by Carol Rivers
Bella was speechless for the first time that day. What Ray had just said had eclipsed even Miss Conway's little gem.'I can't believe my ears,' she gasped softly. 'You're saying you've discussed me with your parents – marrying me and us living with them? And even having kids?' She pushed her hands over her face trying not to visualize the idea of producing babies that resembled their father and mother as closely as Ray and Dolly resembled theirs.
'What's the matter, are you feeling all right?' Ray leaned across and tried to take her into his arms.
She pushed him away. 'Don't touch me. You don't know what kind of person I am. You don't know anything about me.'
'I only said – '
'I know what you said.' She opened the car door and jumped out. 'I must've been mad to go out with you in the first place. I'll find my own way home.'
She slammed the door and began walking away her steps fast and furious as outrage stuck in her chest. She could just imagine the Taylors, all four of them, sitting at the table after tea and deciding whether or not she was a suitable match for their beloved son. What right had they to discuss her behind her back? What right had Ray to assume that she was the kind of girl to settle for what he had planned for his miserable future?
Suddenly the tears flowed down her cheeks and the night breeze dragged them into her hair. Everything was going wrong. She had lost her stupid job today and had just finished with her even more stupid boyfriend. She would have continued going out with Ray if only he hadn't opened his trap. The truth was Ray was just a stopgap in her life. He was as thick as two planks, a terrifying cross between his mother and his father. In a few years time he'd be planting cabbages and sprouts and bringing them home for his puppy-eyed children to stuff down their ping pong throats.
'Bella!' Ray caught up with her. 'Come back to the car and we'll talk.'
'No. I told you, it's over.'
'Not till you tell me why.'
'I'm not your type, Ray. Never have been.'
'I don't understand,' he complained angrily. 'What have I said? Aren't I good enough for you?' He stopped dead. A look of dismay on his face. 'It's that Micky Bryant, aint it?'
'This has nothing to do with Micky.'
'Are you seeing him?'
'What if I was? It's none of your business.' She tried to walk on but he pulled her back.
'You are, aren't you?'
'Let go of me, Ray.'
'He's no good Bella. None of the Bryants are. He's a womanizer and everyone on the island knows it.'
Bella pulled her arm free. 'You can just shut up about Micky because I'll tell you this for nothing. I don't care if he's got women crawling all over him, he's twice the man you are. And he never once tried it on with me like you did. And I'll tell you something else. If he had, I would have let him an' all!'
Ray stared at her. 'You little tramp!'
'What do you expect? This is Mary Doyle's daughter you're talking to.'
Out of the corner of her eye, Bella saw the lights flick on in the houses nearby. Ray grabbed hold of her and they fell struggling into the road. He was shouting at her and she was yelling back when a flash of light illuminated the darkness. There was a screech of brakes followed by the slam of a door and Ray was suddenly dragged from her.
She stumbled backwards as Micky took hold of Ray's shoulder and propelled him against the car. 'Who do you think you're pushing around?' he demanded as Bella stood trembling trying to regain her breath.
Ray recovered quickly, glaring at Bella. 'I might have known he'd turn up. I was right, wasn't I? Only you couldn't look me in the eye and tell me so.'
'I told you, it's got nothing to do with him,' Bella protested but Micky stretched out his arm, separating them.
'Just a minute, what's he on about, Bells?'
Ray stuck his face up to Micky. 'This is none of your business, pal, why don't you just piss off?'
'A pleasure my son, as soon as you explain why you were pushing around a woman. And you're wrong about it not being my business. Anyone who lifts a hand against her answers to me.'
'Just what I was telling her myself,' Ray growled, jabbing a finger into Micky's shoulder. 'And the day she cuts herself loose from your family will be one to be celebrated.'
'Say that again,' Micky muttered as he slapped away the pointing finger.
'Up yours Bryant. I ain't wasting me breath on rubbish.'
'In that case, nor will I.' Micky turned as if to walk away, then wheeled round and brought his clenched fist hard into Ray's face. Bella screamed at the sound of fracturing bones as Ray fell to the ground and he held up his arm to deflect the blows.
Bella ran forward. 'Stop it, Micky, stop!' She hung on to his arm.
'I'm not finished with him yet.' He kept kicking as Ray curled into a ball.
Bella sank down on her knees beside him. She looked up at Micky, her eyes full of anger. 'Look what you've done. You've broken his nose.'
'He'll get over it.' Micky reached down and grabbed her wrist, dragging her to her feet. 'He's got off lightly after what he was doing to you.'
'I can look after myself,' she retorted, pushing him away. 'Who asked you to interfere?'
'What was I supposed to do? Drive on past and ignore you?'
'Why not?' Bella demanded as the tears threatened once more. 'I've been invisible to you for the past six months, what's so different now?'
'There's a reason for that if you'll only listen.'
Bella laughed emptily. 'No, you listen to me Micky Bryant, I don't ever want to see your ugly boat race again. From now on, keep your nose out of my business. This is Bella Doyle you're talking to not one of your bitches on heat.'
Micky stared at her, then laughed. 'Have it your way, kid.' He brushed down the sleeves of his jacket and nodded to Ray who was struggling to his feet. 'Good luck with Prince Charming here. Going on what I saw just now, you should make a very happy couple.'
Bella watched his tall figure tall figure stride across the road and jump in the car. Her heart seemed to split in two as she silently mouthed the words she wanted to call but no sound came out.
What had she done? She had been waiting months to see him again. Had dreamed of what she would say if he was standing beside her again and she had the chance to tell him how much she missed him. And now, when she had her opportunity, she was sending him away forever.
The big black car roared off. Her hair blew around her face as the feeling of emptiness filled her. She thought she'd had a bad day until now. Micky had been within arms reach, had even stopped the car to defend her. If only she had responded with gratitude rather than anger.
'That was the most sensible thing I've heard you say all night,' Ray mumbled as he hauled himself up from the ground. 'Though I would never have believed it if I hadn't heard it with me own ears. It was worth getting my face punched in just to hear you tell him to sling his hook.'
Bella turned slowly, a look of contempt in her eyes. 'God help me. I'm a fool to have done what I did,' she whispered in a shaky voice, her heart untouched by the sight of his bleeding face. 'All I have left to say to you Ray Taylor is that if I never see you again in this life, it will be too soon.'
She turned away and began walking. The sobs came up from her chest, but there were no tears now. She was too unhappy to cry. Soon her steps turned into strides and finally she was running. Running home to Bow Street where she belonged.
August began wet and overcast. Which made staying out all day and keeping dry impossible. But she couldn't stay home, not with the cripple in his chair, watching her. The sight of him brought back too many memories. So she had kept to her habit of leaving home at seven thirty each morning. No one knew, not even Terry, that she had no job. Ray had a point when he said it wouldn't be easy to get another one. Now that she was walking the streets her money would soon run out.
She applied to the construction company at Chalk Wharf and the timber yard and the mangle works but the answer was always no. She would rather work on the sho
p floor than in an office and had been willing to take any vacancy. But all the firms wanted to know where she had worked since leaving school. She hadn't realized when she'd acted so impulsively, that getting future employment was dependent on her track record.
It was Friday and Bella was walking down Manchester Road wondering where to try next. The evidence of war was still clearly visible; houses reduced to debris, others ugly and neglected. People had tried to breathe life into them, but the smoke and the soot covered them like grubby shawls. She had never really noticed them before. Hadn't seen them the way they looked today, cracked and broken. The last time she had walked this way was with Dolly. They had been happy and laughing as they walked past the Newcastle Arms. The sights and smells that had excited her then, now depressed her. As did her reflection in a pane of glass. Her hair was dirty and hung down on her shoulders. Her coat was shabby and shapeless. She moved past quickly.
When she came to Cubitt Town, the prefabs now seemed a long forgotten dream. They were a pretty buttermilk colour with flat roofs and a square of green grass at the front. Bella dug her hands into her pockets. She didn't have the inclination to walk to Cox Street where she intended to buy herself a cup of tea. She couldn't afford it, anyway.
The factory workers would be turning out soon, flush with their pay packets. For the girls, Friday night was hair wash night. The men disappeared down the pub. The kids stayed up late in the streets on summer nights, knocking a ball about. Friday night was the best night of the week.
Bella walked quicker, already missing the money that she had begun to take for granted. She had lost a good job because of her pride. Now she was walking the streets, tired, hungry and alone.
She had no idea what to do next.
Bella knew something was wrong when she saw Terry sitting on the pavement. He stood up when he saw her coming, his eyes full of confusion.
'What's up, Terry?' Bella saw the bundle at his feet.
'Terry's not allowed in any more,' he said as the door was flung open and Mary Doyle stood there, her arms full of Bella's clothes. She threw them on the pavement beside Terry's. 'So the prodigal returns, does she? Well, not to this house she doesn't. Thought I was daft enough not to know what was going on behind me back, eh?'
'I don't know what you mean.' Bella began to pick up her belongings.
'Don't lie to me, you brazen cow. Gave up that fine job for an easy life did you? Well you'll not find it so fecking easy when you have to pay all the bills, my girl. Sweet Jesus, did you think you could pull the wool over Mary Doyle's eyes?'
'It's not a crime to chuck a job in,' Bella retaliated, hiding her humiliation at being discovered.
'A common little tart is what I've bred,' Mary Doyle shouted back. 'And she's had the gall to look down her nose at her mother all these years. And now she's working the street herself like any old tom.'
Bella looked astonished. 'Who told you that?'
'Who hasn't!' her mother screamed at her, stepping forward to push her shoulder. 'The Rose is bursting at the seams with the news of me own girl touting for trade. And you're brazen enough to leave the house and come home, with your pockets full of easy money, without her own mother knowing it.'
'They've told you wrong, Mum,' Bella said emptily. She knew that whatever she said in her defence, Mary Doyle would ignore.
'So they have, have they? My own friends and neighbours are lying are they? When they tell me they've seen you every day this week walking the island with your arse for sale? And him, that idiot!' She narrowed her eyes at Terry, 'Keeping your filthy secret and tricking his own mother. Sure, it's a pair of devils I birthed, not babies.'
Bella almost smiled at the thought of the Mary Doyle ever having a neighbour or friend who was not a liar. But she didn't voice her thoughts, nor did she try to stop the tirade as it continued. The daughter who had cost her mother a happy life and crippled a decent man. Who deceived her mother at every turn and denied them all a worthy existence. Mary Doyle finally stood heaving and breatless, her face shining with sweat.
'Go ahead and believe your so-called friends and neighbours,' Bella said calmly. 'Why should things change now? I've never been able to make you listen. But I'll tell you this before I go, Mum. One day you'll be left without anyone. Not even that animal who beat our Terry black and blue, will stay with you. So you're welcome to what you believe. I hope it makes you happy. And one thing more. Our Terry never knew I lost my job. He couldn't tell a lie to save his life. He might be a bit backward but he's an innocent, Mum. Which is a miracle, seeing the womb he got dragged out from.'
Bella swept her clothes from the ground. She nodded to Terry. 'Come on, our Terry.'
'Good riddance to bad rubbish,' Mary Doyle shrieked as she stepped back in the house and slammed the door in their faces.
Bella looked at Terry. Now they really were on their own.
Chapter 11
That night they slept at the back of the old Islanders. The pub had taken a direct hit in the Blitz but a shed remained with half of its roof. They curled up inside it, too tired to notice the wet or the rats. The next day they went to Hailing House and drank soup for the destitute served up by voluntary workers. Afterwards, they visited the flour mill. Bella asked for work but the answer was no. She did the same at the rope makers but the factory was fully staffed.
The second night they slept on an old rotting wreck; a coal barge washed up on the mud. Its skeleton was open to the elements and rotting but a filthy tarpaulin left inside was cover enough. The warm winds that blew off the river brought the smell of the sea into the barge as Bella closed her eyes. But she was too exhausted to care if the tide came in and swallowed them up.
For the next two days they walked the length of the river from Limehouse to Blackwall. Bella asked in the cafe if they needed help, but the answer was always no.
The Salvation Army provided a meal and at night they returned to the barge. It was a dry, hot morning when they walked to Island Gardens. They sat on a bench and Terry groaned. He'd lost weight and was the colour of pastry. Bella listened to his racking coughs. She had to do something.
'Stay here, I won't be long.'
'Terry sick.'
'I know. I'm going to get Micky.'
He lay down on the bench with his head on the bundle of clothes they'd carried with them. She held his hand and said quietly, 'I won't be long.'
Then she ran all the way to Piper Street. If she had to go on bended knee to Micky she would. If she had to lick his boots, she would. She would do anything Micky asked if only he would help Terry.
Micky's black car was parked in the street. She caught her breath and stood still, staring up at the big house where she was now a stranger. What would she do if he turned her away? Or laughed in her face. But there was no one else she could turn to. No one who cared enough to help Terry.
Slowly she walked up to the big door. Like all the big houses in Piper Street, the long windows were shielded by lace curtains and Bella recognized them as the ones that had been there since Mrs Bryant had first hung them years ago. Briefly she recalled the memory of Sean washing them, Sean placing them on the line to dry and being ridiculed by his two brothers for the care he took in preserving them. Micky and Ronnie had always left the household chores to Sean who was a natural at cleaning and cooking. Following in his mum's footsteps, they always said. And though Bella had never known Mrs Bryant, her boys always talked about her whenever they had the chance.
She grasped the brass knocker, bringing it down three times. The door opened and Micky stood there. His face was as handsome as ever; He wore a white shirt and red and blue tie and she could smell the soap that he washed with. Everything about him made her heart race.
'Strike a light,' he mocked. 'Look who it isn't.'
'Can I come in?'
'What do you want?'
'To talk to you.'
'Oh, so now you've got the time of day for me, have you?' Micky sneered at her.
'I lost my job a
nd Mum chucked me out.'
He nodded slowly as he looked her up and down. 'Nothing new there, then?'
Bella decided to come clean. 'We've been sleeping rough, anywhere we can.'
'You don't say.'
'Terry's sick, Micky.' Bella was almost pleading. She didn't know what else to do. 'I left him down Island Gardens on a bench.'
His brow smoothed out as he studied her. 'So what happened to Casanova?'
'If you mean Ray, I don't know. I haven't seen him since - '
'Since you told me to sling my hook,' he interrupted her angrily.
'I didn't mean to. I just lost my temper.'
'Yeah, with me. You should have taken it out on fancy pants.'
'Can I come in? I want to apologise.' For a minute she thought he was going to close the door, then he shrugged.
'I really am sorry, Micky,' she said as they stood in the hall. 'I shouldn't have said what I did.'
'And I'm supposed to forget that you was there on your knees mopping him up like Florence Nightingale?'
'He's just a friend honest, not even that. He's Dolly Taylor's brother, just someone to go out with once in a while. We went to the cinema a few times, but that was all. I soon got fed up. I was telling him I didn't want anything more to do with him when you came along.' She wrung her dirty fingers anxiously together. 'I was mad at you, that's why I said the things I did. Mad because I hadn't seen you and I thought you'd forgotten about me.'
He leaned against wall and stuffed his hands in his pockets. 'So what you're saying is, the purpose of this little visit is to ask for my help, right?'
She nodded. 'Terry's really sick.'
'And I'm supposed to jump to it, am I? Just because you've realized which side your bread is buttered.'
'I thought you didn't want me around any more.'