Authors: Anne Bennett
‘None better,’ Meg agreed, and then took a deep breath. She didn’t know how her father would take to the idea of her wearing her dead mother’s clothes. ‘The point is, Daddy, what do you want me to do with Mom’s things now?’
‘What d’you mean?’
‘Well, Mom was going to buy me some new things for starting work,’ Meg said. ‘The ones I have now don’t fit too well.’
Charlie looked at his daughter and saw that she was right. Her skirts were far too short and her buttons were strained across her bodice. He was ashamed that he hadn’t seen these things for himself.
‘My boots pinch my feet too,’ Meg said. ‘But if you wouldn’t mind me adapting Mom’s clothes to fit me, Jenny could have my things and Sally have Jenny’s and it will only be the boys who will have to have new things for the winter – and Ruth, of course.’
Charlie drew in a deep breath. ‘I don’t say that it won’t cut me to the quick to see you in Maeve’s things, but if she were beside me this moment she would berate me for being stupid. She has no need of clothes and you have, you all have, so take what you need and I will learn to deal with it.’
Charlie’s eyes were like pools of pain and Meg cried, ‘Oh, Dad, are you sure?’
Charlie shook his head. ‘I’m not sure of anything much anymore, Meg,’ he said. ‘But I do know that it’s the sensible thing to do. Oh, Meg, Meg, I’ve been little help to you these past weeks.’
‘Oh, Dad, don’t,’ Meg said, embarrassed.
‘I know I’ve been selfish,’ Charlie said, ‘and I don’t blame you looking like that. My brothers have both been on about how I was behaving, but somehow I couldn’t see any way forward and drinking blurred it a bit. I missed your mother so much, and then the child … every time I looked at her, it brought it all back.’
‘I know, Dad,’ Meg said. ‘I feel Mom’s loss too, but it isn’t Ruth’s fault.’
‘I know that really,’ Charlie said, ‘but somehow I can’t feel for her the way I do about you and the others.’
‘Oh, Dad.’
Charlie looked at the tears sparkling in his daughter’s eyes. ‘Don’t take on, old girl,’ he said. ‘I’m doing my best and I’m determined to change. I reckon I have wallowed in grief long enough. Time to take up the reins again.’
Meg was delighted to hear her father’s words; if he meant them, their way forward would be easier. She thought of saying more about Ruth, but in the end said nothing. If he didn’t spend all the time in the pub and saw more of her, Meg thought he was bound to fall under Ruth’s spell, as the others had. Until that happened, she didn’t want to rock the boat. One day at a time, she told herself as she mounted the stairs to the attic.
Billy had his fifth birthday and there was a little tea party for him with all the delicacies that he liked. May had helped her to make a cake with five candles on it and had also given Billy a couple of toy cars that he was thrilled with. Meg bought him a small blackboard and a packet of chalks that she had seen in the Market Hall at a very reasonable price. Billy’s attention had been taken at the time with the animals at Pimm’s pet shop, so he hadn’t known a thing about it. ‘You can practise for going to school.’ She told him. ‘Only you’ll have a slate there, but it’s more or less the same thing.’ He unwrapped it and gave a cry of delight.
Billy’s fifth birthday seemed to bring the thought even closer that he would soon be a school boy and Meg realized that she would miss his company though Ruth would miss him more because they had become very good friends. And every Friday morning after paying the rent, rain or shine, she would push Ruth in her pram to the Bull Ring to shop for the bargain vegetables and meat. It was a hefty walk for little legs, so Billy would usually be hoisted up on the end of the pram for part of the journey there. He could sometimes hitch a ride back too. It would depend on how much produce Meg could pack around Ruth, or stuff into the large bag she had hanging from the pram handle.
Meg loved going to the Bull Ring now that she didn’t have to hang about to be given meat and vegetables no one else had wanted, but could buy from the costers, like any other respectable person. She seldom went to the Bull Ring without remembering her meeting with Joy. She knew it was unlikely she would see her again but, Joy or no Joy, the Bull Ring was an exciting place. Meg liked the noise, the riotous energy of the place, the special smells that rose in the air and the banter and cries of the costers.
Billy was always as good as gold on these trips because he knew that if he behaved himself there was a chance Meg would take him into the Market Hall to play with the animals in Pimm’s pet shop and see the clock strike. It was the highlight of his visit, and willing hands were always around to whisk the pram up and down the steps to the Market Hall, as if it weighed nothing at all. While Meg scrutinised the prices of the various goods on sale, Billy was entranced by the twittering canaries, the colourful budgerigars and the squawking parrot that called out incessantly, ‘Who’s a pretty boy, then?’ He also liked the fish swimming endlessly around their bowls and the baby rabbits and guinea pigs, but best of all were the mewling kittens and the playful boisterous puppies that nipped at his fingers.
When the clock chimed as a prelude to striking the hour it drew everyone’s attention. A sort of hush came over the place as the figures of three knights and a lady struck the bell denoting the hour.
Billy always gave a sigh when it was over. ‘I love that clock.’ he’d say nearly every week as they made their way home. Meg could have said she liked the clock too, for waiting for the clock to strike was the only time in the day that Billy stopped chattering for two minutes at a time.
Though Terry had been doubtful that his father would change that much, he had been pleasantly surprised. He no longer slipped into the pub on his way home on a Thursday, when one swift drink would turn into half a dozen in the twinkling of an eye, but instead brought his wages home to Meg as he had done to Maeve and took out some pocket money for himself that would pay for his ciggies and beer.
He began to go again to the football matches on Saturday afternoons with his brothers and Terry, and promised Billy he would take him along soon, and he gave all the children money to go to the thruppenny crush on Saturday morning. Meg was pleased to see all of them warming once again to the father who had been lost to them for a little while.
Aunt Rosie, who greatly admired Meg and the way she had stepped up to take over the family, popped in one afternoon for a cup of tea and asked her if she had ever resented giving up her dreams.
‘No,’ Meg said. ‘Resent is the wrong word. I promised Mom I would look after them all and I want to keep my word, but I can’t help being envious of other girls who don’t have my responsibilities.’
‘And what of your own future?’
‘That’s on hold until all the children are grown and settled,’ Meg said, but she said it without the slightest shred of self-pity. Rosie was impressed by her maturity and she said this to Meg.
Meg smiled. ‘Nicholas said almost exactly the same thing the day of Mom’s funeral.’
‘Did he?’
‘Yes,’ Meg said. ‘I think in many ways he feels a bit like a fish out of water.’
Rosie nodded. ‘Robert thinks that too.’
‘Well, he’s neither one thing nor the other,’ Meg said. ‘He hardly knows your lads or our Terry because he has never been allowed to mess around with them, and yet he never brings friends home from that posh school or talks about going to their houses or out with them at the weekend.’
‘Susan says he has lots of homework.’
‘I suppose he will have,’ Meg said. ‘But surely not every hour of every day? All this studying is making him look different and, however clever he is, no schoolwork is as good as having friends to knock about with.’
‘It does sound very lonely,’ Rosie said. ‘But the worm might be turning because your uncle Alec was saying that since the funeral Nicholas has been pulling against the apron strings and he hasn’t been as keen as doing his mother’s bidding as he was. Even argued with her, he said, and he had never heard him do that before.’
‘I’m surprised Uncle Alec has had nothing to say about it before now,’ Meg said.
‘He did try to have a hand in raising the boy at first,’ Rosie said, ‘but Susan made it plain that rearing her child was her business. A man can be too easy-going, and that is our Alec. The general consensus is that Alec is a decent enough fellow, but that Susan is rather snooty, and the way she keeps her lad to his books is neither right nor healthy. Turning him into a mommy’s boy, people say. And for a quiet life Alec has sat back and let her ruin the lad.’
Meg hadn’t thought Nicholas ruined, just lonely, and so she was pleased when Terry came in the following Saturday morning after playing football in Calthorpe Park with his friends to say that Nicholas had not only turned up to play with them but had brought a proper leather ball. Charlie, who had just come home from work for his dinner, was also surprised at what Terry had said. ‘That’s a turn-up for the books, ain’t it?’
Terry nodded. ‘I’ll say it is.
‘Never even knew he owned a football.’
‘Nor me,’ Terry said. ‘It’s brand-new, like: never been used.’
‘Is he any good at football?’ Meg asked.
‘No he ain’t,’ Terry said emphatically. ‘He’s flipping useless. Our Billy could play better than him. He don’t even play football at his school. He plays summat called “rugger”. Anyway,’ he added, ‘he said he’ll have to learn the rules so he is going with his dad to a match this afternoon.’
Nicholas didn’t enjoy the football match because he barely knew his cousins. In the company of Uncle Robert’s sons, Stan and Dave, he felt like a baby. Dave was the same age as Nicholas but in September he had joined his father at Dunlop’s, where sixteen-year-old Stan had been working for two years. As they barely knew Nicholas they tended to talk mainly to Terry.
And Nicholas decided it was all very well for his mother to crow on about how getting a good education now would mean a better job in the future, Nicholas thought, but in the meantime these were his relatives and the people he lived among, and he hardly knew them. He hadn’t made friends with many boys at school either, because most of them came from much more affluent backgrounds and he was nervous about their finding out he lived in a back-to-back house. There were bullies at the school who he was sure would make his life a misery if it ever got out. In contrast, there hadn’t got to be any pretence with his cousins, so he decided there and then to get to know them better, to take charge of his own life and try and make his mother understand that he wasn’t a little boy any more.
By the end of October Meg knew she had to get some winter clothes for Ruth, when she did the usual Friday shopping. Charlie had given her the extra money she had asked for and Terry had told her to go ahead and not to rush back, that they could make something for themselves at lunchtime.
Meg thought it was nice to be able to take her time and not have one eye on the clock, so after she had bought her usual purchases, she and Billy made for the Market Hall. As usual the pram was carried up the steps by willing helpers and Billy had his play with the animals at Pimm’s pet shop before they set off to look around the stalls for clothes for Ruth. They watched the clock strike midday and then Meg found a stall with some beautiful baby clothes, including a fair number of winter-weight dresses. Most were not new, but Ruth wouldn’t care about that. They were very pretty, for although they were mainly white or cream they had pretty designs on them or beautiful smocking or contrasting collars. There were fluffy little cardigans and warm pram sets with matching bonnets and bootees, and they were all so reasonable she was pleased to be able to buy a big bundle of clothing.
‘All for you, this is, miss,’ she told the baby, who rewarded her with a smile.
‘Well, long time no see,’ said a voice beside her.
Meg swung round. ‘Joy,’ she cried. ‘How lovely to see you again.’
‘Yes,’ Joy agreed. ‘I come here most Fridays and have a mooch round and a bite to eat usually, in the café. Like to join me and we can have a natter?’
‘Oh, I don’t think …’
Joy knew what was bothering Meg. ‘My treat today,’ she said.
‘Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly—’
‘Course you could,’ Joy said. ‘Got paid today so I’m flush at the moment.’ And then she glanced at Billy and with a wink she said, ‘Bet you’d like something to eat?’
Billy, who was always hungry, nodded his head with gusto. ‘Not half,’ he said.
Joy laughed. ‘Come on,’ she urged. ‘You can’t leave yet anyway ’cos it’s pouring.’
Joy was right, Meg realised, for outside the rain was coming down in sheets. ‘Just a cup of tea then,’ she conceded.
But Joy wasn’t content for Meg to sit there with just a cup of tea and she ordered egg on toast for the three of them, followed by doughnuts. What impressed Billy most was the fact that she got tea for him too, which he often didn’t get at home, and she didn’t mind that he put three spoonfuls of sugar in it. Although he saw Meg frown at him, he took no heed of that, knowing that she was unlikely to tell him off in front of her friend.
After they had finished Meg fed Ruth, and still they talked on. Billy swung his legs and listened while he licked the sugar off his fingers. Joy felt immeasurably sorry for Meg, who, though her little brother was sweet and the baby delightful, wouldn’t be able to have any sort of life for many years.
Meanwhile Joy was enjoying her new-found freedom and the money she earned each week. Some she had to pay to her mother, but what she had left was enough to buy clothes in the Bull Ring, or C & A Modes for better-quality clothes. She also went to the pictures once a week and had started taking dancing lessons with friends she had been to school with. She had been drawn to make friends with Meg from the day she had taken her up for her interview in Lewis’s and now she felt she would like to help her in some way.
‘How about if we meet up here every Friday?’ she suggested.
Meg shook her head. ‘I have to be back by lunchtime. The children come home for dinner, you see. Today they are seeing to themselves,’ she added, ‘because I had to buy Ruth some new clothes.’