Stay as Sweet as You Are

by Joan Jonker

  Lucy finished her dinner and carried her plate out to the kitchen. After washing it in the bowl of water in the sink she left it to drip on the draining board. It was April and the nights didn’t start getting dark until late, so on the way home from school, she and Rhoda had decided to go for a walk and do some window shopping. They enjoyed pressing their noses against the shop windows and pointing to what they’d buy if they had the money.

  ‘I’m going over to Rhoda’s, Mam.’ Lucy walked through to the living room where her mother was sitting reading the Echo with a cigarette dangling out of the corner of her mouth. ‘I won’t be late.’

  ‘Yer better hadn’t be, yer little faggot. I want yer back in this house by half-seven.’ Ruby turned a page of the paper, her eyes screwed up against the smoke swirling upwards from her nostrils. ‘And not a minute later.’

  ‘I’m not coming in at half-seven, I’m too big for that now.’ Months had passed since the night Ruby had come home drunk, but Lucy had never forgotten or forgiven. Her dad said he’d cut his hand on a nail, but the girl knew better. And she never spoke to her mother unless it was absolutely necessary. ‘Yer seem to forget I’m turned thirteen and will be leaving school in seven months.’

  ‘Don’t be giving me any of yer bleedin’ lip, my girl, or yer’ll be sorry. I said half-seven and if yer know what’s good for yer, yer’ll be in this house by then.’

  Lucy was stung by the injustice. Children of eight and nine were allowed to stay out later than that. ‘I won’t, Mam, ’cos ye’re not being fair.’

  Ruby threw the paper on the floor and rounded the table to where her daughter stood. ‘Yer’ll do as I say.’ She poked a stiffened finger in Lucy’s chest. ‘Half-seven in this house, eight o’clock bed. Yer heard what I said, yer haven’t got cloth ears.’

  Lucy was shaking with fear, but she stood her ground. ‘I won’t do as yer say, ’cos ye’re mean and wicked.’

  Ruby grabbed hold of the front of Lucy’s gymslip and pulled her forward until their noses were nearly touching. ‘Don’t have me start on yer, yer little faggot. ’Cos if I do, yer’ll be sorry yer signed.’

  Lucy never knew where she got the courage from, but she couldn’t have stopped the words even if she’d wanted to. ‘I know why yer want me in bed early. It’s because me dad’s on afternoons and yer have to meet yer mates early so ye’re back in time to make supper.’

  Ruby was dumbstruck. She stared at Lucy for a few long seconds, then dropped the hand holding the gymslip. ‘What are yer talking about, yer stupid bitch? I’m not going out! I only go round to me mates when yer father’s on early shift.’

  ‘Mam, why do yer tell so many lies? My bedroom is at the back of the house, remember, and I hear yer closing the kitchen door and the yard door. Yer go out at least twice a week when me dad’s on afternoons and nights. Don’t deny it, ’cos I don’t only hear yer, I’ve seen yer creeping down the yard when yer think I’m fast asleep. It’s been going on for months now, and I have thought of telling me dad but I don’t want to add to his worry. He doesn’t have a happy life, my dad, and it’s all your fault.’

  Ruby’s mind was in a spin and her temper was raging. But she was crafty enough to know her daughter had her over a barrel and could make life very difficult for her. She was going to Wally’s house tonight and he’d go mad if she let him down, so she did something she never thought she would, she crawled. ‘Look, I’m sorry if I’ve upset yer, I didn’t mean to. And I do only go to me mates’, I swear. I can’t be expected to stay in this house day and night, it’s not fair. And I’m not doing any harm just sitting in me mates’ for a couple of hours having a chinwag and a bottle of stout.’

  Lucy turned her head away. She was filled with disgust and didn’t believe a word her mother said. But she would never tell her dad, for fear of losing him. ‘I’m going out now and I won’t come in until I’m ready. You can please yerself what yer do, I’m quite capable of seeing meself to bed.’ There was a cardigan hanging over the back of a chair and Lucy picked it up and slipped her arms into the sleeves. She was halfway to the door when she spun round. ‘I’m not going to say anything to me dad, but it’s not because I’m on your side. Yer see, just because ye’re me mam doesn’t mean I’ve got to like yer, ’cos I don’t. And me dad will find yer out for himself one of these days.’

  When Lucy left the room, little did she know how soon her words were to come true.

  ‘Hello, Mrs Aggie.’

  ‘Hello, queen.’ Aggie was standing on her doorstep taking advantage of the nice weather. ‘Ye’re looking very pleased with yerself. Like the cat what got the cream.’

  Lucy giggled. ‘I’m happy ’cos I’m going to the pictures with me dad. I’ve just been over to tell Rhoda I won’t be seeing her tonight.’

  ‘That’s nice for yer.’ Aggie stepped back into the hallway. ‘Come in for a minute, queen, and keep an old woman company.’

  ‘Okay, me dinner won’t be ready for another fifteen minutes.’ Lucy was so full of beans she skipped into the living room. ‘I like going out with me dad, just the two of us together.’

  ‘Like a courting couple, eh, queen?’

  Lucy tilted her head and fixed her large green eyes on the woman rocking back and forth in her chair. ‘Would yer think I was cheeky if I asked yer something, Mrs Aggie?’

  ‘Now how can I answer that if I don’t know what it is ye’re going to ask me? Go ahead and ask, and then I’ll tell yer whether it was cheeky.’

  ‘Is Mr Titch courting Steve’s mam?’

  The rocking stopped and Aggie sat forward. ‘I’ll tell yer what, queen. Why don’t you and I put all the facts together and see what we come up with, eh?’

  ‘Well, I know he took her to the pictures when he was home on leave last time.’

  ‘Twice he took her. And as yer know he was only home for a week. So what does that tell us, queen? D’yer think it means they’re courting?’

  ‘Ooh, I don’t know, Mrs Aggie. But he’s never done it before, has he? So I suppose it must mean something.’

  ‘Ye’re not jealous, are yer, Lucy?’

  ‘Of course not, silly!’ Lucy’s giggle filled the room. ‘I love Mr Titch, but I think he’s a bit too old for me. I hope he is courting Mrs Fletcher ’cos I think she’s lovely. I did ask Steve, being nosy, like, but he said it’s too soon to say.’

  ‘For a lad of fifteen he’s very sensible, is Steve. And what a handsome lad he’s turning out to be, eh? He’ll turn a few heads in another year or so.’

  Lucy looked surprised. ‘But Steve’s always been nice-looking, Mrs Aggie. At least, I think he has. And Jack, next door.’ She leaned forward and lowered her voice. ‘I’ll tell yer who else is nice-looking – that Andrew Bentley from the top of the street. The one whose mother tries to speak posh and thinks she’s better than anyone else.’

  Aggie chuckled. ‘So, yer’ve got three smashers lined up to choose from when ye’re a little bit older. That can’t be bad, can it?’

  ‘Ooh, not Andrew Bentley, thank yer very much. He’s nice to look at but not nice inside. Every time he sees me he tries to get me to stop and talk to him, but I always say I’m on a message and haven’t got the time.’

  ‘He’s working now, isn’t he?’

  ‘Yeah, he’s fifteen, the same age as Steve and Jack.’

  ‘Yer know, queen, yer can’t take it out on the lad because his mother’s a snob. It wouldn’t be fair because he can’t help what his mother is.’

  This brought a frown to Lucy’s face. She’d never thought of it like that before. And she should have done, because she wouldn’t like anyone to think that she took after her mother. ‘Ye’re right, Mrs Aggie, he can’t help what his mam is. But he’s a bit of a snob himself on the quiet.’ She began to giggle. ‘Rhoda calls him Andy, and he goes mad.’

  ‘She’s very outspoken, your friend. If she thinks it, she says it, and to hell with the consequences.’

  ‘I know, I keep telling her about it. But she says
it’s better to say what yer think than be polished with someone and then talk about them behind their back.’ Lucy glanced at the clock. ‘I’ll have to go, Mrs Aggie, or I’ll get told off.’

  ‘Off yer go, then, queen, and enjoy yerself. Come in tomorrow night and tell me what the picture was all about.’

  ‘Where shall we go, pet? Would yer like to see Claudette Colbert and Robert Young, or Jean Arthur and Ray Milland?’

  ‘Ooh, Robert Young, Dad. He’s one of me favourites.’

  Ruby pricked up her ears. If these two were going out it meant she could get away early. ‘Yer haven’t forgotten this is one of me nights out, have yer?’

  ‘I don’t see what difference that makes to me taking Lucy to the flicks.’ Bob speared the last bit of potato and popped it into his mouth before pushing his plate away. ‘We’d better make a move, pet, if we don’t want to miss the short comedies.’

  Ruby waited until she heard the door close behind them before allowing a smile to appear on her face. The silly bugger thought taking his daughter to the first-house pictures was a big deal. He didn’t know what real enjoyment was, but she did. Wally had taught her. And she’d be getting an extra half-hour of it tonight in his bed under the feather eiderdown. He was a real man, was Wally, he knew how to make a woman happy.

  Bob glanced in the window of the corner shop as they were passing, and asked, ‘Would yer like some sweets, love?’

  ‘Can yer afford it, Dad?’

  Bob smiled and ruffled the dark curly hair. He was three shillings a week better off now, since he dropped Ruby’s housekeeping money. ‘I wouldn’t ask yer if I couldn’t afford it.’ He passed a penny over. ‘You get what yer want, I’ll wait here for yer.’

  Steve was in the shop carrying bags of coal in from the storeroom. He came every night straight from work and at the end of the week Mr Whittle gave him a few bob. His face lit up as it always did when he saw Lucy. ‘Hi-ya.’

  ‘I’m going to the pictures with me dad.’ Lucy sounded very proud. ‘And he’s given me a penny for some sweets.’ She saw the shopowner waiting to serve her and gave him a broad smile. ‘Can I have a ha’porth of mint imperials and a ha’porth of jelly babies, Mr Whittle, please? And can I have them in two separate bags?’

  ‘With a smile like that, how could I refuse?’ George Whittle was in his sixties and had owned the corner shop for as long as anyone could remember. Small of stature, he had wispy white hair, kind blue eyes and a deeply lined face. He was very popular in the neighbourhood but he had his favourite customers, and two of them were in the shop now. As he weighed the sweets out, he smiled at the girl he thought had the face of an angel. ‘Let me guess. The jelly babies are for yer dad.’

  ‘No, silly! They’re for me.’ Lucy watched the coloured jelly sweets being tipped on to the scale and said wistfully, ‘The red ones are me favourites.’

  So it was, as she waved goodbye, Lucy had a bag of white mints for her father and a bag of all-red jelly babies for herself. And as she took her father’s hand she thought her happiness was complete.

  The picture was a romantic comedy, and Lucy was sighing with pleasure when they came out of the cinema. ‘I enjoyed that, Dad. Robert Young’s dead handsome, isn’t he?’

  ‘I’ve got to admit, pet, that Claudette Colbert is more my cup of tea.’

  When Lucy giggled, Bob put an arm across her shoulders. ‘How about getting a pennyworth of chips each to eat on the way home?’

  ‘No, Dad, yer’ve spent enough. Yer’ll leave yerself short of yer ciggie money.’

  ‘I’m not that daft, pet. It’s not often I take yer out so I want yer to enjoy yerself. Besides, it’s ages since I ate chips from the paper. Me mouth’s watering at the thought.’

  When they got to the chip-shop, Bob said, ‘D’yer think they’d mind if I asked them to wrap them separate? Or would they think I had a cheek?’

  ‘Shall I go in? They know me because I often come for Mrs Aggie.’ Lucy held out her hand. ‘Yer money or yer life.’

  She was still giggling when she came out of the chip-shop with two parcels wrapped in newspaper and letting off steam. ‘I asked for plenty of salt and vinegar and he doused them.’

  Bob made a hole in the paper and put in a finger and thumb. He pulled out a long chip that was so hot he had to wave it about before popping it into his mouth. With a smile on his face he sighed with bliss. ‘Just like I remember. We’ll have to do this more often.’

  ‘Next time ye’re on mornings, eh, Dad?’

  They were eating the last of the chips when they reached home. Lucy took the paper from her father and squeezed it into a ball with hers. ‘I’ll put these in the bin and then make us a nice cup of tea. We might as well finish the night in style.’

  When they were sitting facing each other across the table, talking about the film and things in general, Lucy thought what a wonderful life it would be if it was always like this. No shouting, no sarcastic remarks, no tension. There was nothing in this room tonight except love. Just like the Pollards next door.

  It was nine o’clock when Lucy took herself off to bed, and Bob sat down to read the evening paper. He smoked a couple of cigarettes and felt at peace with the world. The silence was soothing and after a while he could feel his eyelids becoming heavy. He looked up at the clock to find it was ten o’clock. Time to hit the hay, he thought, ’cos he had to be up at a quarter to five. So he lowered the gas-light and made his way upstairs. After getting undressed he climbed into bed and was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

  Bob thought he’d been asleep for hours when he felt the bed sag. His eyes blinking rapidly, he looked at the alarm clock. A quarter past eleven. He was too drowsy to wonder where his wife got to until this hour, but he was niggled that she had no consideration for him. She knew he had to be up at the crack of dawn.

  When Ruby had finished undressing and bent to turn the bedclothes back before getting into bed, the smell of drink wafted over to Bob. He tried to push it from his mind, but he couldn’t help asking himself where she got the money from. Then he thought, Oh, what the hell, forget about it. What’s the point in going over old ground again?

  He grabbed hold of the bedclothes, intending to pull them up to his nose to blot out the stench of drink, at the same time as Ruby climbed into bed. And with the movement of the clothes there came another smell. It was a body odour, but certainly wasn’t one he associated with his wife. And after sleeping with her for nearly eighteen years he should know. He couldn’t make it out. What the hell was it?

  Ruby moved nearer to the middle of the bed and the smell became stronger. And then the truth came to hit him like a blow between the eyes. He caught his breath, and the bile churning in his tummy rose to burn his throat. He knew what the smell was now. It was the smell made by two people whose bodies are joined together in lovemaking. His wife had been with a man. And he knew with a certainty he couldn’t understand, that it wasn’t the first time. Whether it was one man or ten, made no difference to him now. He would never again share a bed with her. He’d put up with everything she’d thrown at him, but not this.

  Bob got out of bed and felt for the clothes he needed for work the next morning. He put them over his arm then dragged the eiderdown off the bed and put a pillow under his arm.

  ‘What the bleedin’ hell d’yer think ye’re doing?’ Ruby asked. ‘Yer stupid bugger.’

  Bob bent over the bed and kept his voice low. ‘You slut. You dirty, cheap slut.’ With that he made his way downstairs where he threw everything on the couch before dashing out to the grid in the yard to be violently sick.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  As soon as Bob sat down in the canteen the next morning, Kate could see there was something amiss. ‘You look terrible, Bob. What on earth is wrong?’

  For the benefit of Billy, who was listening, Bob said, ‘I’ve got an upset tummy. I must have eaten something that didn’t agree with me because I’ve been up all night vomiting.’

  ‘Y
er look like death warmed up, mate,’ Billy said, not unsympathetically. ‘Yer should have taken the day off and stayed in bed.’

  ‘I would have done if I could have afforded to lose a day’s pay. But I’ll be all right, me tummy will settle down.’

  ‘What’s that I hear?’ Peg called. ‘Is Bob not well?’

  ‘He’s got a tummy upset,’ Billy told her. ‘Been up all night vomiting.’

  ‘Ooh, er, that’s terrible, that is.’ Elsie Burgess nodded her to head to emphasise how terrible it was. ‘I had it the other week, and d’yer know what?’

  Billy decided Elsie’s troubles were bound to end up in a laugh, so he turned his back on his workmate. ‘Oh, aye, Elsie, do tell.’

  This gave Bob his chance. ‘Kate, my world’s fallen apart and I’m out of me mind. Could yer spare me five minutes when the shift’s over? I need to talk to yer.’

  ‘I’ll hang around the cloakroom until all the girls have gone, then I’ll meet yer outside. You really do look dreadful, Bob.’

  ‘I feel worse than I look, believe me. I never, ever thought it would come to this – I’m at my wits’ end.’

  ‘I notice yer’ve got no carry-out.’

  ‘I couldn’t eat anything if yer paid me, Kate. The mere thought of food makes me want to be sick. I’ll explain to yer later and yer’ll understand the state I’m in.’

  ‘Okay. Ten past two outside.’

  They stood in a small side street by an end shop and Kate leaned back against the wall. ‘Go on, Bob, get it all off yer chest. I’m a good listener.’

  His head down and his voice thick, Bob briefly outlined how his life had been for the last ten years. How it had worsened over the last year to such an extent Ruby lived her own life and had no time for him or Lucy. The way she belittled him in front of his friends, came home the worse for drink and laughed at him when he asked her to try and make a go of it for their daughter’s sake.