Authors: June Francis
‘But it’s going to be in the way there,’ she protested. ‘Can’t you hang on for half an hour. Besides we’ve got to talk.’
‘Not now.’ His tone was short. ‘I’ll see you later.’
‘OK! I suppose now isn’t the right time – but what about the Potters? Where are they?’
‘They’re finding their own way – said they wanted to have a look at Liverpool and the Shakie. He says he’s a magician. And this—’ he tapped the trunk with his boot, ‘contains his props. I’ll see you later.’ With a wave of a hand he strolled down the lobby and outside.
Ben slid off the trunk and ran after him. Kitty called him back but he took no notice and by the time she reached the front door he was running up the Mount at a fair lick. She let him go, wondering if she was losing complete control of her boys and how she would cope if Jimmy did leave. She went back inside, to be confronted by a serious-faced Annie. ‘What’s up with Jimmy?’
‘He might be leaving.’ Kitty’s tone was as calm as she could make it as she headed for the kitchen.
‘Leaving! B-but he can’t be,’ cried Annie, dogging her footsteps.
Kitty did not reply but went over to the sink and washed her hands before taking the lid off the pan of steak and kidney she had cooked earlier. She began to spoon it into two shallow dishes. ‘Put the kettle on, love.’
‘But what’ll we do without him?’ said Annie.
‘We’ll manage somehow.’ Quite how, Kitty was unsure. Since Michael had returned from the war with gas-damaged lungs he had been unable to work. So it had been Jimmy who had done all the odd jobs and heavy lifting around the place, but he had been with them longer than that. He had been too young for the Great War so he had lived with Kitty and her mother in the lodging house in Crown Street which had been their home at that time, whilst his brother had gone off to Flanders.
Annie looked as if her whole world was disintegrating. ‘But where will he go?’
‘I don’t know. He hasn’t said.’ Kitty took lard from the gas refrigerator and flour from a cupboard shelf. ‘That’s what I wanted to talk to him about – as well as to try and persuade him not to go.’ She measured out ingredients and her fingers began to work lard into flour.
Annie’s soft mouth set. ‘It’ll be difficult for him anywhere else. You must tell him that.’
‘He doesn’t need me to tell him.’ Kitty did not lift her head. ‘You know how touchy he is about not being able to read or write but never would he allow me or Ma to help him. His pride got in the way. You know the way it is with the whole male race. Have you made that tea yet?’
‘No, I don’t know,’ said Annie, her tone agitated. ‘You’re forgetting we’re all girls in our house. People could cheat him, Kit. We can’t let him go.’
Kitty was silent, considering how Michael could have taught his brother to read and write, but Jimmy’s vitality in the sick room had only served to make her husband more aware of his own physical weakness.
‘We have to do something,’ said Annie, placing a cup and a buttered scone on a plate near to Kitty’s hand.
‘I’ll speak to him,’ said Kitty.
‘You make him listen!’ Her cousin stared at her unhappily over the rim of her cup and was about to say something else when the bell rang in reception.
Kitty wiped her hands on a cloth and went into the lobby. A man was sitting on the trunk and a woman was gazing at a Victorian watercolour of wild flowers on the wall nearest to her. Both heads turned as Kitty entered.
‘Mr and Mrs Potter?’ enquired Kitty.
‘Sure are,’ he said, not bothering to rise. ‘You the help?’
‘I’m Mrs Ryan,’ she said with dignity and whipped off her apron, concealing her annoyance. She rolled down long black sleeves, fastening the buttons on the creamy lace cuffs and resisting the urge to smooth her hair. She moved towards the chiffonier which acted as a reception desk and opened the register on top of it. ‘Did you have a pleasant voyage?’
‘It was rough,’ drawled Mr Potter in an American accent. He was floridly handsome with a pencil moustache and glistening dark hair.
‘That’s the sea for you! Who’d be a sailor?’ She smiled politely, thinking how her father had been a seafarer on a whaling ship. He had been washed overboard when she was seven years old and it was after that her mother had taken in lodgers in the house in Crown Street. ‘Now if you’d like to sign the register, I’ll show you to your room. If you’d like some tea – in a quarter of an hour, say? – I’ll have it served in the Smoking Room where there’s a good fire.’ She indicated the room’s position with a wave of a hand.
‘That sounds just the ticket,’ said Mr Potter, rubbing his hands and grinning, showing a mouthful of large teeth. ‘But I want this trunk taken to our room as quick as spit. Don’t want no one interfering with it.’
Kitty felt indignant as she watched him sign the register with a flourish. What kind of establishment did he think this was? Her regulars were dependable and honest folk unlike some that were around these days. As for her other guests she had to take them on trust, just as she did him – despite the fact that since the depression there were reports of a crime somewhere or other every day in the newspapers. She reached for the key to room four and led the way upstairs. She did not linger once the Potters said everything was to their satisfaction but hurried back to the kitchen.
There was no sign of Annie and she wondered if her cousin had gone off home in search of Jimmy, hoping perhaps that she could persuade him to change his mind about leaving. Kitty put on the kettle before going through the door under the stairs which led to the family living quarters in the basement. She found Mick and Teddy sitting in front of the fire.
‘Find Jimmy,’ she ordered Mick. ‘He said he was going to your aunt’s house. Ask him can he move himself fast? That trunk has to be shifted. Mr Potter’s complaining. Besides someone might hurt themselves falling over it and I can’t afford to be sued for damages. If Annie’s there, tell her to get back right away. I need her.’
Mick departed and she turned to Teddy. ‘What about you? Can you walk?’
‘If I have to,’ he said, gazing at her with his father’s dark eyes and struggling to his feet.
‘Perhaps not,’ she said, and pushed him back down into the chair with a sigh. ‘I hope you cleansed that wound properly.’
‘It stung, Ma. Dad would have said it was a waste of good whiskey but Gran used to say they cleaned wounds in the Bible with alcohol.’
She smiled faintly. ‘Your gran was right but just in case – if that wound does start going bad you must tell me right away. Embarrassment or not, son. I don’t want you dying on me.’ Even though he was forever getting into mischief she loved the bones of him. He had what her mother had called spunk and she admired that in him.
He nodded and she left him and went upstairs to see to the Potters’ tea herself before finishing the steak and kidney pies and popping them in the oven of the grey-enamelled range.
Mick and Annie arrived a few minutes later but her cousin promptly disappeared into the dining room to set the tables. ‘Jimmy wasn’t there,’ said Mick. ‘Aunt Jane said he came and went in half an hour.’
Kitty’s brows knitted. What did Jimmy think she was paying him for? It certainly wasn’t for him to come and go when he pleased or to sit staring into space the way he had done since her mother had died. He was not the only one having to work harder whilst grieving. She remembered the days when he had been dependable and they could have a good laugh about the difficult guests. ‘Did he say where he was going?’
‘No. Only that he wanted to leave our Ben with her but he wouldn’t stay and went after him. Will I see to the fires now, Ma?’ She nodded and left him to it, determinedly putting thoughts of Jimmy aside whilst she went on with her preparations for the evening meal.
The guests had been fed and the dishes washed and stacked away. There was nothing to do until hot water bottles needed filling, and tea and biscuits were served at ten. Kitty was toasting her toes on the fender, trying to relax but giving only part of her mind to reading the
Liverpool Echo.
Jimmy and Ben were still not home and Annie had left half an hour ago. Even as Kitty’s eyes scanned an article about an Austrian called Hitler being made Chancellor of Germany, she was worrying about the two missing males in her life. She glanced at Mick who was reading a couple of pages of her newspaper and wondered whether to send him in search of them.
As if aware of her scrutiny, her son looked up. ‘You’re not worrying about those two, are you, Ma? I’m sure there’s no need.’
‘You’re probably right.’ She forced a smile, considering what a comfort he was, which reminded her in a peculiar way of Teddy’s torn and bloodied underpants and trousers. She should have put them in to soak, she thought wearily, but hopefully the blood would still come out. She might as well mend them first, though. She reached for her work basket.
‘Edward G Robinson’s on the pictures next week,’ said Mick.
Teddy glanced up. ‘In that new gangster film?’
Mick nodded.
‘Could we go, Ma?’ said Teddy, looking at her eagerly. ‘It seems ages since we’ve been to the pictures.’
‘I don’t think you deserve a treat after getting stuck on those railings,’ she said, squinting as she threaded a needle with grey cotton and wondering whether she should get glasses. Her eyesight was definitely not as good as it used to be but giving in and buying a pair would be tantamount to admitting she was no longer young.
‘That damn Scottie made me feel a fool.’
‘That Scottie saved your bacon,’ said Mick, stroking the cat as it landed on the sheet of newspaper spread across his knees. ‘And you shouldn’t swear in front of Ma. Dad would have said it’s not gentlemanly.’
He would have too
, thought Kitty as she set jagged large stitches. He had believed women needed protecting from the harsher side of life despite the reversal of their marital roles.
‘I don’t count damn as a swear word,’ said Teddy.
‘It is, you know. You’re cursing the Scottie and condemning him to hell,’ said Mick earnestly.
Kitty pictured the Scotsman and thought there was a man who could certainly protect a woman if she needed protecting. He had been so big and strong and for a moment she had been physically stirred by his presence in a way she had not been by a man for a long time.
‘Oh shut up, know-all!’ Teddy kicked out at Mick and the next moment his arm was about his elder brother’s neck, attempting to drag him off his chair and onto the floor. The cat yowled and struggled free.
Kitty was thoroughly incensed and not pleased at being roused from her daydream. ‘Teddy, don’t be stupid! You’ll hurt yourself.’ She jumped up from her chair and flicked him across the head with his trousers, but part of her mind was still thinking about the Scottie and wondering what he had made of her when his greeny-brown eyes had passed over her. Thoughtful eyes, seeing eyes! Had they only seen her outer appearance, though? The wispy-haired, anxious mother nudging middle age.
At that moment the door to the outside railed area opened and Jimmy’s face appeared in the gap. Teddy freed his brother and Mick straightened his collar.
‘What’s going on?’ Jimmy slid round the door carrying Ben.
‘Nothing!’ chorused the brothers, sitting down feet away from each other.
Kitty crossed the room and took her sleeping son from Jimmy. ‘Where’ve you been? I’ve been worried sick. It’s almost half past nine.’
Her brother-in-law squared his jaw. ‘Ask no questions and you’ll get told no lies!’
Never had he spoken to Kitty in such a way and her temper rose. ‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’
‘What I said. You’re not my keeper and I’ve a right to me privacy.’
‘You’ve got a cheek,’ she said, sitting down with Ben on her knee. His eyelashes flicked open and then closed as he snuggled against her. ‘Privacy is a luxury none of us have in this household. As for being your keeper that’s the last thing I want to be. Besides I was worried about Ben, not you. It’s well past his bedtime.’
‘You should know I wouldn’t be letting any harm come to him.’ He scowled. ‘And anyway he shouldn’t have followed me.’
‘He’s fond of you! You must know how fond. I can just imagine how he’ll feel if you leave. You won’t will you, Jimmy?’ she said quietly. ‘You know how much I depend on your help.’
‘My help,’ he grunted, his cheeks flushing. ‘That’s all I am, though, isn’t it, Kit, a help?’
‘What’s wrong with being a help?’ she demanded. ‘I pay you, don’t I?’
‘Yeah, but—’ He stopped abruptly. ‘I
will
be leaving, Kit, unless things change. But I’ll tell you when in my own good time.’
‘As long as you do.’ Her voice softened as she wondered what things he wanted changing. Hopefully he just wanted more money, but he’d have to pull his socks up to get it. ‘You’ll be wanting your dinner,’ she said. ‘It’s your favourite, steak and kidney pie.’
He looked uncomfortable. ‘Me and Ben’ve ate.’
‘Ate!’ She could not believe his thoughtlessness. Food cost money and she could not afford to waste it. ‘Where did you eat? Not at Annie’s?’
His chin came up again. ‘Last thing I’d do. Her family’s another one that would interfere in a man’s life. Families have no right to interfere. Now is there anything you want me to do?’
Kitty was starting to feel puzzled as well as annoyed. Who could have said that about family not interfering? But perhaps now was not the right time to ask. ‘The Potters’ trunk. Mick’ll give you a hand.’
She watched them go out, wondering if there was a girl involved. Someone as good-looking as Jimmy was bound to have had women interested in him. Suddenly Ben opened his eyes and looked up at her. ‘Where’s Jimmy gone?’
‘He’s gone to do a job. Where did you go with him?’
‘Out,’ he said, and wriggled down from her knee.
Kitty placed herself swiftly in his path and carried his struggling, chubby, little body back to her chair. ‘Where’s out?’
He gave her a measured look. ‘Jimmy said it was a secret and not to tell.’
Did he indeed?
thought Kitty and brought her head closer to Ben’s. ‘You could tell me. I’ll keep it a secret,’ she whispered.