Authors: Kitty Neale
‘Mum, come on, you’ve got to eat,’ Lily ordered.
‘I ain’t hungry now. I’ll heat it up later.’
‘What about the jellied eels? Do you fancy them?’
‘Nah, not really. Anyway, girl, how’s things?’
‘Mum, don’t try to change the subject. I’m worried about you.’
‘Gawd, give it a rest. I’m fine. Is Mavis at school today or have you sent her out with the pram again?’
‘She’s in school.’
‘Not for much longer. I can’t believe she’s nearly fifteen—I’ll have to think about something for her birthday. What are you getting her?’
‘I dunno. It depends on whether Ron sends me any money.’
‘Sends it. What do you mean?’
‘He’s gone to work out of London and reckons he’ll be away for at least six months.’
‘Good riddance to bad rubbish. I should think you’re glad to see the back of him.’
‘I suppose it’ll be easier with one less mouth to feed. Ron reckons that while he’s away, he and Pete are going to save up enough to start up on their own.’
‘If you believe that, you’ll believe anything.’
‘I don’t, but you never know, he might mean it this time. In the meantime things are looking up. Mavis found me a biscuit barrel that should be worth a bit, and not only that, she’s got a little cleaning job. An hour after school and two at weekends.’
‘Blimey, fancy that. See, if she’s got herself a job she ain’t as daft as you think.’
Lily ignored the comment. Mavis hadn’t found the job herself but Lily couldn’t be bothered with explanations. She still had to sort the two boys out, and talk to their mothers. Oh, if only Ron was here to deal with it, and once again Lily knew that despite everything she was going to miss him. She also had to talk to Mavis about the birds and bees, but had no idea how to broach the subject. Sex was something her own mother had never spoken about and she’d grown up in ignorance. All right, it was a bit of a shock the first time, but it hadn’t done her any harm. Maybe a stern warning to keep away from blokes would be enough to put the frighteners up Mavis, without a long-winded explanation.
‘Mum, I’d best go. Promise me you’ll eat that stew later.’
‘Yeah, I promise.’
‘I still think you should see the doctor.’
‘Look, I’ve told you, I’m fine.’
‘Why do you have to be so stubborn?’
‘Me! It ain’t me who’s stubborn, it’s you. You’re just like your father.’
Lily had no memories of her father, a man who had been killed close to the end of the First World War in the year she’d been born. Lily knew it had been hard for her mother, could remember being looked after by her grandparents when she’d been forced to take on full-time work. ‘How come you always compare me to him?’
‘’Cos you really are like him, and not only in looks.’
‘Yeah, well, I’ll have to take your word for that.’
‘It must have been rotten for you, growing up without a dad.’
‘No, not really. I had Nan and Granddad, and I still miss them.’
‘Yeah, me too. I hate war, Lily. First I lost your dad, and then during the last conflict a bomb flattened me parents’ house, with them inside.’
‘I know, Mum,’ Lily said sadly.
‘I’ve upset us both now, and wish I hadn’t brought it up.’
‘Never mind, Mum, but I really have got to go.
I’ll pop round again in the morning, and,’ she warned, ‘I want to see that you ate that stew.’
‘Don’t worry, I will. See you tomorrow, pet.’
Leaving her mother sitting by the fire, Lily left the house. She really was too thin, and Lily knew she had to get her mother to the doctor’s somehow. For now though, she had to sort those boys out, and knowing they’d be likely to be home from school now, she hurried back to Cullen Street.
Lily went to see Tommy Wilson’s mother first, pounding on the door, her head high with righteous indignation. When it was opened, she spat, ‘I want a word with you about your son.’
‘Oh, Gawd, what’s he been up to now?’ Olive Wilson asked.
‘Him and his friend Larry got hold of my daughter on the common. The dirty little buggers showed her their willies, and pulled up her skirt.’
‘They what!’ she screeched. ‘Bloody hell, you’d better come in.’
Lily stepped inside, but when they walked into the kitchen she was puzzled by Tommy’s reaction. Instead of fear, Tommy just smiled when he saw her. He was a nice-looking lad with dark hair and green eyes, but at only fourteen, coming up fifteen, his build was tall and lanky. Lily fixed her eyes on his face, waiting to see his guilt when his mother spoke to him angrily.
‘Mrs Jackson says you got hold of her daughter. Is that right?’
‘Got hold of her. What do you mean?’
‘Did you and Larry show Mavis your thingies?’
A light seemed to dawn in Tommy’s eyes. ‘Oh, yeah, but that was about a month ago and we only did it’ cos she asked us to.’
‘She asked you to?’
‘Yeah, Mum. She’s a bit funny, a weirdo, and every chance she gets the daft cow latches on to us. She’s always trying to get us to show her our willies and, just to shut her up, we did.’
‘You’re lying,’ Lily snapped. ‘It wasn’t like that and you know it.’
‘Ask Larry if you don’t believe me,’ Tommy said.
‘Oh, I will, you can be sure of that.’
‘Tommy, swear to me that you’re telling the truth,’ Olive ordered.
‘Mum, I swear,’ Tommy said earnestly. ‘On my life, we didn’t touch her.’
Olive turned to fix her eyes on Lily. ‘I know my son and he’s telling the truth. If you ask me, it’s your daughter who needs sorting out. It sounds like she’s acting like a little tart.’
Shocked and floundering, Lily said, ‘I’ll see what Larry has to say.’ She spun around and without another word marched out of the house.
When Mavis left school she ran almost all the way to the route Sandra would take on her way home. She had to find her, to talk to her, her face pinched with anxiety as she scanned the street.
At last Mavis saw Sandra walking along, thankfully alone, and, quickening her pace, she caught up with her. ‘Sandra, please, you know what I told you this morning? Please, please, don’t tell anyone.’
‘Mavis, it’s all right. I only told my mum.’
‘Oh, no! No! She’ll pass it on to my mum. Oh, God, she’ll kill me!’ Hand over her mouth, Mavis fled.
‘Wait, you didn’t do anything wro…’
Blood pounding in her ears, Mavis didn’t hear Sandra. She ran blindly at first, but then unable to carry on she at last stopped, her chest heaving as she drew in great gulps of air. How could she go home now? How could she face her mother?
Feet dragging, Mavis made her way to Mrs Pugh’s house, and when the woman opened the door, she felt she had found sanctuary.
‘Hello, Mavis, come on in,’ the woman said. ‘You look upset. Are you all right?’
It was a quarter to five, but Mrs Pugh hadn’t said anything about her tardiness and, fighting for composure, Mavis said, ‘Ye…yes, I’m fine.’
‘I expect you’re a little nervous, but there’s no need. I’m not an ogre, though I am rather fussy when it comes to cleaning. We’ll concentrate on
the sitting room today,’ Mrs Pugh said, indicating with a crook of her finger that Mavis should follow her.
Despite feeling sick with fear at the thought of going home, Mavis found her eyes widening. The room was immaculate. There was a cream and brown brocade three piece suite, the sofa facing the fireplace and a chair each side. The curtains were also cream, sumptuous, and under the window there was a mahogany sideboard with a crystal rose bowl on top. In one corner she saw a glass-fronted cabinet, full of porcelain figurines, and now another fear made her heart pound.
Oh, please
, she inwardly begged,
don’t let me break anything
.
‘Now, Mavis, as your mother told me you can be a bit clumsy, I’ve already dusted the ornaments. I’d like you to vacuum the carpet, and then under the cushions on my three piece suite. Is that all right, my dear?’
Mrs Pugh was smiling, her voice kind. Mavis found herself relaxing a little. ‘Ye…yes.’
‘Right then, take off your coat and hang it in the hall. I don’t want any marks on my furniture, so before you start please wash your hands. You’ll then find my vacuum cleaner in the cupboard under the stairs.’
‘Wh…where do I go to wash my hands?’
‘Come with me,’ Edith Pugh said, leading Mavis
back into the hall. She then opened a door that revealed a small cloakroom with a lavatory and sink.
Mavis walked inside, and though still flustered, she couldn’t help marvelling at the luxury of an inside lav. She ran water into the sink and washed her hands, but seeing a beautiful white, fluffy towel hanging on a small rail, she looked at it worriedly. What if she marked it? Deciding not to risk it, she wiped her hands on her skirt and then stepped outside to see Edith Pugh waiting.
‘May I see your hands, Mavis?’
Surprised, Mavis held them out.
‘Yes, that’s better, but you haven’t scrubbed under your nails. I’m sorry, my dear, I know I’m fussy but, as I said, I don’t want my furniture marked. Do them again and use the nail brush this time.’
Mavis did as she was told, but even with the small nail brush it took her a long time to remove all the grime. Oh, if only she could stay here. If only she didn’t have to go home and face her mother. At last, her fingers feeling sore, she faced Mrs Pugh again, thankful that this time her hands passed inspection.
‘Right, Mavis, I’ll leave you to it,’ the woman said and after showing her the understairs cupboard, she at last went down the hall and into the kitchen.
Mavis started work, and though her mind was raging, she made sure to cover every inch of carpet around the furniture. Gran! She could go there. No, no, Gran would be just as disgusted when she found out and wouldn’t want to take her in. Yet surely going to Gran’s was better than going home.
‘Mavis, have you vacuumed under the suite?’
Startled, Mavis spun round. ‘Er…no.’
‘Well, I’m sorry, but that isn’t good enough. I told you yesterday that we’d give one room a day a thorough clean, so please don’t cut corners. Now do under the suite.’
‘Yes, Mrs Pugh,’ Mavis said meekly.
This time the woman didn’t leave, but stood watching as Mavis heaved one of the chairs to one side. It was worse when it came to the sofa, but somehow she managed to move it, thankful to see a look of approval on Mrs Pugh’s face when she’d finished.
‘Well done, Mavis, and now that just leaves under the cushions. When you’ve done that, come through to the kitchen.’
Mavis had felt uncomfortable with Mrs Pugh watching her and was glad when she left. She still wasn’t sure what to make of the woman. One minute she seemed kind, the next strict and stern—but even being here with Mrs Pugh was preferable to facing her mother.
Edith’s body was aching and she hobbled with pain to sit by the kitchen fire. Mavis had seemed nervous and upset when she arrived, but other than that, so far so good, she decided.
Mavis had meekly followed her orders and it boded well, but there was a long way to go yet. To forward her plans Edith knew she had to strike the right note. There had to be a measure of firmness, together with kindness, and somehow she had to ensure that Mavis was more presentable.
Edith laid her head back, finding that the distant hum of the vacuum cleaner was soothing. She closed her eyes, drifting, unaware that she had fallen asleep until the sound of Mavis’s voice started her awake.
‘Are you all right, Mrs Pugh?’
Edith looked up to find Mavis bending over her, the girl’s startlingly blue eyes wide with concern.
‘Yes, yes, I was just having a little nap. Have you finished in the sitting room?’
‘Yes, and I’ve put the cleaner away.’
‘Good girl,’ Edith said as she glanced at the clock. ‘You still have fifteen minutes to go, so do you think you could manage to make a cup of tea and then peel some potatoes?’
‘Er…yes.’
‘I won’t get up, but you’ll find everything you need easily enough.’
As Mavis moved away, Edith watched her every
move and at first she looked competent enough. However, when it came to handling the teapot, Edith could see that the girl’s hands were trembling. She’d prepared for this, making sure that her old Brown Betty was in use, along with a couple of odd cups and saucers. Yes, Mavis was nervous, but Edith was sure that she wasn’t as bad as Lily Jackson had indicated. In fact, she was sure that a lot of the girl’s problems were due to lack of confidence, probably a result of the constant criticism she received, and not just from her mother.
Edith had seen a lot when she’d been school secretary—had taken an interest and observed many children she was sure just needed extra help. Of course, class sizes, along with lack of time, made it impossible for the teachers to concentrate on just a few children and though some were more prepared than others to put in the extra mile, Edith was sure that what these children needed was specialised schools.
Eyes closing with sadness, Edith wished she had been able to fulfil her dream of becoming a teacher. The war and then having Alec had put paid to that. Now, of course, with multiple sclerosis, it would remain just a dream, yet perhaps, just perhaps, she could put her theories to the test with Mavis.
When the tea was made, Mavis carefully covered
the pot with the cosy, and then looked at the tray that Edith had already set with two cups and saucers, a sugar bowl and small jug of milk. ‘Pour one for both of us,’ Edith said, ‘but no sugar for me.’
Mavis looked worried, but Edith made sure she looked unconcerned. Hesitantly the girl poured two cups of tea, her hands shaking so much that tea slopped into the saucers.
‘Thank you, my dear.’
‘I…I’m sorry I spilt some.’
‘Oh, it’s only a little,’ Edith said, hiding her fastidiousness as she poured the tea from the saucer, back into her cup. ‘Do drink yours and then get on with the potatoes. Four medium-sized ones cut in half should be enough. It’s too early to put them on yet, so just leave them in a saucepan of cold water.’
‘Yes, Mrs Pugh.’
When Mavis was finished, Edith again looked at the clock. She had worked for just over an hour, but the first ten minutes had been wasted just getting the girl to wash her hands properly. However, she now needed her out of the house and struggled to her feet. ‘Thank you, Mavis. You’ve done really well and I’ll see you tomorrow.’