by Anne Brear
“Oh, that is a shame.”
“Thank you for the tea.” Aurora scuttled to the door, her face aflame once more with shame.
“Just knock if you need anything. The door’s always open,” Lily called after her as she ran across the cobbles and into number nine. She shut the door and leaned against it. Oh God. Her hands shook. In fact she trembled all over.
The smell of damp filled her nose and she shivered. The dark recess of the passageway depressed her and for a wild moment she wanted to run back to the warmth of Lily’s house. Instead, she climbed the stairs, took off her coat and shoes and went to bed. Perhaps she could sleep her life away.
When she woke again the bedroom was completely dark. Confused, it took her a minute to readjust to where she was. Grabbing her coat and shoes she made her way downstairs to find the front room just as cold and dark as the bedroom. She walked into the kitchen and was surprised to find a cheery fire burning and the subtle smell of something cooking. On the table was a note.
On the stove is some of Mrs Flannigan’s hotpot.
There is enough wood to last the night and I
brought home a candle and some tea leaves.
In the morning we might go shopping.
Sophia
Aurora spied a box of utensils on the floor and quickly unpacked it and set the table for herself. She added more wood to the fire and gloried in the heat radiating out, although if she moved only a few feet from the stove, the intense cold soon sent her back to the fire. In spite of it being summer this house was permanently cold. She lit the candle for extra light and took the pot off the hotplate. From a chipped bowl, she ate her simple meal. Reading the remains of the newspaper Sophia had used to light the fire provided a diversion from her dismal surroundings while she ate.
After two cups of tea and a belly full of delicious meaty hotpot, she felt more herself. Her scalp itched for the need of washing and probably lice, but the bucket of water in the scullery was nearly empty and she had no idea how to get more. A child shouted from somewhere in the lane and there was an answering crack and a yell from a man. The darkness outside and the rain hitting the window made her aware how alone she was. They didn’t have a clock and so unable to tell the time, she wondered how long it would be before Sophia came back.
The house creaked and suddenly scared, she decided to go back to bed. Despite sleeping most of the day and evening she was still tired and after her meal, the biggest she’d eaten in days, and the cups of tea, she felt replenished for the first time in a long while, but the sluggishness of her mind remained and all she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and hide.
The routine of sleeping most of the day and night became normal for Aurora as the days drifted by without affecting her. Most times when she woke, Sophia was at work and a note would be on the table. Aurora ate whatever food was supplied and then returned to bed. She lost track of time and days. Sometimes she’d hear knocking on the door, but ignored it. Other times the sounds of the neighbors and street noise would disturb her and she’d listen to people going about their normal routines, but never once did she want to join them. She didn’t wash or change her clothes. Her hair became matted and lank. She used the piss pot and left it for Sophia to empty, not caring about the stink. The bedroom became her world, her hell, and Sophia’s growing mutterings mostly went unheard and unanswered.
By the morning of the end of the second week, the periodic rain ceased and the skies cleared to a brilliant blue. Aurora woke and stared around the room washed in sunlight. She jumped and smothered a scream at the sight of an enormous rat sitting in the corner, its beady black eyes staring back at her. Terrified, she huddled in the bed, wondering if Sophia was in the house. She opened her mouth to call out, but the rat ran out of the bedroom door.
The thought of getting out of bed and going downstairs with a rat loose in the house petrified her, but she needed to use the pot and her stomach grumbled for food.
Gathering her courage, she dragged on her coat that she’d thrown over the end of the bed the night before and slipped her feet into her shoes. Inch by inch she crept downstairs, her eyes wide looking for any evidence of the vermin. She found Sophia downstairs cooking bacon on the stove. At some point she’d cleaned the little kitchen window and sunlight streamed in, banishing most of the gloom but it also showed up the room’s dreariness in stark relief.
“You’re up? I hope you’re hungry.” Sophia forked out strips of bacon onto two plates.
“Yes, thank you.” Relieved she made it without encountering the furry beast, Aurora sat at the table. “There was a rat in the bedroom.” She shivered in disgust.
“Huh, is there any wonder? This place is a haven for them I should imagine. I don’t have time for cleaning it as much as it needs.” Sophia shrugged, using the back of her hand to swipe at her hair. She looked awful, her eyes watery and her nose red.
“Are you ill?”
“A slight cold.” Sophia turned away to bark out a cough that seemed to scrape at her chest.
“You should stay in the house today.”
“I can’t. It’s nothing. I got caught in the rain a few nights this week, that’s all.”
“Well, go back to bed for a while before you start work.”
“I wish I could, but I’m doing Eddie’s accounts for him regularly each morning now for extra money.”
“Oh.” Aurora blinked. She had no idea what Sophia did in the mornings before her shift started at three o’clock. “I didn’t hear you coughing in the night.”
“That’s because I slept downstairs on the old sofa in the front room. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
Astonished by her selflessness, Aurora stared. “But it’s freezing in there.”
“I was all right.”
“I beg to differ. Without adequate covering you would have been very cold and now you’re sick.” Anger and guilt made her snap. She poured out two cups of tea, surprised to see milk in a small jar and sugar in a cracked bowl. “You’ve been to the shops?”
“Not properly. Mrs Flannigan has been giving me odds and ends from the pub’s kitchen until we can sort ourselves out.”
“This smells good.”
“I haven’t been eating that much lately, didn’t have an appetite. But I woke up this morning and was hungry. So, I went out early and bought a couple of things.” After putting the empty pan in the scullery, Sophia sat down on the opposite side of the small square table. Her dark hair was tied in a bun and she wore a brown skirt and cream blouse. She looked smart and tidy and Aurora frowned, she’d not been aware of the transformation. But then, she’d not been aware of anything for a long time.
Sophia cleared her throat, not meeting Aurora’s gaze. “I thought that if you were willing, we’d go and buy a few things. Make the house more livable.”
“I suppose we must if we are to live here.”
“You want to leave?” Sophia paused in cutting up her bacon. “Of course I don’t blame you for wanting to go home.”
“I’m not going home. I told you, I cannot return and hurt them. That part of my life is over. I can never go back. They are all better off without me.” A dull ache hit her chest whenever she thought of her family, of Reid.
“As you wish.” Sophia turned away to wipe her nose.
Thoughtful, Aurora stirred her tea. For some reason, perhaps it had something to do with the sunshine, she didn’t know, but she knew she’d turned a corner in some respect. She couldn’t continue sleeping the days away like she’d been doing. Although the prospect of living here made her quake, she knew there was no other option.
Pushing her half –finished breakfast away, Sophia left the table to blow her nose in the scullery. Aurora felt the stirrings of worry. She looked like Winnie did at Easter when she was ill. “I think you should go back to bed,” she told Sophia when she came back into the room.
“I can’t, not today. Big Eddie is away at the breweries this morning and we’re expecting a delivery. I’ve go
t to go.” She took a last sip of her tea, ignored her food and reached for her brown coat lying on the back of her chair. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Aurora nodded and watched her leave the house. Someone in the street was singing and a baby cried in one of the houses, but Aurora felt dreadfully alone. She rose to go back to bed, but hesitated, knowing that she had to break this cycle. But what to do? The thought of going outside filled her with dread. Loud knocking on the front door made her jump.
“Aurora!”
Recognizing Lily’s voice from number 10, she hurried to open the door. Lily held Sophia in her arms, keeping her upright.
“What’s happened?” She helped Lily to get Sophia inside.
“I don’t know. I was sweeping me front step and saw her collapse at the corner. She was coughing badly.”
“I’m all right, really.” Sophia’s face was a gray mask with a shiny red nose.
“No, you’re not. You’re going to bed and no arguments.” With Lily’s assistance they started upstairs.
“I’ve got work to do.” Sophia’s weak protest was followed by a bout of harsh coughing.
“Not today you don’t. Eddie will understand and Mrs Flannigan will have to cope.” They got her onto the bed and Aurora took off her shoes and tucked her under the blankets. “Rest now. I’ll make you some tea.”
Downstairs, Aurora fiddled with the fire, hoping it had enough heat to boil the kettle. It didn’t. She wrung her hands in despair.
“You’ve never looked after yourself before, have you?” Lily asked from the doorway.
Humiliation sent a blush up her neck to burn her cheeks. “No.”
Lily gently pushed her aside and fed sticks to the fire and then when they were alight added small pieces of coal. “Don’t let the heat get down too low if you know you’re going to cook on it later. Otherwise it takes a lot of coal to get the heat back up.” Lily went into the scullery and washed the teacup in the bucket. “Coal is good to bank the fire with if you’re going out to the shops. It’s much better and cheaper than wood, but it’s also dirtier, which means we have to clean more.”
“I see.” Aurora nodded, praying she’d remember these facts. Simple tasks were suddenly overwhelmingly difficult.
“Get into the habit of going to the street tap every morning and filling two buckets of water. Me Dad does this for me before going to work. On Mondays when everyone is washing, there’s a queue for water. Best bet is to go as early as you can.” Lily set out the tea things. “Do you have a tray?”
“I’ve no idea.”
Hands on hips, her neighbor glared at her. “Does Sophia take care of everything as well as go out to work?”
“I’ve been ill myself.” Shame and misery bowed her shoulders. “No, that is not true. I’ve been hiding, wallowing in self-pity.”
“Why?”
“Because my life has become intolerable.”
“We don’t all have perfect lives. I don’t see what makes you so special you can use your mother this way. You should be grateful you have a mother.”
“I have two actually.”
Lily’s eyes widened. “Two?”
Sagging into a chair, Aurora told her briefly about her life.
“I thought you were a toff from the way you speak and your clothes. I told me Dad you were and he said I should stay away, as you’d not want to mix with the likes of us in this street.”
“I’m glad you haven’t stayed away.” Aurora smiled and she meant it.
“I’m happy to be your friend, but the others might blow hot and cold on you. They wouldn’t want someone in their lane looking down their noses at them.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“Sometimes people like you can’t help it. It’s bred in.”
Aurora thought of Julia and nodded in understanding. Julia would rather die than talk to someone beneath her. As far as Julia was concerned the working class only existed to serve her. They were nameless and faceless people.
“So you can’t go back home because you’re to have a baby?”
“Yes, and please keep it to yourself. I’d bring disgrace to my whole family if they found out. I will not do that to them.”
Lily chuckled. “I’m not likely to meet them, am I?”
“No, of course.” Aurora shook her head, feeling completely foolish. Once, not long ago she would have considered herself clever and educated in many ways, but within twenty-four hours of leaving home she knew she’d been mistaken. She knew nothing of the outside world. Oh, she knew how to speak French, play the piano, what were the countries of the British Empire, how to embroider a fine scene onto a tablecloth, how to treat guests and converse about mundane events in the social calendar, but she didn’t know how to light a fire, cook a meal, wash clothes, buy food and the thousand other things needed to survive life without a wealthy father or husband to provide for her.
Lily poured the hot water from the kettle into the teapot. “Well then, as I see it, you’ve got to make the best of what you have here.”
“It’s not so easy.”
“Nonsense. If you look for excuses you’ll find them, but that won’t help you, will it?” She gave Aurora a cheeky smile. “As they say, sink or swim isn’t it?”
“I suppose so.”
“Take it from me, swimming and surviving is better than drowning. I can’t swim a stroke but if I fell into the water I know I’d make it to land somehow. Sheer bloody mindedness probably.” Lily grinned and passed Aurora the cup. “Take that upstairs and then we’ll start cleaning this place up. And you should meet the women in the row. They’re a nosy lot, but with hearts of gold.”
When Aurora returned downstairs after Sophia had fallen asleep, she found Lily, wearing an apron over her large stomach, washing up the breakfast things in the scullery, and felt instantly guilty. “Leave that, Lily, please.”
“What, so they be left to pile up for Sophia when she comes back down. I don’t think so.”
“No, no, I wouldn’t do that.”
“But you have been, haven’t you?” She wiped her hands on a bit of a rag that passed as a towel. “I don’t know how you’ve lived with yourself, letting her take care of you as if you were a bairn or an invalid or summat.”
“I know and I’m ashamed.” Aurora shrugged helplessly. “I couldn’t face it all. I wanted to die.”
Lily looked at her as if she spoke a foreign language. “Die because you no longer have a nice home and fancy clothes?” She snorted with condescension. “Welcome to how the rest of us live, Miss Pettigrew.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No good saying sorry.” Lily strode out of the scullery and into the kitchen. “I’m happy to help you, but you’ve got to want to do it an’ all.”
“I do.”
“Really?” Lily didn’t hide her doubts.
“Yes.” Aurora gazed around the dingy kitchen that even the sunshine couldn’t make pleasant and knew something had to change. “Circumstances have forced me to lead this life and so I shall.” She squared up her shoulders, feeling better and more confident about the future than she had in weeks.
“Right then. Let’s get scrubbing!” Lily paused in going back to the scullery. “I don’t suppose you have an apron?”
Chapter Eleven
Although the bottom six inches of her skirt was wet and caked in grime, and her arms ached as though she’d been pulled by a horse all day, Aurora sat back on her heels and surveyed the sitting room with a good deal of satisfaction. While Lily worked in the kitchen, she had started in the front room. After sweeping cobwebs from the corners and ceiling, she’d washed the walls, scrubbing at the mould, before cleaning the window inside and out. She’d been amazed at how much dirt had accumulated in one room. With the window clean and open, extra light and fresh air filled the room. Lastly, on her knees, she had scoured the floorboards.
“My, that’s a grand job.” Lily came in to stare at the difference. A smudge of dirt coated one of her cheeks and her w
hite apron was now mucky and stained. “Come, inspect the kitchen.”
Aurora followed her into the kitchen and it was her turn to stare at the transformation. The walls had been cleaned, so too the floor, the range was black-leaded, the window washed and the table set for the dinner that was cooking slowly on the stove.
“Oh, Lily.” Tears of gratitude rose and impulsively Aurora hugged her new friend to her side. “Thank you so very much.”
“Nay, we’ve a long way to go yet.” Lily grinned, adjusting the plain square tablecloth taken from her own home.
“We have some money.” Ideas sprang into Aurora’s head. “I mean Sophia has been saving for years, and she wanted to buy some things that we need.”
“Tomorrow we’ll go shopping.” Lily nodded, frowning with thought. “You’ve not got much at all.” She pulled out a chair and sat down, rubbing her back.
Seeing the action, Aurora felt full of remorse. “I’m sorry that you’ve had to do this. You shouldn’t have in your state.”
“Leave it out, I enjoyed it.” Lily laughed. “Though I’ll admit I’m ready for a bath and me bed!” She rose awkwardly, her stomach seemingly larger by the minute. “Speaking of which, I’d best go and see to me Dad’s meal or he’ll be yelling the street down.”
“Thank you for everything.” Aurora stood on the front doorstep and watched Lily waddle across the cobbles to her own door. The sun was setting over the rooftops, but the day had been warm and the tepid heat remained.
“I’ll see you in the morning, and remember to get your water!” Lily waved and closed the door.
“Good evening, Miss.”
Aurora turned. She hadn’t noticed her immediate neighbor next door was leaving their house. “Oh, good day.” She smiled at the young man, who she guessed was about eighteen.
“I’m Anthony Murphy.” He slapped down his flat cap over a tumble of black curls and hooked his thumb over his shoulder to indicate inside. “Me mam said she’ll come around tomorrow like, now you up an’ about. She’s been bad with her legs lately.”