Northern Girl

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Northern Girl Page 10

by Fadette Marie Marcelle Cripps


  Tom shouted through to her, ‘Keep your hair on, Mam, it’s all under control.’ Then he added, laughing, ‘Anyway, give us a bit of peace, will you? I’m trying to have a wash, in private, if you don’t mind!’

  ‘In private, indeed, ah’ll give ’im in private!’ she said. Then she called through the gap in the door, ‘Ah’ve seen it all before, yer know, yer can’t embarrass me, lad!’

  Tom called back, ‘Well, it’s me that’s embarrassed! Anyway you get on with unloading your shopping, and let me get finished here – before the water goes cold, and I have to make the house into a steaming station platform again to warm it up.’

  ‘Cheeky monkey!’ he heard her mutter.

  He remembered Jessie calling him that. And now here he was, back home and trying to avoid her. Hannah had kept her promise not to tell Jessie exactly what day he was coming home, but nevertheless she’d hinted several times that he should go round to see her, warning him that most of the village would know that he was back by now, anyway, so she was sure to find out.

  ‘After all, lad,’ she reminded him, ‘she did pop round every now and then to see how we were while you were away, yer know.’

  ‘I know,’ he answered. He knew Jessie had her good points, but he couldn’t help wondering if her reasons for ‘popping round’ were as pure as Hannah believed. More like she was calling to make sure there was nowt going on that she didn’t know about, he thought.

  But despite all that, he would have to go to see her, and soon. He hadn’t even been in touch with his mates yet, either. For the past week he’d just enjoyed the peace of mooching around the house and catching up on family news. And he knew Hannah had loved having him all to herself for a while, too.

  ‘When’s our Rene coming to see us then, Mam? And where’s the towel, for goodness’ sake?’ Tom called from the scullery, where he was stripped to the waist shivering after what had turned out to be a tepid sink wash, because he’d put too much cold water in.

  He heard his mam ‘tut tut’ as she took a towel from in front of the fire, then, making a big thing of turning her head away, she threw it in to him, saying, ‘Ay lad, get that round yer. Yer never did think of getting the towel before yer got washed. And ter answer yer first question, our Rene should be back from Darlington sometime tomorrow. She really wanted ter be here when yer arrived home, yer know, but she had this course ter attend fer work, like. Anyway she said she’d written ter yer plenty, so you’ll know all her news already, I expect.’

  ‘Aye, well I do I suppose, but it’ll still be nice to see her … And the bairn, is she coming an’ all?’

  ‘Yes, our Jeannie’s been stayin’ with one of our Rene’s friends in Darlington, while her mam’s been on the course. It wasn’t very long, she only missed two or three days of school, like. Eee, Jeannie’ll be that pleased ter see yer, lad! Yer ’er favourite, you are, and she’ll be ten this year, yer know.’

  ‘God, she must’ve only been about four or five when I went away. And I’ll bet she’s a right little madam now.’

  ‘Well, she can be, if she doesn’t get ’er own way, like, but she’s got a good heart, has our Jeannie.’

  Tom smiled. ‘Well, she was always willing to share her sweets, even gave us her last one when I was going away. Brought a tear to my eye, as I remember.’

  ‘Ay well, our Jeannie would’ve given you ’er last anything. There was nobody like you, as far as she was concerned.’

  ‘Well, I’ll reserve my judgement till I see what she’s like now that she’s ten.’

  Hannah looked serious for a moment. ‘If our Rene’s back tomorrow, yer’d better get yerself over ter Jessie’s beforehand, otherwise there’ll be ructions. Cause yer can be sure that she’ll get ter know that yer back home, that’s if she doesn’t already. Yer goin’ ter have ter sort this out, lad. Don’t keep her hangin’ on if yer not interested, pet. It’s not right.’

  ‘Oh, I know that, Mam, but it’s not as simple as that. I think she’s assumed we’re going to get engaged, like.’

  Seeing Hannah’s face light up, he raised his hand to stop her. ‘Before you say anything, Mam, I never said a word. She just got it into her head. I’ve hardly written to her, either, since I realized that she might be thinking that way. She started talking about rings and stuff.’

  ‘Well, yer better put her straight now, and get it done with.’ Hannah looked concerned.

  ‘All right, Mother, don’t go on. I’ll see to it tonight, right?’

  It was easy to tell when Tom was annoyed. He always addressed his mam and da as Mother or Father. And he was especially irritated to be faced with what might be a very awkward situation. Tom hated rows, and always avoided them, in the hope that they’d prove unnecessary. Which rarely happened, of course. So, having finally realized that this particular problem had to be faced, he resented being reminded of the fact; especially since it was going to be bloody awkward to sort out.

  He’d heard there was a dance on tonight at the village hall, or ‘Scout hut’, as it was known. He supposed it must have been built originally for Scout meetings. Anyway, it had been used for all manner of things since, village dances being one. The dances had been popular before the war. And the first one since 1939 was being held tonight, and promised to be a special event.

  After much deliberation, he decided his tactic would be to drop a note in at Jessie’s while she was at work, telling her that he was back, but omitting to tell her just when that had been. She was sure to ask, but he’d get round it somehow, and make out he’d not been back long. He’d say he’d been shattered and needed to rest and get his mind together, which wasn’t a lie really, and now that he was feeling better would she like to meet up at the dance tonight? He’d tell her that he would like to see her, and he’d warn her that there was something he needed to talk to her about.

  Then, after thinking about it carefully, he decided not to say that he wanted to talk to her. She might assume I’m going to propose, he thought, and if she gets that into her head things will be even more difficult than they are already. Absolute disaster, in fact!

  Right then, here goes. Best do it while Mam’s popped next door to take Mrs Hurd’s bit of shopping round, then she can’t interfere, he thought, getting the pen and paper from the sideboard drawer.

  Dear Jessie,

  Sorry no letters for while, circumstances you know! Anyway I’m home at last, and have rested now, after a tiring journey home.

  Hear there’s a dance on in the Scout hut tonight, wondered if you fancy going?

  If you’re not there by about half past seven, I’ll call round yours to see you anyway.

  See you later on, then?

  Love Tom x

  He folded the piece of paper neatly, and after hunting high and low for an envelope he gave up and just folded it over again, making a square. He pulled the front door closed, then headed straight over to Jessie’s house, which was in Ramshaw, a village which would have adjoined Evenwood if it hadn’t been for the cemetery and a field or two in-between. It was a similar set-up, in fact, to the way Marck and Calais were separated in France, and he felt a bit of a pang as he strolled past the cemetery with the note to Jessie in his pocket. But it was Maddie he was thinking about, and the way she used to get him to bunk her up the cemetery wall, so she could peer wide-eyed over the top at the huge, sinister-looking ornamental gravestones.

  I’ve never even looked over this one, he thought, as he came up alongside the old grey stone wall, which was about two feet taller than he was. Suddenly curious, he jumped and managed to dig his fingers into a crevice on the top, which enabled him to pull himself up. Maddie would be disappointed, he thought, scuffing the toes of his newly polished shoes in an effort to keep balanced. It’s nowhere near as impressive as that one over there in France. Why, these gravestones are puny in comparison. No, this wouldn’t do for Maddie at all, he decided, as he jumped down. Then, turning swiftly around, he brushed the palms of his hands together, to rid them of crumbl
ing bits of mortar, and walked on, lost in thought.

  He hadn’t mentioned his relationship with Maddie at home, partly because he felt inexplicably protective about it, and partly because he was sure he’d never see her again. He had great respect for her, but her life was so far from his here, and from the way in which he’d been brought up, that he felt they were simply too different. His time with her in France seemed so distant now, that sometimes it was as though it had all been a dream, a lovely dream. But he only had to remind himself of their painful goodbye in France to know that she had been real. He’d got so close both to Maddie and her family, and especially her brother Dominic, that he’d almost become assimilated into their way of life. If only it hadn’t been for the language barrier, he thought.

  God, it was so different here! It was neither better nor worse, he told himself, just very different. He looked around, taking it all in. I should have written to Maddie, he thought. I can’t imagine what she must think of me. He’d convinced himself that the reason he hadn’t was because – since he’d arrived home and seen the realities of his way of life and his situation – he couldn’t see the benefit of prolonging something that couldn’t survive.

  He supposed that he’d realized all this early on, as he was sure she herself must have done. But then he’d fallen madly in love with Maddie, something he’d not banked on, and just wanted to spend every spare minute with her, and at that point of time living in the moment had seemed more desirable than planning for the future.

  It had crossed his mind that he should write at least once to let her know what he was thinking. But not really knowing what to say, he’d kept procrastinating, telling himself that he needed more time. He didn’t feel very proud of himself now. As he walked, he wondered what she was up to, how she was feeling – even worse, if she hated him.

  His thoughts were soon interrupted. Even before he reached Jessie’s house he could hear her mother’s rough cackle. There was no mistaking it, even after all this time. He knew she’d be out on the doorstep where she spent most of her time, and had ever since he’d known her. He rounded the corner at the bottom of the road, and there she was, nattering away fifty to the dozen. The sound was so familiar that he could easily have imitated her.

  Suddenly her voice stopped, and for a split second all was quiet. He didn’t glance at her at once, but then she boomed out, ‘Well, well, well, look who it isn’t!’ He looked straight into her eyes and she stared back with obvious distaste. She continued without taking a breath, ‘Yer’ve lowered yersel’ at last ter come ter see our Jessie, then? Well, ah’ve got news fer yer. She isn’t ’ere. She’s got better things ter do, than ter ’ang around all day waitin’ fer the likes of you.’ Stopping to take a breath now, she looked him up and down.

  ‘Well, that might be,’ replied Tom patiently, ‘but I’ve not been long back, and this is the first chance I’ve had to get here.’

  ‘Oh aye, well, pull the other one, it’s got bells on it! Cause ah ’appen ter know that yer’ve been back a while, an ah’ve not let on ter our Jessie fer fear of breakin’ ’er ’art.’

  Tom tried to interrupt but couldn’t get a word in edgeways as she went on with the tirade. ‘An’ what about the bloody letters? You didn’t ’ave ter see ’er disappointment every day when there was no letters in t’ bloody postbox. Why the ’ell she hangs around waitin’ fer the likes of you, Tom Dawson, ah’ll never know.’

  Tom, determined to rise above it and stay calm, said quietly, ‘Look, Mrs Parkin, I know you don’t think much of me, but will you please pass on this note to Jessie? I’ll explain everything when I see her.’ He couldn’t resist adding mockingly, ‘And yes, I’m safe and well, thanks for asking!’

  Saying nothing more, Jessie’s mother snatched the note from his hand, then went inside, slamming the door behind her, leaving the neighbour she’d been talking to standing awkwardly on her doorstep.

  Tom stood there for a moment face to face with the door, which was no more than an inch away from his face. Bloody hell, he thought, this is going to be worse than I thought. He mouthed to the slammed door, ‘Bloody nutter!’ He turned to leave, but not before bowing politely to the neighbour, who, mouth open, was still standing there, as if frozen in time.

  On seeing the twitching curtains of the invisible audience behind them, Tom took a second bow – then left. Jessie’s mam had never really taken to Tom, or his family for that matter. It was plain jealousy, he knew that. Because, even though his mam and da weren’t very well off, and his da in particular spoke in broad north eastern miners’ talk, as did all the pit families round about, what they did have was plenty of common sense and graft. Jack Dawson was a fountain of knowledge, and Hannah kept a spotless house. In fact, when he thought about it, everything the two of them did was for the good of the family. Jack had always worked hard, and mostly they’d had a happy family life.

  But Jessie’s mam, now, that was a different matter. Tom had never seen her look anything but scruffy. What with her dirty pinnies, and the fag hanging out the side of her gob, its smoke billowing up into the scarf she always had tied on her head, covering hair that she never washed, she was a dirty bitch.

  He headed swiftly back towards home, all the time turning the encounter over in his mind. And as for the house …! Well, if Jessie hadn’t tidied and cleaned a bit now and then, you’d have called it a hovel. He’d known when he’d first called on her there that Jessie was ashamed of the house and her mother. But he’d purposely not mentioned it, and anyway he’d been warned about it by their Rene, who was friendly with Jess, and went there often. And he remembered thinking at the time: well, if our Rene can ignore it, so can I.

  Anyway, he hadn’t had to call there too much. They’d usually arranged to meet somewhere easy for both of them, somewhere away from her mother. But, regardless of her mother and the house, to give her her due, Jessie had always looked clean, and worn nice clothes, at least since she’d earned her own money as a clerk at Doggarts department store in Bishop Auckland. And, he thought, their Rene probably gets clothes at a discount for her, too.

  Suddenly feeling painfully sympathetic towards Jessie, he pushed the thought aside, telling himself, Oh no! don’t go down that path for God’s sake, or you’ll never finish with her!

  Meanwhile, inside the house, Mrs Parkin had thrown herself down into the only chair free of a pile of clothes waiting to be ironed, and after several attempts at lighting a match she shakily lit another fag, all the time muttering in anger, ‘Bloody upstart, comin’ round ’ere as if ’ee was God’s gift! Huh, the whole bloody family think their shite don’t stink.’

  As she leaned forward to flick the cigarette ash into the fire, she glanced at the note that she’d chucked on to the cluttered mantlepiece, realizing for the first time that it wasn’t in an envelope. She picked it up and turned it over, examining it closely. Well, our Jess’ll never know, she thought, with the note already half open in her hands. She quickly scanned it before, without a second thought, screwing it up and chucking it in the fire.

  There, that’ll teach the little git, she thought. Let ’im hang around waitin’ fer her fer a change. It never crossed her mind for a moment that maybe all this anger was nothing to do with how she thought Tom had treated Jessie. Or that maybe it was more to do with her fear that if they did eventually marry she’d be left on her own now that Jessie’s da had run off with that daft lass half his age.

  Tom arrived back home just after Hannah, who was busily checking what was left in her ration book. As he walked in she glanced up at him. ‘If ah didn’t know any better, lad, with a face on yer like that, ah’d think yer’d lost a five pound note and found a tanner! But ah know yer didn’t have a five pound note in the first place, so come on, what’s up?’

  ‘Well, for your information, Mam, I’ve been over to Jessie’s, and had a right to-do with her mam. She’s not right in the head, that one!’ He paced around in frustration.

  ‘Eee, lad, she’s had problems, ye
r know. Yer have ter be a bit lenient, pet.’

  ‘Oh, give over, Mam! She’s nowt but a lazy old cow. She’s filthy! The house is filthy! And she just sits on her arse all day … gossiping old hag!’

  ‘Well, she never used ter be as bad as all that when our Rene first started knocking around with their Jessie,’ Hannah said, coming up closer to him and discreetly pointing a thumb over her shoulder, as if what she had to say was too awful to be heard by anyone else. ‘It’ll be since ’er husband left ’er, yer know,’ she whispered. ‘It’s probably sent ’er a bit doolally.’

  ‘Well, I’m not surprised he bloody left her. Slammed the door in my face, she did! And all the bloody nosey parkers across the road were lapping it up, hiding behind their filthy nets. So I gave them all a gracious bow before I left.’

  ‘Eeee, yer never did, our Tom!’ Hannah laughed. ‘Yer only make things worse fer yerself, yer know.’

  ‘Well, I’ve left her a note to give to Jessie about the dance tonight, so if she comes I’ll do my best to break it gently. But seeing her mam like that today hasn’t helped one bit. Christ! Jessie could turn out to be just like her. In fact when I think about it, she wasn’t that far off when I last saw her!’

  ‘There’s only you can sort it out, lad, and the sooner the better, fer both yer sakes,’ Hannah advised. Then she added, ‘Mind you, she’ll probably think yer’ve asked ’er ter the dance because yer want ter be with ’er.

  ‘That’s as may be, but I can’t sit her down in the house and do it face to face, so I’ll choose me time and try not to make too big a thing of it.’

  If this had been any other lad she’d been listening to, Hannah would have thought he was taking the cowardly option, and selfishly finding the way that best suited him. But this was her lad, who in her eyes could do no wrong, and he was certainly no coward. After all, he’d fought in the war, hadn’t he! So closing her mind to any thoughts that might spoil that image, she suggested, ‘Just try not ter go at it like a bull in a china shop, eh? She’s got feelings, yer know. And don’t forget she’s Rene’s friend, an’ all. We don’t want ructions as soon as she gets back tomorrer.’

 

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