by Anne Bennett
‘What do you mean?’
Martha sighed. ‘Barney was hauled back to the office when the stuff was found, so he didn’t get on the bus with Sean and Tony, and that’s where they heard.’
‘Heard what?’
‘Heard that Barney has been stealing tools for months.’
‘Tools!’
‘Yeah, some of them are worth a pretty penny, so Sean says.’
‘No doubt, but what would anyone want with a load of tools?’ Maria asked. ‘And where are they? Not here, for sure.’
‘No, he sells them to a man down the Norton pub. That’s where the fellow overheard the two of them talking and was telling Sean. Anyway, this time when he was caught, he had tools in the bag too.’
‘He was lucky, wasn’t he, that they are not pressing charges?’ Maria said.
‘I’ll say,’ Martha said. ‘Point is, though, it will be hard for him to get anything else with that on his record and no reference.’
‘What are we to do, Martha? How are we to manage?’
‘Barney will have to go down the dole office and see about it,’ Martha said. ‘They will give you something because of the children and all. He’ll have to wait until Monday, of course. Have you enough to be going on with?’
‘Martha, all I have in my purse this minute is one and thruppence, for Barney gave me nothing before he left,’ Maria said. ‘I’ll have the Family Allowance on Tuesday, and all I can say is, thank God the Government raised it to eight shillings this year, so I’ll have sixteen shillings from that, but I don’t know how I’ll find the five shillings for Monday to pay for Sally’s school dinners.’
‘You might not have to,’ Martha said as she rooted in her bag. ‘I think if your husband is unemployed you get free dinners—or something off them, at any rate. But take this for now.’ She handed Maria a pound.
Maria shook her head. ‘I can’t take it from you, Martha.’
‘You can’t not,’ Martha said. ‘Think of the children. How can you feed them all weekend on one and thruppence? Unless, of course, you get more out of that bugger of a man you married.’
Maria knew Martha had a point. ‘Okay,’ she said, ‘I see what you say and I’m grateful to you, but I’ll not take a pound.’
‘I have more than enough.’
‘I don’t care,’ Maria said. ‘Leave me some vestige of pride, for God’s sake. It is all I have left and ten shillings is ample.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Quite sure, Martha. My children aren’t used to high-quality living and fancy fare,’ Maria said sadly.
Maria was told at the school on Monday morning that Sally could have free school meals if she brought in the documentation to prove Barney had no employment. Then she went back home to rouse him, for he was sleeping off the excesses of the weekend. The punch he threw at her split her lip, but her efforts had the desired effect and the man was out of bed at last, though like a raging bull because of it. Maria kept herself and the children out of his way as much as possible and didn’t really breathe easy until he was out of the house.
Later, she was to stare at him as if she couldn’t believe her ears. ‘Twenty-six shillings! Is that all?’
‘That’s it,’ Barney said. ‘And seven shillings extra for Sally.’
‘What about Theresa and Jack?’
‘The woman said you have Family Allowance for them. So we’ll get thirty-three shillings a week and that’s sixteen bob six pence for me and the same for you.’
‘You must be joking, Barney. For God’s sake, the rent is fifteen shillings, after that last rise.’
‘You only need to pay the part of that when you are unemployed.’
‘Even so, there’s money for coal and for the gas and electric meters as well as food. I can’t do it all on such little money.’
Barney gave a malicious grin. ‘You’ll have to, for you’ll not get a penny piece more.’
And then, because she was worried and angry, she forgot to be cautious. ‘Why should we all suffer because this situation is totally your own fault?’ she shrieked at him. ‘It wasn’t just a ball you had in your bag when you were stopped and searched, but tools too, and it wasn’t the first time either. You think you are so bloody clever and yet half the factory knew all about it.’
The punch hit her between the eyes and she staggered against the wall, her nose spurting blood. The children began to scream.
Barney looked from Maria to the distressed children. ‘Christ Almighty!’ he exclaimed. ‘A man would have to be mad to want any of this.’ He snatched his jacket from the hook and went out. It was left to Maria to try to calm the children and staunch the blood from her nose, less upset by Barney’s violence than she was about the realisation that she wouldn’t have money to care for the children properly.
The sound of the children crying with hunger and cold tore Maria apart, but she couldn’t make the money stretch, even though she was eating less than a sparrow herself. Often she hid from the rent man to buy food. Patsy would sometimes pop in after school before going home and she never went in empty-handed, for her mother had told her how little Maria bought each week at the shops.
‘Fine welfare state this is,’ Martha complained to Sean one night. ‘I thought they were supposed to look after you from the cradle to the grave. They’re not looking after Maria at all. If you saw what she buys to live on for a week, I tell you, Sean, ours would demolish it in one meal.’
‘Well, the money is not to buy luxury food,’ Sean said. ‘But it should provide the basics. No child should have to go hungry.’
‘But they are, and Maria looks ill. I popped in the other day and the house was so cold, my breath was coming out in whispery vapour. Our Patsy says it’s often like that. The point is, with rationing I can only do so much, and there is only so much she will take anyway. If she does ever agree to take any food from me, I think she gives it to the children.’
‘You’d do the same,’ Sean said. ‘Any mother would.’
‘I know, but—’
‘You know, it might not be the Government at fault here at all,’ Sean said. ‘It all depends on how much Barney gives her out of his dole.’
‘Ah, well, that’s it, isn’t it?’ Martha said ‘And she’d never tell us what he allows her. She has too much pride.’
Maria often felt as if she was on a treadmill and not going anywhere fast. Each week she would put two shillings out for the gas and the same for the electricity, try to put some aside for coal, and buy food with the rest. The rent was always the last consideration, so by Christmas she was seriously in arrears.
There would have been nothing at all in the children’s stockings that year if it hadn’t been for the kindness of Martha and Sean. Patsy bought for them too, and so did Tony, despite the fact that, as an apprentice his wages were small. Pooling the ration books together, with the generosity of Martha, ensured they all had plenty to eat and Maria sat at the end of the meal on Christmas Day and realised she felt full for the first time in weeks.
She barely saw Barney, she told Martha as they washed up, as he was out all day and at the pub all night. She preferred it that way. She didn’t know where he went, didn’t really care and she spoke to him as little as possible, glad he didn’t seem to expect her to provide food for him too. He still demanded sex regularly, whatever state he would come home in, and sometimes she had to resist the urge to push him away because she knew what might happen if she did that.
Barney, in fact, had got himself a nice little earner. MacKay owned a bookie’s and the night Barney had told him about the events at Dunlop’s, he offered him the job of bookie’s runner.
‘The last geezer has just been sent down for three months,’ he told Barney. ‘So you’ve got to keep your eyes peeled for the rozzers, like, but the job’s yours if you want it.’
Barney wanted it all right and the money was useful, especially as now he began to be hooked on horse racing as well as poker, where he could lose money just as effecti
vely.
All through the cold days of January, February and even into March, Maria took Theresa and Jack out when they couldn’t stand the cold in their house any longer, tucking them both in the pram to keep them warm. On very bleak or wet days, they would make for the library in Erdington, where it was warm and dry. Maria would read countless books to the children and for a little while they were able to forget their grumbling stomachs.
It was at the end of March that Patsy had an idea to put to Maria.
‘Dressmaking?’ Maria said doubtfully. ‘Do you really think I could make money with it?’
‘Course you could,’ Patsy said confidently. ‘Look at the great comments you got when people realised you had made the girls’ Communion dresses.’
‘Yes, but—’
‘No buts. You’ll not know until you try and, God knows, it is better than doing nothing.’
Maria had to admit that. It was just that when you were stuck in grinding poverty and constantly hungry, it was hard to think about anything other than the next meal, let alone get enthusiastic about anything.
‘I mean,’ Patsy went on, ‘after September, you will only have Jack at home.’
‘Aye,’ Maria said. She could hardly wait for Theresa to join her sister. At school she would have a third of a pint of milk each day, as well as a hot cooked meal. Then the worry would slide off her a little.
Patsy’s voice broke in on her thoughts. ‘Anyway,’ she said with a shy smile, ‘I want you to keep in practice because I want you to design and make my wedding dress.’
‘Your wedding dress!’
Patsy blushed as she said, ‘His name is Andrew Forrester and he is a teacher, like me, only he teaches maths in King Edward’s Grammar School in Aston. We were at college together, but didn’t want to start anything serious then. Anyway, we met again at a conference and decided we liked each other as much as we ever had. Andrew had moved to Birmingham for this job and we starting seeing each other. Just last night he asked me to marry him. We are choosing the ring on Saturday.’
‘Well, well you dark horse,’ Maria said. ‘All cut and dried, it seems, and I have never caught even a glimpse of him.’
‘I know,’ Patsy said. ‘It was all a bit sudden. Mom and Sean didn’t really meet him to talk to till yesterday evening, though of course they have seen him when he has picked me up when we were going out.’
‘Have you a wedding date set?’
‘Not yet,’ Patsy said. ‘We’re not in a desperate rush, and really a lot depends on the housing situation. I could hardly move into the flat Andrew rents with two other teachers.’
‘Hardly,’ Maria agreed.
‘Enough about me now, Maria,’ Patsy said. ‘Are you going to give this dressmaking a go?’
Maria was undecided. Her self-esteem was at an all-time low. She felt she was a lousy wife and a lousy mother, and at that moment she didn’t think she was a good dressmaker either—all right for the family, but not to sell to other people. She couldn’t do it.
The light dimmed suddenly and Maria said, ‘Hang on, I’ll put some money in the meter.’
But there was no money. Her frantic fingers scrabbled on the shelf, and she was desperately telling herself the coins had been pushed to the back, or perhaps fallen out on the floor. They hadn’t, however, and in the end she faced the realisation that the money was gone. She would give no prizes for guessing who had taken it. Now she faced a choice. She could either sink to the floor in abject misery and despair, and howl like an animal, which she longed to do, or she could square her shoulders and fight.
She took a deep breath, went back into the room and said, ‘OK, Patsy, what do we do about this and where on earth do I start?’
Martha, delighted that Maria was attempting to pull herself out of the mire, loaned her money to get her started, and minded Jack and Theresa while she went into the Bull Ring for the material. Adverts were put up in the newsagent’s shops just down the road from Maria’s, and the church hall at the abbey, and Patsy did a good job of passing the word around. Gradually the work came in. It was Communion dresses she was in demand for at first. Each one was unique as Maria would first ask what the mothers wanted and then do a few sketches before starting on the material. The trickle became a flood as other mothers saw and were often amazed by the finished articles.
Maria was happier than she could remember being in a long time. Turning raw material into something beautiful always soothed her; actually to be paid for it, so that she could put food on the table and buy coal for the fire, was wonderful. But she was careful. She hid the amount of food she bought, buying only so much a day. She never left money lying about again and carried her purse with her at all times. Barney knew nothing about it because the sewing was done in the bedroom and all sign of it tidied away by the evening, when he might be home for a few hours.
The first thing Maria did was to pay Martha back. The next was to pay off her rent arrears, so that by the time the new Queen Elizabeth was crowned in Westminster Abbey on 2 June, Maria was debt free. She felt it was a new era in her life too. She had felt her self-confidence seeping back, and Martha thought it was marvellous to see her cheerful smile again and hear her laughter. She mentioned it to her when she arrived to see the Coronation on the television set Sean has bought to mark the occasion and they were making tea for everyone.
‘I do feel good,’ Maria said. ‘Wonderful, in fact. Can actually feel we have a future—me and the children, anyway. Oh, I know there is still Barney, but he is in so little these days I see him less than I would a lodger.’
‘He stays long enough to get you pregnant on a fairly regular basis,’ Martha commented drily.
‘How do you know?’ Maria said. ‘I’m not showing yet.’
‘I told you before there is a sort of bloom about you. How do you feel about it, anyway?’
‘I’m delighted,’ Maria said. ‘I don’t care how many children I have as long as I have the money to care for them properly, and now I have.’
There was a sudden roar from Sean. Martha said, ‘Come on, it must be starting. We wouldn’t want to miss anything. Can you manage that tray?’
The streets of London were gilded in gold and silver, bedecked with flowers and filled with cheering crowds of people lining the route the royal coach would take. Not even the unseasonable cold and drizzly rain could dampen their enthusiasm.
Watching them even stirred something in Maria, and she was able to feel a sense of pride in her adopted country, which was at that moment riding high. The Korean War, much to Martha’s relief, was drawing to a close, Edmund Hillary had climbed Everest, the highest mountain in the world, just a day before, and now a new Elizabethan age was to be born. No wonder the nation was called Great Britain.
The young and very beautiful queen stepped into the abbey and the multitudinous noise of the crowds outside could still be heard. She had a diadem of precious stones on her head and a royal robe, which the commentator explained was of crimson velvet trimmed with gold lace. The long, heavy, exquisitely decorated train was carried by six maids of honour, all dressed in gowns of white and gold.
Then the robe and diadem were removed and the Queen stood alone, just clothed in a garment of plain linen to be anointed by the Archbishop, while music, said to be Handel’s Messiah, swelled about the church. Elizabeth knelt for the blessing and to receive the bracelets of sincerity and vision before approaching the throne. When the heavy crown was taken from the altar and placed upon her head, a collective sigh went around all those watching in Martha’s house.
The rest of the day was given up to merriment. Street parties had been organised, though the weather meant it took place in the abbey church hall. Even so, a fine time was had by all. Maria took her tired children home at a fairly decent hour, but she was told later the parties had gone on till the early hours.
Maria had to get back to work the next day. The First Communion day was in just over a fortnight and she had a couple of dresses to finish.
But it had been quite lucrative and she wondered for a moment if she could afford Irish dancing lessons for Sally. She knew the child longed to be able to go. Deirdre had been going to the lessons on Saturday afternoon at the abbey church hall for over a year now, and she demonstrated what she had learnt the previous day on Sunday after Mass. The girls would practise all week. Deirdre had been disappointed that Sally couldn’t join her, but Sally wasn’t stupid and had accepted it without whining when Maria said she hadn’t any spare money for dancing lessons.
Now there was, but Maria wouldn’t tell her just yet. She knew there was bound to be a lull in the dress orders once the Communions were over, and she wanted to know, before there were dancing lessons to pay for, just how much work she would pick up on a day-to-day basis.
However, Maria picked up work all through the summer, although some of it was repairs—replacing broken zips or altering dresses. There was also betterpaid work, like making outfits for weddings and special parties. Maria was very careful with the money she earned, knowing it could dry up at any time, and she hoarded it in a box she had hidden under the mattress.
Theresa joined her sister at the Abbey School in the autumn and Maria accepted the fact that now that Theresa wasn’t at hand to watch and play with her little brother, any major sewing would have to wait until the evening. She was sure, however, she could manage to go on some time yet, for the baby wasn’t due till the middle of December and she had money enough to last a few weeks without earning, until she was on her feet again.
Maria returned to the house one day in late November after leaving the children up at the school and was astounded to find the front door ajar. She normally went in the back way, but she pushed the front door open cautiously. Jack was clamouring to get out of his pushchair, so she unstrapped him and took him in her arms, putting her finger to her lips. Had someone broken in? But then why would they? She hadn’t anything worth stealing.
It must be Barney, she decided, and she called out, but there was no answer. There was no one in the living room or the kitchen. Holding Jack’s hand, she went up the stairs, laboriously because the baby lay heavily on her now.