Читать книгу Rainy Days for the Harpers Girls - Rosie Clarke - Страница 5

Marion Kaye left work at the same time as Miss Gibbs. Miss Gibbs had told her she could call her Maggie outside working hours, but as her junior, she didn’t feel that she ought, even though Miss Gibbs was very friendly towards her.

‘What are you doing this evening?’ Miss Gibbs said, smiling at her. ‘I’m going to my first-aid classes and I wondered if you would like to join? It’s for a good cause…’

Marion looked at her uncertainly. ‘I’m not sure… how much does it cost? Only, I give Ma all but a shilling of my wage and I couldn’t afford to pay more than tuppence…’

‘It is absolutely free,’ Maggie told her, her eyes bright with warmth. ‘If you want something to eat, you have to pay, but the classes are given free – it’s because the organisers think if ever there is a war, we ladies ought to know how to bandage someone properly and lots of other useful things…’

‘It sounds really interesting and I’d love to come…’ Marion said, a note of longing in her voice. She loved working at Harpers and being one of the girls and would like to go out with friends in the evening, but her mother needed her help at home. ‘I can’t manage it this week – but I’ll ask Ma. She might let me come next time…’

‘You tell her it is all very proper and safe,’ Maggie said. ‘We’re taught by trained nurses and a respectable doctor lectures us once a month. I would see you got on the right bus home…’

‘Thank you, Miss Gibbs…’ Marion said with a little blush. ‘You’re so kind to me…’

‘I told you, call me Maggie outside working hours,’ Maggie said and impulsively squeezed her arm. ‘I know what it feels like when you have to get home, because you’re needed. My father was ill for months before he died and I needed to help look after him…’ She sighed. ‘I still miss him…’

‘Do you miss your mother?’ Marion dared to ask.

‘Sometimes, but not the way I miss Poppa.’ Maggie’s smiled wobbled. ‘He loved me so much and he was so disappointed when his accident prevented me from training to be a teacher – but I’m happy at work…’

‘You live with Mrs Craven and Miss Minnie from the dress alterations…’ Marion blushed. ‘I’m sorry. She told me to call her that…’

‘Yes, I know,’ Maggie said reassuringly. ‘Miss Lumley hates her surname and asked to be known as Miss Minnie instead, which is what everyone has called her for years. Her sister Mildred was Miss Lumley and I think she’s still grieving for her, so we always call her Miss Minnie.’ Maggie smiled. ‘She didn’t really have a proper interview. Rachel spoke to Mrs Harper and she invited her for coffee, took one look at her work and gave her the job. She is a wonderful seamstress…’

‘Yes, I know. I’d love to have something made by her, but it’s so expensive…’

‘Oh, very,’ Maggie agreed and sighed. ‘Beautiful to see though…’

‘I’d better go,’ Marion said regretfully, ‘or I shall miss the bus and Ma will worry if I’m late…’ She would have loved to stop and talk to Maggie, but if she did, she would be late home and everyone would be waiting for their tea.

Marion ran to her stop and clambered on the bus as it pulled to a halt. She climbed the winding stairs to the top level and found a seat. Several passengers were sitting there, but it wasn’t as crowded as downstairs, because some people didn’t like riding in the open air, especially if it was wet or cold. That evening it was chilly but dry and Marion rather liked the feel of the wind in her face. She’d got her plain grey felt hat well pinned down on her short dark hair. Her sister Kathy had cut it for her at Marion’s request, because it had just been too much trouble when left long. Short, it curled into the nape of her neck and about her face; long it frizzed everywhere and she had to drag it back and secure it with hairpins, which never stayed put, so because she had no time to spend putting it up, she’d let Kathy chop it off. The result had brought a few tears, but at work the girls had liked it and Mrs Burrows had told her it suited her – it saved twenty minutes or more in the mornings, making it possible for her to do all she needed to and still get to work on time.

Rush Terrace, in which Marion lived with her mother, sisters and younger brothers, was a row of tall, narrow houses, all of which had long back gardens, which made them lucky, because everyone grew vegetables and some kept a few chickens. Marion knew that in other similar streets some of the back-to-back houses only had a tiny back yard, but her home had a good garden that her brothers dug and tended so they always had plenty of vegetables in season. She had two brothers at home still, her elder brother Dan having gone off more than three years previously after a violent row with his father over his treatment of their mother, and two sisters younger than herself. Their father worked on the ships and was seldom home, something they all felt relieved about, despite the shortage of money his absence caused. Dan had fought him and suffered a painful injury, but he’d gone because if he’d stayed, he might have done something he would regret. Sometimes in the past year, Maggie’s leek and potato soup had been all they had for supper, but now that she was earning, things were a little better.

Opening the back door and walking into the kitchen of her home, Marion’s heart sank. It had been one of Ma’s bad days. On her better days, she made a little effort to tidy up, do washing or ironing or make their tea, but from the look of things, she’d done nothing.

‘Where is Ma?’ Marion asked of her sister. Kathy was still at school but helped as much as she could before and after school hours. Marion could see that she’d given the younger ones a bit of bread and dripping for their tea. ‘I thought we had some sausages?’

‘Ma left them on the table while she went out to hang a towel on the line,’ Kathy said. ‘She only left the door open a moment and next door’s dog swiped the lot…’

‘That damned dog,’ her younger brother said and wiped his snotty nose on the back of his sleeve. ‘I’m hungry, our Marion, and I don’t like dripping…’

‘Nor don’t I…’ chimed in five-year-old Milly.

‘Well, you will bloody well have to put up with it,’ Robbie said and glared at no one in particular. ‘I bought them sausages wiv me last shillin’ and I was lookin’ forward to havin’ one fer me tea wiv a bit of mash…’

‘I bought a tin of corned beef in my lunch break,’ Marion said, sensing a row brewing. It had been meant for the following day, but she would have to find something else for that if she could scrape up enough from Ma’s change pot. ‘Kathy, help me do the spuds and, Robbie, you and Dickon can cut the corned beef – thin slices and no pinching a bit or there won’t be enough to go round…’

‘Cor, I love corned beef,’ her elder brother grinned at her. Robbie was a good lad. His work down the wood yard on the docks brought in nine and sixpence a week, which was an excellent wage for a lad not quite sixteen years old. He spent every penny of it on food for the family, leaving Marion to cover everything else their father’s meagre wage did not supply. Mr Kaye worked away on the ships and came home for a couple of nights every few weeks. He gave his wife a third of whatever he’d earned to keep his family while he was gone and spent the rest on drink and fancy women. At least that was what Ma had told her eldest daughter.

‘That devil ruined me health and me life,’ she’d once told the then fifteen-year-old Marion when feeling so ill she thought herself about to die some two years previously. ‘I’m no use to you kids, so you’ll have to be mother, lass – but don’t let that devil near yer or you will end up like me…’

Even at that tender age, Marion hadn’t needed to be told what her mother meant. In a house with walls so thin that every sound could be heard, she’d listened to her mother’s cries for some peace when her father was at home.

‘Sure, you’re an unfeelin’ woman, Kathleen,’ Bill Kaye had accused his wife. ‘I wonder why I married yer – but the red hair had me fooled. I thought there was some fire in yer, but yer a milksop. If yer won’t do yer duty, yer can’t blame me if I go astray…’

Bill Kaye had at that time worked on the docks as a ship’s carpenter, but he’d signed on to sail with a merchant ship that traded at various ports in Europe and in Britain and his work now kept him away from his home and his wife’s bed. He took out his anger on all of them by giving his wife a clout whenever he felt like it, and his children stayed clear or caught his fist on the side of the ear if they got in his way.

Marion’s eldest brother Dan had joined the merchant navy as soon as he was sixteen, lying about his age because he looked older. He’d been home only twice since and both times given his family presents and ten pounds, which he’d pushed into Marion’s hand.

‘You’re the only one in this family with any sense,’ Dan had told her. ‘Take care of them, Marion, and I’ll help yer as much as I can…’

‘You’re a good brother, Dan,’ Marion had replied. She would have hugged him but knew Dan couldn’t stand to be touched. She wasn’t sure why then, except that her father had gone after one of the other dockers once and hammered him with his fists until the man couldn’t stand. After Dan left home, Marion’s mother had hinted that one of the dockers had physically abused him in a way that was shameful. He’d come home crying as a lad of ten years and his father had stormed off in a rage to deliver punishment to the man that had abused him. Bill Kaye had been arrested by the police but let off with a warning after they discovered what his victim had done to the young boy. One of the police officers said he didn’t blame him and he’d have done the same in his shoes. Dan had said it was the only time his father had ever done anything for him, adding that it still didn’t make him a decent father. Marion hadn’t understood as a child, but she did now and she felt sympathy for her brother’s hurt and humiliation.

‘I wish you’d come home, Dan,’ Marion had told him when he’d given her money from his wages. ‘It would be easier if you were here with us…’

‘Nah, I’d knock Pa’s ’ead orf or bleedin’ try,’ Dan said angrily. ‘I can’t stand the way he treats our ma, Marion. It makes me savage because she just lets him walk all over her as if she’s a doormat…’

‘If she stands up to him, he hits her,’ Marion said and saw the nerve flick at Dan’s temple. ‘She doesn’t have a choice, because if he left her, she couldn’t feed us or keep a roof over our heads. We’d have to go in the old poor house what the Sally Army run nowadays – or live on the streets…’ Bill Kaye was the head of his family and his wife had few rights. If she’d left him, he wouldn’t have paid her a penny, even for the children, so she had no choice but to stay and take whatever punishment he handed out. None of the other children were strong enough to stand up to him, even though Marion had tried to reason with him when he was sober. They all knew that they had to stay clear when he’d been drinking because he didn’t care who he clouted then. Marion sometimes wished he’d stay away and never return, because the few pounds he brought home were not worth the pain he inflicted on his family.

‘I’ll never marry unless I can give a woman a decent home and enough money to feed and clothe her and the kids properly…’ Dan had vowed furiously, his eyes sweeping round the damp walls that crumbled if you hit them too hard and the dirty cobbled floor that was never clean even after Marion scrubbed it until her hands were raw. The one tap over a shallow sink only had cold water; water for washing and cleaning had to be heated in the copper in the scullery. It made the work twice as hard for their mother, whose health had steadily been deteriorating since the birth of her last child, who, poor mite, had not even drawn breath.

Marion cooked some cabbage and the potatoes, then mashed them with a scraping of marge, some salt and pepper and served her brothers and sisters first before sitting down to her own portion.

‘Has anyone been up to see Ma?’ she asked as she ate her meal.

‘I went up as soon as I got home,’ Robbie said. ‘She told me to go away. I asked if she wanted a cup of tea and a bit of toast. She said she wasn’t hungry and to leave her alone.’

‘I’ll go up in a minute,’ Marion said. She looked at Dickon. ‘You can help Kathy do the washing-up – Robbie will you bring in some wood and coke for me please? I’ve got some washing to do and I’ll scrub the kitchen floor if I can manage it after you’ve all gone up…’

‘I already lit the fire under the copper fer yer,’ Robbie said. ‘I knew yer would wash the clothes since Ma hasn’t…’

Marion finished her meal and got up, taking her plate to the sink. There was never any wasted food in her house, everything was cleared from the plates and she knew the lads could have done with more. She could offer them bread and jam and Robbie would probably help himself if he was hungry. As long as he left her a slice for her lunch the next day, she didn’t mind. They all knew that food was precious. You didn’t waste it and you ate only your share or someone else went hungry.

Leaving her siblings to wash the dishes and saucepan, Marion went up to her mother’s bedroom. She could smell the sourness of vomit and her stomach curdled, but she braced herself. It wasn’t Ma’s fault she was so ill. Marion didn’t know if it was her father’s either, though six children were a lot for any woman to bear and she knew of at least three miscarriages. These bouts of sickness and pain had started to happen after the last stillborn child and Marion wondered if something inside Ma hadn’t healed properly, but she wouldn’t have the doctor and, in truth, they would find it hard to pay him if he visited.

‘Is that you, Marion love?’ her mother asked weakly. ‘I’m sorry about the sausages. I only went out for a moment and the door didn’t shut…’

‘It’s the latch,’ Marion said. ‘It needs fixing…’ If her father were here, he could do it easily, but he wouldn’t bother unless his wife put herself out and that meant another row.

‘You should get someone…’ her mother’s weak voice said. ‘The sausages cost more than the price of a new lock…’

‘Not unless Dad does it himself,’ Marion said. Sometimes, she thought her mother had no grasp of what things cost these days. ‘I reckon half a crown at least.’

‘Not if you ask Mr Jackson…’ Mrs Kaye insisted. ‘Tell him what his dog did and he might do it for free…’

‘If Dan was here, he’d do it, but he’d make the neighbour pay for it,’ Marion said. ‘I’ll go around and speak to him if I get time…. there’s the washing and the floor…’

‘Leave the things to soak and I’ll try to rinse them in the mornin’,’ her mother offered.

‘I’ll see…’ Marion replied. She hesitated, then, ‘Will you have something to eat, Ma – or a cup of tea?’

‘Kathy got me a drink. I don’t want anything else – get on with whatever you need to, love…’

Marion sighed as she went down the stairs. If she left the clothes soaking, they would be there when she got home the next day. She would put them in for a while and pop round next door, see what Mr Jackson had to say, but she hoped the dog was shut up, because it was always jumping up at people and Marion was afraid it might bite.

She negotiated the back path to their neighbour’s kitchen door, avoiding a bicycle that had been parked against the washing prop but fallen down, taking the wooden prop with it, and then stepped over three pairs of working men’s boots that looked as if they needed a good clean. Mrs Jackson had a husband and three hulking great sons at work in the building trade, four daughters, two employed at the laundry, one married, and one – the pride of her mother’s life – training to be a nurse.

It was Paula Jackson, or Nurse Jackson, who opened the door to her, and Marion breathed a sigh of relief. Paula was friendly and often stopped to say hello if they met in the corner shop.

‘Marion, lovely to see you – will you come in?’ Paula invited. ‘If you can squeeze in for my monsters…’ She called her brothers names all the time but they only grinned. ‘What can I do for you? Mum said yours didn’t look so good when she saw her in the yard. They had quite a chat about that suffragette, Mary Richardson, what damaged a painting at the National Gallery, I believe…’

So, Ma had lied about only being gone a moment. Marion drew a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry to trouble you, Paula, but do you think your dad would fix the lock on our back door please? Ma left it open this morning and a dog got in and pinched the sausages we were supposed to have for tea…’

‘That will be where the varmint got them from then,’ Mrs Jackson said, coming to stand behind her daughter. She smiled at Marion. ‘I saw it scoffing them but was too late to rescue anything. I’d take my stick to it, but these daft lumps would cry buckets…’ She jerked her head in the direction of her sons, who were eating their tea of lamb stew and mash. ‘I’ll see my husband comes round this evenin’ and does it for yer, love…’

‘Thanks, Mrs Jackson…’ Marion said and then blushed as Reggie Jackson loomed up behind his mother. He towered over them all, a tall, broad-shouldered man with nearly black hair and blue eyes.

‘I’ll do it now, Ma,’ he said and grinned at Marion. ‘It’s my dog so my fault – and I’ll be round right away, Miss Kaye…’

Marion mumbled something and bolted. If anything terrified her more than the Jackson’s dog, it was Reggie. The way he looked at her made her want to hide herself, because there was such laughter in those eyes. Ma said Reggie Jackson was too good-looking for his own sake and the plague of all decent girls and if they weren’t careful, they’d be left with the trouble and he’d be off to some fancy foreign place without a care. Ma was prone to saying such things. She was always warning both Marion and Kathy to be careful of men, but Milly was too young to understand yet. Marion and Kathy did, despite Kathy being only days off her thirteenth birthday. They knew and they’d taken the warning to heart, because neither wanted to end up like Ma.

‘Mr Jackson is coming,’ Marion mumbled as she entered the kitchen. She loaded the rush basket with more dirty clothes and took them into the scullery, dumping them into the hot water in the copper, and started to rinse those she’d already soaked in the sink, as she heard the voices in the kitchen. The lads were laughing and talking to Reggie. They liked him and he sometimes played football with them in the street, something their father had never done.

Marion delayed her return to the kitchen until good manners drove her back. The least she could do was offer a cup of tea and, of course, payment.

The lock was finished and Kathy had already made the tea when Marion returned. Her sister was smiling, clearly enjoying Reggie’s company, as were the boys.

‘Thank you so much, Mr Jackson,’ Marion said. ‘How much do I owe you please?’

‘Nothing at all, Miss Kaye,’ he replied, his grin making her stomach clench. He had no right to be so good-looking and nice and a decent girl had better be on her guard. ‘Any little jobs you need doin’ are free to you and your family – and I still owe you for the sausages.’

‘No, that is quite fair; you’ve repaired the lock,’ Marion said.

‘I bought the sausages,’ Robbie chimed in. ‘They cost me a bob…’

Reggie laughed and looked at her. ‘I dare not give you the shillin’, Robbie – but I’ll take yer to the footie on Saturday if yer like?’

‘Thanks, Reggie!’ Robbie looked at him adoringly. ‘I don’t care if yer dog did eat me sausages if I get ter go to the footie…’

‘Right yer are then,’ Reggie said. ‘Shall we take the young’un an’ all?’ He jerked his head at Dickon and Robbie frowned but then relented.

‘Yeah, all right, he can come too…’

Marion went to the door to look at the brand-new lock. It must have cost him far more than the sausages. ‘You had no need to do that…’ she whispered, ‘but thank you…’

‘You’re welcome, Miss Kaye,’ he said and smiled at her and something in his eyes made her heart stand still before racing on. ‘Anytime, anywhere – I’m always at your service, Miss Marion…’ The twinkle in his eyes scared her to death and she took a step back. ‘Me dog likes yer – and if he thinks yer OK, yer must be…’

The cheek of him! She caught her breath as he walked away, standing to watch despite herself. At his gate, Reggie turned and winked and then he was through and walking up to his back door.

Marion returned to her work. She wanted to get all the clothes rinsed and hanging up to dry in the scullery before she went to bed – and it didn’t look as if she would have time to do the floor…