‘What a bunch of clowns – all brocade and brothel creepers.’
Pulled from her reverie by Joe’s amused observation, and unable to tell him what she had really been thinking, she could only chuckle agreement, that their son would never be allowed such eccentricity – when they were lucky enough to have one.
‘Well, I’m doing me best on that score,’ teased Joe with a wicked glint in his eye. ‘So get your job done, woman, and gimme that lad!’ But he made sure Nell knew he was only joking, as, with a kindly grin, he stepped forth to lift their little girl from the donkey.
If Joe had hoped the holiday would help in that quarter, this was not to be. Another year turned – was almost through – and still there were just the three of them. As a matter of fact, there had been an addition to the family, but this was inanimate. More inanimate than Joe had anticipated when making his purchase.
‘Thank you, bloody Nasser!’ he declared, upon news that petrol would have to be rationed due to the hostilities in Suez. ‘I just get me van and now I can’t drive it!’
An authority on the news, being always transfixed to the television, Nina asked if there was to be another war, but Nell was quick to stave her worry. Still, Joe muttered under his breath, ‘Bloody Yanks, putting the stranglers on us …’
‘Are Yanks the same as Russians?’ For many evenings, Nina had watched the Hungarian uprising on the screen, seen the terrible things done, and heard her father’s comments on the matter. To curry favour, she said proudly, ‘Do you know what I wrote in my notebook at school today? “All Russians are pigs.”’
Joe’s head did swivel then, to gasp along with his wife, ‘Ooh, you can’t say things like that – it’ll get you shot! Has your teacher seen it?’ Flattened by such a reception, Nina hung her head and replied in the negative. ‘Then make sure you rub it out,’ ordered her father with a shake of his head. ‘Good heavens, what are we rearing …’
And at that, feeling pity, Nell drew Nina onto her lap and kissed her. ‘I’d leave all the fighting talk to the men, Neen,’ she advised.
Whilst the dream of a male child was not to come to fruition that year, lesser dreams were. For, one Saturday morning shortly before Christmas, Beata pulled up outside their window in a shiny black Austin. Her response to their cheers of congratulation was the chuckling admission that she had still not passed her test, but was taking advantage of the Suez crisis that allowed learners to drive unaccompanied.
‘You must be the only one to be better off!’ claimed Joe, acting aggrieved.
‘Well, I do essential work, you see,’ grinned Beata. ‘Not like you, just making goodies.’
‘Oh, get the sherry out, Joe!’ His wife prevented more jousting, and drew her sister-in-law in to be seated amongst paper chains and a fragrant Christmas tree, upon which Nina was in the process of dangling a plaster image of Field Marshal Montgomery, and other homemade decorations.
Beata interrupted her. ‘I hope you’ve totted up my diddlum money, missus. I want to do my Christmas shopping.’
Nina balked at having to surrender the tinful of silver she had been banking for others. But she dragged herself off to fetch the notebook ledger, and to tot up the amount owed. Only slightly appeased by the half-crown that was handed back as dividend, she tested it with her teeth.
Joe had been handing round his cigarettes, and whilst they smoked and drank sherry, Beata discussed her acquisition ‘You should have heard the porter when I drew up for work. “Look at the night nurse in her posh car, when the night sister has to pedal to work on her bike!” I said, aye, but the night nurse doesn’t squander her money on fags and booze –’
‘No, she just comes and bloody pinches ours!’ scoffed Joe.
Beat gave her chesty chuckle, warning, ‘Shurrup, or you won’t get this letter I’ve brought you.’ Saying she had fetched it from Gussie’s, she handed over the envelope.
Joe put down his glass to open it, having to hold the sheet of paper at arm’s length.
‘He’s going to have extensions to his arms if his eyes get any worse,’ ribbed Nell.
‘You wait!’ retorted Joe. ‘I shall remind you of your mockery in ten or fifteen years’ time.’ But, with spectacles allowing him to focus, his tartness was quickly replaced with a delighted beam. ‘It’s from the council – they’ve reserved a brand-new house for us and it’ll be ready in the new year!’
Thrilled to bits over the letter, Joe had been spurred into dashing out for some last-minute purchases, returning to give Nell a private showing of the magnificent six-shooter he had bought for Nina. ‘Not only that! The holster, and the hat.’ With boastful expression, he demonstrated his prowess with the miniature firearm.
Nell remained amused. ‘I hate to question its suitability for a little girl …’
‘It’s what she asked for!’ retorted the father with a laugh.
And, when Christmas Day came, Nina was, as he predicted, cock-a-hoop over the gun and accoutrements, though she was equally thrilled by the books her mother had bought for her too. For Nell there was a lovely little garnet and pearl ring from Joe. She, knowing how he liked to look smart, had bought him a pullover, shirt and tie, in which he dressed for dinner. However, Nina was to provide the surprise of the day, by bestowing her stepmother with a glass ashtray, this taking much of the proceedings from her diddlum.
Nell was immensely touched – rather guilty at receiving it too, for Nina had given Joe only a bag of liquorice. Still, he didn’t appear to mind at all, with stacks of roast chicken, Christmas pudding, drink and cigarettes to pacify him. Plus the big get-together at Gussie’s later, for another slap-up meal. In all it was a lovely festive interval.
And even if they were still without the son that would make this family complete, by February, when it came time to move into their new abode, both agreed that there was plenty to do at the moment without having a baby to look after.
After parsimonious use due to the petrol crisis, Joe’s van was finally to come into its own, with so many belongings to be transferred from the east side of town to its southern limits. Approximately three miles from where they had abided, this residence would be even further removed in style from their antiquated dwelling – on a council estate, maybe, but situated in one of the modern suburbs that had been hailed as the Mayfair of York. Being not far from Knavesmire racecourse, this was a much greener enclave, with no industry in sight. All right, they had just crossed a railway bridge, over which bulged a cloud of smoke as a train passed beneath, but as far as Nell could see, this was the only source of noise or dirt. Soon they were turning away from it, with Nina kneeling up in the back and peering out between their shoulders, eager to be first to spot the name of their avenue.
Steering past those houses still under construction, Joe finally pulled up outside their own at the end of a block of four, this particular quartet being set back from the street, and thus granting them a long front garden – full of weeds at the moment. Although a kerb had been installed, as yet there was only a bed of cinders along which to crunch their way to the gate. After a quick recap of the exterior, they entered to be met by a smell of newness. Off a narrow hallway, the living room had a window at each end, and combined both sitting and dining area. The kitchen was small, though it did have a pantry and plenty of cupboards. Upstairs were two good-sized bedrooms. Joe had really wanted three, but the council had been prepared to grant only as many rooms as his present family required. Still, it was of little consequence at present with such an agreeable situation as this. Although, looking from the back bedroom window, they were alerted that the railway line ran only a hundred feet away.
‘I’m sure we’ll get used to that,’ smiled Nell, as a steam express clattered by the thicket of brambles, vibrating the house and the people within.
Joe pointed out that because their house preceded a corner it had an extra triangular plot of garden on the side, more than enough on which to grow produce. He was even more enthralled with the bathroom. ‘No more ch
amber music in the night – thank you, Lord!’
Whilst awaiting the removal men, who were bringing the larger items, they discovered an attached outhouse containing a gas boiler to do their washing, the other half of it providing an open porch. All were thrilled with their new home – though agreed the huge garden was daunting, for, apart from a bright patch of celandines, it was choked with weeds and briars.
Joe surveyed the jungle that came over Nina’s head, and proclaimed it fortunate that he had added a few days’ leave onto the weekend in order to attack it. ‘And here’s me relieved I never got sent to Malaya. God knows what we’ll find in there. Could be the Mau Mau, the lost treasures of the Incas, or any bloomin’ thing.’
At the mention of treasure, Nina immediately began to forage, whilst her smiling parents rolled up their sleeves and left her to play. But with the house newly painted, both inside and out, in a pleasant mushroom colour, all that was required was to swab a few stray blobs of cement and builders’ dust from the dark brown floor tiles, and polish the windows, before erecting the new living-room curtains Nell had brought with her. By which time the removal van had begun to install the furniture.
By early afternoon, with everything in situ, Nell provided lunch, a happy Joe plonking heavily onto one end of their new red studio couch – and promptly launching Nina into the air.
‘Flaming hangment!’ After checking she was unhurt, he picked her up from the floor and reseated her beside him with an affectionate rub and a chuckle. ‘I think I’ve bought a trampoline instead of a couch!’ Nell laughingly agreed as, settling himself more gingerly, he partook of a sandwich. ‘Have you found any gold yet, Neen?’ At her shake of head, he promised, ‘I’ll try to get the scythe on it before I go back to work.’ He had bought one for this purpose.
Keen to get her hands on that big curved blade, Nina volunteered, but her assistance was to go only so far as to hack herself a tunnel to the far corner of the wilderness. Once a campsite had been cleared, she remained there, only the twitching movement of the vegetation showing her parents she was still around.
The densely rooted couch grass and ground elder took strenuous effort, and once Joe had returned to work, and with Nina playing in her camp – the school being on half-term holiday – it was Nell who was left to dig and turn the earth during the week, in between washing and shopping and cooking. But she appeared to thrive on it, Joe noticed, for there was always a smile on her face when he came in, making him feel welcome, and appreciated, just as he felt about her.
With another week at the factory behind him, Joe gave a sigh of happiness as he flopped into his armchair after tea and looked around at their collection of ornaments, particularly the frames on the sideboard: containing one of his father, a beefy-looking man wearing a waxed moustache and the uniform of a regimental sergeant-major; his mother, all gentle and pretty with angelic eyes; and a group shot of himself with his army pals. ‘I know I keep saying it, but isn’t it grand to think we’re the first people ever to have lived in this house? We don’t have to put up with any old battle scars on the woodwork, nor six layers of paper to scrape off. Nobody else’s memories in the walls …’
Their child seated on the fireside mat, playing with the zip of her blue corduroy windcheater and listening to her parents’ conversation, Nell smiled down at her as she handed out bars of chocolate, and agreed, ‘There’s enough to be done in the garden. I’ve been on the front all day.’
Joe shared a joke with his daughter. ‘Your mam makes it sound like a battlefield.’
‘Well that’s what it felt like!’ chuckled Nell, inspecting her blisters.
‘You won’t spoil my camp, will you?’ Over the week, suitably dressed against the cold, Nina had carried extra bits and pieces to the clearing amongst the brambles.
‘You don’t think I’ll get that far, do you?’ laughed Nell. ‘It’ll take years. A pity there’s no one to play in it with you yet.’ Although the few neighbours they had met were very pleasant, none of them had children Nina’s age. ‘That’s why it’ll be good to start your new school on Monday – you might make friends with someone who lives nearby.’
‘Don’t go skiving off just yet, though,’ said Dad. ‘There’s plenty of gardening to be done.’
But it was he and Nell who were to undertake most of the digging, and by Saturday night they were completely worn out. Therefore, Sunday brought a leisurely sleep in, and a marital cuddle, before they rose to devour bacon and eggs. Church was a thing of the past for both, though rather more of a departure for Joe, he coming from a devout family of Catholics. But, somewhere over the years, what with all the widowhood and other upheaval, only Gussie retained her piety. Joe had not attended Mass since boyhood, and was more devoted to his fried breakfast, the grease dripping down his chin as he wiped out a decade of austerity.
A mischievous Nell offered him the pan, laughing when he accepted the last dregs of fat, and loving it that he appreciated her attempts to make a good home for him. Once the pots were cleared, she joined her husband in reading the newspapers for a while, though soon had the Sunday lunch to prepare.
After which, Joe said to his bored little girl, ‘Tell you what, I might give gardening a miss this afternoon and treat us to an hour’s fishing at that pond across yonder.’ Beyond their wild garden lay an even wilder stretch of land. Thereafter, he and his daughter climbed over the fence and went off, looking for all the world, thought Nell, like father and son.
By Monday the fun was over. With her first morning at her new school being so daunting, Nina’s mother accompanied her on the school bus, to guard her as best she could from the jostling crowd of other youngsters who piled on board.
The parting such a wrench, Nell went off to town to take her mind off it. It was whilst she was at the toy counter in Woolworth’s, selecting threepenny cowboys on horseback, that a voice exclaimed: ‘Eleanor! Where on earth have you been hiding?’
Nell blushed deeply. Whenever spotting any relative, she had gone out of her way to avoid them – but the years had made her careless, and now here stood Aunty Phyllis and Uncle Cliff. How could she explain to these kindest of people, who would never understand her reasoning?
In the event it was Aunty Phyllis who spoke again. ‘We’ve been searching for you high and low!’
‘Well, here I am!’ Nell gave a lame laugh. ‘How good to see you both.’
‘You too, love,’ nodded a reserved Uncle Cliff, much greyer than at their last meeting.
‘But why didn’t you give us your new address when you moved on?’ demanded his wife, cornering Nell, who was attempting to slip away. ‘We sent letter after letter to Walmgate, till back they finally came, with “unable to deliver” on.’
Nell fabricated confusion. ‘I could have sworn I informed everyone – I do apologise, I was always so busy at work, time seems to go so quickly.’
‘But it’s fifteen years since we’ve seen you!’
‘Is that really how long it is?’ Nell pretended to be flabbergasted – and it was as she raised a hand to her mouth that Aunty Phyllis noticed the wedding ring.
‘You’re married!’
The blush, which had just begun to fade, resumed its glow. ‘Oh, yes – it was a very quiet affair! Just myself and Joe really. It’s his second marriage – he has a little girl – and he didn’t want any fuss.’
But her aunt was deeply offended, and her voice cool. ‘Still, it would have been nice to be informed. If you knew the trouble your uncle has gone to in looking for you. Didn’t you see all the notices in the press?’
‘No, I’m afraid not – miss!’ To escape those looks of accusation, Nell quickly hailed the shop girl at the other end of the counter, and, cheeks blazing, made her purchase. But once the brown paper bag was in her hand, she was compelled to face them and explain. ‘I’m really sorry, I did intend to write, but I moved to several different places in quick succession, and the longer I left it, the more difficult it became …’
‘Anyway,
you’re here now,’ said Uncle Cliff, bringing the condemnation to a halt with a kind smile, though his wife remained hurt. ‘The reason we’ve been trying to contact you was about your father’s estate.’ He saw Nell’s demeanour take a plunge, and asked, ‘Why don’t you come home with us, and we’ll talk in private?’
His niece looked wrenched, glancing at Aunty Phyllis as she said, ‘I have to be home to meet my daughter from school …’
‘Never mind then.’ Cliff’s tone displayed understanding. ‘Let me just give you the gist. I think I probably told you before that our Wilf left most of it to your mother, because of course he wasn’t expecting her to go at the same time as him.’ Gauging Nell’s pain, he moved on quickly. ‘As executor, I thought it best to put the house up for sale, once it had been rebuilt. We didn’t think you’d want to live there – I hope we did the right thing?’
Her hand gripping the paper bag of cowboys, every muscle tensed, Nell assured him with a firm nod.
‘We’ve done something right then,’ sniped Aunt Phyllis.
Uncle Cliff went on, ‘The money’s been sitting in the bank for the past ten years or so – since just after the war, anyway, so it’ll have accured a good bit of interest – don’t expect thousands,’ he hastened to tell her, ‘once the mortgage was paid off – and the solicitor and other fees – it took quite a hefty chunk –’
‘I wasn’t expecting anything at all,’ said Nell quickly.
‘– I just don’t want you to think we’ve fleeced you.’
‘Uncle Cliff, I wouldn’t dream of it! If it hadn’t been for you and Aunt Phyl it would still be a pile of rubble. I told you all those years ago, I don’t want anything. You should keep it for all your hard work and inconvenience.’
Cliff was startled. ‘Eleanor, it’s over eight hundred pounds! If this has something to do with you being adopted, then I can tell you right now that your parents looked upon you as their real child.’
An Unsuitable Mother Page 37