He bolted down a hasty breakfast and set off, pushing his barrow. He didn’t know what time Mrs Hibbert was moving, but he would put money on its being early. The purposeful young widow who had filled two bags of shopping in the time it took Mrs Watson to get the ham wasn’t the sort to hang about.
He called at the houses on this morning’s round, promising to fit them in another time, then headed for Finney Lane, with a smile that couldn’t be contained; he would have to get that under control before he arrived. Would she be pleased to see him? The soppy grin simmered down into a wry expression. Would she recognise him? He had barely warranted a glance on the two previous occasions.
He knocked and she opened the door.
‘Yes?’ She hooked some hair behind her ear. ‘Can I help you?’
‘Actually, I’m here to help you.’
‘Mummy, it’s the window cleaner.’ Alf tried to push past her, but she held onto his shoulder. ‘Cassie climbed up your ladder.’
‘So she did. The ladder’s on the barrow, so you’d better keep her away or she’ll be using it as a see-saw.’
Alf hooted in delight. His mum cast her gaze up to heaven, but it was only pretend: she was smiling too.
‘You think that’s a joke,’ she said, ‘but I wouldn’t put it past her.’
Her face softened. She had beautiful skin, smooth and radiant. Her eyes softened too and his heart bumped. She bent to pick up her son; Alf wrapped himself around her, watching Jim with interest.
‘Cassie’s a bucketful of trouble,’ she said. ‘This here’s my sensible one.’ She pressed a kiss onto Alf’s forehead. ‘He’s a bit big to be picked up now, but I’m making the most of it while he still lets me.’
‘I don’t blame you.’
That earned him a smile. ‘Are you touting for work? Mrs Brent already has a window cleaner.’
‘I heard you were moving and I’m here with my barrow, if you need it.’
The look on her face suggested refusal, but she hesitated and when she spoke, her voice was friendly. ‘Thank you. Mrs Watson has told me you do good turns for folk in need and that’s certainly me today.’
He felt ridiculously pleased. ‘The kindness of strangers.’
She nodded, accepting this. ‘I’m Mrs Nell Hibbert.’
Helen? Helena? She deserved a beautiful name. No chance of shaking hands while she was holding the child. ‘How do. Jim Franks.’
‘This is Alf.’
‘We’ve met. He’s got a pet monkey.’
Alf chortled. ‘She’s my sister.’
Mrs Hibbert – did he dare think of her as Nell? – put Alf down. ‘Tell Mrs Brent we’ve got help.’ As he vanished down the hallway, she added, ‘I’m sorry if I was abrupt. Things are rather fraught.’
‘It’s a big undertaking, moving house. I took the liberty of bringing a couple of tea chests and some boxes from the cardboard box factory on Beech Road.’
‘You don’t do your good deeds by halves, do you?’
‘Best way.’
Alf reappeared, dragging an older woman of a similar age to Mrs Watson. Her clothes looked loose, as if she had lost weight recently.
‘It’s the window cleaner,’ cried Alf, ‘and he’s brought his barrow.’ He made it sound like a golden carriage drawn by the finest horses.
‘Where are your belongings?’ Jim asked.
‘Upstairs.’
‘I’ll take the boxes up. Do you happen to have a strong young chap who can lend a hand?’ Alf bobbed up by his side. ‘Let’s see your muscles.’ Jim bent his elbow and clenched a fist. Alf copied and he made a show of testing the tiny muscle and being impressed. ‘Can you carry this cardboard box upstairs? Slowly, mind. There’s no time for falls and broken bones today.’
He shouldn’t have been shocked by how little they had, but he was. Clothing, bedding, some bits and pieces of crockery and cutlery. He tried to keep his expression neutral, but something must have shown.
‘We haven’t got much – as you can see.’ Nell’s voice was bright, but there was a steely edge to it, daring him to feel sorry for her. ‘We haven’t needed our own things, living here. I’ll go down the second-hand furniture shop on Beech Road this afternoon and see what I can get.’
‘I’ll go with you and ferry things back on my barrow.’
‘Don’t you have to get back to work? Mrs Watson says you spend Saturday helping the poor.’
‘I’ll do it another time. I’ve already told my morning calls.’
Her eyes were troubled, filled with second thoughts.
‘I know it seems odd,’ he said quickly, ‘my helping you like this, but since the war …’
‘Oh.’ Her face shone. ‘I’m the same. All my brothers – and my sister …’ She pressed a hand to her throat. ‘Sometimes the only way … I do summat for someone else and it’s like doing it for them.’
Her distress, though controlled, was audible. He wanted to take her in his arms, to offer comfort and understanding, one bereaved person to another, to give her someone to lean on. She shook her head and the moment vanished. She was all business.
‘Mrs Brent is letting us take this bed. Her daughter’s family is moving in and they’re bringing their own.’
‘I’ll take it apart. I’ve brought tools.’
‘I was going to do it myself.’
His face cracked into a grin. ‘I can see where your daughter gets it from.’
Before long, the room was empty, apart from the chest of drawers and the hanging cupboard. What was Nell thinking? Feeling? Sadness? Anger at having to make way for others? Impossible to tell.
‘I have to give the room a thorough clean before we go,’ was all she said. ‘There are things in the parlour and food in the kitchen. I went out early to buy it.’
In the parlour was an assortment of items: a bread bin, a small table, an oil lamp, two candlesticks – not a pair – a jug, a chipped platter, some dishes of varying styles, a three-legged stool, faded curtains, a posser, a pair of bellows.
‘All given by neighbours,’ said Mrs Brent. ‘Mrs Watson started it. Everyone tried to give something. I wish I’d thought of it.’
‘Cheer up. You’ll have your family round you before you know it. That’s what this is about, isn’t it?’
‘Obviously I want them here. It’s just that the Hibberts feel like family an’ all.’ She clapped a hand over her mouth. ‘Don’t let on to my daughter I said that. She’d be so hurt.’
Jim finished loading his barrow as Nell came downstairs.
‘I can’t take it all in one go,’ he said. ‘Let’s take this lot, then you and the children can stay in your new place while I come back for more.’
‘I haven’t finished the room yet. There’s the skirting boards to wash, and the picture rail, and the drawers ought to have fresh lining paper.’ She blew out a breath. ‘And we have to be away by twelve.’
Distress flickered across Mrs Brent’s face. ‘Me and Mrs Watson will finish the cleaning. Don’t argue. You’ve got enough to do.’
There was a charged moment as the two women gazed at one another, pain and sorrow raw in their faces. Jim hoped Mrs Brent was going to get endless pleasure from living with her family, because she was clearly paying a high price for it.
‘I’ll check the barrow,’ he said. ‘The kids can help.’
He took them outside and made sure everything was secure.
‘We’ve got a box of linen here, and that’s a box of food. Where’s the box with the monkey?’
‘I keep telling you,’ cried Alf. ‘She’s not a monkey.’
He scooped Cassie up and popped her into an empty box. ‘A special box for monkeys.’
‘Can I go in a box?’ begged Alf.
‘You can sit here.’ He lifted the boy onto the barrow, between the handles, so he was sitting with his legs dangling. ‘Now we just need your mum and we can go.’
Nell and Mrs Brent came outside, wiping away tears.
‘Look at me, Mummy,’
Alf called. ‘I’m riding on the barrow. It’s like when we left our other house and went on the horse and cart.’
She looked startled. ‘Do you remember that?’
‘If I’m in competition with a horse and cart,’ said Jim, ‘I’d best turn the barrow round and pull it. I’ll be the horse and you, Master Hibbert, are the driver, so I hope you’re going to be kind to poor old Neddy. Where to, Mrs Hibbert?’
‘Wilton Lane. Wouldn’t you rather push than pull?’
‘I won’t do any pulling until the driver says Giddy up.’
‘Giddy up, Neddy,’ yelled Alf.
As they went, Nell told him about the new house.
‘I’m getting it cheap because it has problems. After the last tenants moved out, there was a spell before the new family was meant to move in. Evidently there was a crack in the lead flashing round the chimney stack and water got in and because the house was empty, no one knew, so it got quite bad. When the new people arrived, they found one corner of the front bedroom ceiling had come down, so Mr Miles found them somewhere else.’
‘How bad is it?’
‘There’s the bedroom ceiling, and the wall is saturated, and part of the floor, and it soaked through into the parlour below. That ceiling hasn’t come down, but there are huge stains on the ceiling and down the wall. It’ll all be made good, but first it has to dry out.’ She glanced at him. ‘The other bedroom and the kitchen are fine. I wouldn’t take my children there if not.’ She huffed a sigh. It wasn’t a sorrowful sound, more a worried one. ‘I feel guilty. I want better for them.’
‘Give it time. Like you say, it’ll be repaired.’
‘Aye, and then the rent will go up. I’m sorry; I shouldn’t burden you, especially when you’re being so kind. Anyroad, if I’m guilty, I’m grateful too. Mr Miles came round himself and offered it. I can’t think how he knew. Mrs Watson, I suppose. Here we are.’
It was the same as every other terraced two-up two-down: front door with a step and a sash window beside it, another window above.
‘You go in,’ said Jim, ‘and I’ll unload.’
Unloading took no time at all. He tried hard not to find it pathetic. She would be outraged if she thought he felt sorry for her.
There was a musty smell.
‘Pooh.’ Alf wrinkled his nose.
‘That’s the damp,’ said Nell. ‘We’ll open the back door and the windows to let in fresh air. You’re allowed in the parlour, but you mustn’t go in the front bedroom. We’ll stand at the door and look at the damage, but you mustn’t go in there on your own.’
Jim stowed a few things in the cupboard under the stairs and carried the rest to the kitchen.
‘I can’t unpack anything until I’ve cleaned through,’ said Nell. ‘Even then, I have to wait till I’ve got furniture. All I can do for now is put the food in the pantry once I’ve cleaned the shelves.’
‘I’ll fetch the rest of your things.’
Was there time to run round to the coal merchant? The house needed fires as well as fresh air. Nell wouldn’t worry about an unexpected delivery of coal if she thought Mr Miles had organised it because the house needed drying out. No, there wasn’t time now, but Jim wouldn’t forget. He would order coal and tell Miles to say it was from the landlord.
Back in Finney Lane, Mrs Watson jollied along a tearful Mrs Brent. Jim loaded the remainder of the Hibberts’ belongings, except for the mattress, and returned to Wilton Lane.
Alf greeted him at the door. ‘Mummy says you’re just in time. She’s got the kettle on.’
The man from next door appeared and helped him carry the parts of the bed upstairs.
‘The lady next door popped round with a jug of milk,’ said Nell. ‘Wasn’t that kind?’
‘That were my wife,’ said the helper. ‘We’re the O’Rourkes.’
‘We could all do with a neighbour like Mrs O’Rourke,’ said Jim. ‘And like you.’
‘The kindness of strangers,’ said Nell. Her smile turned his heart over. ‘Can I offer you a cup of tea, Mr O’Rourke?’
‘No, I’ll leave you to it. Give me a knock if you need help putting the bed together,’ he added to Jim.
‘Thanks.’ He waited for the front door to close. ‘Looks like you’ve got good neighbours.’
She handed him his tea. He accepted it with exquisite care, determined not to brush her fingers.
‘Sorry I can’t offer you a seat,’ she said, ‘unless you fancy that little stool.’
‘There’s plenty of seats – at least, I think there are. Alf! Count the stairs. Are there enough for all of us?’
Alf flew off to perform the task. ‘We can have more than one each,’ he reported.
They sat on the stairs.
‘So she can sit still, then.’ Jim nodded at Cassie.
‘Make the most of it. It doesn’t last long.’
‘When d’you think you’ll finish unpacking? I’ll come and take the boxes away.’
‘Don’t forget we have to keep a box for Violet,’ said Alf.
‘I won’t,’ said Nell. ‘Violet’s the cat. She’s staying with Mrs Brent for now, because we’ll have to have the windows open to air the house.’
‘When Violet comes, she has to stay inside until she learns this is her new house,’ said Alf, ‘so she has to wait until we can shut the windows.’
‘Good luck putting Violet in a box,’ said Jim. ‘I hope you’ve got a suit of armour, young Alf.’
‘Violet came to Manchester in a basket and she was good as gold,’ said Nell, ‘though I doubt it’ll be so easy this time.’
‘Violet came in Mummy’s wicker basket,’ said Alf, ‘and Cassie came in the doctor’s black bag.’
A snort of laughter almost made Jim spit out his tea. Oh, that would have looked good, wouldn’t it, tea spewing out of his nose.
‘Alf, you don’t say things like that,’ said Nell.
The front door opened. ‘Knock-knock,’ called a woman’s voice and three middle-aged women and a younger one trooped in, carrying an assortment of mops and buckets. Nell sprang up. Jim crushed himself against the balusters to let her past before he came to his feet.
‘Elsie!’ she cried. ‘Mildred! What are you doing here?’
‘What does it look like?’ demanded their leader – Elsie? She brandished a mop. ‘We wanted to do summat for you in your new house.’
‘So that’s why you never stopped asking about my move.’
‘Aye,’ said Elsie. ‘I thought you’d never spill the address. We’ve brought carbolic and rags and soda crystals and when we’ve given the place a good going-over, we’ve got lavender polish.’
‘I haven’t got owt to polish yet,’ said Nell. ‘I’m getting furniture later.’
‘Fetch it now,’ ordered Elsie.
‘I can’t leave you doing the work.’
‘Do as you’re told. We’ve come to do a job and we’re not leaving till it’s done proper.’
‘Aye,’ said another, ‘and we’ve got husbands at home what are expecting their tea on’t table at the usual time, so we can’t hang about.’
Nell turned to Jim. ‘Would you mind if we went to the furniture shop now?’
‘I ought to fetch the mattress first. Time’s getting on.’
‘Aye-aye, the mattress?’ quipped one of the women.
‘That’s enough of that.’ Nell cast a warning glance in Alf’s direction. ‘This is Mr Franks, the window cleaner. He’s kindly helping us move in.’
She looked awkward, and more awkward still when a couple of her friends nudged one another. He couldn’t have her feeling uncomfortable. What if she decided he wasn’t worth the trouble? He came downstairs and waggled his eyebrows roguishly at the women.
‘Ladies, I am a single man.’
They tittered and the moment turned to a joke. He had established himself as a decent bloke doing his good deed for the day. Nell’s shoulders relaxed. Good. And not so good. He wanted to be more than that. Best if he got out of th
e way and let Elsie and her merry band get on with their task. Once they started on the cleaning, they would be too busy to make teasing remarks … he hoped.
‘C’mon, kids,’ he said. ‘Let’s go and fetch the mattress.’
‘I was dreading today,’ Nell told her friends. ‘Leaving a home where we’ve been happy and settled …’ She shook her head. ‘But you’ve come to lend a hand; and the neighbours have been kind; and as for Mr Franks …’ She turned to him. ‘What can I say? It’s the sort of thing my brothers would have done.’
The words were spoken as if this was the highest compliment she could bestow, and maybe it was. Jim was deeply touched, but at the same time, being compared to her brothers was the last thing he wanted.
‘You did say one of the good things about us coming here was that Posy would have a bed.’ Hilda sounded peevish. ‘You said that, Mother.’
Yes, Leonie remembered saying it, and she had meant it an’ all. ‘I thought, a little bed in the parlour. We could put it in the back corner, with furniture in front of it in case of visitors. Not that visitors use the parlour. We always sit in the kitchen.’
‘That’s the point, Mother-in-law.’ Where had Edmund sprung from? ‘The parlour is kept for best. You can’t have a bed in the room that’s used for best.’
‘Well …’ She needed time to think. This had been dropped on her with no notice.
‘So Posy will sleep with you. I thought that was what you wanted,’ said Edmund. ‘Didn’t you say you wanted her to sleep in a bed?’
Were they ganging up on her? Of course not. They assumed, with good reason, that Posy’s sleeping arrangements had been agreed, and now here she was, rocking the boat. Her gaze fell on Posy. She ought to be bonny and excited at moving house. Instead her eyes were anxious. Leonie bit her lip. Did Posy think she wasn’t wanted? Pushing past Edmund, she gathered her beloved granddaughter into her arms.
‘Of course you can sleep with me.’
‘If you prefer,’ said Edmund, ‘we could get a single bed for Posy and put it in your room, but it’ll be a squeeze.’
That made her feel worse. ‘Don’t be daft. We’ll be snug as two bugs in a rug, won’t we, Posy?’
A Respectable Woman Page 11