Bobby was already upstairs when Nellie returned, tearing the mouldy wallpaper from the walls of his bedroom. Nellie looked in dismay at the exposed laths where the plaster had come away with the wallpaper.
‘You won’t be able to use the blowlamp, Bob,’ she said. ‘It was only the paper holding it together.’
‘I’ll be careful,’ Bobby promised, blithely ripping off the rest of the wallpaper. ‘The laths are too damp to take fire,’ and he proved to be right.
His workmates had advised Bobby to use whitewash on the walls instead of wallpaper as a deterrent to the bugs but Nellie looked doubtfully at the walls. ‘Do you think we’d better have paper to cover up the holes?’ she asked but her brother said decisively, ‘No, whitewash. Never mind the holes.’
Johnny Nolan showed them how to mix the whitewash and before nightfall Bobby had whitewashed his bedroom walls and Nellie had scrubbed his bedframe and floor with Lysol.
‘And now the bugs can bugger off,’ Bobby announced, when they came downstairs and Nellie made supper.
Janey was sitting by the fire and she sneered, ‘The proper big fella now, aren’t yer. I hope that’s the end of it.’
‘No. I’m doing Nellie’s room next and then the kitchen. I’ll do your parlour if you like,’ Bobby said, flushed with success.
Janey thrust her face close to his. ‘You keep outa my parlour, d’ya hear? I don’t want no one rooting round in there.’ She turned to Nellie. ‘You an’ all. Keep outa my room.’
Nellie said nothing but Bobby said cheekily, ‘Wharrabout your fire? You want us in to light your fire, don’t you?’
‘Yes, while I’m in to watch what you’re up to,’ Janey said. She snatched up her mug of cocoa and stumped into her own room.
Bobby and Nellie looked at each other. ‘I should have said if we can’t go in there she can’t come in here,’ Nellie said, ‘but I never think what to say till it’s too late.’
‘You should tell her though, Nell. Ma never cooked meals for her. You’re too soft.’ Suddenly he grinned. ‘Mind you, Ma never cooked for anyone. We all just seen to ourselves.’
‘I wouldn’t mind cooking for her if she’d eat it in the parlour,’ Nellie said quietly. ‘I don’t want her eating with us when Sam comes home.’
‘No. For one thing she stinks,’ Bobby said and Nellie looked warningly at the parlour door.
They did Nellie’s room the following day. Although the paper was mouldy in patches it came away without the plaster and Bobby was able to use the blowlamp thoroughly and then to whitewash the walls.
Nellie washed the floors and the bedframe with Lysol and stood looking wistfully at the ancient flock mattress. ‘I wish I could buy a new mattress, Bob,’ she said.
‘You could get one weekly from Cookson’s now you’ve got my wages,’ Bobby said.
Nellie’s eyes lit up but then she said doubtfully, ‘But what would Sam say? He mightn’t like me going into debt.’
‘If you paid a shilling a week you’d have it paid off by the time Sam got home,’ Bobby said. Nellie was easily persuaded and she was amazed at the ease with which the hire purchase was arranged when she showed proof of Sam’s allotment and told the man of Bobby’s job.
‘As soon as I’ve paid this off I’ll get you a proper mattress, Bob,’ she promised her brother.
Bobby’s mattress consisted of two sacks stuffed with straw but he said airily, ‘Don’t worry about me, Nell, I’d sleep on a clothes line and the straw doesn’t harbour the bugs so much.’
It was a joy to Nellie to find a friend and ally in her brother as they grew to know each other. Bobby had always spent as much time as possible away from the house and Nellie had seen little of him when they were children and rarely seen him on her days off from service.
He was an open, extrovert boy with many friends and he was very proud of the part he played in saving the baby’s life. The affection he poured out on her and on Tommy warmed and delighted Nellie.
She was surprised when he suddenly said as they worked together on the kitchen walls, ‘It’s funny. I never really knew you before, Nell. It’s the gear being like this, isn’t it?’
‘Yes it is. But I never seen much of you till now. You was never in the house, was you?’
Bobby laughed. ‘No wonder, was it? I could never make out why you come home on your day off though,’ he said.
‘I was a fool,’ Nellie said ruefully. ‘Me first day off, the cook, Mrs Hignett, give me a ham shank and some fruit cake for me to bring home so I thought I had to come here. Once Ma saw the food that was it. I had to come every week and she had jobs lined up for me and all, right up to me going back. I hated me days off.’
‘Why didn’t you go off somewhere and eat the stuff?’ Bobby asked.
‘I tried that one day when it was just fairy cakes but Ma went up to the house creating. Made out she was worried about me. Miss Agatha said I owed a duty to my mother and I shouldn’t have worried her so I had to come home after that in case she came again.’
‘Didn’t you tell them what she was like?’ said Bobby.
‘No, I was too upset because Miss Agatha was vexed with me. I tried to tell Mrs Hignett but she said I should respect my mother because she was my mother and my home was my home no matter what it was like. They didn’t have no idea and I suppose Ma made herself look respectable.’
‘She was crafty like that,’ Bobby agreed.
They decided to wallpaper the kitchen and Maggie helped them.
‘You don’t want to be stretching too much while you’re breastfeeding,’ she told Nellie and set her to trim the edging from the rolls of wallpaper while she and Bobby papered the walls.
Bobby filled in all the holes round the fireplace with mortar then Nellie scrubbed the floor with Lysol and when it was thoroughly dry they laid the linoleum which Nellie had bought.
Janey was annoyed by the disruption caused by the cleaning and raged at them before retiring to her own room while they worked.
‘We’ve found a way to get rid of her, anyhow,’ Bobby joked to Nellie but she knew that the relief was only temporary. She had still not managed to pluck up courage to tell Janey that she must have her meals in her own room.
Each week Nellie managed to buy something to improve the house.
In the market she bought gingham for curtains and brightly coloured bale ends of cloth for cushion covers for the chairs for a few pence. She also went frequently to the mug market and bought bargains in dishes.
Bobby was able to get flour bags for her from a friend and she unpicked and washed them and made tea towels and a tablecloth from them.
Nellie was working on the tablecloth after the evening meal when Bobby had gone out and Janey was crouching in the chair Nellie thought of as Sam’s, smoking a clay pipe and glaring malevolently at her as she embroidered the corners of the tablecloth.
‘You daft mare,’ Janey sneered. ‘All this for a fella what went barefoot and no arse in his trousers until he got put away for stealing. He won’t have seen no tablecloths in the reformatory.’
Nellie’s face grew red but she stitched on doggedly. ‘Sam had a good home until his mother died,’ she said. ‘You told me that yourself.’
Janey sniggered. ‘Aye, and his father scarpered. I could tell you something about that too.’
Nellie was determined not to rise to the old woman’s goading and said nothing but Janey went on, ‘Why d’you think the neighbours wouldn’t have nothing to do with him? I know more about his family than what he does himself.’
Anger gave Nellie courage. ‘What do you know?’ she demanded.
‘If I told you you’d be as wise as what I am,’ Janey said. ‘But you’re not the only one in this house with a secret.’ Janey sniggered gleefully.
Nellie was silent as she stitched carefully and after a moment Janey said spitefully, ‘Cat got your tongue? He’ll think he’s come to the wrong house and when he looks in the bassinet he’ll be sure.’
Fortunate
ly at that moment there was a discreet knock on the side door and Janey went into the parlour. Nellie’s hands were trembling and she put away the tablecloth and picked up the baby.
His dark hair had rubbed off as Janey had predicted and the new hair that was growing was fair. He was still small for his age but looked healthy, with bright blue eyes and a ready smile. Sometimes Nellie fancied that his expression was like Sam’s. Certainly there was nothing about him to remind her of the ape-like Leadbetter.
The next night Janey arrived just after Bobby when Nellie was preparing to serve the meal. It was spare ribs and cabbage and Nellie tried to avoid watching the old woman’s dirty fingers tearing at the ribs or listen to her sucking the bones.
‘You turned out a good cook, any road,’ Janey said when the meal was finished. ‘I suppose they learned you when you was in service.’
It was an olive branch, Nellie realised, and she accepted it and smiled at the old woman, although she despised herself for doing so. ‘They learned me everything in me first place,’ she said.
It was not only Janey’s dirty habits which annoyed and worried Nellie. She often dropped hints about the baby while Bobby was present but he was oblivious to them, engrossed in his comic or his own plans. Nellie could ignore them too but she was worried when Janey tried to involve Maggie.
When Maggie spoke about Tommy’s birth weight, Janey broke in. ‘Aye and he’d have been smaller still if she hadn’t gone over her time.’ Nellie blushed but Maggie ignored the old woman and later she said that she thought Janey was going soft in the head.
‘She’ll finish up like poor Mrs Drew over the road,’ she said, referring to a woman suffering from senile dementia who was cared for by her daughter, Gertie.
Another day, when Maggie had been singing to the baby, Janey leaned over him later and began to sing, ‘Joshua, Joshua, what a naughty boy you are.’
Maggie stepped behind her and put her finger to her head significantly and Nellie was able to smile and ask about Maggie’s children.
When Sam was due home Nellie’s neighbours advised her to go with the other women to meet the ship.
‘Make sure you get some of his pay-off before it all goes over the bar of the Volley,’ they said. ‘You could go down with Buck Madden’s wife.’
Nellie smiled at them but privately determined that she would wait for Sam at home.
The day before he arrived she had an upsetting encounter with Charlie West. As she turned the corner of a road he was coming the other way and they came face to face for the first time since she had slapped his face. He barred her way.
‘Well, well, the woman herself,’ he sneered.
‘Get out of my way. You’d better watch yourself,’ Nellie said quickly. ‘Sam’ll be home tomorrow.’
Charlie West laughed unpleasantly and pulled open Nellie’s shawl. ‘He’s got a shock coming, hasn’t he? Fair-haired blue-eyed lad and Sam as black as your hat. It’s not me he’ll be belting.’
Nellie clutched Tommy to her and tried again to pass West but he stepped in front of her.
‘Let me pass,’ she said angrily. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘It’s you stopping me,’ he said. ‘Man mad, you are. Sam’s going to have his work cut out keeping an eye on you.’
Nellie’s arms were occupied with the baby but she lashed out with her foot and caught him on the shin. As he staggered and howled with rage and pain she slipped past him and fled down the road with his shout of, ‘You wait, you bitch. I’ll get you for that,’ following her.
She ran through back entries and passageways until she reached her back gate and rushed through it to sit down on an upturned dolly tub, breathless and shaking.
She knew she had made an enemy of Charlie West but how much harm could he do to her? How much had Janey told him so that he could tell Sam lies mixed with truth which Sam might believe?
Should she tell Sam what had happened with Leadbetter or should she bury the episode? Back and forth in her mind the familiar arguments raged. She was quite sure that the baby was Sam’s child but could she convince Sam? She recalled the day Sam had left and his words about the child’s name: ‘You know best about that.’
A letter had arrived from Sam after several weeks which had eased her mind although he only wrote,
Dear wife,
I hope this finds you well as it leaves me at present, also Bobby, Janey and the baby. It is very hot here. I hope to see you soon.
Yours faithfully
Samuel Meadows
Nellie wrote in return telling him that she had called the baby Thomas after her father and Nurse McCann and Bobby were his godparents. Also that she and Bobby were cleaning the house.
Now as she thought fondly of Sam and remembered his kindness to her when they were children she decided to tell him the whole story, but then she thought of her hurried marriage and the early arrival of the baby and how these facts could be twisted.
She knew that Sam had a violent temper at times. Would he cast her off and refuse to recognise Tommy as his son, so making him illegitimate?
There were many children in the neighbourhood born out of wedlock and absorbed into their mothers’ large families but Nellie recalled seeing a child running down the entry in tears, pursued by other children shouting, ‘Bastard, bastard. You haven’t got no father.’
Back and forth the arguments raged in her mind and later she could only sit, sick at heart, nursing the baby and sipping a cup of tea while Bobby and Janey ate the meal she had prepared.
‘Aren’t you going to have nothing, Nell?’ Bobby asked anxiously. ‘You don’t want to be bad for Sam coming home.’
The baby was fractious too and after his meal Bobby walked about with him trying to soothe him. ‘Maybe you’re both too excited about Sam coming,’ he said and to the baby, ‘Are you going to see your dad tomorrow, young fella me lad?’
‘Tee hee, it’s a wise child that knows its own father,’ Janey cackled.
Nellie leaned back in her chair closing her eyes and made no reply and Bobby took the baby into the backyard. After Janey had gone to her own room, Nellie made herself eat a slice of bread and butter and drink a cup of cocoa then, after settling the baby, she went to bed.
Worn out by her worries she slept immediately but woke at about three o’clock in the morning, feeling calm and refreshed. The May morning was mild but a fresh salty wind cleared the narrow streets of the noxious smells which usually hung there.
Tommy slept peacefully, lying on his back with his arms flung above his head, and Nellie leaned over him consumed with maternal love, so innocent and vulnerable in sleep.
She recalled the day that Sam had left, when she had decided that the baby was more important than anyone. Now that Tommy had become a real person to her she felt this even more strongly. All her doubts were resolved. From now on everything she said and did would be guided by what was best for her son.
Janey, Charlie West, even Sam if necessary – she would fight anyone who threatened Tommy in any way. No one will ever hurt him while I’m alive, she vowed, then feeling strong and confident, she slept again.
Chapter Four
The following day Nellie set to work as soon as Janey had left with her fish basket and Bobby for work. By the time that Sam arrived in the late afternoon the wind had dropped and rain was falling heavily, but the kitchen was warm and welcoming.
A bright fire burned in a shining grate and the new cushions were in the wooden armchair with a packet of Woodbines and a box of Swan Vestas on the arm of the chair. Nellie had laid the table with the new tablecloth and dishes, and a savoury smell of hotpot filled the air.
The baby, now sleeping in his cot, wore a romper suit that Nellie had knitted, and she had made a flowered wrap-around pinafore for herself. Her face was pink with excitement and tendrils of her brown hair had escaped from her bun and curled round her face.
She had been too busy to be nervous but when she peeped out of the door and
saw Sam striding down the street, his seabag on his shoulder, she retreated behind the table suddenly apprehensive.
Sam stepped in and dropped his bag at his feet, then stood tongue tied and ill at ease, looking at Nellie. Neither spoke for a moment or moved towards each other, then Nellie said timidly, ‘Hello, Sam.’
He smiled at her, his teeth a flash of white in his brown weatherbeaten face. ‘Hello Ellie. You all right, girl?’ he said. Rain had soaked his coat and his dark hair lay in wet rings over his head.
He glanced round and Nellie said quickly, ‘Tommy’s asleep, Sam.’
Sam looked startled and it was clear that for the moment he had forgotten the baby, but he moved to the cot and looked in. Nellie drew back the blanket covering the sleeping child and Sam whistled soundlessly.
‘He hasn’t half grown,’ he said. ‘Looks real healthy too.’
Nellie felt weak with relief. Sam had evidently forgotten or intended to ignore the doubts planted in his mind by his false friends, which had clouded the baby’s birth and made their parting so unhappy.
‘Sam, you’re drenched,’ she exclaimed, timidly touching his wet coat.
‘Aye. Cats and dogs out there,’ he said cheerfully. He took off his coat and sat down in the armchair leaning back and stretching out his legs to the fire with a sigh of pleasure.
‘God, this is the gear,’ he said. ‘Woodies and Vestas too.’
‘You look thinner, Sam,’ Nellie said shyly. ‘What was the trip like?’
‘Lousy,’ said Sam. ‘I took real bad when we was only five days out. Like as if I was on fire and me neck all swelled up. I couldn’t swaller nothing, only water, and that hurt me throat. I was like something out of a sideshow for a few days then the swelling went down but me throat was still sore.’
‘What was it, Sam?’ Nellie asked.
‘I dunno. One of the lads said his kid had mumps and he looked like me, but that’s a kids’ thing, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, a few round here have had it. A little lad in Marsh Lane died of it,’ Nellie said. ‘I’m terrified of Tommy getting anything like that.’
A Wise Child Page 5