‘You weren’t meant to tell her!’ Joe gave a hiss of rebuke, then grinned at Nell to show he was joking.
‘Oh, charming!’ laughed Nell. ‘A subtle hint that I’ve been visiting too much, was it?’
Both Joe and Nina lost no time in saying they had missed her. ‘Our Beat said she’d let you know.’
‘I haven’t seen hide nor hair of her for a couple of weeks,’ admitted Nell, as the traffic droned past along this main highway. ‘We’ve both been flat out.’
‘Well, as a matter of fact we only moved last week,’ revealed Joe. ‘Thought it was about time I got back into a place of my own. Beata offered to share the rent and, as I’d have a live-in babysitter, it seemed like a good idea.’ He saw a look of disappointment cloud Nell’s face, and hurried to assure her, ‘We’d still be glad of your help, though, when you can manage it.’
‘Will you come with us now?’ pleaded Nina.
Nell’s gloved hand reached out to stroke the sweet little face. ‘But you’re obviously on your way out …’
‘Nowt to stop you coming with us,’ invited Joe. ‘If you fancy going to see a dead whale?’
When Nell laughed, he cracked a droll smile. ‘You’ve noticed, I have this scintillating line in seduction. Some men do diamonds, others serenade, I do dead whales.’ Explaining that it was the main attraction of a travelling show on St George’s Field, which she knew to be only ten minutes away, he offered keenly, ‘You’re welcome to come along …’
‘All right, I will!’ grinned Nell, immediately turning about and moving to Nina’s left-hand side in order to take her free hand. ‘I might never have another chance to see a genuine whale.’
It turned out she was not really to see anything resembling a noble leviathan, for the object displayed on the back of the flatbed lorry seemed no more than a mountainous pile of frayed blubber, several tons of it in fact, and with a thousand gallons of embalming fluid vying with putrefaction, it reeked like nothing on earth.
Nina let go of her father’s hand in order to pinch her nose. Nell and Joe pretended to balk, each grimacing laughingly at the other as they joined the crowd that was gathered on the dank beak of land between Ouse and Foss, beside the dogs’ home and the public baths, which had become the traditional fairgound. Shielding Nina from clumsy rubber-neckers, they led her through the darkness, to study those large jars arrayed along the edge of the lorry, in which were displayed various parts of the unfortunate creature’s anatomy, including a huge tooth, baleen, and bristles from its jaws.
‘What do you reckon to pickled whale then, Neen?’ her father stooped to ask.
‘Stinks,’ she replied, through gloved fingers.
Her eyes beginning to water at the stench, Nell wheezed agreement. ‘And I dread to think what that formaldehyde’s doing to us!’ Clamping her own mouth again, she craned to see what was in the row of cages some yards away, and spoke through wool. ‘Shall we go and have a look at what’s over there instead?’
But, after working their way through the crowd to see what other delights the enterprising individual had brought with his travelling show, they were to view a series of deformed animals – a goat with an extra leg dangling from its side and suchlike – and, noticing that the little girl seemed afraid, Nell suggested to Joe that they take her into town for a milkshake instead.
Though this interlude was enjoyable, it was not to last long. Being a weekday, Nina must be up for school the next morning.
But, ‘Can Aunty Nell come and put me to bed?’ requested Joe’s daughter as they made to leave the café. ‘Then she can see our new house.’
‘Hardly new,’ smiled Joe, and told Nell, ‘It’s an old corner shop that’s been turned into a house. But it’ll do us for now – come if you like, it’s only where you bumped into us in Lawrence Street. Our Beat might not have set out for work yet, so you’ll have chance of a natter with her.’
‘And we’ve got a telly now, so we can watch Billy Bean and everything!’ enticed Nina.
Needing no further incentive than the honour of putting Nina to bed, Nell accompanied the delightful little companion and her father home.
She found it a quaint abode. A dark little vestibule preceded a front room that had obviously been the shop, but was now lacking in content, save for a rough square of carpet atop some lino, a trunk of toys and a tricycle – in essence an indoor playground for Nina. As further indication that it had been a grocer’s, there was a hatch that gave vent to the rear quarters, with the retailer’s name etched into its glass. Divested of her coat, Nell was taken straight through to Joe’s living room. This was more comfortably rugged and furnished, with a brown imitation-leather suite, a table and chairs, and a bureau. A short flight of varnished banisters intruded upon the room, the rest of the staircase hidden behind a wall and closed off by a door five steps up. There were cupboards, painted light green, to either side of the beige-tiled fireplace, and a kitchen and scullery tacked on behind.
Beata had in fact left for work, but Nell was more than happy to get the child ready for bed, standing guard outside the lavatory in the dark back yard, then taking her to the scullery for a wash, and finally to read her a book prior to bed. Having chosen to recite for her The Night Before Christmas, at the end of this Nell declared:
‘It won’t be long before Father Christmas pays us a visit – have you written yet, to tell him what you’d like?’
Nina was keen to do so, scrawling her message in crayon, then being led to the fireplace to release the note and watch it be sucked up the chimney. Then, without shenanigans, she allowed Nell to tuck her into bed.
‘She never goes down for me like that,’ said Joe, rising out of courtesy when Nell came back downstairs. ‘If Beat isn’t here to do it I always have a fight.’
‘Ah well, you have to know how to handle them.’ She gave an arch smile as she closed the door on the staircase and descended the last five steps. ‘Any more trouble, you just send for Nurse Spottiswood, she’ll come and sort you out.’
‘I’ll bear that in mind.’ Joe went to turn off the television, which he had been watching in his visitor’s absence.
‘Don’t turn it off on my account,’ bade Nell, upon noticing that a war film was about to begin. ‘I’ve got to be away now, you sit down and watch your picture.’
‘No, I was going to turn it off anyway. I never watch that kind of thing.’ Joe switched the set off. ‘Did you happen to see what she’d asked Father Christmas for?’
‘A biro,’ smiled Nell. ‘May I buy her that?’
Joe said she could. ‘I’m sure there’ll be plenty more on her list by the time he comes – can I get you something to drink?’
‘No, really, I’d better go,’ said Nell with a smile. ‘I’ve to walk across town.’
He apologised at being unable to walk her home, but, ‘I’ll pay your bus fare – there’s a stop across the road.’
Nell laughingly refused, but thanked him.
‘I’m taking our Neen to a Civil Defence demo on Bull Lane tip on Saturday, if you fancy coming along?’
‘Sorry, work again,’ said Nell.
‘When’s your next night off then?’ he asked, as he fetched her coat and held it open for her to put on.
‘Not until next Tuesday,’ replied Nell, slipping her arms into the sleeves. ‘That’s if they don’t ask me to work it. The married staff seem to get preference when it comes to time off.’ She smiled at him, expectant of an invitation to look after Nina again.
‘Well, I think our Beat’s on holiday next week.’ He knew very well she was, for he had already asked her. ‘If she’ll look after the bairn, would you come and keep me company at the pictures? That’s if you’ve nothing better to do, of course. I don’t get out much, and when I do I have to go on my own. It gets a bit boring just sitting in a pub.’
‘Of course I would,’ came her kind reply. ‘Though if you’d rather go with your sister, I could look after –’
‘Don’t you think I see
enough of our Beat?’ demanded Joe, then chuckled. ‘Good job she isn’t here and can’t hear me – she’d clip my ear’ole! No, I just thought it’d be a break for you as well, if you don’t get out much …’
‘Oh, well, if you’re sure, it’d be lovely.’ Nell buttoned her coat. ‘Can I come and meet you here? I don’t want to leave you standing outside the cinema if I can’t manage to get away.’
Joe gave a happy shrug. ‘I don’t feel very chivalrous, you having to come and pick me up, instead of the other way round, but if you think it’s best …’
And Nell did consider it best, because that way she would get to see Nina into the bargain.
Luckily, she was able to get away the following week, and a very pleasant night out it turned out to be too, the easygoing Joe allowing her to choose what picture they would see, and Nell receiving a goodnight cuddle from Nina before she left.
It was also to mark the beginning of a new phase, of Nell calling in at the house in Lawrence Street any time she felt like it, sometimes lucky enough to be allowed exclusive access to Nina, sometimes having to share her with Joe or Beata. By now, she had come to regard Joe as much of a pal as she did his sister, and this was obviously reciprocated, for he had lately given her a spare key, so that she would never find herself locked out after trailing so far to see them. Evidently, he had realised that her offers to collect Nina from school when he was working were not made out of charity, but because Nell genuinely enjoyed doing so, and he had stopped regarding her as a benefactor, and more as another sister.
It was all extremely endearing, the only trouble being that, working permanent nights, one’s body clock was not in tune with that of normal folk, making it very difficult to socialise. Her days off were irregular, and often she would find herself having to use a greater part of this time to catch up on sleep. Hence, there were all sorts of things she was forced to miss. She had promised to take Nina to see Santa at a store in town, and had moved heaven and earth to fulfil this, but, due to work, the invitation to Christmas dinner with Joe and Beata had perforce been refused, the New Year also passing without ceremony.
Making her way home through a thick blanket of fog, mixed with smoke from factory chimneys on yet another dark winter’s morning, Nell made the sudden decision that she was tired of living like a bat, and regardless of whether Sister Pike was difficult to work with or not, she would arrange to be included on the day rota. This might not allow her to see any more of Nina, but she could at least coordinate her movements with that of normal folk, so that when opportunities did arise there was more chance of her being able to respond to them.
For today, though, it was the usual routine, and once she got home she was soon in bed. But at least tomorrow was her night off. That being so, she had pre-arranged to collect Nina from school later on in the day. Drifting towards sleep, she smiled now as she looked forward to their meeting.
Upon answering her alarm, Nell had some buttered toast and tea, got washed and dressed, then caught a bus across the city to Nina’s school.
As ever, the little girl showed delight as she ran from the playground to meet Nell, and, after giving her a kiss, skipped all the way home ahead of her – not that there was far to go, just a stretch of narrow lane between an ancient graveyard and a row of prefabs before they crossed the main road to Joe’s house.
First attending the banked-up fire and bringing it to life, Nell then gave Nina a drink of lemonade and switched on the television for her, finally tearing herself away to make a start on cooking Joe’s tea, as she had lately taken to doing. It was the least she could do to repay the trust he had invested, allowing her such free access to his daughter.
But before she had taken the meat from the pantry, a little voice moaned: ‘Aw! Not bloody Andy Pandy …’
‘Oy! You’re not supposed to say words like that!’ Nell sounded stern, but could not help covering a smile as a dejected Nina trailed in to join her.
‘I hate him,’ she grumbled, both hands gripping the edge of the worktop and standing on tiptoe to see what Nell was doing. ‘He’s got a twisted gob.’
‘Poor thing! He can’t help looking the way he does.’ Then Nell’s face turned mischievous to confide, ‘But I can’t stand him either, he should be called Namby-Pamby.’ After undergoing a few moments chatter about which children’s programme was best, Nell said, ‘I’d better turn the television off then, and save on electric. Come on, you can help me make tea.’ And, rather more slowly than she had anti cipated, with the constant interruptions of her small helper, she managed to prepare a casserole.
Once it was simmering in the oven, she had time to relax, informing Nina as she cleared away the peelings, ‘I’ve brought some old ration books for you to play with. They’re in my handbag. You can go and get them if you like, and we’ll play shops for a while.’
Upon joining Nina some moments later, Nell was instructed to open the hatch window between the two rooms. Then, ‘You go round into t’front room!’ ordered Nina, clambering onto the arm of an easy chair, and waiting for the other to do so.
As Nell approached the hatch from the other side, the small grocer took one of the redundant ration books from a pile, licked her pencil and enquired: ‘What can I get for you this morning, Mrs – what’s your last name?’
‘Spottiswood.’
‘Mrs Spottiswood.’ Leaning on her counter, Nina opened the ration book and licked her pencil again, about to write.
‘Don’t do that,’ warned Nell. ‘You’ll get lead poisoning.’
‘Doesn’t matter. You’re a nurse, you can make it better.’
‘I’m glad you have such faith in me.’ Nell arched her brow and smiled, and, for a time, pretended to be the customer. Then she noted that one of the ration books was the wrong colour. ‘Hang on! You didn’t get that from my bag …’ She frowned and reached for the one that Nina was about to write in.
‘No, I got it from up there.’ A finger was pointed at a shelf.
‘Good heavens, Neen, it’s your daddy’s meat ration book!’ Drawing in her breath, Nell quickly examined it for signs of damage. ‘We mustn’t deface that or you’ll have nothing for next week’s dinner.’
Taking this as castigation, Nina said, ‘I’m fed-up of this game. Shall we play summat else?’
‘You’re easily bored, aren’t you? Let’s see …’ said Nell, then went to look through cupboards and drawers, forgetting for a moment that she did not actually live there, and behaving as she would in her own home – which was why she was pulled up so sharply by what came next.
In her search for a game, she came across a tin holding buttons, needles, other odds and ends, and a wooden darning mushroom that was obviously a souvenir, for it was emblazoned with the crest of some German town. This had been Grette’s sewing box. There came a pang – as if someone had stabbed her in the breast – not of shame for snooping amongst another woman’s belongings, but of jealousy that she had not been the one to give birth to this child she so adored.
‘What we gonna do?’
Glancing at Nina, she underwent a moment of poignancy, and also guilt, that she was pretending to lay claim to her, when somewhere out there was the son she had given away. William would be thirteen soon, and on the way to being a man. Had he been in the room now, there would have been no contest as to which child she would pick. But this one was here, not just a memory, and looking up at her in expectation of something to play with. Who would have foreseen that Nell would play mother to a German’s child?
Gazing back into those blue eyes, and overcome with love for Nell, she broke into a smile, and shook such thoughts from her head.
‘I’m going to teach you how to do French knitting!’ Finding an empty cotton reel, she went to the shed and collected four panel pins, which she hammered on the top of the reel around the hole in its centre. A short stub of broken knitting needle made the ideal tool. ‘Right, Neen, this is what you do …’ She revelled in the hot sweet breath against her ear, as the chil
d draped herself over a shoulder to watch, and to copy.
But soon, the growl of a motorcycle alerted them both. ‘Ooh, look out!’ warned Nell. ‘It’s Billy Bean and his funny machine. I hope he won’t tell me off for using his hammer and nails.’
‘He won’t,’ replied Nina with a smile of surety. ‘He likes you.’ Then a thought struck her as she ran from the sitting room to open the back door. ‘Do you like him? ’Cause if you do, you could get married instead of being all on your own.’
Joe entered the kitchen to see Nell looking flustered.
‘I was just asking Aunty Nell if she wants to marry you,’ Nina informed her father, dragging at his leg in greeting.
There was embarrassed laughter all round. ‘Bloomin’ hangment, an ancient codger like me?’ guffawed Joe, his cheeks all pink from the cold as he took off his gauntlets and raked his silvery hair. ‘I’m old enough to be Aunty Nell’s father!’
‘You’re not that old,’ soothed Nell, trying to make herself look busy by lifting the casserole from the oven, then setting out warm plates. ‘At least, you don’t look it.’
Joe affected to swank. ‘Well, 1907 was a decent vintage.’ He scooped a handful of toffees from his pocket and dropped them on the sideboard. ‘For after tea.’
‘Look!’ His daughter showed him the short length of French knitting she had created. ‘Aunty Nell taught me how to do it.’
‘Did she? By, she’s a clever woman – you’re doing a good job and all! Right, let me blow me nose, it’s streaming.’ After a quick ruffle of her hair, he tugged out a handkerchief, trumpeted into it, then took off his motorcycle jacket and travelled through the sitting room to hang it up in the lobby.
‘Fetch your daddy his slippers,’ suggested Nell whilst he was absent. ‘Then you can help me lay the table.’ Nina scurried to comply.
Joe came back to sit down and change his footwear, sounding most appreciative as he called out to Nell, who was still in the kitchen, ‘That smells grand, whatever it is.’
An Unsuitable Mother Page 33