walk on, and there was an inch-round hole in the middle of the sole. He turned the shoe over and felt like crying when he saw how his daughter had tried to hide the scuffmarks with shoe polish.
Bob swallowed hard, trying to shift the lump that had formed in his throat. What sort of a father was he, not to have seen all this? ‘Lucy, why didn’t yer tell me yer didn’t have a decent pair of shoes? I would have done something if I’d known, but the trouble is, pet, yer never complain. Yer don’t have to put up with using pins in yer knickers or wearing shoes that are only fit for the back of the fire. Yer’ve got to start speaking up for yerself.’
‘Me mam said she didn’t have any money.’ Lucy spoke quietly, afraid of saying too much and then being the recipient of her mother’s anger.
Bob sighed. ‘I give yer mother enough money to manage on, pet, more than most women in the street get.’ He was also careful about what he said. It wouldn’t do to criticise his wife to his daughter. ‘It’s just that she’s not very good with money, she spends it on the wrong things. There are lots of women like that, they’re just not good managers. So in future, you come to me if yer need anything. And don’t be frightened of upsetting yer mam by coming to me, ’cos I’ll have a word with her. I’ll see to yer clothes, and that’ll be one less worry off her mind.’
‘Yeah, okay, Dad.’ Lucy took her shoe and slipped it on. ‘Don’t look now, but yer toasted teacake has gone cold.’
‘Won’t stop me eating it, pet.’ Bob folded the teacake and took a bite. ‘I noticed the shoe department when we came in. We’ll have a gander and see if me money will stretch to a pair of cheap shoes for yer.’
He was counting up in his hea
d how much money he had in his pocket as they entered the shoe department. He had to keep enough for his fares to work, the five Woodbines he bought every day and a couple of bob for drinks tonight. Saturday night was the only time he went out with Ruby. They only went to the corner pub because of leaving Lucy on her own and his wife wouldn’t be very happy to forego that pleasure, even for the sake of seeing her daughter in a decent pair of shoes.
Lucy tugged on his sleeve. ‘Dad, these plimsoles are only elevenpence ha’penny, they’d do for me.’
‘They’d be no good if it rained, yer feet would be sopping wet. Let’s look around before we decide.’ The price of girls’ shoes went from half-a-crown up to the seven and six ankle bands that Lucy was gazing at with eyes and mouth wide open. In black shiny patent leather, with the straps fastening at the front with a button, they were the most beautiful shoes she’d ever seen. Bob saw her face and sighed. She was so pretty, she deserved the clothes to match, but they were out of his reach. ‘I’m sorry, pet, me pocket doesn’t run to that.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t want them, Dad, they’re too posh. None of me friends have got them and they’d think I was swanking.’ She started to giggle. ‘Can yer see me playing hopscotch in them? I wouldn’t enjoy meself, I’d be terrified of scratching them.’
Bob picked up a pair of the half-a-crown lace ups. They looked what they were, a pair of cheap shoes. But they were sturdy and she’d get good wear out of them. ‘Sit on that stool, pet, and I’ll get the assistant to find the right size for yer.’
‘Are yer sure yer can afford them, Dad? I can wait a few more weeks, yer know.’
‘We’ll get them now, while we’re here.’ Bob had gone well over what he intended spending, and wondered what he could forfeit to make it up. He had to keep his tram fare otherwise he wouldn’t be able to get to work, and he wasn’t going to give up his Woodbines, they were one of the few pleasures he had in life. So they’d have to give the pub a miss, it wouldn’t kill them for one night. And the pleasure on Lucy’s face made it worthwhile.
Ruby sat with a scowl on her face as Lucy brought her new clothes out of the bags. She showed no enthusiasm, passed no compliments. And her silence angered Bob, who tried to make up for her lack of interest. ‘I can’t wait to see yer in the dress, pet. Nip upstairs and put it on for us.’
Lucy was so excited, even her mother’s attitude couldn’t dampen her spirits. She felt as though a good fairy had waved a magic wand and she suddenly had a beautiful dress, new shoes and even knickers. And she’d been in a café and had tea and toasted teacakes. She had never known a day like this, and she was too ecstatic to wonder if there would ever be another. ‘I’ll go and put them on, Dad, and swank.’
When Bob heard her taking the stairs two at a time, he quietly closed the door before facing his wife. ‘Would it have killed you to show some pleasure in yer daughter’s new clothes? What sort of a mother are yer?’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t know what brought on the change in yer, but ye’re certainly not the woman I married. It’s like living with a complete stranger – someone I don’t even like.’
‘Those clothes were bought with my housekeeping money.’ Ruby spat the words out. ‘So don’t expect me to go in a swoon over them.’
Bob felt like wiping the sneer off her painted face, but he would never lift a hand to a woman. So he got his revenge in words. ‘Not only yer housekeeping, Ruby, but also yer Saturday-night pleasure. I’ve no money left for the pub tonight, so yer can settle yerself in to listen to the wireless. It won’t worry yer, though, will it? Being the good mother yer are, yer’ll be quite happy knowing yer daughter won’t have to pin her knickers up again, nor wear a shoe with a ruddy big hole in the sole.’
Ruby’s eyes were nearly popping out of her head and her nostrils were wide and white. ‘Not going to the pub! The one night in the week yer take me out, and yer’ve gone and spent all yer money on that little faggot?’
‘Not on a little faggot, Ruby, on our daughter. And Saturday may be the only night I take yer out, but it certainly isn’t the only night you go out. In fact, ye’re out more often than ye’re in. So I don’t think yer have anything to complain about.’ He heard footsteps on the landing and spoke quietly, but threateningly. ‘You say one word out of place to that child and by God, yer’ll be sorry. It won’t be five shillings short in yer money, it’ll be ten. So think on before yer put yer foot in it.’
Lucy had never had anything to show off before, and she was shy as she stood inside the door. ‘How do I look, Dad?’
‘Oh pet, yer look as pretty as a picture. The dress looks lovely on yer, fits like it’s been made for yer. Go and stand in front of yer mam and see if she likes it.’
Lucy gave him a quick glance before crossing to where her mother sat. ‘D’yer like me new dress, Mam?’
The words were so begrudged, Ruby had to force them out. ‘Yeah, it’s nice.’
Lucy could sense the antagonism in the voice but wouldn’t let it prey on her mind. No one was going to spoil today for her. So tossing her hair, she turned back to her father. ‘Can I go and show Rhoda? And Mrs Pollard asked me to call and let her see me new dress.’
That was too much for Ruby. ‘You keep away from that nosy cow next door. All she’s good for is pulling people to pieces. The less she knows about our business, the better.’
Lucy’s eyes widened in surprise. How could her mam say that about their neighbour? ‘But she’s nice, is Mrs Pollard. Everyone likes her ’cos she’s always happy and friendly. She never shouts at the kids like some women,’ the girl almost stamped her foot at the injustice of her mother’s words, ‘and she’s not a nosy cow, either.’
Ruby was halfway out of her chair when she caught Bob’s eye. So the slap she thought her daughter deserved would have to wait for another time. But that time would come. In the meanwhile, she contented herself with saying, ‘Don’t yer ever dare answer me back like that.’
Bob was thoughtful as he looked down at his clasped hands. He didn’t want to set mother and daughter against each other, but Lucy had to learn that when someone said something bad about a person she liked, and she knew it was untrue, she should stick to her guns and say so. ‘Lucy wasn’t answering yer back, Ruby, she was stating a fact. Irene Pollard is one of the kindest, nicest people ye’re ever likely to come across. If you don’t like her, that’s your misfortune, but don’t expect others to agree with yer.’
Lucy thought it would be best if she made herself scarce, then she couldn’t cause any more trouble. ‘I’m going, Dad, but I won’t be long.’
‘Yer’ll bowl ’em over, pet,’ Bob called after her. ‘They won’t recognise yer.’
Rhoda opened the door and her eyes popped. She turned her head and called, ‘Ay, Mam, come and see who’s at the door.’
Jessie Fleming came out drying her hands on the corner of her pinny. ‘What is it, love, someone on the borrow?’ Then she saw Lucy, standing there looking so proud, and her face split into a smile. ‘Well, I never! Who is this young girl dressed up to the nines? I don’t recall seeing her before.’
Lucy giggled. ‘Me dad took me into town and mugged me, Mrs Fleming. D’yer like me dress,’ she did a little twirl, ‘and me shoes?’
‘Yer look a treat, love.’ Jessie was thinking it was about time someone took an interest in the girl. ‘The dress looks lovely on yer, and the colour suits yer.’
For the first time, since the day they’d started school together, Rhoda had reason to be envious of her friend. ‘I bet yer picked it yerself, didn’t yer?’
Lucy nodded. ‘They were all hanging on a rail, and I liked this one the best.’
‘Yer see!’ Rhoda flashed her eyes at her mother. ‘You won’t take me with yer to buy my clothes, so I have to have what you like. It’s not fair.’
‘But yer mam buys yer lovely clothes.’ Lucy was feeling sorry she came. Now she’d started a row between her friend and her mother. ‘Yer don’t know how lucky yer are, ’cos yer gets loads more t
hings than I do.’
Jessie folded her plump arms and leaned back against the door. ‘Take no notice of misery guts here, Lucy, she always finds something to moan about. If I bought her a ballgown, she’d complain because I didn’t get her a tiara to go with it.’
Lucy grinned. ‘She’s not always moaning, Mrs Fleming, not to me, anyway. She’s me very best friend.’
Rhoda pulled a face at her mother. ‘There, yer see, I’m not a misery guts.’
‘I know ye’re not, sweetheart, ye’re all sweetness and light. And for that reason, next time yer need a new dress I’ll take yer with me and yer can choose yer own.’
Rhoda flung her arms around her mother’s neck and kissed her soundly. ‘Ooh, ye’re the best mam in the whole world.’
‘It’ll be a different story if I’ve left the dinner to burn. I’d better get back in and see to it, otherwise there’ll be ructions if I put a burnt offering down to yer dad.’ She leaned forward and stroked Lucy’s hair. ‘Yer look lovely, girl, a real little princess.’ She began to chuckle. ‘If I ever get down to buying a tiara for our Rhoda, I’ll get one for you while I’m at it.’
When her mother disappeared into the house, Rhoda was feeling very kindly towards her friend. ‘Yer do look nice, Lucy, the dress really suits yer. And I’m not half glad yer came down to show us, ’cos now me mam’s promised to let me choose me own, and she never goes back on a promise. So yer’ve done me a good turn, kid.’
‘Yeah, yer owe me one. So next time we have a game of rounders, yer can let me win. That’ll make us even.’ Lucy rubbed her arms briskly. There was a cool breeze blowing and the cotton dress wasn’t much protection against it. ‘I’ll have to go, Rhoda, I promised to call in and see Mrs Pollard, and it’s nearly teatime. I’ll see yer tomorrow, eh?’
‘Okay, Lucy. Ta-ra for now.’
Lucy took to her heels and ran the short distance to her neighbour’s house. The door was opened by Jack, who at fourteen was the eldest of Irene’s two sons. He gaped at Lucy, then bawled, ‘Hey, Mam, come and get a load of this.’