Winnie of the Waterfront (21 page)

‘We can give it a try,’ Sandy conceded, ‘but I don’t think it will work.’

He was right. The minute he started to wheel Winnie along the platform a porter stopped him.

‘There’s no more trains tonight, whacker!’

‘We know that. We’re waiting for someone coming on the early morning train,’ Sandy explained.

‘Oh yes, which one?’

‘Not quite sure what time it gets in.’

The man’s lip curled. ‘I see! Where’s this friend of yours coming from, then? Do you know that?’

Winnie smiled up at the grim-looking man. ‘Look, I’ve nowhere to stay tonight and I thought perhaps I could kip in the ladies’ waiting room,’ she said persuasively.

‘It’s locked, miss, and I don’t have the key. I think the pair of you had better be on your way, otherwise I’ll have to call the police.’

‘We’re going!’ Sandy swung Winnie’s chair around so fast that everything piled up on it juddered and threatened to fall off. ‘Thanks for nothing, whacker!’

‘So where do we go now?’ Winnie asked wearily as they emerged into Lime Street again.

‘Straight down here, there’s a café on the corner of Lord Nelson Street that stays open for people leaving the Empire after the last show. Come on, and with a bit of luck we’ll get there before they close.’

Over a cup of hot chocolate they tried to decide what to do next.

‘I think it’s the wheelchair that puts them off,’ Sandy said gloomily. ‘We probably look homeless because it’s piled up with so much stuff.’

‘You’re right, but there’s not a lot we can do about that is there.’

‘That’s it!’ Sandy drained his cup. ‘Come on, luv, drink up, I’ve got an idea.’

He helped her back into the chair and set off at breakneck speed towards Cazneau Street, cutting through into Great Homer Street.

‘There’s no point in going back to the market, it will be all shut up at this time of night,’ Winnie told him.

‘I’m not going to the market, I’m going to Peg Mullins’ place. She lives in Skirving Court, which is at the top end of Skirving Street. If we can persuade her to stow your belongings at her place for a couple of days then you’ll stand a better chance of finding somewhere where they’ll rent you a room. Get it?’

‘It makes sense, but won’t Peg have a fit if we turn up on her doorstep at this time of night?’

‘Not when I explain what’s happened. Don’t worry, kiddo, you know Peg’s got a heart of gold. She’ll help.’

Sandy was right. Peg was prepared to do more than simply let them leave Winnie’s belongings at her place. She insisted that Winnie should stay there as well.

‘I can’t let you put yourself out like that,’ Winnie protested. ‘It’s Christmas, it’ll upset all your own plans.’

‘Is that right?’ Peg’s grey eyes twinkled. ‘You know all about what I have planned, do you? It looks as though I’m having a party, does it?’

‘Well, not tonight, but you might have one
planned
for tomorrow perhaps, and Monday is Christmas Day …’

‘Tomorrow, Christmas Day, Boxing Day! It makes no difference what day it is, I’ll still be here on my own. I expect Sandy has told you that I lost my husband and son in the war.’ She wiped a tear away from the corner of one eye. ‘Now you understand why I’ve nothing to celebrate.’

‘Yes, and Winnie lost her dad in the war too,’ Sandy told her.

Peg shook her head sorrowfully. ‘Then you know what I mean. Is that how you came to be in an orphanage? It’s all right, Sandy told me about that the day he asked me if I could find work for you in the market kitchen.’

‘Yes, my mam died shortly after she received the news and there was no one else to look after me.’

‘The same thing happening again, eh? No one to take you in tonight. Well, we’d better keep each other company then, luv, hadn’t we. You can have my Sam’s room. The bed’s made up and there’s plenty of room in there for all your belongings.’

She turned to Sandy. ‘I’ll make us all a pot of tea while you unload Winnie’s stuff,’ she told him. ‘Once you’ve drunk that you can be on your way, Sandy. You can come back in the morning to make sure Winnie’s all right if you want to, but she looks all in, so I think the sooner she gets her head down the better.’

Sandy was whistling happily as he left Skirving Court half an hour later. Winnie was safe for the
night.
By now she’d be tucked up in bed in Peg’s spare room and probably already be asleep.

He’d go back there tomorrow and hopefully they’d be able to sort out where she’d be staying for the future. If his instincts were right, and they generally were, Peg Mullins would try and persuade Winnie to stay on there for a while.

In his opinion it was the perfect solution. Peg was kind-hearted but lonely, and they’d be good company for each other. She and Winnie were used to each other’s ways. They already got on like a house on fire so it was perfectly natural that they should settle in together quite happily.

Deep down he felt a twinge of jealousy that Winnie would doubtless be happy there. Then he mentally kicked himself for his stupidity. That was exactly what he wanted for her, wasn’t it. He wanted her to be happy and settled.

What was more, he told himself, because he also got on so well with Peg he’d be able to visit Winnie whenever he felt like it.

Before she went to bed that night, Peg Mullins went into the bedroom that had once belonged to her son Sam. She stood beside the bed, holding the candle she was carrying high so that the flickering light didn’t shine directly onto Winnie.

A smile played over her lips as she studied Winnie’s face in repose, the heart-shaped features framed by the black curls, the pink lips slightly open, the long lashes hiding the vivid turquoise-blue eyes. Even in sleep there was an appeal about the girl’s face that touched Peg’s heart. She’d
always
longed to have a daughter. Someone who would understand a woman’s way of thinking and be a companion to her in her old age.

She’d only ever had the one child. Sam had been a wonderful son, a good lad from the day he was born and she would always be proud of him. It was such a wicked waste that his short life should be snuffed out so violently. He’d never been aggressive in any way, and he’d never wanted to take part in a war.

If he had lived, she reflected, then Winnie Malloy was the sort of girl she would have liked him to have chosen as his wife.

She would have preferred her to have been fit, of course. Not that being crippled made Winnie any less lovable. She was always cheerful and uncomplaining and she worked hard.

As she turned to leave, Peg heard the girl stir and heard her murmur in her sleep. As she paused to listen she heard Winnie say Sandy’s name and saw the half-smile that lifted the corners of her mouth.

Peg smiled as she moved quietly away. Yes, she told herself, those two were meant for each other. Sandy was a lovely lad and she was very fond of him. He never talked about his family so she knew very little about his background or where he lived. She vaguely remembered Winnie once saying that they’d been at school together when they were small, so he must live somewhere around the Scotty Road area.

They’d make such a good pair, she thought again as she prepared for bed. It would be nice to
see
them team up. He was bound to be back again tomorrow to make sure that Winnie was all right, so perhaps she’d invite him to stay and spend Christmas Day with the two of them, Peg resolved as she drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Twenty-two

AFTER ENJOYING THE
best Christmas she had ever known, Winnie felt in an optimistic mood and was sure that 1923 was going to be equally special.

In that, she seemed to be right. Moving in with Peg Mullins changed her whole life. She was not only comfortably housed, but she felt safe. For the first time since the day her father had been called up to serve in the army she felt settled and contented.

January was exceptionally cold and frosty. Wrapped up warmly in the red cloak that Sandy had bought her for Christmas, with the hood keeping even her ears warm, Winnie happily braved the elements. She still enjoyed her busy days working with Peg. She also loved going home with Peg each night to her cosy little terraced house in Skirving Court.

Most evenings after the market closed Sandy went back there with them, and after a good hot meal the three of them sat round the fire talking. Sandy’s favourite topic was outlining his plans for the future.

Peg listened to their chatter, and added her own fivepennyworth from time to time. She didn’t exactly pour cold water on Sandy’s ambitions but she certainly kept his feet on the ground with her sensible comments.

Sandy seemed to take what she said very seriously. He knew her opinions were based on her years of experience in the market, but he usually managed to put up a strong argument that made his own ideas acceptable.

Peg loved these verbal exchanges. Her grey eyes would sparkle and her cheeks would become quite flushed.

The three of them seemed to be in such harmony and enjoyed being together so much that time flew by. Winter over, Easter came and went, then it was Winnie’s fifteenth birthday and before they knew what was happening it was Christmas once again.

Sandy was still saving as hard as he possibly could. He had set himself a target and was determined that once he reached that amount then he’d ask Reg Willard if he would allocate a stall to him. Once that was achieved then he’d really feel that he had a foot on the ladder.

Although he shared these dreams and ambitions with Peg and Winnie when they chatted together in the evenings, Sandy still kept his greatest daydream of all to himself. Several times when he had been alone with Winnie he had been tempted to tell her how deep his feelings for her were. Each time, though, the thought that at the moment he had nothing worthwhile to offer her stopped him in his tracks.

She’s had a hard-enough life as it is, he told himself, so why should she want to spend the rest of her life with him, when he was little more than a market porter? He saw her every day and he
knew
she wasn’t seeing anyone else, so he kept telling himself that there was no hurry for him to speak out.

Yet was he right? Every night as he tossed and turned in his hard lumpy bed, listening to the snores of the other occupants of the room, he kept asking himself that question over and over again.

Was it sensible for him to postpone proposing to her until he’d achieved the first step of his great plan? Or should he speak out now?

A stall of his own was only the start, of course. It would show her, though, that all his dreams and visions and talk were not simply hot air. In time he would build up a proper business. He wanted one that would enable him to rent a couple of nice rooms or even a small terraced house. Once he’d achieved that then they could be married and share the rest of their lives together.

His ambition was that they should get engaged on her next birthday. She’d be sixteen then and he’d be nearly eighteen, old enough for both of them to know what they wanted from life. However, he still had to tell Winnie how much he loved her, and ensure that she felt the same way about him.

By Easter 1924 Sandy felt confident that he had enough money saved to take the first steps towards putting his plans into action. Because he respected Peg’s opinion he confided in her about what he intended to do.

‘Take it slowly, son,’ she warned. ‘Reg Willard won’t be too keen about allocating a stall to you.’

Sandy looked puzzled. ‘Why ever not? He knows I’m a good hard worker. He knows I’m reliable and that if I make a commitment then I’ll see it through.’

‘Yes, and he also knows that you are the best sidekick he’s ever had! He won’t want to lose you, now, will he!’

Sandy looked taken aback. He thought about it for a couple of minutes and then saw the sense in what she was telling him, but he felt acutely disappointed.

‘So what do you suggest I should do?’

Peg shrugged. ‘You could take a chance and ask him. I could be wrong, I suppose.’

‘No, I think you’re probably right.’ He nodded thoughtfully. ‘I’d planned on asking him and then once he’d agreed I was going to tell Winnie and enjoy seeing the surprise on her face.’

‘Then give it a go, whacker! I won’t breathe a word to Winnie so if it doesn’t come off she won’t be any the wiser.’

Sandy waited until Reg was in a good mood and then asked him if there were any stalls coming up for rental in the near future.

‘I can always find a stall if I’m given a good reason for doing so, you should know that,’ Reg laughed cynically.

‘Good! I can take it, then, that I can have one if I see you right!’ Sandy exclaimed happily.

‘You?’

‘That’s right,’ Sandy grinned. ‘How soon can I have it?’

Reg Willard scowled. ‘You don’t get one, don’t be so bloody daft!’

‘Why not?’

‘Because I said so, that’s why. I’m in charge here, remember, so don’t bother arguing. What I say goes, you should know that by now. Understand?’

Sandy didn’t understand, but remembering all the sound advice he’d had from Peg he didn’t argue about it. There must be a way round it, he reasoned, and it was up to him to find it.

When he told Peg and asked her what he ought to do she promised to give it some thought.

‘Let me sleep on it, lad, I’m sure something will come to mind,’ she told him.

‘Well, don’t take too long,’ he said anxiously. ‘I was hoping to be able to take Winnie for a night out on her birthday. I intended to tell her all about getting the stall at the same time as asking her if she would marry me. That would make it a grand celebration.’

Peg slapped him on the back, her face beaming. ‘That’s your answer!’ she exclaimed jubilantly.

Sandy looked at her blankly.

‘Let Winnie be the one to ask for a stall! Reg Willard will have no reason to refuse her.’

‘Except that she’s a girl and that she’s in a wheelchair,’ Sandy responded gloomily.

‘There’s four other women stallholders,’ Peg pointed out, ‘and the fact that she’s in a wheelchair doesn’t seem to make any difference to the way Winnie works, and I can vouch for that.’