Hidden Currents

by Rowena Summers

  And then they told her their own news. Ma looked suitably pleased, though she was becoming so short of breath and irritated by the constant stitch in her side, that she only spoke in brief sentences. It was just to save her having to breathe too deeply, she told them.

  ‘You’ll need to speak to Pa. See what he says to it, I mean,’ she said.

  ‘Pa won’t object, Ma, because I’ll be eighteen at the end of June, and we’re not rushing into anything,’ Carrie said, hardly able to believe they were actually having this conversation. Discussing her wedding, no less … the dazzling prospect almost made her overlook the way Ma moved so slowly about the house now, as if every step was an effort.

  ‘Ma, could we invite John and his uncle here for Christmas Day?’ she asked on an impulse. ‘It would be such a good time for us all to meet, and the extra work would be no problem for me, especially with Elsie to help. I wouldn’t want you to do a single thing, mind, except put your feet up and let us young ‘uns get on with it all. Billy could help, and I bet John would too, as well as our Wilf.’

  She hadn’t discussed this with John first, and she knew she should have done. Nor did she know how he and Wilf might get on under the same roof for this big day of the year, especially if Elsie began her silly flirting. She really should curb this talking before she thought … But John’s reaction was instant.

  ‘That’s a fine idea, Carrie, and if your mother won’t think I’m taking a liberty, my uncle and I would be pleased to contribute our own Christmas fare to the party.’

  ‘Pa won’t take kindly to it,’ Ma warned at once.

  ‘You let me deal with that, Mrs Stuckey,’ John said forcefully. ‘I’ll see him down on the waterfront this evening and get it settled. I’ll be tactful, I promise.’

  He was being tactful now, since Carrie knew very well he was referring to the waterfront inn, where her Pa was such a regular these days. But Ma nodded, too done-in to get into a long discussion about it. Carrie felt real alarm, seeing how much Ma had aged in recent weeks, and she prayed that the babby would come on time, for Ma had clearly almost had enough of the carrying by now.

  ‘Can I walk down the waterfront with you, John?’ Billy said hopefully.

  ‘All of you go,’ Ma huffed. ‘I’ll rest while you’ve gone. Go on now. You weary me with your talk.’

  It was obviously what she wanted, and it gave Carrie a chance to pump Billy over her mother’s health.

  ‘Is she always like this, Billy?’ she demanded to know, the minute they were outside the house and striking down the hill.

  ‘Like what?’ he said.

  ‘Like — is Ma always so tired, ninny? She hardly seemed able to drag herself around the house today.’

  Billy gave the uncaring shrug of an eight-year-old.

  ‘I dunno. Ma’s just Ma. She don’t say much about herself. But she boxes my ears more’n she used to,’ he added as an afterthought.

  Carrie glanced at John. ‘Sometimes I wonder if it was such a good idea for me to be working at the Barclay house,’ she muttered. ‘Ma’s still doing bits of washing and ironing at home, and there’s not so much need with me and our Wilf earning money now. But if I was still home, I could see that she got proper rest and didn’t tire herself out.’

  ‘You can’t live her life for her, sweetheart,’ John said reasonably. ‘And nor can your family be dependent on you for ever. When we’re married —’

  She stopped walking so suddenly that Billy cannoned into her with a howl of rage. She was too full of anxiety about her mother to see his words as anything but censure.

  ‘When we’re married, my family will still be my family, and if I feel the need to help them, then I will,’ she snapped. ‘Being married to you don’t mean I’m going to be shackled every single second, John Travis!’

  ‘For God’s sake, I never thought it was! I was only offering suggestions, so come down off your high horse. Bloody hell, I might fight with my fists, but you have the edge on me when it comes to words!’

  She glared at him. ‘And you don’t intend to give any of that up when we’re married, of course.’

  ‘Did you think I would? It pays well, and I’d be a fool not to make use of my skills.’

  She didn’t miss the arrogance in his voice, or the implication. A man with any pride at all didn’t give up his pastimes for a woman. But she had always thought that to be working-class mentality, and that John was a cut above that.

  ‘I’m not sure I want to live my life wondering if my husband will come home with his head knocked about until he’s half senseless.’

  ‘That’s something you’ll have to think about then, isn’t it?’ John said distantly.

  They strode on down the waterfront, together and yet not together, with Billy trailing along behind. They were in danger of forgetting their real purpose, Carrie thought, which was to alert Pa tactfully that the Travis men were invited for Christmas Day. It all seemed farcical now.

  * * *

  They found him in the midst of a crowd of gamblers playing shove ha’penny in one of the smoky taverns. Carrie recognised his triumphant shout as he picked up his meagre winnings even before she saw him. Sam Stuckey had a fine pair of lungs on him when he chose to use them. He saw the trio coming towards him, and his eyes narrowed at once as he pushed his way through the loungers in the tap-room.

  ‘What’s all this then? Has your Ma taken a turn for the worse?’ he said at once.

  It was on the tip of Carrie’s tongue to say he’d do better to stay at home and help her than to play pointless games with the waterfront riff-raff, but she knew it would only aggravate him if she did so. He was already swaying slightly on his feet, even in the middle of the afternoon. He was unshaven too, and Carrie felt a stab of sorrow for the fine figure of a man he’d been not so long ago when he was in work and more than just the nominal head of his family.

  ‘Ma’s no more weary than usual, I daresay,’ she said pointedly. ‘Though she don’t look at all well, Pa.’

  ‘The doctor says that once the babby’s here, she’ll get her strength back, so I suppose he knows what he’s talking about.’ Sarcastically, he passed the responsibility back to the doctor with the ease of a man who chose not to see trouble until it was pushed under his nose.

  He sat down heavily on one of the wooden settles by the window, and the other three did the same. Sam called for more ale for himself, but didn’t offer to buy one for John, Carrie thought indignantly. He never used to be so uncouth, before his mind became twisted with resentment at being thrown on the scrap heap as he called it, while others seemed to prosper.

  ‘We want to talk to you about Christmas Day, Mr Stuckey,’ John said.

  Sam’s eyes widened mockingly. ‘Is that so? What’s up with it, then? Are they thinking of moving it? Has Jesus decided he’d rather have His birthday in the summer or summat? It’s too cold for they skimpy robes, mebbe.’

  ‘Pa! That’s blasphemous talk!’ Carrie said appalled, not missing the sniggers going on all around them at Sam Stuckey’s heavy-handed humour.

  ‘What’s there to talk about then?’ Sam’s mood quickly changed. ‘Christmas Day’s just another day this year. We ain’t got money to splash about like your fancy rich folk, miss!’

  Carrie’s heart thumped sickeningly. Pa was in a foul mood, and they shouldn’t have come here to find him. She was ashamed of hearing such talk in front of John too.

  ‘Mr Stuckey, hear me out, please,’ she heard John say. ‘Carrie and I have decided to be married on her eighteenth birthday —’

  It was clear that Sam couldn’t immediately take in the connection of a wedding at the end of the following June, and the imminence of Christmas Day. His eyes went blank and he belched noisily. Then he let out a stream of abuse.

  ‘You mean to tell me you’ve interuppted my game to tell me summat I don’t care to know, man? You’ll marry my daughter when I give my say-so, and not before! And what the bloody hell has Christmas Day got to do with it, anyw
ay?’

  ‘Pa, stop it!’ Carrie leapt to her feet, her palms flat on the table in front of them. ‘If I choose to marry John on my eighteenth birthday, you can’t stop me. And since Ma looks so poorly, I’m taking over the cooking on Christmas Day. The Barclays are giving us a goose, so we won’t starve. Elsie’s coming to help, and I’ve invited John and his uncle for the day, and Ma’s agreed to it. That’s what we’ve come to tell you, and to get your approval.’

  She was breathing so fast by the time she finished that she thought she was going to explode. It had all gone wrong, of course. John was supposed to be saying all this in a tactful manner, and instead of that, she had burst out with everything in one fell swoop. But perhaps she knew her Pa better than he did. Perhaps it was better to bombard him with everything at once, rather than tip-toeing all around him.

  She heard his fist bang on the table in a fury as he lurched to his feet to lean towards her. His eyes glared redly into hers, and she almost reeled from the strong smell of drink on his breath.

  ‘Well, that’s that then. My say-so don’t matter a damn in nothing no more, by all accounts. All right!’ He waved his arms about him in the melodramatic way of the very drunk. ‘Bring your sluttish friend and your fancy man and his whole bloody family if you like. Fill the bloody house with strangers, but just don’t expect me to speak to ’em, that’s all. Now let me get back to me game before me luck runs cold.’

  He pushed past them and rejoined his mates. Carrie could have wept with shame and fury, and even Billy stayed silent, too afraid of his Pa’s wrath to ask him for a copper or two for a pie.

  ‘Let’s get out of here,’ John said.

  The atmosphere was so thick with smoke, ale and body odours that it was a relief to be outside and to breathe in great gulps of the cold December air. The worst of the river whiffs were muted at this time of year, and they turned quickly back towards the city.

  ‘I’m sorry, John,’ Carrie muttered. ‘I know I did it all wrong, but at least he’s agreed. He won’t forget, or go back on his word about Christmas Day. You’ll all be —’

  She nearly said ‘welcome’, but she knew none of the outsiders would be really welcome. They’d be tolerated because the Stuckey womenfolk had somehow manoeuvred it that way. It didn’t bode well for the festive occasion.

  Chapter 15

  Wilf walked home with a jaunty step. With a week to go before Christmas, he’d managed to do some legitimate overtime on the railway, so he had a bit of extra money jingling in his pockets. He was glad. He’d never liked deceiving his family on the overtime lark. He’d told them about working on the doll’s house for the foreman’s daughter, but nobody knew about the other bit of extra work — about the exquisite little replica of the Woolley house that he’d been making for Nora.

  Wilf was pleased with the result. He knew Nora would be thrilled with it, and didn’t dare give too much thought as to how she would explain its presence to her parents. Though he doubted that Gaffer Woolley would ever see it, since Nora would undoubtedly keep it in her bedroom. He already knew that Gaffer was so strict with his daughter that her mother compensated for it by being extra soft, so he just prayed that Mrs Woolley wouldn’t give the game away.

  He’d be seeing Nora tomorrow evening, and that was the last chance he would get before Christmas. The Woolleys were entertaining guests for a week, and returning to London with them for the New Year celebrations. It would be a long lonely fortnight without seeing her, but there was nothing to be done about it. It also meant that tomorrow morning he had to sneak Ma’s bread bin out of the house, so he could place the little wooden house carefully inside it to protect it, and take it from the railway works into the city.

  He was rubbing his hands thankfully by the time he went inside the house on Jacob’s Wells Road that evening. The nights were frosty now, with the temperature dropping fast, and some said there would be snow by Christmas. He hoped not. Clearing the stuff off the rails would be a thankless and freezing task.

  His thoughts stopped abruptly when he heard the uproar going on inside. Pa was obviously in one of his moods. Young Billy was sitting halfway up the stairs well out of the way of any cuffing, but near enough to eavesdrop.

  ‘What’s to do then?’ he said, to nobody in particular. Ma was sitting tight-lipped with her hands protectively over the huge lump of the babby, and Pa was red-faced and ranting. There was a sound of rattling crockery from the scullery, so he assumed Carrie must be there.

  ‘Only those two, that’s all!’ Pa bellowed. ‘Scheming behind my back the way women do, and filling the bloody house with strangers, as if we ain’t got enough with our own.’

  At that moment Elsie Miller came through from the scullery with a tray of tea and egg-toasts in her hands. She dumped it down on the parlour table and stood with hands on hips, glaring at Sam Stuckey.

  ‘If you’re including me in all that, Mr Stuckey, then I might as well go right now.’

  ‘Sam’s not including you, Elsie,’ Ma said quickly. ‘You know you’re welcome here, and I’m grateful for your help. It was good of you to call in on your way home from work and get the meal ready for me, duck.’

  ‘No, I ain’t including you in my grumblings, girl,’ Pa managed to say with a mite of graciousness. ‘’Tis t’other lot. Strangers, who’ll expect to be entertained and want to see me done up like a dog’s dinner on me one day of rest.’

  Ma’s hoot of laughter at that showed a spark of her old spirit.

  ‘Your whole life is one long day of rest nowadays, Sam Stuckey, so don’t go chafing at having to act a bit more like a gentleman for once. Anyway, it’ll please our Carrie, and I’ve agreed, so there’s an end to it.’

  ‘Is somebody going to tell me what you’re all going on about, or am I supposed to play guessing games?’ Wilf said.

  It didn’t please him too much to see Elsie Miller so firmly ensconced in the house, even if it was only temporary. If she’d helped Ma get the meal, then that was something in her favour. But he didn’t like the girl, and never would, especially those great flirtatious eyes of hers that seemed to almost strip a man down to his underpinnings. Such frankness of manner didn’t go well with Wilf. To him, Nora’s refinement was far more alluring than all Elsie’s flouncings and poutings.

  ‘Your Ma’s intending to fill the house on Christmas Day,’ Sam began again.

  ‘Will you stop it, Sam?’ Ma snapped. ‘The house will not be filled. It will be a large happy gathering, I hope and pray, and you’re not to spoil everything for Carrie and her young man.’

  Wilf’s indulgent smile vanished as he stared at his mother. ‘You’re not saying the Travis fellow is coming here for Christmas Day?’

  ‘And his uncle, and Elsie, of course. The girls will do all the cooking to relieve me of the chores, and you men will no doubt find your own pleasure in playing cards in the afternoon when you’ve slept off the effects of the goose.’

  She spoke quickly, anticipating trouble from her eldest son. It exasperated her that in planning for this most special day of the year, there had to be such problems. People needed to be together to celebrate Christ’s birth. Families needed to be together. And if you believed in Christ’s teachings, then those who had families should welcome into their homes those who had no-one, like young Elsie here. And since the Travis men were eventually to be related to the Stuckeys by marriage, it was only right and proper, and good manners, that they should all be together too.

  ‘I’ve no wish to play cards or sit at table with John Travis,’ Wilf snapped. The smarting humiliation of being beaten in a fist fight with the man was still too vivid in his mind for him to be so readily forgiving.

  ‘You can sit beside me then, Wilf,’ Elsie said quickly. ‘I’ll look after you.’

  He grunted something in reply beneath his breath, and Ma wished the girl wouldn’t be so blatant. Not that Wilf took the slightest notice of her attempts to flirt, thank goodness. She was considerate for Elsie’s welfare, but she had n
o wish to have her as a daughter-in-law. She glanced at Wilf and sighed, thinking how cheerful he had looked a few minutes ago, and how black he looked now.

  ‘What possessed you to ask them?’ he said curtly.

  ‘Carrie and John intend to be married on her birthday, and it’s only right that we should all get acquainted,’ Ma said patiently as if she was talking to a child. Sometimes she thought Billy had more sense than some of the older ones. Life was less complicated when you were only eight, and at least Billy was excited at the prospect of having people in the house. He missed Frank, and John was his hero.

  Sam spoke up again. ‘You won’t change her, boy. I’ve tried, but her mind is fixed. Bloody women. They rule us all. You mark my words and steer clear of them as long as you can.’ It was a rare censure of his wife in public. Ma got stiffly to her feet and moved to the table.

  ‘You two can argue all you like, but the thing’s done and there’s no changing it now. And Elsie’s taken the trouble to make us all egg-toasts for supper, so I’m eating mine before it gets cold. Billy, you come down and eat some food too, and stop gawping up there.’

  Wilf sat down heavily at the table, glowering all around. ‘So our Carrie’s still set on marrying him then, is she? I thought perhaps she’d have found some other attraction while she was working at her posh Clifton mansion.’

  ‘Why don’t you like John?’ Billy put in belligerently. ‘He’s more fun than you, our Wilf.’

  He got a mild cuff around the ear from his brother for that, and he howled in protest.

  ‘Yes, why don’t you like him, Wilf?’ Elsie said sweetly. ‘I reckon most girls would think him a real swell. They all give him the eye when he’s working the ferry boat.’

  ‘Most girls are welcome to him then. Does our Carrie know he’s such a favourite?’ Wilf said.

  ‘I don’t know. I never asked her,’ Elsie said innocently, when to her surprise she felt Ma’s hand move over hers in a surprisingly firm grip.