Stay as Sweet as You Are (6 page)

‘Yer won’t if he starts cheating,’ Greg said. ‘He’s very good at cheating, is our Jack. Aren’t I right, Mam?’

‘It takes one to know one, sunshine, and I’d say that when it comes to cheating, you’d win hands down.’

Lucy had been listening with interest. ‘Mrs Pollard, d’yer think yer’d better teach me how to cheat so I’m in with a chance?’

The brothers thought this was hilarious and once again the room rang with laughter. She was good fun, was Lucy Mellor, and they hoped their mam would ask her to come again.

Bob Mellor lowered the newspaper and looked across at his wife. ‘Can yer hear them next door? They’re having the time of their lives, and I’ve never heard our Lucy laugh like that for years. It’s about time she had someone her own age to play with.’

Ruby’s scowl deepened. ‘I still think Irene is a miserable cow. She should doll herself up and go to the pub with her husband on a Saturday night, instead of sitting in playing stupid games. Some wife she is, letting him go out on his own all the time.’

‘She won’t go out and leave the boys on their own. Besides, Irene is not a drinker and doesn’t enjoy sitting in a pub all night. George doesn’t mind, he understands. It isn’t as if they never go out together, they often go to the pictures.’

Ruby’s lip curled. ‘Aye, with the kids in tow.’

‘Which is the way they want it. Those boys are their life, and that’s the way it should be. They are a very happy family, and George and Irene have a good marriage.’ Bob raised the paper but couldn’t concentrate, the words kept running into each other. So he went back to his thoughts. He envied George and Irene and their two children. They were what he would call a perfect family. They laughed together, played together and their love for each other was there for all to see. It wasn’t only the wall that separated the two families, it was everything. And his daughter would be experiencing the difference tonight.

Bob rustled the paper as he crossed his legs to make himself more comfortable. He tried to think back to a time when things started to go wrong with his marriage. After much soul-searching he realised things hadn’t gone wrong, they were never right! Oh, Ruby had kept the house clean and fed them well. She made sure his clothes were washed and ironed ready for work and his socks were always neatly darned. She’d looked after Lucy properly, too, when she was little, buying her pretty clothes and taking her for walks to the park so she could play on the swings. Bob had been very
content in his marriage in those early years, thinking they had everything for a long and happy life. It was only now, looking back, he realised there’d always been something missing: the most important ingredient in any marriage – and that was love and affection. It hadn’t worried him at first that Ruby never hugged or kissed him, he thought she was shy. And when she spurned his advances in bed he blamed himself for being over-passionate and selfish.

He shifted restlessly in the chair. Surely to God, in all those years, when she never once kissed or hugged him spontaneously, he should have realised she didn’t have any love or affection to give. He must have been blind, or was it simply that he didn’t want to rock the boat? Anything for an easy life, that was him. But he should have realised his baby daughter wasn’t getting the love she deserved, either. When he wasn’t at work, the child was always handed over to him to nurse and play with. He was the one who tucked her up in bed after a kiss and cuddle. The signs were there, but he didn’t see them. He thought Ruby lavished her love on the child when he was at work. How could he have been so wrong? Lucy was nearly twelve years of age now, and had never known a mother’s love.

‘It’s a quarter to ten,’ Ruby said, through gritted teeth. ‘Yer’d better go and get her because they wouldn’t think of sending her home.’

Bob threw the paper down and left the room without a word. He had nothing to say to this woman who left her child on her own while she was in a pub drinking with her so-called friends. A woman who gave clouts instead of kisses and used foul language instead of words of praise. A woman who had the gall to scoff at a fine person like Irene Pollard for putting her beloved children before herself.

Jack opened the door wide. ‘Come in, Mr Mellor, we’re just finishing a game.’

Bob’s troubled mind eased when he saw the joy on his daughter’s face. She was bouncing up and down on the chair
looking more relaxed and happy than he’d ever seen her. ‘There’s no need to ask if yer’ve enjoyed yerself, pet, it’s written all over yer.’

Lucy held out her hand. ‘Look, Dad, I’ve won six buttons. That means I’ve won two games.’

‘Has she behaved herself, Irene?’ Bob asked.

‘Behaved herself! She hasn’t been a ha’porth of trouble. In fact, we’ve had more of a laugh tonight than we’ve ever had. She’s got quite a sense of humour, has Lucy, she’s had us in stitches. My sons are not very good losers, I’m afraid, but tonight they paid up without any argument. In fact, it was worth losing to see her face.’

‘Can she come again, Mr Mellor?’ Jack asked. ‘We haven’t half enjoyed ourselves.’

‘As long as yer mam doesn’t mind. But not when it’s school the next day.’

Jack’s shoulders went back and his chest came out. ‘I won’t have to worry about school soon – I leave in four weeks. I’ll be getting meself a job, then, and me mam’s going to buy me some long trousers.’

‘Good for you, son. I can still remember getting me first pair of long trousers, and me first pay packet. And did I think I was somebody that day! Oh boy, me head was so big I couldn’t get through the front door. And me mam, God rest her soul, was standing in the hallway with her hand out for me pay packet. She was only joking, like, and we had a good laugh about it. Not that I didn’t have to give it to her unopened, mind, ’cos I did. And with me shilling pocket money burning a hole in me pocket, I swaggered down the street like James Cagney. I went to the picturehouse and bought meself a fourpenny ticket for the front stalls.’

‘Good old days, eh, Bob?’ Irene smiled. ‘A shilling in yer pocket and not a care in the world. And a bob went a long way in those days, I can remember.’

‘It went up to one and six when I got me first rise, and I thought meself a rich man.’ Bob sighed inwardly, thinking
how carefree life had been when he was a youngster. ‘Come on, pet, it’s ten o’clock, Mrs Pollard will be wanting to get the boys to bed.’

‘Ah, ay!’ Greg cried. ‘We’re in the middle of a hand. Can’t we finish it?’

‘No,’ Irene said firmly. ‘Yer dad will be in any minute. Put the cards back in the boxes and put them in the sideboard, ready for next time.’

Lucy didn’t want the night to end and was sad as she pushed her chair back under the table. ‘Thank you for having me, Mrs Pollard, I’ve had a smashing time.’

‘It’s been a pleasure having yer, sunshine, and ye’re welcome to come at any time. And don’t forget that, either. Any time, night or day, for whatever reason, just give us a knock.’

Bob was working the night shift the following week, and on the Monday night he was hammering an iron rod into shape when the whistle sounded to down tools for their break. He worked in an iron foundry near the Dock Road, where they made everything from small nuts and bolts to huge girders. He’d worked there since he left school and was skilled in all the jobs, so was able to move from a furnace to one of the machines when needed. He got on well with the blokes he worked with, who were easygoing and always willing to help. If one of them was off-colour and not able to keep up the pace, they’d all muck in to keep his job going so he wouldn’t have any pay docked from his wages. They all had families to support and every penny counted.

Bob brought the hammer down one more time, then satisfied the rod was perfect he laid it beside the pile he’d been working on, and reached for his carry-out. He could just go a cup of tea, his mouth was parched. He quickened his steps and caught up with Billy Gleeson, who’d been working nearby. ‘Me mouth feels like sandpaper.’

‘Aye,’ said Billy, ‘it’s the heat from those bleedin’ furnaces
what does it. The sweat pours off yer, but yer mouth stays as dry as a ruddy bone.’

They walked past the nut and bolt section to the canteen, and as soon as they walked through the door, Billy groaned. ‘Blimey, listen to those cackling women. They put me in mind of a flock of turkeys being chased by a farmer with a ruddy hatchet.’

‘I heard that, Billy Gleeson, yer cheeky bugger,’ one of the women shouted. ‘Yer want to listen to yerself some time.’

‘Oh, ye’re there, are yer, Peg? If yer’ve nowt else going for yer, girl, yer’ve got a good pair of lug-holes on yer. I bet if yer shut up long enough to listen, yer’d hear Big Ben chiming.’ Billy was smiling as he made his way to the table where the women were sitting. ‘Move up and make room for me and Bob.’

‘I’ve a good mind to tell yer to sod off,’ Peg Butterworth said as she shuffled her bottom along the wooden bench. ‘Turkeys, indeed.’

Bob waited for his mate to sit down, then slid on to the end of the seat. He winked at the woman facing him. ‘Billy knows how to flatter a woman, doesn’t he, Kate? He’s just oozing with charm.’

There were eight women on the shift and their job was sorting and inspecting the thousands of nuts and bolts turned out every day. They were a happy bunch, even if their language would make your hair curl. They could certainly hold their own, too, and gave the men back as good as they got. But Kate Brown was the odd one out. She was always pleasant but kept herself to herself. She was quietly spoken and never a swearword passed her lips. Bob knew she was a widow with a young daughter to keep, and he often thought it must be hard for her trying to hold down a job and bring up a child. But apparently her mother was good and helped out by minding the daughter when Kate was at work.

‘That’s why all the women run after him,’ she said now, her
shy smile appearing. ‘With his looks and personality, he’s a real ladykiller.’

‘I’ll have to keep me eye on him, then, to see if I can pick up a few tips.’ Bob was smiling when he took the lid off his carry-out box, but when he saw the contents his jaw dropped and he couldn’t keep the words back. ‘Bloody hell!’

Kate followed his eyes and gasped. There were two rounds of bread in the box and they were cut as thick as doorsteps. ‘Did yer daughter do yer carry-out?’

Bob tried to control his temper as he shook his head. ‘No, the missus did it.’ He lifted the top slice of bread and it took all his willpower not to shout out in anger. In the centre of the sandwich was a piece of brawn about two inches square. He couldn’t believe his eyes. What the hell did his wife take him for? Did she think he was a bloody fool who wouldn’t mind being belittled in front of his workmates? She hadn’t even bothered to cut the bread in two, and if he lifted the huge sandwich out of the box as it was, he’d be a laughing stock. Thankfully, apart from Kate, the others were too busy yapping to have noticed.

He put the lid back on the box in disgust. He’d throw it at her when he got home, along with a piece of his mind. He’d rather starve than eat it. ‘We had a blazing row over the weekend, and this is my dear wife’s way of getting her own back.’

Kate’s heart went out to him. ‘A bit drastic, isn’t it?’

‘I think the word that suits her best is spiteful. Still, I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.’

Kate’s eyes swept around those sitting at the table and, confident that no one was looking, she slipped two of her sandwiches across the table and put them at the side of his box, out of sight. ‘It’s not much, but it’ll keep the hunger pangs at bay. And I’ve got a cake yer can have, too, thanks to me mam. She does the baking, and even though I shouldn’t boast, she’s a dab hand at it. My sandwich cakes always sink in the middle, but not hers. And her fairy cakes melt in yer mouth.’

Kate knew she was talking too much, but it was only to stop any embarrassment Bob might feel. And she sighed with relief when he nodded his thanks and picked up one of the butties. ‘They’re only meat-paste, I’m afraid, me money doesn’t run to boiled ham. But they’ll fill a hole.’

‘Beggars can’t be choosers, Kate, and besides, they’re very tasty. I’m beholden to yer on two counts.’

Kate raised her brows questioningly. ‘How d’yer make that out?’

‘Well, for helping to stop my tummy from rumbling for one thing, and for not laughing yer head off like some would have done. I really appreciate that.’

A faint blush came over Kate’s face. ‘I’ve not done anything the others wouldn’t have done if they’d known.’

‘Oh, they’d have helped, I know that. But they’d have made a song and dance about it.’ Bob leaned closer. ‘I could have said me wife had played a joke on me, and they’d have laughed their heads off. But I’m not lying about it. It was done for spite, and the missus will be sorry she signed when I get home.’

Kate, her hair hidden beneath the turban all the women had to wear on the shop floor, showed a set of strong white teeth when she smiled. ‘Having a row won’t solve anything, it seldom does. Wouldn’t it be better to just kiss and make up?’

Bob gazed at her for a second before lowering his head. He had no right to burden this woman with his problems, she probably had more than enough of her own. So he met her hazel eyes and smiled. ‘Yeah, ye’re right. I’ll probably throw me carry-out at her, then give her a cuddle. It beats a black eye any day, doesn’t it?’

Billy Gleeson, who’d suddenly realised Bob hadn’t contributed anything to the general conversation going on around the table, turned to him. ‘What beats a black eye, mate?’

Kate surprised herself by stepping in. ‘A fairy cake. I was just asking Bob if he’d like one. Me mam baked a batch today and put two in with me carry-out. I couldn’t eat both of
them so I was trying to palm one off on Bob.’

Holding out his hand, Bob said, ‘Which I accept with pleasure.’

Billy pursed his lips and tapped the side of his long, thin nose. ‘They say the way to a man’s heart is through his tummy, Kate, but don’t forget this feller’s a married man. In other words he’s took, spoken for.’

‘Men are the last thing on me mind, Billy.’ Kate flicked a crumb from her chin. ‘I’d rather have a fairy cake any day.’