A Wise Child

by A Wise Child (retail) (epub)

  He stopped, smiling to himself, and Chancer said quietly, ‘He had a good mother, then?’

  Sam’s head jerked up. ‘The best,’ he said emphatically. ‘She was a good wife too. If me money was held up he never went short. She got cleaning jobs. Worked real hard.’

  He stood up and went to lean on the doorjamb looking out at the darkening countryside and Chancer said softly, ‘Sounds like a good wife too. What was she like?’

  ‘Ellie? She was little and thin, quiet like. Quiet voice. Big blue eyes. She had the place lovely when I came ashore. Me chair be the fire and Woodies and matches beside it and something real tasty cooking.’

  They were both silent for a while, Sam occupied with his thoughts and Chancer looking puzzled but asking no questions. Suddenly Sam crashed his fist into the palm of his other hand.

  ‘I just wanted to look after her,’ he exclaimed, ‘from I first seen her as a kid. That’s all I wanted. To look after her.’

  Chancer looked even more puzzled. ‘I’d say you were doing that all right, Sam, as far as you could as a seaman, and she was doing her side of it. I can’t see what was wrong?’

  ‘It was me. Me bloody jealous temper,’ Sam groaned. ‘I spoiled them good years. Listening to them in the Volley, Bert Hagan and them lot and old Janey coming out with things. Making out I’d been tricked.’

  ‘I don’t get it,’ Chancer said, ‘You’re no fool, Samson. Why did you take any notice?’

  ‘It was Tommy – she only went eight months for him and he wasn’t nothing like me,’ Sam muttered.

  ‘But that doesn’t prove anything,’ Chancer said. ‘Do you think she’d trick you?’

  ‘No, she was straight, Ellie. I’m sure she was. She must’ve got tricked herself some way,’ Sam said. ‘But we got over all that. Oh, I was still bloody jealous, and that runt Charlie West hanging round, but we was happy. And me and Tommy. They all used to say about us round there, the way we were together. An old one at the top of the street – she said he was the core of me heart.’

  ‘And still is, I think,’ Chancer said. ‘You know, Samson, if the Prof was here he’d tell you you’d been jumping to conclusions. You could claim Tommy as your son.’

  Sam groaned and put his hands over his face. ‘Oh God, I wish to God I could, but I can’t,’ he said with anguish. ‘I took bad on me last voyage. Got took to hospital and the doctor there – he said I was sterile.’

  Chancer whistled softly. ‘By God that’s a facer,’ he said.

  ‘Aye, it is,’ Sam said grimly and they said no more. Chancer often quoted philosophical comments which had been made by the Professor but he could think of nothing to fit Sam’s tragedy.

  Sam was stiff and self-conscious the next morning when he remembered all he had said but Chancer’s manner was the same as usual and soon Sam was behaving naturally.

  During the following months he gradually filled in the details of his story. Chancer was a perfect confidant, always ready to listen and make sympathetic comments, but never pushing Sam further than he was ready to go.

  It was a great relief to Sam to talk freely about what he had brooded on for so long. He even told Chancer about Madge and Southampton.

  ‘I can’t believe now that I did that. I must have been bloody mad. Knocked sideways by that doctor, I guess.’

  One thing he never spoke about and even avoided thinking about was the attack on his wife immediately before he left home. Instead his thoughts dwelt fondly on the other happier homecomings and especially on their outings as a family and the nights of passionate lovemaking.

  Despite what he had heard of the other man moving in immediately, of the tales Madge had told him of Tommy becoming a gentleman and despising him and Nellie being ‘on the game’, something within him obstinately refused to believe that the Ellie he knew was not the true one.

  If only he had realised how much he loved her. Now when it was too late he was filled with love and longing for her and longing for his son. Chancer had said that being a father to Tommy until he was ten made the boy his son, more than the blood tie, and Sam had grasped eagerly at the idea. Tommy’s unknown father had never shown any interest in him yet Sam had always loved him.

  But it was Ellie he longed for even more than his son. He remembered the way she had clung to his arm when they were out together, her pleasure in the little gifts he bought her. The way she nestled in his arms and kissed him and he wondered whether she ever thought of him.

  He wondered this aloud one day when he had been talking about his wife to Chancer and Chancer thought she probably did.

  ‘But the way I walked out on them,’ Sam said. ‘And Tommy’s a young man now with his life before him and Ellie’s made a new life for herself.’

  ‘With the brandy drinker?’ Chancer said. ‘I’ve been thinking about that, Sam. Hadn’t your old lodger just died? Maybe the fellow had just taken the room. If he found the money and he was drinking it. Didn’t the landlord say something about the lad should have had it?’

  Sam stopped dead in amazement. ‘I never thought of that,’ he said. ‘I wish I’d talked about all this years ago. You’ve got a good headpiece on you and I’m so bloody thick.’

  ‘No, it’s just what they say, “The onlooker sees most of the game,”’ Chancer said laughing. ‘The Prof always said things should be looked at from every side before any conclusion was drawn. He was a brilliant man, Sam. He studied Kant, you know, and when he talked the world seemed different.’

  ‘Aye, and you could understand him. You’re an intelligent man yourself, Chancer, but me – I’m just like an animal that can feel pain but can’t understand why.’

  ‘And that’s as profound a thought as any of the Prof’s,’ Chancer said.

  Sam and Chancer spent the autumn and winter working on farms and in canning factories but only enough to provide food and lodgings, then they wandered on. In the spring when the ice melted they worked on ships trading on the Great Lakes and when they tired of this they thought they might go back to America.

  They had been back and forth over the border several times over the years but even Chancer was unable to get them over this time and they turned back to Canada. By now it was 1938 and talk of war was everywhere until the Munich Pact was signed.

  ‘It’ll come though,’ Chancer said, ‘stands to reason. Even in ’36, the last time we were in the States, things were picking up. More work, more prosperity and all because of armaments. The same everywhere.’

  Sam agreed. ‘That Cockney lad on the ship. He reckoned England was getting better. More chance of a job, though it had a way to go.’

  ‘Only one reason. Armaments. They’re piling them up and they’ve got to be used so they can make more and that means war,’ Chancer said.

  Sam sighed. ‘I hope to God you’re wrong but I guess you’re right,’ he said. ‘And they told us ours was the war to end wars.’

  ‘That wasn’t the only lie they told us, was it?’ Chancer said.

  A few minutes later Sam said thoughtfully, ‘It’s just struck me. If it comes, Tommy’ll be old enough to fight.’

  ‘The same thought had struck me,’ Chancer said.

  He had filled his pockets with apples earlier and now he and Sam sat down in a clearing, their backs against tree trunks, munching the apples.

  ‘Do you get fed up listening to me about all this?’ Sam asked. ‘I mean, all these years I’ve never said nothing about it and now I never stop.’

  Chancer pulled off his battered cap with a flourish and sketched a bow. ‘On the contrary, dear sir, I am honoured to be chosen to hear it,’ he said.

  The contrast between the flourish and the flowery words and Chancer’s distorted face was ludicrous and although Sam laughed he thought with fierce loyalty I hope people see past his kisser to see what he really is. Pure gold. The best mate a fellow could have.

  He felt that although he and Chancer had wandered the roads for so many years as the best of friends they had both kept part of thems
elves separate and private. Since he had talked of his past their relationship had altered and become deeper and he had realised more clearly Chancer’s tact and kindness and his intelligence.

  He wanted to tell his friend how much he appreciated his response to his revelations but he was unable to frame the words.

  ‘Thanks for taking an interest, like, Chancer,’ was all he could say.

  Chancer threw his apple core into the undergrowth. ‘I’ve often thought lately, Samson, you and me, we’re in the same boat in some ways.’

  ‘How do you mean?’ asked Sam.

  ‘The Prof always said that what we experienced in childhood, even as babies, set the pattern of our behaviour for the rest of our lives.’ He shrugged. ‘I reckon we both had the same experiences.’

  ‘Heswall, you mean?’ Sam said.

  ‘Before that. We were both thrown out by our fathers and our mothers – well, they were no help. Mine died when I was born and yours seemed to do a good job of twisting your ideas about women,’ said Chancer.

  ‘I don’t blame me ma,’ Sam said. ‘She was always sick and she couldn’t stand up to me da, but him! He hated me.’

  ‘So did mine,’ Chancer said.

  ‘How old was you when he threw you out?’ asked Sam.

  ‘Well, that’s the question,’ said Chancer. ‘He sent me to prep school when I was four and I ran away, then to three other schools over the next few years, but I never stayed long anywhere. I was down for his public school but he told me he wouldn’t let me disgrace him there. Turned me over to the police as being out of control. That’s how I landed at the reformatory in Heswall.’

  ‘I never knew you were posh really,’ Sam said. ‘You talked like us and made out you’d lived rough and that.’

  ‘Protective colouring,’ Chancer said with a grin.

  ‘You tried to abscond a few times, didn’t you? Never made it,’ said Sam.

  ‘I didn’t like the punishments either,’ Chancer said grimacing. ‘I soon realised I hadn’t much chance of getting away so I just made life as bearable as possible.’

  ‘I remember,’ Sam said dryly. ‘That’s how you got your name Chancer.’

  ‘What I’m saying, Sam, is you shouldn’t blame yourself too much for the way you behaved. You couldn’t help yourself.’

  Sam shook his head. ‘I couldn’t blame nobody else,’ he said. ‘I never even told Ellie what that doctor said. Never heard her side of it. And I never even said ta-ra to Tommy.’

  Chancer said nothing for a moment then he leaned forward. ‘Listen, Samson, why don’t you go back? Go and see them. I think you want to.’

  ‘Don’t see how I can,’ Sam said gruffly. ‘After all these years. They’ll have made their own lives without me.’

  ‘But you could just go and see. Don’t even have to make yourself known. Just go and see and you’ll be easier in your mind. You can always come back if you want to.’

  ‘Might stop me going on about them,’ Sam admitted. ‘You know, I battened down hatches on it for all these years, although I did think about them, like. Since I started talking about them, I can’t think of nothing else.’

  ‘I think you should go,’ Chancer said. ‘It’s not as if you feel bitter about them but you’d like to know how they are, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘But what about you?’ Sam said.

  ‘I might just settle down,’ Chancer declared. ‘Let one of the dames catch me. Those twinges of rheumatism I had last winter. Maybe they were a warning it was time for the old rocking chair.’

  ‘When I see you in it I’ll go,’ Sam joked but they both knew the decision had been made.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  When Tom came home on fourteen days’ leave from the training camp his first outing was to the shipping office where his father had been paid off after his last Liverpool voyage. The clerk he spoke to was anxious to be helpful to anyone in army uniform. He told Tom that his son serving with the Cheshire Regiment had been killed at Dunkirk.

  Tom gave as many details as he could without revealing why his father had sailed from Southampton but the man could offer little hope.

  ‘He could have signed on with another line from New York, even if he decided to come back to his home port,’ he said.

  ‘I know it’s just a chance,’ Tom said. ‘But I’ve got to try.’

  ‘Come back in a couple of days and I’ll check where I can,’ the man said. ‘If I can find anyone who can help you I’ll send them to see you.’

  ‘My mother doesn’t know I’m doing this,’ Tom said hastily. ‘I’m on fourteen days. Could you just send a message and I’ll meet them? You could tell me when I come back.’

  When he returned the man told him that he had no news of Sam signing on but he gave him the address of a man who had sailed in and out of Southampton for a couple of years. ‘He’s had an accident. Staying with his mother in Juvenal Street,’ he said.

  Tom hurried to the address and the man said he was willing to tell Tom all he knew but he warned him that he might not like it.

  ‘Never mind. Tell me,’ Tom said and the man said he had heard about Sam.

  ‘Big fellow with a fist like a sledgehammer, is he?’ he asked and Tom nodded. ‘Well, lad, this is only what I heard. Could be wrong.’ He hesitated and Tom said, ‘I know there was a woman involved.’

  ‘Well, in that case. This fellow lived with a tart. She used to be run by some pimp. Big black man called Big Eddie. There was a fight one night in the pub and Big Eddie drew a knife and the fellow hit him. Broke his jaw and the landlord got him put out.’

  Tom’s face had gone first red then very pale and the man said anxiously. ‘I’m sorry, lad, but you said you wanted to hear it.’

  ‘I do,’ Tom said. ‘I want to know anything you can tell me.’

  ‘Well, I got told the fellow signed on for New York the next morning and he backed off in New York. The tart got slashed and she disappeared when she came out of hospital. Sorry I can’t tell you no more, lad, but as far as I know he was never in Southampton again.’

  ‘I’m very grateful for all you’ve told me,’ Tom said. ‘My dad was very ill on his last voyage from Liverpool. He got put ashore to a hospital abroad and he was a changed man when he came home. We think it might have damaged his brain. What happens when a man backs off?’

  ‘Different things, lad. Some fellows have a good time, then sign on anything they can get. Some fellows go travelling round or find a shore job. Just depends.’

  Tom stood up. ‘Thanks a lot. I’m glad to know what happened. Better than guessing.’

  He tried to put money in the man’s hand murmuring, ‘Have a drink,’ but the man refused it.

  ‘Keep your coppers, lad,’ he said. ‘I done all right with the compensation.’ He winked. ‘The old lady said I shoulda been on the stage.’ He ushered Tom to the door. ‘Hope you find your dad, lad, and he’s got all right,’ he said.

  Tom returned home feeling despondent but he was pleased to find one of his mother’s old neighbours sitting with her.

  ‘You remember Mrs Rimmer, Tom, Katy Rimmer and her daughter Amy that used to take you to school?’ his mother said.

  ‘Gosh, I’m glad to see you,’ Tom said enthusiastically and both women laughed.

  ‘I’m glad to see you too, Tommy,’ Katy Rimmer said. ‘You look great and writing stories too your mam tells me.’

  ‘How’s Amy and Bernie and Don?’ Tom asked.

  ‘The lads are at sea and Amy’s in the WRNS. A cypher clerk,’ Katy said proudly. ‘There’s only Alan at home now.’

  ‘She won the scholarship, remember, Tom?’ Nellie said. ‘She was always clever.’

  Tom stayed for a few minutes chatting but he felt that his mother and her old friend wanted to catch up on all the news.

  He excused himself and went up to his bedroom to write down all the seaman had told him. Just in case, he thought, although unless his mother asked him directly he would never tell her what he had learnt. />
  Nellie told him later that she had met Katy by chance when she had been queuing for tomatoes.

  She spoke tearfully about her pleasure in meeting Katy again and hearing all about her old neighbours. ‘What do you think, Tom? Mrs Gilligan and her husband are back together again and Lettie’s working as a wardrobe mistress or something with the Royal Court and doing very well.’

  ‘Mrs Gilligan?’ Tom said.

  ‘The woman that used to tell fortunes. Prudence, Gertie called her. A lot of them have come true. She told Katy about their Amy doing so well when Amy was only a little girl and she said Gertie would marry late and be very happy and that’s come true an’ all.’

  ‘Who was Alan she talked about? Is that her husband?’ Tom asked to show interest.

  ‘No, Katy’s husband is Peter. Alan was the last little lad she had. She told me about Maggie Nolan. She’s give up her house. Gone to live with Josie and her husband, and Susan and her husband are only round the corner from them.’

  ‘What about the lads?’ asked Tom.

  ‘Henry and Walter are both at sea and Richie’s working in the Meccano on war work. Him and Henry are both married and Walter’s courting. Maggie’s very happy with Josie.’

  Tom laughed. ‘You seem to have got all the news,’ he said. ‘I hope you’ll keep in touch with Mrs Rimmer, Mum.’

  ‘Of course. I’m only sorry I lost touch but that was my own fault. Katy’s not the kind to bear grudges though.’

  ‘I think it was my fault really, Mum,’ Tom said looking guilty. ‘I was given messages that I didn’t tell you about. Thought they might upset you.’

  ‘Oh well, it’s water under the bridge now anyway,’ Nellie said cheerfully and Tom felt that he would worry less about leaving her when this leave ended.

  The second publisher had returned his novel, again with an encouraging letter and blaming paper shortages, and Tom wondered if he should wait until the war was over to send it out again.

  There had been an air raid in September and houses near the docks had been demolished and people killed or injured. The cafe had escaped but Tom heard men talking about the raid.