The Pearly Queen (6 page)

‘Got to let 'er get it out of 'er system,' said Dad.

‘Jimmy,' said Aunt Edie, fishing in her shopping bag, ‘take these to your sisters, there's a love.' She gave him two paper bags, each containing half a pound of Walters Palm Toffee. ‘I just want to talk to your dad for a bit.'

‘Go easy on him,' said Jimmy, and left them to it.

‘I'm goin' to do what I shouldn't,' said Aunt Edie, ‘I'm goin' to interfere.'

‘Help yourself,' said Dad, ‘it won't be interference to me, old girl. But watch out for 'er brolly, I've just been poked with it meself.'

‘If it comes to a fight,' said Aunt Edie, ‘I'll hold me own. She's in the bedroom, is she?'

‘She'll be on her way out any minute,' said Dad, who thought a stand-up between his wife and Edie might make Saturday rattle a bit.

‘You stay here,' said Aunt Edie, and rustled forth to give battle, with Dad wishing her good luck.

The bedroom door was shut. Aunt Edie knocked and entered. Mother, dressed in her black costume and black hat, was just taking hold of the handle of an old leather suitcase. She looked up. Surprise put a question mark on her face.

‘Edie? What're you doin' here?' she asked.

Aunt Edie closed the door. ‘I'm not doin' anything yet,' she said, ‘but I'm just about to start. I can 'ardly believe what I've just 'eard, that you're goin' off on some religious work, that you're leavin' your fam'ly.'

‘The Lord's called me to take up ‘Is sword,' said Mother proudly.

‘Don't make me spit,' said Aunt Edie.

‘Don't you spit in 'ere,' said Mother.

‘That's a laugh,' said Aunt Edie. ‘Look at it.' The room was untidy. ‘You 'aven't even made the bed.'

‘I 'appen to have more important work,' said Mother, ‘and I'm now goin' out to get on with it.'

‘You've been a bit daft for ages,' said Aunt Edie, ‘but I never thought you'd go off and leave the kind of fam'ly you've got.'

‘Don't you talk to me like that, Edie Harper,' said Mother, taking umbrage, ‘I 'appen to have the privilege of bein' accepted into the League of Repenters.'

‘Sounds like another name for a loony bin,' said Aunt Edie.

‘Oh, what impertinence,' said Mother. ‘I'll 'ave you know we've come together by the grace of God.'

‘I bet,' said Aunt Edie. ‘All right, so God and all 'Is wondrous works are out there somewhere, even if I 'aven't seen many of them meself. But it's no good you bein' in a hurry to shake 'ands with Him. You'll 'ave to wait till you pass on, like the rest of us, and while you're waitin,' Maud Andrews, remember your work's down 'ere on earth with your fam'ly, and don't you forget it.'

‘More impertinence,' exclaimed Mother. It was hard to believe just how much impertinence there was about these days.

‘You ought to be ashamed of yourself,' said Aunt Edie, her sparks flying. ‘Look at you, dressed fit for a funeral, your bedroom not tidied up, the bed not made, and I don't know what else. Nor don't I know how a woman with your kind of fam'ly can talk about 'aving had a call from the Lord. If it was me, I'd tell the Lord to find someone else.'

‘Oh, what blasphemy!' cried Mother, and raised her umbrella.

‘You poke me with that,' said Aunt Edie, ‘and you'll wish you 'adn't. I've watched you for years, you and your silly ways, and you can count yourself lucky you've got a 'usband like Jack. Anyone else would 'ave put you over 'is knees and spanked you long ago. Jack works long hours and 'ard ones, and deserves a bit better than what you're givin' him.'

‘Do you 'appen to be referring to Mr Andrews, my 'usband in wedlock?' asked Mother distantly.

‘Don't get high and mighty with me, Maud,' said Aunt Edie. ‘I know too much about you. Religion's for Sunday church, not for askin' a wife and mother to spend every hour of every day goin' about in a trance.'

‘Leave my house,' ordered Mother.

‘Not before I've finished speakin' me piece,' said Aunt Edie. ‘Your trouble is you don't know when you're well off, you've got what a lot of women would be more than 'appy with, a home, a good 'usband, and a son and two girls that's a credit to any fam'ly. I'll come right out with it, Maud, if Jack, Patsy, Betsy and Jimmy were mine, I'd thank the Lord for me blessings, not go off and leave them. Now what're you doin', what've you got your eyes shut for?'

‘I'm prayin',' said Mother. With her eyes still closed, she nodded and murmured. ‘Yes, thank you, Lord, yes, all right.' She opened her eyes and gave Aunt Edie a kind look. ‘It's come to me, through our Lord, that seein' you're so concerned about my fam'ly, Edie Harper, you could stop being a selfish single woman and come and look after them yourself while I'm away.'

‘What?' said Aunt Edie.

‘Yes, it come to me in my prayer,' said Mother calmly. ‘You can look after them while I'm doin' God's work.'

Aunt Edie, her eyes fiery, said, ‘Don't tempt me.'

‘Now I've got to be on my way,' said Mother.

‘And you don't know when you'll be back?'

‘The Lord will instruct me.'

‘Poor old Lord,' said Aunt Edie. ‘I don't know how He puts up with all you people knockin' Him up day and night, but you're tempting me all right.'

‘I'll be ‘umbly pleasured if I've shown you 'ow to do your Christian duty,' said Mother graciously.

‘If you're not careful, you'll lose your girls,' said Aunt Edie. ‘I don't mean they'll leave 'ome, they won't do that, they'll stay with their dad. What I do mean is you'll lose their affection, and when that's gone, Maud, everything that's worthwhile to a mother has gone, I should think.'

‘I don't know what you know about being a mother,' said Mother.

‘If you think it's all about puttin' religion before your fam'ly,' said Aunt Edie, ‘you'll deserve all you get.'

‘Kindly keep a civil tongue in your 'ead,' said Mother.

‘My 'ead's all right,' said Aunt Edie, ‘it's yours that ought to be examined.'

‘Oh, what impudence,' said Mother, but Aunt Edie, in a rare paddy, delivered several more home truths. Mother, however, still remained adamant, and eventually departed with her umbrella, her handbag and many of her belongings. First she said goodbye to her family, telling them not to forget to go to church and to give all the food in the larder to the poor. Dad, livid, went over the top then and said bugger the poor. Betsy, unhappy and bewildered, hid her face in his waistcoat. Patsy, angry as well as upset, asked what about the neighbours, what were they supposed to tell the neighbours?

‘Tell them I'm doing my Christian duty,' said Mother.

‘You'd better get on with it, then,' said Jimmy. And Mother left, much to Aunt Edie's disgust.

Silence descended on the family. Used as they were to Mother's eccentric ways, to have her go off like this was a shock. Aunt Edie was in such a rage about it that she was hard put to contain herself. It was little Betsy who broke the silence, after gulping down a sob.

‘Dad, don't Mum really like us any more?'

Dad, knowing he had some cheering up to do, said, ‘Course she does, Betsy love.' He gave her a cuddle. ‘She's only goin' away for a bit. She'll be back.' She'd bloody better, he said to himself. ‘She's just got a few problems, that's all.'

‘So 'ave we now,' said Patsy.

‘Don't you worry, Patsy, we'll sort ourselves out,' said Jimmy.

‘You bet,' said Dad.

‘And there's me,' said Aunt Edie, who had already made up her mind about what she was going to do. ‘I'd like to talk to you again, Jack.'

‘All right, Edie,' said Dad. ‘Won't be a tick, kids, then we'll see about gettin' a meal a bit later, eh?'

‘I can make some corned beef sandwiches,' said Patsy, ‘and we could 'ave a proper meal tonight.'

‘Good girl,' said Dad, and took Aunt Edie to the parlour.

There she told him what she proposed to do. She would come and stay every weekend, she said. She'd been with her firm a long time and the manager would let her have some Saturday mornings off. Then she'd be able to come on Friday evenings and leave for her work on Monday mornings. Of course, whenever Maud was home, she would keep out of the way. She said it was only right that Betsy and Patsy should have a woman around some days each week.

‘Edie, you can't give up your weekends just for us,' said Dad.

‘I don't call it givin' them up,' said Aunt Edie, ‘I'm a relative, so I call it bein' a useful member of the fam'ly.'

‘But it's not as if they're still young kids, they're all old enough to muck in and—'

‘Jimmy's old enough, but Patsy and Betsy are of an age when they're entitled to be out enjoyin' themselves with their friends,' said Aunt Edie. ‘I'll do the cookin' and washin', and go over the house, and stop lookin' at me as if I'm incapable.'

‘All right, mind my eye,' said Dad with a grin. ‘I know you're not incapable.'

‘Also,' said Aunt Edie, ‘it's not right you gettin' landed with this kind of problem. You've been a good 'usband and father, don't think I 'aven't noticed what's been goin' on between you and Maud since you come 'ome from the war.'

‘Still, there's been a few laughs on the way,' said Dad.

‘Don't make me spit,' said Aunt Edie. ‘Your wife's already been a trial to me. But I'm 'er cousin, and it's up to me to make up for what she's doin' to 'er fam'ly. I wouldn't be much of an aunt to Betsy and Patsy if I couldn't 'elp out a bit at weekends. I'm not goin' to let you say no to me.'

‘Stop hittin' me over me head,' said Dad.

‘Someone should,' said Aunt Edie. ‘Imagine you lettin' Maud do what she's doin', instead of givin' her a good 'iding.'

‘I can't do that, Edie, I've never hit a woman in me life, I don't 'old with it.'

‘You could 'ave done something to stop 'er goin'.'

‘I wasn't goin' to tie her up,' said Dad.

‘Pity,' said Aunt Edie. ‘Still, she's 'opped it now and it's up to me to 'elp out. Besides, it'll be good for me. I've only ever 'ad to look after meself, and it's got to be good for me to think of others for a change.'

‘Well, I feel it's askin' a lot of you,' said Dad.

‘Who's askin'? You're not. I'm offerin'.'

‘Yes, I know, but—'

‘No buts, Jack. I'm goin' down the market now, then I'll go 'ome and pack a few weekend things, then I'll be back 'ere till Tuesday mornin' as it's Bank Holiday. I'll get supper this evenin', and in between I'll see if the 'ouse needs goin' over. Your bedroom does for a start . . . oh, I could ‘it that wife of yours.'

‘Take it easy, old girl,' said Dad. ‘And look, don't be surprised if the neighbours start talkin'.'

‘Blow the neighbours,' said Aunt Edie. ‘Neighbours always talk.'

‘I'm thinkin' of you, Edie, not me.'

‘Thanks,' said Aunt Edie, who had very personal reasons for doing what she proposed to do. ‘Where's Jimmy? He can come with me and tell me what shoppin' to get for you. Is there a joint of meat in the house for tomorrow's dinner?'

‘No, I was goin' out meself with Patsy this afternoon to get a few things for the larder,' said Dad.

‘Tell me what you want, and me and Jimmy'll get them.'

‘Edie, you're doin' a sergeant-major job on me,' said Dad.

‘Is it 'urting?' asked Aunt Edie.

‘Not much, I'm used to sergeant-majors,' said Dad, and Aunt Edie gave him a searching look. His wife was being a real headache to him, and a real worry to their children. But he was standing up to it like a man, and she knew him well enough to know he'd fight tooth and nail to do all he could for his upset kids, even if he was reluctant to put his wife over his knees and give her something different to think about. Patsy and Jimmy were both showing a bit of their dad's toughness. It was little Betsy who couldn't hide her unhappiness, although even she had had moments when she was able to giggle.

Aunt Edie couldn't help thinking what a silly bitch Maud Andrews was not to realize exactly what a fine husband and lovely kids she had. Right, thought Aunt Edie, you'd better watch out, Maud.

Aunt Edie had principles, but one or two of them could be stretched a bit.

Aunt Edie, sallying forth, entered the East Street market, Jimmy beside her. She had a soft spot for Jimmy. Like his dad, he was good-natured, and was tickled that she'd asked him to go shopping with her. She was an arresting figure in the bright summer dress that shaped her form on this warm August day, and her large flower-bedecked hat was a picture in itself. It caught the eyes of stallholders. It made one call out to her.

‘None of your sauce,' said Aunt Edie and sailed on.

There was something different about her, thought Jimmy. She was always cheerful and outgoing. Today she looked as if she was meeting an exciting challenge. She was going to come every weekend to cook, to do the washing and to go through the house. And she was going to give special attention to Betsy and Patsy. Jimmy didn't think there was anything very exciting about that. It was just housework, and hardly any kind of challenge. But there she was, looking as if she was on top of the world. And she knew how to shop in a market, how to spot a stallholder trying to slip a bruised apple in with good ones.

‘Oh, no you don't, me lad.'