by Joan Jonker
This brought a smile to Lucy’s face. ‘I’ll give yer six, that’ll be one for every day.’
Bob gave her a playful smack on the bottom. ‘I’ll put five in me pocket and take one out every morning.’
After waving his daughter off, Bob closed the door with a heavy heart. He was tired after working all night and would have loved nothing better than to get his head down. But things needed sorting out, and they needed doing now. But where to start, when his wife was making it plain she had no intention of meeting him halfway?
Ruby lit a cigarette and drew deeply on it when Bob came into the room. ‘Ye’re making a rod for yer own back with that girl, she’s getting far too cheeky.’
‘Let’s leave Lucy out of it, shall we? This is just between you and me.’
She raised her eyebrows. ‘Aren’t yer going to bed?’
‘Later.’ Bob looked down at the littered table. ‘Will yer clear these things away, please?’
‘I’ll do it when I’ve finished me cigarette. There’s no bleedin’ hurry, I’ve got all day.’
‘You might have, but I haven’t.’ Bob made no move to sit down. ‘I want a bit of comfort in me own home, if it’s not too much trouble.’
With the cigarette dangling out of the side of her mouth, Ruby began to stack the plates and cups. She did it almost in slow motion, with that hard look on her face and all the while blowing smoke in Bob’s direction. Her actions were deliberate, and her way of telling him she wasn’t going to knuckle under to him or anyone else.
Bob’s temper snapped as the incident in the canteen came back to remind him why he had to put his foot down. He leaned across the table, snatched the cigarette from her lips and flicked it into the grate. ‘I have never been nearer to hitting you than I am this minute. Don’t try me patience too far, Ruby, or yer’ll be sorry. Now get this mess cleared away and we’ll sit down and air our differences.’
The table was cleared within minutes and the chenille cloth put back. Then Bob gestured to a chair facing him. ‘I’m tired and ready for bed, but I’ll not leave this room until we come to an understanding. We can do it in a civilised manner or we can do it the hard way. It’s up to you.’
Ruby narrowed her eyes. ‘What d’yer mean, an understanding?’
‘If we’re to live under the same roof, there’s got to be give and take. For Lucy’s sake, we’ve got to try and get on together so she has a decent home life. Show each other a bit of respect and politeness. I’ll say what I would like, then you can have your turn. I’d like good food on the table when I’m home, and I’d like carry-out that doesn’t shame me in front of me workmates. I don’t want yer to use bad language in the house and I don’t want yer pulling the neighbours to pieces. Especially in front of Lucy.’ When Ruby opened her mouth, Bob raised a hand to silence her. ‘No, let me have my say first. Yer don’t leave our daughter alone in the house while ye’re out boozing with yer so-called mates, and I don’t want to see her treated like a skivvy. Other women in the street do their own housework and shopping, there’s no reason why you can’t. God knows, yer’ve got all day to do it in. And last but not least, I don’t want yer raising yer hand to her. She’s a good kid, not cheeky or forward. I’ve only heard her answering yer back twice, and that was called for because yer were saying nasty things about people she likes. She doesn’t deserve to be bawled at all the time, a kind word now and again wouldn’t go amiss. So I’m asking yer to keep yer voice down and yer hands to yerself.’ He met his wife’s eyes and could see the blazing anger there. ‘I’ve had my say, now it’s your turn.’
Ruby couldn’t get her words out quick enough. ‘You arrogant bastard! There’s got to be give and take, yer say, then reel off all the things I can and cannot do in me own flaming home! I’m a grown woman, not a child!’
Bob said quietly, ‘Then act like one.’
‘Everything yer’ve said is what you want, not a mention of what I might want. If you had your way, I’d be stuck in the house like a bleedin’ prisoner. I’m allowed to go to the shops because darling Lucy mustn’t do any shopping. She mustn’t help with the housework, either, ’cos she’s not a skivvy. No, I’m to be the skivvy!’
‘I’m only asking yer to do what every other mother does. Keep the home clean and warm, feed and look after yer family, and be pleasant. Is that too much to ask?’
‘And be the dutiful little wife? How soft you are!’ Anger made Ruby reach for her cigarette packet. And after she’d lit up, she stared him out. ‘And what happens if I don’t agree to this understanding, as yer call it?’
‘Yer’ll find out soon enough.’ Bob pointed to the cigarette packet she was holding. ‘Yer won’t be able to afford them, for a kick-off. And there’s a lot more yer won’t be able to afford. Like the stuff yer bleach yer hair with, and the muck yer thicken on yer face. Yer’ve had it easy with money up to now, buying yerself everything yer wanted while yer daughter walked around in rags. But all that will change if yer don’t agree to mend yer ways.’
Ruby could tell by his eyes and the tone of his voice that he meant every word. She’d be well advised to agree, or pretend to. ‘If I agree to everything yer’ve asked for, what do I get in return? Can I have a night out with me mates now and again, so I get a bit of pleasure out of life?’
‘When I’m on early shift, yer can go out every night if yer want, I’m not that interested. But when I’m working, you stay put.’
Ruby was gloating inwardly. As long as she got her housekeeping, and she had a few bob in her pocket, that’s all she was interested in. She’d found ways of getting out before when he was at work; she could do it again. Even if it was only an hour, after Lucy was asleep. He’d never find out, she thought craftily, so she’d go along with him. ‘What about me money? Do I go back to what I was getting before?’
Bob shook his head. ‘Not for a few weeks, until I’ve got enough saved to buy Lucy a new coat. She certainly could do with one, and I’m hoping to take her to town on her birthday so she can choose one she likes. After that we can go back to normal, but you’ll be responsible for buying her clothes and making sure she always looks decent. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll dock the money again and see to her meself.’ He stretched his arms over his head and yawned. ‘Have yer anything else to say? If yer have, get it off yer chest now.’
‘No, we’ll see how it works out. I’ll do my bit.’
‘Right! I’m off to bed then, ’cos right now I could sleep on a clothes line. If I’m not awake, give me a call about five o’clock.’
Ruby heard him climbing the stairs and pulled a face. What a miserable man she was married to. He had no life in him at all. All he thought about was work, bed, his tummy and his beloved daughter. Not like the men her mates were married to. They liked nothing better than taking their wives to the pub a few nights a week and having a laugh and a sing-song.
She threw the cigarette stub into the hearth, and after telling herself she didn’t have much to do and all day to do it in, she decided another smoke wouldn’t do no harm. And as she watched a smoke ring drift towards the ceiling, she asked herself what she’d ever seen in Bob Mellor. Oh, he was tall, dark and handsome, all right, but he wasn’t exciting. And that’s what she wanted, some excitement in her life.
Chapter Four
‘Hey, Aggie!’ Irene Pollard saw her neighbour walking up the street ahead of her and hurried to catch up. ‘What’s the big rush, sunshine? Have yer got a heavy date?’
‘Yer could say that, queen.’ Aggie’s smile was wide, showing that this wasn’t a day for her gums to be on display. ‘The postman brought a letter from Titch this morning and his ship’s docking some time today.’
Irene linked her arm and squeezed. ‘That’s what yer call good news, eh?’ Tommy McBride was Aggie’s son, the only family she had. And she idolised him. ‘It’s been a long trip this time, hasn’t it?’
‘Four months. I’ve been expecting a letter every day, ’cos I knew he was due any time. But he’s still
caught me on the hop, with a pantry as bare as Mother Hubbard’s. So I’m off to the shops to stock up, ’cos yer know what an appetite he’s got. He eats me out of house and home when he’s here, but it’s a pleasure to see the way he tucks into anything yer put before him.’ Aggie’s chuckle was hearty. ‘He used to lick his bleedin’ plate clean when he was a youngster, but I had to put a stop to that when he was twenty-one ’cos it didn’t look right somehow.’
‘Yer can tell he likes his food, Aggie, he’s a giant of a man. That’s why I can’t understand how he got the nickname Titch! There’s nothing small about him.’
‘The kids called him that when he started school because he was very small and skinny. He didn’t start growing until he was about twelve, and so help me, Irene, I thought he’d never stop. But everyone knew him as Titch, and the name stuck. The only time I call him Tommy is when I’m telling him off.’
Irene chortled. ‘Yer can’t tell a forty-year-old man off, Aggie, that’s daft.’
‘That’s what he gets told off for, queen, being daft. He might be forty, but he’s never grown up in the head. He’s always playing tricks on me, and if he wasn’t so big I’d box his ears for him.’ When Aggie laughed, her top set of teeth became loose and she stuck her thumb in her mouth to push them back into place. ‘Last time he was home he hid me purse on me. I didn’t know he’d hidden it, like, and I searched high and low for the bleedin’ thing. I didn’t let on to him in case he said I was careless, but after looking everywhere, I was getting frantic. It was only when the club woman knocked he took it out of his pocket and handed it to me, looking all innocent, as though butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. “Is this what ye’re looking for, Ma?” he asked. I could have brained him, I didn’t think it was a bit funny. But when I came back after paying the club woman, he had one of the wooden chairs in the middle of the room. He held his hand out and said, “Here yer are, Ma, I’ll help yer stand on it. I deserve me ears boxing for pulling a stunt like that. I’m a fool to meself, that’s what I am. After all, yer could have had a heart attack, and who’d have made me dinner for me then, eh?”’
Irene was shaking with laughter as she pictured the scene. ‘There’s never a dull moment with your Titch around, is there? But I bet yer wouldn’t have him any different, though, because I know yer love the bones of him.’
‘Ye’re right there, queen. He’s been going to sea since he was eighteen, and I don’t see that much of him. But I treasure every minute he’s with me.’ Aggie put a hand on Irene’s arm and pulled her to a stop outside a butcher’s shop. ‘I’m going in here, love, to get some shin beef. When Titch gets home there’ll be a pan of scouse simmering on the stove, and four light-as-a-feather dumplings ready to pop in. He always looks forward to his favourite meal on his first day home.’
‘I’m made up for yer, Aggie, and I hope he gets a decent leave this time. Tell him to give his friends a knock when he can, we’d love to see him.’
‘If I know my son, he’ll make sure he’s home in plenty of time to eat his meal and go down to the pub. He wouldn’t miss either on his first night. Nor would he miss asking George and Bob to go for a welcome home drink with him. So tell George to expect a knock, will yer?’
Irene nodded. ‘I’ll do that, he’ll be tickled pink to see Titch again. And as luck would have it, Bob’s on early shift this week, so he can join them.’
‘I’ll have to go, queen, ’cos I’ve a fair bit of shopping to do to make me larder look a bit healthier. One egg and one rasher of bacon doesn’t look out of place when yer live alone, but yer can’t feed a hungry man on it. Besides, I can afford to splash out a bit today because Titch put a pound note in with his letter.’
‘So, ye’re not only happy, but rich as well?’ Irene was pleased for her neighbour. Aggie never complained, but she must get lonely at times. Her husband, Les, had died ten years ago, and although Titch had offered to find a shore job at the time, she wouldn’t hear of it. The sea was in his blood, and although he argued otherwise, she knew he wouldn’t be happy working in a factory and sent him off to join his ship, so great was the love this mother had for her son. ‘I might see yer tonight, then, Aggie, if Titch doesn’t bring a bottle of the hard stuff home with him, like he did last time. Yer were too drunk to go down to the pub!’
‘Nah, I wasn’t, queen.’ Aggie’s teeth fell down again. The trouble was, her gums felt much better without them and kept pushing them out. So there was a constant war between teeth and gums. But the gums were fighting a losing battle today. No way was Aggie having her son come home to a mother with no teeth in. ‘I was a bit tipsy, perhaps, but certainly not so legless I couldn’t make it down to the pub. I just felt the men would feel more free to talk if they were on their own.’
Irene laughed. ‘I’ll believe yer, where thousands wouldn’t. Anyway, sunshine, I’ll be on me way. Ta-ra for now.’
Aggie heard the key turn in the lock and stood up. Her tummy was doing somersaults with excitement and her heart was crying out with hunger for the sight of her beloved son. Then she heard his familiar voice. ‘What’s that delicious smell? I must be in the wrong house. We never have no smells like that in our house, ’cos me ma’s a lousy cook.’
Aggie rounded the table and held her arms wide. ‘Ye’re a cheeky bugger. But I’ll forgive yer, seeing as it’s yer first day home.’
‘Ma, it’s good to see yer.’ Titch put his hands on her waist and lifted her until their faces were on a level. ‘Ye’re still as pretty as ever. I swear yer look younger every time I come home. Give us a kiss.’
They hugged for a while, then Aggie whispered in his ear, ‘I’d better put the dumplings in before the stew burns dry.’
‘What! Dumplings as well!’ Titch gently set her down. ‘Anyone would think yer were glad to see me.’
‘And they wouldn’t be far wrong, son, I’m over the moon.’ Aggie pushed the sleeves of her dress up. ‘Let’s get this dinner on the go, ye’re probably starving.’ She turned at the kitchen door. ‘Where’s yer bag?’
‘I dropped it in the hall in me haste to feast me eyes on yer.’
‘Well, get yer dirty clothes out and I can put them in the tub to steep overnight.’
Titch leaned against the door jamb. ‘There’s no need, Ma, yer can do that tomorrow.’
For a brief second, Aggie felt a stab of sadness. He had all the mannerisms of Les, right down to the way he walked, held his head, and even his lopsided grin. He had the same mop of brown hair, too, and blue eyes. But he was taller than his father had been, and broader. And his face was weather-beaten with being at sea for so long, out in all weathers. She shook her head to dispel the memories. ‘Do it now, son, so I’m not rushing to get them washed and ironed at the last minute.’
There was a smile on her son’s face as he watched for her reaction to what he had to say. ‘Ma, I’m home for two and a half weeks. So yer’ve got all the time in the world.’
Aggie’s mouth gaped. ‘If you’re having me on, I’ll break yer bleedin’ neck for yer.’
‘Scout’s honour, Ma, I’m home for eighteen days. And with being away such a long time, with nothing to spend me wages on, I’ve got quite a bit saved up. So I’ll take yer into town tomorrow and treat yer to whatever takes yer fancy. Yer can have anything yer like, the sky’s the limit.’
‘I don’t want nothing, son, having yer home is treat enough for me.’ Then the mother in her came out. ‘And don’t yer be carrying a load of money around with yer, either. If I know you, yer’ll be treating everyone in the bleedin’ pub. Throwing yer money around like a man with no flaming hands.’
‘I’m not that soft, Ma, it’s got to last me until I sail again. And I want to see you’re all right when I leave. So I’ll just mug me mates, George and Bob, and that’s about it, apart from a few pennies for the kids. Does that meet with your approval?’
‘I’m not a miser, son, and I’ll help anyone out if they’re stuck. But yer should be putting some money aside in case yer
ever need it. One of these days yer might meet a girl, fall in love and want to settle down. And yer’ll need money to do that.’
There was a smile on her son’s face as he watched her lift two plates down from the shelf that ran the length of the kitchen wall. ‘Ma, it’s true what they say about a sailor having a girl in every port, yer know. It’s not that I’ve never had me chances, ’cos to tell the truth I’ve been spoilt for choice. I’ve had plenty of flings, because being a red-blooded man I do like the ladies. But I’ve never met one who I could fall head over heels in love with. One who I would want to spent the rest of me life with. So ye’re stuck with me, Ma, because I’ve not come across one yet that can hold a candle to yer.’
Aggie tutted. ‘Go ’way, yer daft ha’porth. Sit yerself down and stop yapping to me, or I’ll be burning the backside out of this pan.’
Half an hour later, Titch pushed his empty plate away and rubbed his tummy. ‘The captain would have a very happy crew if the ship’s cook could make dumplings like you. The ones he makes are so heavy I’m surprised the blinking ship hasn’t sunk by now.’
‘Ah, well, there’s a knack to it, yer see.’ Aggie nodded knowingly. ‘He probably puts too much suet in them. Tell him I said to just put half the amount in that he usually does, and see how they turn out.’
Titch smiled as he imagined what the scene would be in the galley if he told the cook his mother had advised him to put less suet in his dumplings. The air would be blue with words his mam wouldn’t even know the meaning of. ‘I’ll do that, Ma.’ He leaned back against the chair and reached into his pocket for his pipe. ‘Any news for me? How are the Pollards and the Mellors?’
‘The Pollards are fine. They’re a lovely family, the salt of the earth. Young Jack leaves school in two weeks and he’s a scream. He was leaning against the wall last night, watching his mates playing marbles, and I asked him why he wasn’t playing. “I’m practising, Mrs Aggie,” he said. I asked him what he was practising, because all he was doing was leaning against the wall. “I’m practising not playing marbles. Yer see, Mrs Aggie, I’ll be going into long kecks when I leave school, and me mam said if she sees me even looking at the gutter while I’ve got them on, she’ll box me ears for me. And as I’m fond of me ears, and don’t want them boxed, I’m practising hard at not playing marbles.”’