Across a Summer Sea

by Lyn Andrews

  It was late afternoon by the time she finally made her way along Scotland Road, her shawl pulled up over her head as a cold sleet had started to fall, and already the daylight was fading. It was always busy along here, she thought as she darted between the horse-drawn carts and newly electrified trams. She’d go to Lunt’s and see if there were any loaves left. They wouldn’t be classed as fresh at this time of day and might be cheaper. If she could get some bones and scrag end of mutton from one of the butchers she could make a pan of scouse. There were some potatoes and a few carrots at home. In Pegram’s she would get a pennyworth of tea and sugar and some lentils and a pound of dripping. That would do for tonight and tomorrow morning. Frank would have to make do with bread and dripping for breakfast, but at least there were all the treats at Violet’s wedding feast and hopefully a chicken for Christmas dinner for him to look forward to. Besides, she had only a few coppers left in her purse until she got Frank’s wages and the laundry money.

  She stared longingly at the rows of turkeys, chickens, geese and legs of pork that hung in rows outside the butchers’ shops and at the fruit and vegetables piled high in the greengrocer’s. Everywhere looked very festive and bright, she thought as shopkeepers lit their gas lamps. Even the damp and dirty cobbles reflected the light. A brewery dray passed decorated with holly and red ribbons; the bells attached to the gleaming brasswork on the horses’ harnesses tinkled musically as the four massive but gentle Clydesdales moved smartly along. Ah, well, there would be plenty of bargains at the market tomorrow night. People said if you couldn’t get a bargain in Great Homer Street then you just couldn’t get a bargain at all.

  She was hurrying home with her head bent against the weather when, as she turned the corner of Newsham Street, she almost collided with a young girl.

  ‘Nora! I didn’t see you there. Isn’t it a raw evening?’

  Nora Phelps grimaced. She was a thin, pale and not very attractive girl of just seventeen. ‘It’s shockin’, Mary. I’m frozen stiff.’

  ‘Why aren’t you at home by the fire? You look half starved.’

  ‘I finished work early. Well, I was laid off, iffen yer must know, but only until after Christmas.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry.’

  ‘So is me mam. Still, it gives me some time ter get somethin’ ter wear fer this posh do of Vi’s.’

  ‘I wouldn’t exactly call it posh, Nora.’

  ‘If yer listen ter me mam yer’d think it was.’

  ‘Oh, you know how your mam exaggerates, but it should be good. I’m looking forward to it.’

  The girl simpered. ‘So am I. And I’ve managed to save up enough for something new.’

  Mary remembered Queenie’s confidences. ‘Ah, I see! You want to impress someone?’

  Nora giggled and simpered again and Mary thought how very young she looked, so naive and intense. She smiled to herself. Had she ever been as young and foolish herself, long ago? Very probably.

  ‘It wouldn’t be a certain feller that lives next door to you, would it?’

  ‘Oh, me mam can’t keep her mouth shut!’

  ‘Well, what are you going to buy?’ Mary asked, although she was getting impatient. She should be off home and getting the meal started instead of standing here talking to this silly young slip of a thing, but she didn’t want to hurt the girl’s feelings.

  ‘I dunno. A new blouse and maybe a bit of ribbon fer me ’air. It won’t run ter much more an’ it won’t be brand new either. I’m goin’ ter see what Mrs Carmichael’s got.’

  Mary nodded. Mrs Carmichael ran a second-hand clothes shop of a slightly better quality than most in the area. Her wares were definitely far better than those sold in Paddy’s Market.

  ‘Well, whatever you get will look lovely on you, Nora. I’m afraid anything I’ve got will look third- and maybe fourth-hand, but no one’s going to be looking at an old married woman like me, now are they?’

  Nora considered this. ‘You’re not that old, Mary, and I wish I had hair like yours. It’s gorgeous. All thick and curly. Mine’s as straight as a die!’

  ‘Believe me, Nora, it’s far from gorgeous! It’s what my mam, God rest her, used to call “a furze bush”. There’s too much of it and it has a will of its own. Your hair is lovely, especially when it’s tied up with a nice bit of ribbon. Well, I’d better get home and start Frank’s tea.’

  ‘Tarrah then. I’ll see yer at Nellie’s if not before.’ Nora turned away, pleased that Mary had complimented her on her hair. Yes, she’d definitely get a length of shiny satin ribbon. That would make Richie notice how ‘lovely’ her hair was.

  Katie and Lizzie were both home when Mary got in. ‘Where’s Tommy?’ she demanded, taking off her shawl and hanging it on a hook on the wall.

  ‘Said he was going to see what Georgie’s mam got off the rag-and-bone man.’

  Mary sighed. He was staying out of her way. ‘Well, look what I got you for an old jumper of your da’s that was falling apart.’ She opened the mesh-fronted press. ‘You’ve got to share it. Take turns with it.’ She held out a green paper windmill on a stick and blew on it gently. ‘Look, Lizzie, isn’t it pretty?’ She held it close to the child’s face and smiled at her. The pale little face lit up in a smile of wonder and the child copied her mother’s actions, blowing on it gently.

  ‘I’ll let her play with it for a while, Mam. I’ll help you get the tea,’ Katie offered, grateful that her mam had got her something.

  ‘You’re a good girl, Katie. Peel those potatoes for me while I get this meat into the pan. We’ll have a big plate of scouse with lots of bread to dip in. I’m starving and so will your da be when he gets in. I could do with our Tommy to fetch me a bit of coal from McShane’s on the corner. They’ll let me have a bit on the slate until tomorrow.’

  ‘Will I go for him, Mam?’ Katie asked, eager to tell Millie what her mam had got them.

  ‘Go on, luv, but don’t be long. I’m running late as it is.’

  The child ran out and Mary smiled briefly at Lizzie who was still enthralled with the new toy. Rolling up her sleeves, Mary emptied the potatoes into a bowl and made a start.

  She had finished them and was on to the carrots when Katie returned alone.

  ‘Where is he?’

  ‘I told him to go straight to McShane’s and then to come back home with the coal,’ Katie replied. She was trying to hide it but Mary could see she was upset.

  ‘What’s wrong, luv?’

  ‘They got two goldfish and two yo-yos and Millie says they’re having turkey and plum pudding and mince pies and jelly and even lemonade on Christmas Day and she’s got a new dress and shoes for the wedding and . . . everything!’

  ‘Oh, Katie! Come here to me, luv!’ Mary left the vegetables and put her arms around her daughter. Hetty Price was really pulling out all the stops. It wasn’t fair. It really wasn’t. But why did Hetty have to flaunt it all? She longed to tell the child about the things she planned to buy tomorrow but she couldn’t spoil the surprise. To her horror she heard the back-yard door open. Surely to God it wasn’t that late? Frank must have finished early and here she was with no table set, no meal ready, a pathetic fire in the range and Katie in tears.

  ‘Dry your eyes, luv, here’s your da,’ she hissed before turning to face her husband. ‘Frank, luv, you’re very early. I didn’t expect you so soon. I’m a bit behind.’

  ‘I can see that. What’s wrong with her?’ These days there always seemed to be some drama going on when he got home from work. And he was cold, tired and hungry and in no mood for hysterics from the kids. He took off his coat and cap and sat down. Mary did try, he’d give her that. Usually his meal was ready and the place was always fairly tidy, but she seemed to have little time for him these days. If it wasn’t the kids it was the neighbours and the hardships of their lives, as if their own lives were ones of comfort and plenty.

  ‘Oh, nothing much. Millie Price has been boasting about all the things she’s getting and what they’re going to eat at Ch
ristmas.’

  The neighbours again! he thought irritably. Not ‘Are you tired, Frank? Has it been a hard day?’

  ‘That woman’s a fool where money is concerned,’ he said sourly. ‘Is there no coal? That’s a poor excuse for a fire.’ He stretched out his numbed hands to the feeble warmth and then sighed. ‘I know it’s hard to heat these houses decently in winter, Mary, but can’t Tommy have gone out and found a few bits of wood? It’s freezing in here.’

  ‘He’s gone to McShane’s for some coal. He won’t be long now and then we’ll soon have the place warmed up,’ she answered, trying to cheer him up. At least he wasn’t blaming her entirely. ‘Did you . . . er . . . get paid?’ she asked hesitantly.

  ‘I did. What there is of it and only a half-day expected tomorrow.’ And he knew she would already have that money earmarked. Didn’t she realise that they just weren’t in a position to splash out at Christmas?

  Mary’s heart sank. What was he saying? That he didn’t have much to give her? She’d banked on that money. ‘Well, never mind, luv, we’ll manage on whatever you’ve got.’

  Lizzie had sidled up to his chair and was holding out the windmill, smiling and nodding at him.

  ‘Where did she get this? I thought you had no money? Isn’t that what you told me this morning?’

  ‘It didn’t cost anything, Frank. I got it from the rag-and-bone merchant in exchange for an old jumper.’

  He felt annoyance rising in him. There she went again, not thinking sensibly. Probably some of the other kids, like Bert Price’s, had been running out after the rag-and-bone man with armfuls of stuff to exchange for junk like that windmill and Katie had come crying to her that they didn’t get anything, and she’d taken notice of the child and given stuff away when they had nothing to spare. ‘Not my jumper, I hope!’

  ‘Oh, Frank, it was in a terrible state. Full of holes that I couldn’t possibly darn. It was only fit for the rag bag.’

  ‘And you swapped it for that? It would have done me for work. It would have been an extra layer to keep out the cold.’

  ‘It was just for . . . well, for a bit of a treat for Katie and Lizzie. They don’t get much.’

  He lost his temper. ‘They get more than I ever got as a kid! You spoil them, Mary! You don’t think! I won’t have it! I work damned hard for all of you and I won’t have you giving things away.’

  Mary was stung. ‘I work hard too, Frank!’

  ‘What have you been doing all day? Jangling?’

  Mary pressed her lips together angrily as Tommy, followed by Maggie, appeared in the doorway.

  ‘I found him staggering down the street with this,’ Maggie said, dumping the small sack of coal on the floor by the range.

  ‘Thanks, Maggie. Tommy, make yourself useful and build up that fire, your da’s cold and tired.’

  Maggie sensed the tenseness in the atmosphere and looked pointedly at Mary. ‘Nellie said to thank you for all your help today, luv. She said she doesn’t know how she’d have managed otherwise.’

  Frank shot a glance at his wife. So that’s what she’d been doing all day when she should have been at home seeing to her own family. ‘This wedding’s getting out of all proportion!’ he muttered.

  Maggie raised her eyes to the ceiling. ‘Can I help you with anything, Mary, before I go and see to my own fire and tea and then the washing?’

  Mary smiled at her. ‘No thanks, Maggie. Everything is nearly done now and Katie will help out. You must be tired too.’

  ‘Aye, it’s been a long day for everyone,’ Maggie said meaningfully. Frank McGann had a bad-tempered look on his face and he was home early. That wasn’t a good sign. ‘Kids all all right?’ she enquired, glancing at a subdued Tommy.

  ‘Fine,’ Mary replied firmly. She had no intention of mentioning Tommy’s misdemeanours to Frank now. He would blame her and she was determined there wasn’t going to be a row tonight. Maggie had spoken the truth. It had indeed been a long and tiring day and there was still the washing to sort and fold. She prayed no one would call for it early.

  It was after eight o’clock when the last load of laundry had been collected and she and Maggie sat at the table dividing the money between them.

  ‘Two and sixpence for a week’s back-breaking work!’ Maggie said irritably, thinking of the long cold hours spent fetching and heating water, scrubbing, rinsing, mangling and pegging out.

  ‘Every little helps,’ Mary reminded her, casting a quick glance at Frank who was reading the Echo. All three children were amusing themselves by scribbling notes to Father Christmas on the backs of old cigarette packets that Tommy had found. She wondered just how much Lizzie really understood about Christmas and its traditions, although both she and Katie had tried their best, with great patience, using pictures she’d cut from newspaper advertisements.

  ‘Will you come with me to the market tomorrow night?’

  ‘Maybe,’ Maggie mused.

  ‘I might need you to help me carry things—’

  Frank looked up. ‘How much do you intend to buy? I’ve told you there’s only a half-day tomorrow and we finished early tonight.’

  ‘As much as I can,’ Mary answered firmly. ‘Maggie will be having her dinner with us, won’t you, luv?’

  ‘Like always, Mary.’ She shot a look at Frank. ‘And like always I’ll chip in with the cost of it.’ Suddenly she felt angry at the way Frank was treating Mary. ‘Here, you take it all. Get yourself something to wear for Vi’s wedding. You’re a fine-looking girl and it’s years since you’ve had anything decent to wear.’

  ‘Maggie, I couldn’t! I couldn’t spend it on myself when . . .’ Mary looked in the direction of the children.

  ‘You worked hard for it, luv. You more than do your fair share. I insist. Otherwise I . . . I’ll give it all to Father Heggarty!’

  ‘Take it, Mary, there’s enough given to the clergy at this time of year. They’ll not feel the want of it,’ Frank interjected. He had little time for religion. Any religion. His views were more in line with the Socialists than the Church.

  ‘I’ll take it, Maggie, but not for myself.’

  Maggie’s anger had evaporated. She felt tired. Very tired. ‘Just take it, Mary, that’s all I ask.’

  Mary turned the coins over in her hand, tears springing to her eyes. It was a long time since anyone had been so generous. Well, she’d make sure there was a slap-up dinner and a small gift for Maggie. Maybe a pair of woollen mittens for her poor swollen, red and chapped hands. She’d appreciate that. She had complained lately that her hands were getting stiff and painful with arthritis.

  Maggie rose. ‘Well, I’m off to my bed.’

  Mary also got to her feet. ‘And it’s time you three were in bed too. I’ve a pile of mending to get done and it’s going to be a busy day tomorrow.’

  Chapter Three

  NEXT MORNING WHEN MARY drew the curtains in the kitchen she saw that it had snowed quite heavily during the night. The snow had transformed the tiny dingy yard. The shapes of the washtub and the old mangle could barely be distinguished. However, a weak sun was filtering through the remaining grey clouds. At least that would make it a bit more bearable, she thought.

  There wasn’t time to stand and admire the scene though: there was the fire to mend; the breakfast - such as it was - to be made; then, when Frank had gone to work, the real work would begin. And she was still so tired. It had been late when she had finally finished all the mending last night and Frank had gone up before her, with barely a muttered ‘goodnight’. But she set to, and before long she had cleared the table and Katie had washed the dishes and then had joined Tommy’s entreaties to be allowed to go out and play in the snow.

  ‘Take Lizzie with you and be careful. It will be slippery underfoot and the last thing I need today is for one of you to fall and break something!’

  ‘Mam, can I take the tray out of the oven? We’ll make a great slide!’ Tommy begged.

  ‘No, you can’t. You’ll make the pavements even
worse for people to walk on. It’s freezing out there. Here, Lizzie, let me wrap this around you, luv.’ She gently drew the child to her and wrapped a long hand-knitted scarf over her head and around her neck, wishing her coat was thicker and that they all had gloves or mittens. ‘Now, off you go. Take care and don’t go making a nuisance of yourselves! Katie, you and Lizzie go and call on Nellie and tell her I’ll keep an eye on her kids too, that’s if she’s letting them out.’

  ‘They’ll be out, Mam. Everyone will be out,’ Katie answered, pulling her sister towards the door. Tommy had already disappeared.

  ‘As if we needed this!’ Maggie said crossly as she came into the room, jerking her head in the direction of the snow-covered yard.

  ‘Oh, I don’t mind. At least it keeps the kids quiet.’

  ‘Until they get cold and wet and start traipsing in and out.’

  Mary looked closely at the older woman. ‘You’re not yourself this morning, Maggie.’

  ‘No, luv, I’m not. I don’t feel well. I had a shocking night. I just couldn’t get comfortable.’

  ‘I’ll put the kettle on. Shall I tell Nellie you’re not up to giving her a hand? You could even go back to bed. Try and get some rest, you deserve it, Maggie, you work very hard and I’ll be busy today.’

  Maggie was scandalised. ‘Take to my bed at this time in the morning! There’s time enough for that when I’m really sick! No, I promised Nellie. I’ll be fine after a cup of tea.’

  Mary cut her a slice of bread and spread dripping on it, then placed the big brown teapot on the table.

  ‘Let it stand for a minute. I’d better make a list of everything I want to buy today so I don’t forget anything.’