‘Don’t worry, girl, he looks healthy enough to me,’ Sam said. He looked at Nellie as she bent over the oven.
‘Are you keeping all right yourself, Ellie? Looking after yourself, like?’
Nellie blushed. ‘Yes, Sam,’ she said. ‘Maggie Nolan’s been a real good friend to me and our Bobby’s been the gear. We done all through the house together.’
She closed the oven door and Sam sniffed the air. ‘Something smells good,’ he said.
‘It’s a hotpot,’ Nellie said. ‘It’s ready now. Should I put yours out, Sam?’
‘Ooh yes. I’m starving. Haven’t had nothing since me breakfast,’ Sam said. ‘You look as if you could do with feeding up and all, girl.’
He devoured the meal with obvious enjoyment and Nellie refilled his plate as soon as it was empty.
‘They learned you to cook good in your place, girl, didn’t they?’ he said. ‘But you must’ve had a talent for it like to do as good as this. Real tasty it is.’
‘That’s what I liked best,’ Nellie said shyly, ‘helping the cook.’
Sam glanced at the embroidered tablecloth and the new dishes and round the bright warm room. ‘They learned you more than cooking, Ellie,’ he said. ‘You told me about this in the letter but it’s different seeing it. You write good letters too, Ellie.’
‘You write a good hand yourself, Sam,’ she said. ‘I suppose they learned you to write copperplate at Heswall.’
‘Pity they never learned us what to say. Took me half an hour to write six lines,’ Sam said, laughing.
‘Mr Ambrose in me first place learned me to read and write,’ Nellie said. ‘I never hardly went to school.’
Sam’s smile faded. ‘Mr Ambrose? Was he the son?’ he asked.
‘No, there wasn’t no son,’ Nellie said. ‘Just Mr Ambrose and Miss Agatha. They was a brother and sister – very old.’
‘Why didn’t she learn you?’ Sam said gruffly.
‘She learned me to sew but he used to be a teacher in some posh school where all the lads lived in, like.’ She pretended not to see Sam’s scowl but she felt flattered that he seemed jealous of her employer. She was not to know then that that first small cloud would become one that would overshadow most of her life.
The baby woke and Nellie went to lift him from the cot and the moment passed. She came to sit near to Sam and he held his finger out to the baby. Tommy seized it and dragged it towards his mouth and Sam laughed.
‘Bit of a cannibal, isn’t he?’ he said but Nellie told him that the child put everything in his mouth.
‘All his black hair come off like Janey said, and this fair hair’s grew now,’ she said, then with a flash of inspiration she added, ‘I hope he doesn’t go ginger like Ma.’
‘As long as he doesn’t turn out like your ma no other way,’ Sam said with a grin.
They were sitting at either side of the fire, Sam in his armchair and Nellie opposite him nursing the baby when they heard Janey coming up the backyard. There was the sound of her fishbasket being dumped in the lean-to then she came in the kitchen, taking the roll from her head on which she carried the basket.
Sam had lit a Woodbine and was leaning back in the chair with his legs stretched out and a mug of tea on the hob beside him. At the sight of his obvious contentment Janey scowled even more ferociously, but she said nothing to him. She glared at Nellie. ‘You didn’t wait for me and Bobby, then?’
‘The hotpot’s in the oven,’ Nellie said. She hesitated, wondering whether she dared suggest serving Janey’s meal in the parlour, but at that moment Bobby came in. The warmth of his welcome to Sam offset Janey’s surliness as he eagerly asked Sam about his voyage. By the time Sam had answered and Nellie had lifted the hotpot from the oven the opportunity had passed. Janey was sitting at the table with Bobby waiting to be served.
‘What d’you think of the kitchen, Sam?’ Bobby asked. ‘Me and Nellie done it. We done the bedrooms an’ all. The fellas in work let me lend a blowlamp and the boss give me some Lysol and mortar.’
‘It looks the gear,’ Sam said.
Bobby went on, ‘I got flour bags for Nellie off me mate for this tablecloth and she got the dishes outa me wages, d’ya like the dishes, Sam?’
‘Yes. I liked what was on them an’ all,’ Sam said with a grin.
‘Jumping outa your bloody latitude,’ Janey sneered. ‘Aping your betters and none of youse ever been anything but scruffs.’
They were all silent with amazement for a moment then Bobby said cheerfully, ‘Aye, but we’re coming up in the world. Oilcloth on the floor and a tablecloth.’
Sam grinned and Janey glared at him.
‘I seen some of your mates going in the Volley,’ she said. ‘And a gang with them expecting to be mugged an’ all. You’ll be getting the name for a skinflint skulking in the house keeping your money in your pocket.’
Sam stood up and snatched his cap and coat from the door, his face red with anger.
‘That’s something no one can’t ever say about me,’ he shouted. ‘I’ve always stood me wack and everyone knows it.’
He lunged over to the door and Nellie swiftly followed him, and stood on the step plucking at his sleeve.
‘Don’t take any notice, Sam,’ she said, ‘I think she’s going funny in the head.’
She looked up at him beseechingly and Sam’s anger seemed to cool. ‘All right, girl,’ he said, ‘but I’d be going down to the Volley to mug the lads anyway.’ He suddenly bent and kissed her cheek. ‘Don’t worry, Ellie,’ he said and swung away down the street.
Janey had come behind Nellie, too late to hear her words but in time to see Sam’s kiss, and Gertie Drew who had been sitting on her doorstep across the street came over to Nellie. Gertie was an emotional girl, forever saying that she had come over faint or shedding ready tears like the heroines in the novelettes she read.
‘Oh, Nellie,’ she gushed, ‘I seen your husband kiss you. I think it’s so romantic when the fella’s come home from sea. It makes me want to cry.’
Janey pushed Nellie aside. ‘Cry then,’ she said viciously, ‘the more you cry the less you’ll pee. You need a bloody man yourself.’ She turned back into the house, leaving the two girls speechless.
Gertie was the first to recover. ‘The old cow. No wonder everyone round here hates her,’ she said.
Nellie whispered soothingly, ‘Take no notice. She’s in a twist because she was out when Sam come home. She hates to miss anything.’
Gertie tossed her head. ‘I’m not worried about the likes of her,’ she said loudly, then flounced back across the street.
Nellie felt unable even to look at the old woman when she went back into the kitchen, but Janey seemed to have recovered from her ill humour.
‘I told her, didn’t I?’ she cackled. ‘Stupid mare. God help her soft sense.’
Nellie was too angry to reply. Janey had not only deliberately spoiled Sam’s first evening at home, but she had treated Gertie with cruelty, even though she knew the circumstances of Gertie’s life.
Foolish though Gertie seemed, her histrionics and her novelettes were a way of escape from an intolerable life. She worked long hours in a toy factory and hurried home in her lunch break and again at night to feed and clean her senile mother. Gertie had to deal with the havoc created by her mother while she was locked in the house in Gertie’s absence and often she read the novelettes while sitting up with her mother after a particularly violent spell.
Bobby went out and Janey returned to her parlour. Nellie fed the baby then carried him upstairs where she had taken the cot.
‘You can’t come in the bed tonight, love,’ she whispered as she tucked him in, ‘your daddy’s home,’ but the child was already asleep. Nellie stood looking round the room and pressing her hand on the mattress. I wonder will Sam notice the mattress, she thought blushing.
Downstairs she found it hard to settle down to darning and she was alarmed when Bobby came in and said that he had seen Charlie West going into
the Volunteer.
‘Mrs Hancock said, “There’s Charlie going in with his latch lifter. It’s the only drink he’ll buy all night.” Scrounger. He’s got a cheek, hasn’t he, Nell, when he’s working ashore?’
Nellie agreed but she became more and more alarmed as the night wore on and she wondered what was happening in the Volunteer. It was nearly eleven o’clock when she heard voices in the street, including Sam’s, and the next moment he came in.
‘I’ve just very near carried Johnny Nolan home, legless,’ he said laughing.
‘Drunk,’ Nellie exclaimed. ‘But Johnny never drinks.’
‘I seen him when I was going in the Volley and took him in with me,’ Sam explained.
‘He’ll be worse because he’s not used to it,’ Nellie said. ‘He’ll have a bad head in the morning.’
‘He had a good time tonight though, any road,’ Sam said. ‘Drowned his sorrows.’
Nellie waited nervously for Sam to mention Charlie West, or to hear of taunts that had been made, but Sam said nothing more about the company in the Volunteer. He ate the bread and cheese Nellie provided then sluiced his head and face at the sink, while Nellie banked down the fire with wet slack.
The baby still slept and Nellie undressed modestly with her back turned to Sam but once in bed she went swiftly and naturally into his arms.
‘God, girl, there’s nothing of you,’ Sam exclaimed as his hands moved over her body. ‘I’m very near afraid to touch you in case you break.’
‘Don’t worry. I’m thin but I’m strong,’ Nellie whispered pressing close to him.
Sam kissed her hungrily and they made love gently yet passionately. For a while they slept then woke to make love again.
‘I’ll miss you when you go back, Sam,’ Nellie whispered, but Sam laughed and hugged her.
‘We won’t worry about that yet,’ he said, ‘I’ve only just come home.’ He stretched and yawned. ‘God, I’d forgotten how comfortable it is to sleep in a bed.’
Nellie smiled. ‘It’s a new mattress, Sam,’ she said. ‘I thought we’d have a better chance of getting rid of the bugs and that with a new one, and be more comfortable.’
‘Where’d you get the money?’ Sam demanded. ‘You never borrowed off the old girl, did you?’
‘No, I paid a shilling a week off it at Cookson’s,’ Nellie said. ‘The nurse told me never to borry off old Janey. It was Bobby told me about getting it from Cookson’s.’
‘How did he know?’ asked Sam yawning and before she answered he was asleep again.
Nellie was up early to attend to the baby and make breakfast for Bobby and tea for Janey, but Sam slept all morning.
After a meal of bacon and egg and black pudding Sam went out to the ’Pool to see his mates and then to drink at the Volunteer. Before leaving he put a generous portion of his pay-off on the table.
‘That all right for you, Ellie?’ he asked.
‘It’s fine, Sam, but have you kept enough for yourself?’
‘Oh, aye, plenty,’ he said bending over the cot.
Tommy reached up and seized his hair and Nellie had to disentangle the child’s hands.
‘By God, he takes after your ma all right. She always had her hands in someone’s hair,’ Sam joked and went out laughing.
Sam’s day followed the pattern of most seafarers when they were ashore and Nellie accepted it as normal. Sleep until midday, a meal then a drinking session or a visit to the ’Pool to see mates, another meal and another drinking session at night.
It was traditional that when men were paid off after a voyage and were flush with money they treated everyone in their local for as long as the money lasted.
When the money had gone they in their turn would be treated by others temporarily affluent. All that was required was a ‘latch lifter’, a few coppers for a pint or even a glass of beer to protect dignity and provide a reason for being in the public house and available for being treated.
Although Sam drank heavily he never seemed to Nellie as drunk as on the night of Tommy’s birth and he was never belligerent. Nothing was ever said of any taunts or any reference to Charlie West. Nellie could only surmise thankfully that the subject of Sam’s marriage had been superseded by newer topics and West had been afraid to carry out his threats.
As the days passed Sam’s afternoon sessions grew shorter. After his midday meal he began to nurse the baby, gingerly at first but with increasing confidence, and Tommy responded to him, crowing with delight when his father approached his cot.
‘Eh, they know their own,’ Maggie said one day when she had called to see Nellie. ‘He’s usually that shy with everyone, isn’t he, Nell?’
Seeing Sam’s pleased smile Nellie was sure that he now had no doubt that Tommy was his child and she wondered how he had been convinced.
On Fridays Janey was busy with her fish and her moneylending and was always late home. Bobby went out immediately after his meal and Sam and Nellie sat in peace, Sam lying back in his chair smoking and watching Nellie knitting a jacket for the baby.
‘You’ve made this place real homey, girl,’ he said suddenly. ‘I’ve come into harbour here all right.’
Nellie blushed. ‘Bobby helped me,’ she said. ‘And Maggie helped with the papering. Bobby got me the flour bags for the tablecloth and tea towels too.’
‘He’s a good lad,’ Sam said and Nellie eagerly agreed.
‘I’m made up because we’ve got real close, like. I never knew him properly before but we’re real mates now,’ Nellie said.
‘I’m glad he’s here to stick up for you,’ Sam said. ‘I don’t trust that one,’ jerking his head at the parlour door.
Sam smoked for a while in silence then he said gruffly, ‘George Adams what’s on my watch. He goes to the market on Saturday nights when he’s ashore with his missus. Do you want to go tomorrow night?’
‘With you? Oh yes, Sam,’ Nellie said. ‘Does George Adams live near here?’
‘Sydney Street,’ Sam said. ‘He’s older than me, like. He’s got five kids but he’s a real good mate. Always reading. Buck calls him the Professor but he got Buck reading a book when we was homeward bound, so he had to stop calling him Professor. It was only a laugh though.’
Janey came home a little later and Sam went out to the Volunteer. Nellie wondered whether he would stay at home more if Janey stayed in the parlour, although Janey’s attitude to Sam had changed. She seemed anxious to be on good terms with him, but Bobby had told Nellie the reason for this. Sam had given Janey money for gin on several occasions.
On Saturday Nellie washed her hair and braided it carefully before putting it up in a bun. She had washed and ironed her blouse although it would scarcely be seen under her shawl, and dressed Tommy in his best clothes. Later when she walked down the street with the baby tucked in her shawl, her purse plump with money in one hand and her other hand through Sam’s arm, she felt as though she was floating on air with happiness.
The market was crowded and they failed to see George Adams and his wife but they enjoyed themselves. Nellie bought meat and bacon when it was auctioned off cheaply and Sam bought oranges and sweets then took her to a china stall.
‘Pick out something for yourself, Ellie,’ he said. ‘I didn’t bring you nothing. Never thought of it till I seen George with things for his wife and nippers.’
‘It doesn’t matter, Sam. You give me plenty from your pay-off,’ Nellie protested.
‘That’s different. George keeps a bit extra by because he says you can get stuff cheap in foreign parts. Different too.’
‘You pick something, then,’ Nellie said and Sam chose a vase covered in swags of pink and blue flowers for Nellie and for Tommy a mug, with ‘Baby’ picked out on it in gold.
Nellie’s happiness would have been complete if Sam had not shown so many signs of jealousy. He scowled and pulled her away from stalls where the men stallholders joked with her.
‘The men don’t mean no harm, Sam,’ Nellie protested. ‘It’s ju
st their patter, like. They can see I’m with me husband and baby.’
‘You was leading him on. Smiling at him,’ Sam shouted at her, after jerking her away from one of the stalls.
Nellie looked nervously at his angry face and said timidly, ‘I wasn’t, Sam, honest,’ and after that Sam seemed more reasonable.
In spite of his earlier outbursts Nellie enjoyed the outing and looked forward to showing her present to Bobby and Maggie. She hoped that Sam would stay at home for the rest of the evening but when they reached the house Janey was sitting in the kitchen.
Sam put the parcels on the table and went out again. ‘Just going for a pint,’ he told Nellie.
‘Wharrave you got there?’ Janey asked and Nellie proudly displayed her vase from Sam and the baby’s mug.
‘You’ve properly fell on your feet, haven’t you?’ the old woman said. ‘I done you a good turn all right when I got you fixed up with Sam.’
Nellie had to acknowledge that she had cause to be grateful to Janey, whatever her motives had been, and she said warmly, ‘Sam bought these oranges and sweets too, Janey. Will you have some of them?’
The old woman agreed and carried her booty into her own room.
When Sam stepped out of the door he was about to walk up towards the Volunteer as usual, but on an impulse he turned and walked the other way towards Seaforth. He felt that he wanted to be alone to sort out his confused thoughts and feelings.
At first the streets he walked through were narrow, crowded with children playing and mothers gossiping at their doors, but gradually the surroundings changed. After the terminus of the Overhead Railway he walked along a wide road with tramlines running along the centre, with a narrow footpath edged with hawthorn trees. A few carts and pony traps and an occasional motor car passed as Sam walked along, his wide shoulders brushing against the hawthorn flowers and releasing their sweetness, but he was unaware of his surroundings.
Why had he been so narky with Ellie? She’d been so happy, made up to be out with him, and with the bits he’d bought her. He’d been made up himself too, he could hardly believe it. Him, Sam Meadows, walking along with a pretty little wife on his arm and a kid anyone would be proud of, and money in his pocket.
A Wise Child Page 6