by Lyn Andrews
‘That will do from you, miss! Go inside and find Mrs Price and tell her to come out here this minute. I know whose idea this was!’ She glared at young Georgie.
‘Oh, Mam, I feel shocking!’ Tommy wailed and was promptly and violently sick.
‘Serve you right! Now the lot of you can get buckets of water and the yard-brush and clean this mess up!’
‘Mam, I . . . I can’t!’ Tommy said, still looking green.
‘I didn’t make no mess,’ Georgie muttered sullenly.
Nellie, followed closely by Hetty, appeared in the yard.
‘This shower of greedy little pigs have scoffed all the ice cream, Nellie. I’m sorry but our Tommy’s just been sick. I’ve told them to clean up the yard.’ Mary glared at her son and Georgie Price.
‘Do you know how much that cost me?’ Nellie cried. ‘And I was saving it for later on.’
Sweeping up her new red skirt Hetty stepped forward and boxed her son firmly around the ears. ‘I’ve had more than enough of you and your antics these past few days, Georgie! Get home to your da. He won’t be very pleased to see you, I can tell you! Christmas Eve and a pub to run on his own and now you acting the fool! I can’t get five flaming minutes to enjoy myself. This is the first time I’ve been out for weeks and you have to ruin it!’
‘It’s the first time any of us has had something to enjoy for months, Hetty!’ Mary said irritably.
‘Go on, get home! Here, give me that brush,’ Hetty demanded.
‘You’ll ruin your good skirt, Hetty, leave it to me,’ Nellie instructed.
‘I’ll do it. You’ve got guests to see to, Nellie. Then I’m taking my lot home to bed. They’ve had more than enough excitement for one day!’ Mary stated firmly. ‘Katie, go and find Lizzie and get your coats.’
‘Thanks, Mary, luv. You will be back, won’t you?’
‘Of course. Now get back inside both of you.’
‘You’re a real pal, Mary, and I’m sorry about Georgie and all . . . this,’ Hetty said, pushing her son towards the yard door.
While Katie went to do her mother’s bidding and Tommy sat dejectedly on the upturned washtub, Mary grimly set to and swilled the yard. She had no new red skirt that might get ruined. The only consolation was that Hetty had at least meted out some punishment, which made a change.
She took the children home and saw them into bed, promising there would be treats for all of them in the morning if they went to sleep straight away - even Tommy who she felt had been punished enough. He was abjectly sorry and still looked awful. Nellie should have made sure that bowl of ice cream was well out of their reach, she thought as she ran quickly up the back jigger towards the party. She hoped it would still be in full swing; no doubt it would end up in Hetty’s husband’s pub when all the drink Nellie and Fred had provided was exhausted, and that wouldn’t be long now.
Richie was in the yard, smoking a Woodbine.
‘I was just going to come and look for you, Mary. Where’ve you been? What’s been going on? Hetty looks furious.’
Briefly Mary told him. ‘Well, now they’re safely in bed perhaps I can go back to enjoying myself,’ she finished.
‘So can I. I missed you.’
She pealed with laughter. ‘Oh, Richie! The place is coming down with pretty young girls! And you missed me! You’re a terrible flatterer!’
‘Mary, you really don’t know just how beautiful you are, do you? I’ve been noticing a lot of admiring glances in your direction all day and night.’
She blushed and laughed self-consciously. ‘Don’t be ridiculous! We’d better get inside.’ She turned away and in her embarrassment tripped over the head of the yard-brush.
Richie caught her before she fell but quickly she recovered her composure.
‘Oh, I’m getting so clumsy!’
‘So, this is where you are and what you’re up to!’ Frank’s bellowed accusation rang out over the yard.
‘Frank! I tripped over! It’s not what it seems.’
‘Don’t be telling me bloody lies, woman! I’ve got eyes in my head!’ He staggered towards them and Mary realised he was very drunk.
‘Tommy was sick so I took them all home and put them to bed. I came into the yard and saw Richie, then I tripped up. That’s the God’s honest truth, Frank. There’s nothing going on. I honestly don’t know what’s the matter with you lately.’
‘You expect me to believe that? The pair of you out here on your own and him with his arms around you! You brazen bitch! And I know all about where you were last night when you told me you’d been shopping. Shopping, my bloody arse!’
‘Frank, there’s no need for language like that and what Mary’s telling you is true—’
‘Oh, I know you were off drinking in the Britannia last night. Don’t you deny it! And that’s not all, I’ll bet!’
‘Who told you that?’ Mary demanded. The noise had already drawn a few of the guests outside.
‘Does it bloody matter? But it was young Nora Phelps, if you must know.’ He was livid. How dare she carry on like this? How dare she make a fool of him in front of the whole street?
‘And you believed her? She’s a stupid, jealous kid,’ Richie shouted back angrily.
‘Yes, I believe her. Why the hell would she lie?’ Frank grabbed Mary roughly by the arm. ‘I’ll teach you, you bloody hussy!’
Mary screamed. Frank raised his fist but before he could bring it down Richie hit him hard on the side of his head and he stumbled and fell, cursing.
‘Frank! Richie! Stop this, both of you!’ Mary shrieked.
‘I won’t stand by and let him belt you for something you haven’t done, Mary!’ Richie stormed.
Frank was staggering to his feet. ‘I’ll swing for you, you bloody little upstart! I’ll teach you, both of you!’ He made a swipe at Mary but Richie hit him again and this time he lay sprawled out on the wet flagstones.
Within seconds a group of men had appeared. A few tried to get Frank to his feet, the rest gripped Richie’s arms.
‘That’s enough, the pair of yez!’ Fred Jones shouted.
Mary was near to tears. ‘Fred, I don’t know what got into Frank. He . . . he tried to hit me! Richie was only defending me. Oh, God! What a mess! I’m sorry, so sorry!’
‘All right, girl! He’s had a bellyful of ale. He’ll be all right when he’s sobered up.’
‘Oh, I’m mortified!’ Mary sobbed. She had never seen Frank like this - she had never known him to be capable of such unreasonable behaviour. And he’d never raised a hand to her before.
Nellie and Queenie joined the men.
‘Nellie, I’m sorry. Oh, what a family! First Tommy and now Frank.’
‘It’s not your fault, luv. He’s dead drunk.’
‘I know whose bloody fault it is! It’s ’im - an’ our flaming Nora’s got an ’and in it somewhere!’ Queenie interrupted. She’d found Nora crying on the stairs and had got a garbled tale out of her.
‘You want to keep an eye on her, Mrs Phelps. She’s a troublemaker,’ Richie warned.
‘I know, an’ she don’t need the likes of youse ter give ’er an ’and!’ Queenie shot back.
‘What do yer want ter do with ’im, Mary?’ Alfie Phelps asked. Having bodily heaved a now unconscious Frank to his feet, he had slung him over his shoulder. He wasn’t called ‘Big Alfie’ for nothing.
‘Best thing ter do with ’im, Alfie, is take ’im ’ome an’ let ’im sleep it off!’ Queenie advised.
Mary nodded. ‘I’d be grateful if you could get him home, Alfie, I really would.’
The big man nodded and Fred opened the yard door for him.
Mary turned to Nellie and Queenie. ‘I’m so sorry. I . . . I just don’t know what’s the matter with him.’
‘Neither do I,’ Nellie agreed.
‘I’d just keep away from this feller in future, Mary. ’E’s trouble with a capital T. Always ’as been an’ always will be. I’ve given our Nora a piece of me mind about ’im!’ Queenie gl
ared at Richie who pushed past her and went inside the house, slamming the scullery door behind him.
Alfie deposited the prostrate Frank on the bed and then Mary took off his boots and pulled the blanket over him.
‘Let ’im sleep it off, luv. ’E’ll ’ave an ’ead as big as Birkenhead in the mornin’ - an’ a few bruises.’
‘Thanks again, Alfie. You get back now. Oh, we’ve ruined everyone’s enjoyment.’
He laughed. ‘Norra bit of it, luv! Just adds ter the night. Yer’ll laugh about it in a couple of weeks an’ everyone will remember young Vi’s weddin’ as the night Richie Seddon laid out Frank McGann.’
‘That’s what I’m afraid of!’ Mary said grimly.
‘You all right, girl?’
‘Yes, thanks. I’ve still got plenty of things to do so I’d better get on. I’ll probably sleep down here. Go on back before they all go to the pub without you!’
When Alfie had left she sank down by the fire and dropped her head in her hands. Oh, what a night! How humiliating! She pulled herself together. She did have a lot of things to do and she was determined this wasn’t going to ruin Christmas.
Some of her good humour returned as she put up the decorations and arranged sprigs of holly along the mantelshelf and above the door and window. Then she took the penny toys and the sweets from where she had hidden them, selected three apples and oranges from the dish and filled the three stockings that had been hung over the range. Then she made herself a cup of tea and sat down to admire the room. It did look bright and cheerful and festive and she couldn’t wait to see the children’s reactions when they came down, especially poor little Lizzie’s.
Chapter Five
NEXT MORNING MARY FORGOT the events of the previous night and her lack of sleep as soon as she saw the wondering expressions on the faces of the children and heard the excited cries of delight from Katie and Tommy. Lizzie’s eyes were shining and she held up the little wood and paper dolls for Mary to exclaim over.
‘Dolls. Pretty dolls. Father Christmas brought them for you, Lizzie,’ Mary mouthed slowly.
Lizzie nodded and stroked Mary’s cheek as an added sign that she understood. It was a gesture Mary had taught her and now it brought tears to Mary’s eyes; she hugged Lizzie’s thin little body to her, wishing for the thousandth time that Lizzie could have been born like her brother and sister. She swallowed hard. ‘I told you Father Christmas would come. And we’re going to have a lovely big dinner. Doesn’t the room look great?’
‘He must have been here for ages to have put all those decorations up. Did you see him, Mam?’ Katie asked, all agog.
Mary laughed. ‘Good heavens no! I was fast asleep too. Now, we’d better get ready for church.’
‘What’s the matter with me da’s face?’ Tommy asked as Frank, looking very much the worse for wear, came into the kitchen. One side of his face was swollen and his eye was beginning to close, the flesh around it turning purple and blue.
‘Your da slipped and fell in the jigger on the way home from the party,’ she whispered. ‘Happy Christmas, Frank,’ she continued in a louder, cheerful voice, determined not to dampen the festive spirit. ‘We’re about to get ready for church. Shall I make you a cup of tea and something to eat?’ she enquired of her husband, who had sat down in the armchair and had leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
‘I’ll have the tea and then you get off to church. I’m not going.’
Katie glanced quickly at her father. It was unheard of, not going to Mass on Christmas morning, but, seeing the look on her mother’s face and her tightly compressed lips, she made no comment.
Lovely! Mary thought. How was this going to look? How was she going to explain this away to Father Heggarty without telling a pack of lies?
They met Nellie and her family also on their way to church.
‘Happy Christmas, Mary, luv! How’s he this morning?’ Nellie asked.
‘Looks as though he’s had an argument with a horse and cart!’ Maggie muttered darkly. Frank McGann’s behaviour was getting beyond a joke, in her opinion, not that she would dream of saying anything to Mary.
‘Not feeling up to Mass either,’ Mary added.
‘Oh, there’s quite a few like that this mornin’,’ Nellie said, shooting an irate glance at Fred who looked decidedly hungover and had needed a gallon of tea and some very strong words on her part to make him accompany them.
‘I’m really sorry about last night, Nellie.’
‘Oh forget it, Mary. It’s all done and dusted now. Let’s enjoy the day. Our Violet’s having her dinner with the new family, thank God. She wanted to come home but I told her, “Violet, this isn’t your home now, girl. You’re a married woman, your place is with your husband. You can’t be running home to me after a few hours!” Girls these days, I ask you!’
Mary smiled. She knew that even if in time Violet discovered she’d made the wrong choice Nellie would send her back with the admonition ‘You’ve made your bed, now you’ve to lie in it!’ However, she sincerely hoped that Violet would be happy - although there was no guarantee of it. She’d thought she was happy, until last night. The thought depressed her so much that she quickly turned her mind to the preparation of the food that awaited her when she returned home.
She was annoyed when, after Mass, Frank had announced that he was going to the pub for ‘a hair of the dog’, but said nothing. She had set the table, the chickens were in the oven and she and Maggie were preparing the vegetables.
‘Don’t let this dinner get ruined, Frank. It’s not often we have chicken!’ Maggie had called after him with false cheerfulness. There were many women who, after scrimping and saving and slaving to put a veritable feast on the table, saw all their efforts ruined when the men stayed too long in the pub and came home incapable of anything. Mary was doing her best to make it a special day and she wanted Frank to do his part.
Thankfully, he had returned home a couple of hours later, fairly sober but in not much better humour. However, despite his sullen manner, the meal had been great and they’d all eaten far too much. Tommy had gone out to play with his mates. Katie and Lizzie were playing quietly with their toys and Frank and Maggie were dozing by the fire as Mary quietly cleared the table. She would leave the dishes in the scullery until later: she didn’t want to disturb them. Glancing up, she saw through the tiny window the back-yard door open and Richie Seddon come up the yard.
Her hand flew to her mouth. If he knocked he might wake Frank and there’d be another scene. Quickly she opened the door and went out.
‘Richie, what are you doing here? Hasn’t there been enough trouble?’
He looked concerned. ‘I just came to see if you were all right, Mary.’
‘I’m fine. Things are great, thanks. Now will you go, please? I’ve the washing up to do.’
‘Don’t you ever stop working, Mary? You wait on them all hand and foot.’
‘Well, you know the saying. “A woman’s work is never done.” It’s true.’
He looked at her closely, noticing the frown lines on her forehead and the dark shadows under her eyes. ‘You look far from fine. You look tired and upset. I’m sorry, Mary.’
She managed a smile. ‘That’s all right, Richie. It . . . it wasn’t your fault. Now, I really must go and I’m sure you have far more exciting things to do than stand here in the cold talking to me.’
‘Like what?’
‘Oh, Richie! Just go!’ she urged, still smiling and giving him a gentle push.
‘All right! I’m on my way. Happy Christmas, Mary.’
She relented a little. ‘Happy Christmas, Richie, and thanks for calling.’
She watched him close the door and shook her head before turning and going back into the house.
Unknown to her her absence had been noticed. Frank had woken, thirsty, and had gone into the scullery for a drink of water. With narrowed eyes and his mouth set in a grim line he watched the brief conversation. By God! She was determined to carry on hu
miliating him! Even now they were probably planning their next meeting. Rage surged through him. So great was the force it made him shake. Oh, he’d been drunk last night, but not too drunk to realise what they’d been up to out in Nellie’s yard. Probably everyone had known, had been sniggering behind his back. ‘That poor, stupid fool Frank McGann being led a fine dance by his wife and her fancy feller and right under his nose.’ The memory of her laughing with Richie’s arm around her waist brought other images, darker images into his mind to torment him . . . and now they were together again. In his back yard, planning God knew what other things! Well, he’d had enough of this and he wasn’t going to belittle himself again by tackling Richie Seddon. No, he’d deal with her.
Mary was startled to see him standing in the scullery. ‘Frank! I thought you were dozing!’
‘And you made the most of it, didn’t you? Planning your next meeting with him!’
Mary was horrified. ‘Frank, I was doing nothing of the kind! How could you even think such a thing? He . . . he came to see if I was all right and I sent him away. I chased him off!’
‘And you expect me to believe that, after last night? You must think me a bloody fool. You couldn’t wait to see him again. “Oh, it’s all right, Richie, Frank’s asleep and anyway you taught him a lesson last night, he won’t bother us again!” ’ He mimicked her voice cruelly.
‘Frank! Stop it! Stop it, it’s not true. None of it is true!’ she cried.
‘Don’t lie to me, Mary. Even young Nora Phelps knows what you and he get up to.’
‘Nora knows nothing. There is nothing to know. Frank, please, this is crazy, stupid . . .’
Her words made him squirm with humiliation. ‘Oh, so now I’m crazy and stupid? Well, I’ve had enough of it. I want you out of here in an hour! And you can take the kids with you. I’m not breaking my back to keep a roof over your heads, food on the table and clothes on your backs, let him do it! Let him buy you fancy white blouses and tartan jackets. Let him pay to dress you up like a tart!’
Shocked though she was Mary fought back. ‘Like a tart? Frank, I bought those things in Paddy’s Market. They were probably third- or even fourth-hand. I buy nothing for myself. You buy me nothing.’