by Annie Murray
‘Yes, he was my stepfather.’ She could barely raise her voice above a whisper. It felt impossible, crushing, as if the whole world was listening. ‘He came to live with us after our dad died. And … and… ’ She was weeping then, unable to speak.
‘Oh, darling.’ Sylvia’s arm came round her shoulders. Eventually it gave her the courage to go on.
‘He wasn’t a father to us. He interfered with us. Both of us. But my sister, Sal, most of all.’
The sobbing took over, wrung out of her. Sylvia cradled her in her arms and Maryann was conscious of her head being pressed against Sylvia’s shoulder, of motherly, comforting noises, of feeling warm and safe. All she could do was to cry and cry. She couldn’t go on speaking, telling it all. Not tonight. But she had lifted the edge of the mask, allowed a chink of light into her darkness. She knew she could go on now. Tell them more, and at last be able to take what seemed the hardest step of all: telling Joel.
She had spoken.
Forty-Eight
‘Time to come and get scrubbed up!’
Maryann was ready with the dipper on the table, full of steaming water. They were at Sutton Stop and all six children were out on the bank, among a gaggle of others having conker fights. They were so engrossed in bashing each other’s conkers they didn’t hear her, and Joel went to hurry them along.
‘Boys first!’
Joley and Ezra groaned. ‘Do we have to?’
Maryann set about washing and dressing them, tutting as the pockets in the boys’ trousers and girls’ frocks yielded up stashes of the horse chestnuts, polished shiny as leather, and a couple still encased in their prickly shells.
‘D’you have to pick up all these? It’s not as if they’re on the ration.’
‘But the others’ll get ’em if we don’t,’ Ezzy yelled urgently. And then there won’t be none left.’
‘Don’t shout – I’m not deaf.’ Maryann scrubbed at Ezra’s soot-begrimed cheeks. ‘And I don’t want any of them conkers in the church, d’you hear?’ She attempted to get a comb through his dark curls as he squirmed and moaned. The girls were waiting on the back bed.
‘Are we wearing our new frocks now?’ Sally asked.
‘That you are – and once you’ve got them on, don’t flaming move in them until the wedding’s over!’
‘Oh, Mom!’
‘Is Sylvia putting hers on now?’ Rose wanted to know.
‘Yes – and she’s helping Dot. Oh keep still, Ezzy – it’s like trying to comb a hedgehog.’
For the past month, every spare moment had been spent sewing. Sylvia, who was very good at it, had taken over the problem of dressing everyone for the wedding. In the last two weeks of the school holidays she had introduced Kay and Dickie to life on the cut, and they had evidently taken to it with enthusiasm. Fetching them had also given her an opportunity to go home and collect some of her belongings. She was a keen seamstress and had found a generous length of pretty blue cotton with trailing daisies on, and devised a simple pattern to make dresses for the Bartholomew girls.
‘Oh, I wish I could’ve brought my sewing machine!’ she said. ‘It’s at home, but it’s so heavy. I’ll have to get hold of it later. But never mind – we can handsew.’ She showed a nervous Maryann how to make the little girls’ frocks up, while she concentrated on the other dresses, as well as making outfits for the boys. She had a marvellous collection of material at home, accumulated over years, including a yellow flowery fabric for outfits for herself and Maryann.
‘I was going to make this up just before the war,’ she mused, lifting the corner of the bright, sunny cloth. ‘Somehow I didn’t have the heart. I think the colour was too happy for me!’
For Dot’s wedding dress she managed to acquire something highly prized from her favourite draper’s. Parachute silk!
‘This is going to be a fancy wedding,’ Maryann laughed, seeing it all. ‘We aren’t used to all this.’
Everyone was gathered at Hawkesbury now: the Bartholomews with the Esther Jane and a new Barlow butty boat called Jonquil. Sylvia and Dot were tied up behind them and Bobby’s family, the Jenkses, were there too. Word had passed also to Joel’s brother Darius that there was a celebration in the offing and they were hoping he might arrive in time.
Sylvia appeared in the doorway of the Esther Jane, still in her old slacks, hair turbaned up in a scarf. Maryann had managed to finish off the boys and made them sit down with ‘Don’t move and don’t get dirty!’ ringing in their ears.
‘Aah!’ Sylvia exclaimed, seeing Maryann put Sally’s dress on over the child’s head. Her long blonde hair was newly washed and brushed and she looked very pretty. ‘I knew it would match your eyes, Sally. You’re a picture! You and Rose will make perfect bridesmaids.’ Seated on the coalbox, she reached out and squeezed Sally’s hand. ‘It fits very nicely, Maryann – you’ve done so well.’
‘It’s a blooming miracle.’ Maryann laughed. ‘I’ve never been any good at sewing. How’s Dot? She dressed yet?’
‘No – I’m going to go and help her in a few minutes. Just thought I’d see how you were getting on. Dot’s having a wash. Poor darling – you might not think it, but she’s really very worked up and nervy this morning. It’s good that we got shot of Bobby to the Jenkses’ last night – just gives us all a bit of breathing space. And I suspect he’d have been in even more of a flap than her!’
‘There.’ Maryann finished combing out Sally’s hair. She was pleased to see a smile on her daughter’s face. The life was gradually coming back to her over these months. ‘Rose, you next!’ She nodded towards Ada and Esther, on the bed, who were watching with rapt expressions. ‘Goodness knows how I’m going to keep those two out of the muck once they’ve got their finery on!’
The boats set out in convoy along the cut to Longford. Summer was waning, but the leaves were only just beginning to turn, and Maryann caught a whiff of smoke from a garden fire as they chugged along. In the hedgerows were sprays of ripe blackberries and Maryann grimaced, standing at the tiller of the Jonquil, imagining all that magenta juice down the front of her offspring’s new clothes if they were to catch sight of them later on the bank. She had on her own yellow frock, and, as ever, wore Nancy’s gold hoops in her ears. The outfit made her feel very smart and happy, but for the moment she had put her coat over the top to try and keep the coal dust at bay. Dot and the children were all safely inside their respective cabins, keeping well protected.
Maryann glanced at the line of boats behind her and smiled. The sun was coming out and the boats were decked out with as many pots and jars of flowers as they had been able to find on the cabin roofs beside the bright roses and castles on the water cans and dippers. All the boats had been washed and their rope work and Turks’ heads were a miracle of whiteness in the sunshine, after a good scrubbing with cut water. At the back of the line they had been joined in the nick of time by Darius’s pair, with his crew and the boys, Darrie and Sean.
They tied up at Longford in a colourful, celebratory line. Maryann swiftly went indoors to take off her coat and tidy her hair. Sylvia had given it a trim for her and it felt clean and bouncy, curling at the ends and pinned stylishly back.
‘Now you lot – ’She managed to drag the comb once more through the children’s hair and smiled proudly at them. It was a long time since she’d seen her boys so smart. Joley with his thick blond mop and Ezra very dark.
‘You look like princes,’ she told them.
‘Oh, Mom,’ Joley groaned, disgusted, ‘can us go now?’
Rose and Sally, equally contrasting in looks, and being self-consciously careful with their clothes, were next out, tiptoeing along the plank, and then Maryann led the twins out. Ada’s leg had healed from her burning, but she would be scarred for life, and the look of the ruckled patch of skin was a bitter one for Maryann every time she saw it.
Joel was waiting on the bank, as proud and upright as his sore back would allow, his beard trimmed and wearing his ancient ‘Sunday best’, whic
h included an old jacket of his father’s. He came to help the twins out and Maryann looked across at him as he took their hands, seeing him afresh for a moment. She knew he was still struggling with the terrible things she had at last told him about her past. Part of his hurt was that she had kept it all from him for so long. But she also knew that he was solid and true, that she knew him so well and trusted him, and that they would endure.
‘When’s Dot coming out?’ Rose demanded.
‘In her own time,’ Joel told her. ‘Come on, little ’un – your dad’s tied up back here. Come and see him.’
Rose greeted her father shyly, and when he went to lift her up she said, ‘Don’t get me dirty!’ in a panicky voice. So Darius knelt down and talked to her instead. She was shy with her brothers too, but Joley and Ezra were soon tearing up and down with Darrie and Sean and Maryann knew Rose would come round eventually.
‘You all right, Darius?’ she asked, tender towards him. She missed Nancy so much – how much worse it must be for him!
He nodded, pushing his hat back from over his eyes. His striking, chiselled face was beginning to look more like old Darius’s, with its deep clefts and lines wrought by weather and by the grief of losing Nancy. And he looked dirty and exhausted from a rushed trip, trying to get here on time.
They exchanged bits of news: Joel and Maryann had not long been to Oxford and they told Darius that his father and Aunt Alice were both in good health.
‘Better get in and clean myself up,’ Darius said, after a time. ‘The bride’ll’ve left without us, else.’
Bobby and the rest of the Jenks family went ahead to the church. The others waited on the bank for Dot to make her appearance. Rose kept peering round at the back of the Magpie, trying to see what was going on.
‘Can I go in?’ she asked repeatedly.
‘No, you stay out here,’ Maryann said, wondering how much longer she could restrain Ada and Esther. She and Joel were each holding one of them to keep them from dabbling in every bit of muck and mess around. As they stood there, the sunshine grew brighter and it became quite warm.
The Magpie’s hatch slid back and Sylvia came out first in her sunny yellow dress, lovely as a flower herself. Then everyone ‘oohed’ as Dot followed her and stood before them, blushing more bashfully than Maryann had ever seen her, sheathed in her silk dress, which emphasized her considerable curves, her nut-brown arms protruding from the short sleeves. Her black hair was pinned in a knot at the back and topped by a little cream skull cap which Sylvia had somehow managed to fashion as well. The children all stood suddenly silent, in awe.
‘Oh, Dot!’ Maryann exclaimed. ‘You look lovely! Sylvia, how did you manage to make all these things, just in there?’
‘Well – we managed.’ Sylvia laughed. ‘By hook or by crook.’
‘You all look like three pretty flowers together,’ Joel said, and Maryann was touched by this rare romantic outburst from her husband.
‘Well,’ Dot said, ‘this might be the last chance I ever get to dress up properly, so it’s jolly nice to be able to do it in style! Now – what about my little bridesmaids? You both coming along with me?’
Sally and Rose came timidly forward.
‘Aren’t you both beautiful?’ Dot said, making them smile, pleased with themselves. ‘Now, don’t be scared. We’ve all got to manage this together.’ She took their hands, and everyone set off for the church.
Maryann walked with Sylvia, holding Ada’s hand.
‘Who’s that then?’ Sylvia nodded towards Darius and his sons.
‘Oh – you’ve not met, have you? That’s Darius – Joel’s brother.’
They caught up and Maryann introduced them.
‘Sylvia’s been ever so good to your Rose,’ she told him.
Darius shook her hand, shyly touching his cap and clearing his throat. He wasn’t used to the volunteers yet, not having worked with any.
‘I’m ever so fond of little Rose,’ Sylvia told him. ‘She’s a real poppet. You must miss her terribly.’
Darius nodded. ‘We do. It’s been a while now and the lads miss her. But our Rose’s better off with a woman to see to her.’
They all filed into the cool darkness of the church. Bobby was waiting at the altar, his thick hair slicked as far down as it would stay, looking smart and solemnly nervous. As soon as he caught sight of Dot moving along the aisle towards him on Joel’s arm, though, an unstoppable grin spread across his face.
Sally and Rose both looked round at Maryann, needing reassurace as they followed on, and Maryann smiled at them, full of pride. What a picture they made! She filled up with mixed emotions. Most of the time she tried never to think about what might have happened to Sally had they not rescued her when they did, but sometimes she was overwhelmed by still having her with them and safe.
Joel slipped into the pew beside her with Ada and Esther. As Dot and Bobby began to say their vows, she felt him glance at her. She knew they were both remembering their wedding day, which seemed so long ago now. How much had happened! Her heart was scarred by some of the worst times; losing their little Harry, the awful thing she had done to their last child when she just couldn’t stand any more, almost losing Sally, and her own pain and confusion. That was not over, even now: it would take time to emerge from, like a dark, confusing forest, because the hurt in her went so deep.
As the vows were pronounced in the shadowy church, Maryann felt Joel gently take her hand and squeeze it. She didn’t look round at him, but with her own hand answered his gentle pressure. We’re still here, whatever, that loving squeeze seemed to say. Aren’t we?
Forty-Nine
A bird was singing, so that lying in the dark cabin Maryann could tell it was dawn.
She lay wide awake beside Joel’s sleeping body, listening to the day coming to life.
Back to work, she thought, with a sense of deflation. These times of rest and celebration were always over so quickly, and then it was back to the grind. Dot wouldn’t be wearing a silk dress today or any day from now on. She knew that her yellow frock and the girls’ daisy ones would soon be pressed into everyday service and become as worn and grubby as the rest, and it seemed sad how quickly their day of finery had passed.
But she smiled at the thought of Dot and Bobby. At how they used to squabble. But they did go well together, she could see now, like bread and cheese. And the Jenks family, though at first bewildered by their son’s choice of wife, had seen Dot’s good nature and enormous capacity for hard work, and had taken to her in a shy sort of way.
‘Least she’s got a proper name now,’ Bobby joked, when they came out of the church into hot sunshine and the children showering them with their collection of flower petals. Dorothy Higgs-Deveraux had become plain Dot Jenks and she seemed quite content with the transaction.
Maryann ran over the day in her mind: her children looking so clean and smart for once, the solemnity of the service, and after – eating and drinking together at the boats, having gathered all the food and drink they could muster, the enjoyment of being able to sit and relax, merry with ale, celebrating outside. She ran her eyes over the faces in her memory. Dot full of happiness and laughter, Bobby grinning as if he still could not believe his luck, Sylvia … She ground to a halt on Sylvia. Something had caught her attention, but she hadn’t identified it at the time. The expression in Sylvia’s eyes when she sat out on the grass, talking to Darius. It was something familiar … With a jolt she matched up what she had seen. Nancy, the first time she had met Darius. That irresistible drawing of the eyes to Darius, in fascination, attraction … Was that really what she’d seen, or was she mistaken?
And last night, when it was all over and they were dropping with fatigue, she bedded down the older children in the Jonquil, as was her habit now, keeping only Ada and Esther with them on the Esther Jane, end to end on the side bed.
Joel turned to her in the cosy light of the cabin as they prepared for bed, his eyes solemn, appealing to her. Maryann tensed immed
iately. Is this what he expects now? she thought. For everything suddenly to be all right again?
‘I don’t know.’ To her frustration she began to tremble. ‘I don’t know if I can yet. I’m trying, but…’
‘I know you are.’ He stroked her cheek with his thumb. ‘Never mind that. Just come here.’
She felt herself enfolded in his arms, held close to that warm, fleshy, comforting body, which she knew like her own, and felt him stroke her back, his lips brushing the top of her head.
‘It’s all right,’ he murmured. ‘There’s time aplenty.’
They lay down together and once more he drew her into his arms, demanding nothing more than to hold her. She lay with her cheek pressed to his shoulder as he stroked her hair, both of them growing drowsy.
‘It’s all right, my lovely,’ was the last thing she heard him say. ‘It’ll be all right.’
And sheltering in his warmth she felt herself drift into sleep, safe, comforted. Home.
Glossary
bow-hauling – pulling a boat, usually a butty, into a lock by hand
breast-up – tie boats side by side, at night, or in some cases when going into locks empty
butty, butty boat – a narrowboat which is not powered, but towed as one of a pair
cratch – a small timber and tarpaulin covering at the fore end of the hold
the cut – any canal
dipper – large metal vessel with a handle, used for washing, cooking and laundry
joey – unmotorized narrowboat without living accommodation or covering for cargo. Pulled by horse or tug and usually used for short trips around Birmingham
joshers – slang name for boats belonging to the company of Fellows, Moreton & Clayton, after Mr Joshua Fellows
lengthsman – employee of the Waterways, whose job is to maintain the ‘length’ of the canals, e.g. keeping clear of trees etc