Women on the Home Front (112 page)

‘Yeah … you told me that more'n twenty year ago,' Matilda returned dryly. ‘And since then you've had two new cars, and a new wife, so don't you go pleadin' poverty.'

Noreen was about to forget her groceries and slip out of the shop while Matilda was engaged in a verbal duel with the shopkeeper.

Matilda caught at one of her thin arms and gave Smithie a significant stare.

‘Just this lot then, Mrs Murphy … but bring in something before the weekend.' Peter Smith sighed.

Noreen quickly put Rosie on her unsteady little feet. She started loading bread and tea and milk into her shopping bag and mumbled her gratitude before quickly whipping her youngest up, settling her on her hip and heading for the door in case he changed his mind.

When they were outside, being buffeted by a bitter breeze, Noreen again tucked the wool shawl about Rosie's shoulders to protect her from the cold.

‘Why don't you come over mine fer a cup of tea before you head home,' Matilda said kindly.

Noreen gave a brief nod and a grateful smile. She knew Matilda's room was little better than her own but at least it was a different dump. Besides, it was somebody to talk to and, ashamed as she was to acknowledge it, she knew her neighbour would ply the children with biscuits to fill them up for a while and save her the necessity of doing it. She could present her husband with a fresh uncut loaf when he came in for his tea later.

‘She's looking bonny now. Wouldn't think you'd had that scare with her in the dreadful smog.' Matilda nodded at Noreen's youngest. Little Rosie's cheeks were pink with cold but at the moment she was toddling, giggling, from one to the other of Matilda's battered old chairs to clutch at the seats. ‘How old is she now?' Matilda asked, shaking the kettle to judge what was in it.

‘Sixteen months,' Noreen said, gathering her daughters to her side to prevent them chasing about in Matilda's home.

‘Let 'em play,' Matilda said gruffly. ‘Not doing any harm and I like to see kids enjoying themselves.' She put the kettle to boil on the hob and set two cups. ‘Now I reckon I might find something nice for two good little gels. Know any gels who's been good?' she bent down to ask Kathleen.

‘Me 'n' Rosie's been good …' Kathleen piped up, glancing shyly at Matilda's biscuit box on the shelf.‘Your Kieran not managed to turn up some more work?' Matilda asked bluntly as they sat sipping from their cups and Rosie and Kathleen sat side by side on Matilda's bed, eagerly chewing digestives.

‘He's out now looking,' Noreen said on a sigh.

‘Not working along the road today?'

Noreen shook her head. ‘He's got nothing. Christopher put him off last week …' She glanced quickly at Matilda. ‘Oh, I'm not complaining, neither is Kieran. Not at all. It was good of your nephew to give Kieran work to get us over Christmas. And he kept Kieran on longer than he said he would; he was good to us because he knew that divil O'Connor had kept hold of Kieran's pay.' She paused. ‘He was a cheat and a liar and those other Irish fellows who were working in the road were always looking for trouble with Christopher and his men. Kieran fretted at first that we'd be thought of as trouble as well after he got a job with O'Connor. But you've all been kind. We're grateful to you for helping.'

‘Don't mind doin' good turns fer them wot deserve it,' Matilda announced. ‘And that O'Connor'll get what's coming to him sooner or later. But I didn't know Chris had put yer husband off 'cos I ain't seen much of him fer a few weeks.'

Yesterday she'd spied her nephew at a distance and had given him a wave. As they'd barely had an opportunity to speak since Christmas, Matilda had expected him to jog over and have a quick natter. But he'd simply raised a hand then gone back to work.

Matilda had a nose for trouble brewing and she was wondering if perhaps she ought to amble down the road later and have a word …

From the start she'd had an inkling that Chris might have taken Kieran Murphy on off his own back. At Christmas she'd mentioned to Rob that Kieran seemed to get along alright with the other lads in the firm. She'd noticed Chris shoot her a quelling look, and Rob frown in puzzlement, so she'd said no more on the subject because Christmas was a time for putting work aside and concentrating on family. But Matilda was cute enough to put two and two together and come up with a bit of a problem.

Despite the short, freezing-cold days putting folk off loitering to chat Matilda knew it was unlike Chris not to pop by. He usually poked his head in to say hello at least once a week. Previously she'd not given it much thought because she knew he now had Grace to think about, and lots of exciting plans to make with his future wife.

Of course, there was also Pamela still in the background. Matilda wondered if Christopher had yet found the right opportunity to tell Stevie that he'd managed to contact his mum and, following a tricky start, there had been an improvement in their relationship.

Matilda hadn't questioned Chris because she accepted it was his business whether he kept her informed about how things were progressing with his mother. Besides, Matilda reasoned the less she knew, the less she'd have to own up to if Stevie should try to cross-examine her on the subject.

After Noreen had gone home with her children, filled to the gills with tea and biscuits, Matilda got her coat and headed off down the road in the gathering twilight. She could see Chris's van parked so knew he was still about somewhere.

‘Ain't been up to see me in a while. You alright?' she called up to Chris as he stuck his head out of a window to talk to her.

‘Yeah … I'm alright. Sorry I've not been in; been a bit busy. I'll pop along when I knock off.'

‘Saw Noreen Murphy earlier. She says you've put Kieran off.'

As soon as Matilda saw Chris heading up the stairs towards her she let him know what was on her mind.

She'd been filling the kettle at the sink on the landing. When done, she followed her nephew into her room and closed the door against the gloomy cold. Having kicked back into place the sausage of rags that served as a draught excluder, she set the kettle on the hob.

‘Had to …' Chris sighed a reply as he sat down. ‘Didn't want to, but …' His voice tailed away.

‘Rob know, does he?'

Chris gave a noncommittal shrug.

‘Your uncle never knew you took him on, did he? You've been paying Kieran outta yer own wages 'cos that bastard O'Connor wouldn't settle up with him, and the Murphys didn't have a pot ter piss in over Christmas.' She gave Chris an admiring smile. ‘That's a fine and generous thing to do fer someone you hardly know.'

‘Wish I could've done more, but I can't … not now …'

‘Can't be expected to. Things have changed for you in a big way.'

Chris planted his elbows on the battered table and cupped his face in his hands. ‘Feel bad about taking back all me pay but … never gonna get enough saved to get married otherwise.'

‘Grace been on to you to get shot of Kieran?' There was no accusation in Matilda's tone. It was sensible and acceptable in her estimation for a young woman to scrape together every penny she could get hold of to set up her own home with her future husband.

‘No.' He grunted a laugh. ‘If she knew she'd be upset I'd done it.'

‘Not told her then?'

Chris shook his head.

‘Seen yer mum lately?' Matilda fired off another question that had been niggling at her.

‘Saw her Christmas Day. Took her a present. Ain't seen her since,' Chris stated, staccato-voiced, avoiding Matilda's astute gaze.

‘Sounded like you wanted to add, and don't want to see her neither …' Matilda set his tea in front of him.

Chris took a sip and turned his head. He held out a palm to the warmth coming off the small stove.

‘What's up, Chris? You had a big barney with Stevie about seeing Pam over Christmas?'

‘He still don't know I've found her. I've not told him anything, and he's not asked. S'pect he's been too busy with the caff to bring it to mind.'

‘Well something's eating away at yer, I can see that.'

After a short silence Chris straightened in his chair and gazed at his aunt.

‘Remember you said, ages ago when I first started talking about finding her, that it was up to me mum to have an honest talk with me about the reason they split up?'

Matilda nodded. ‘Yeah, I do. It were the day I come over to Crouch End to speak to Stevie about it all.'

‘She did tell me: she said she nearly poisoned me 'cos she couldn't cope with me when I was a baby, but s'pose you already knew that.'

Matilda remained quiet, mulling over how hurt Chris must have been to hear it. But admiration for Pam for having the guts to admit to it dominated her mind. ‘Were brave of her to tell you something like that,' she stressed gently. ‘She could easily have lied. Tell you the truth, I thought she would.'

Chris gave a sour smile. ‘That's what Grace said, more or less. Seems women stick together on these things.'

‘Ain't sticking together, son, it's understanding that being a wife and a mother ain't all hearts and flowers. You should be glad your Grace already knows it.'

‘Yeah …' Chris stood up. ‘Gotta be off, now …'

‘Seeing Grace later?'

‘Dunno. Doubt it. We had a bit of a row last week.'

‘Got it coming from all sides then, ain't yer?' Matilda said.

As Chris trudged towards the door, fiddling with opening a pack of cigarettes, she said, ‘Look at yer: tall, strong as an ox, handsome with it. No lasting harm done, Chris; no need to get bitter over it now and let it sour all the good things you got to look forward to.' She waited till he turned towards her before adding, ‘Yer mother's paid her dues, you can't say she ain't, knowing the life she's had. Let it go.' She gave him a smile as he got a cigarette alight and immediately started to cough. ‘'Course you could cut down on them 'n' give yerself a few more years.' She took the packet and dropped it back in his overalls' pocket. ‘Choke up chicken …' she added, patting his back. ‘How long you been barking like that?'

‘Ain't nothing … just caught it off Dad; he's got a bad cold he can't shake off.'

‘Didn't need that on top of all the rest, did yer?' She gripped his arm comfortingly. ‘It'll all come right, you mark my words. Come Coronation Day you'll be dancing in the street with your lovely fiancée.'

‘Well, this is a nice surprise,' Matilda called out of the window, beaming in pleasure. ‘Come on up … door ain't locked.'

It was the first time Grace had been alone to Whadcoat Street. She hadn't told Chris she was planning on visiting his aunt, not because she didn't want him to know, but because she hadn't seen much of him. The cough he'd had had worsened enough to take him to the doctor's last week. But Grace knew it wasn't just a bout of bronchitis keeping them apart. He was using illness as an excuse to see her less often. Chris had been distant and cool ever since the incident with Hugh outside her office.

When Grace had seen Matilda during the Christmas holiday she'd promised her she'd write out Coronation Day invitations before Easter. But with the friction between her and Chris worsening she'd forgotten all about starting on the task. Yet it wasn't just duty that had brought her to Whadcoat Street on a chilly Saturday afternoon in March. On the way to Islington on the bus she'd mulled over whether to ask Matilda if Chris had confided in her that he wanted to break off their engagement. If anybody had Chris's trust, it was his great-aunt Matilda.

‘Weeks are marching on; it'll soon be Easter and we need to get them invitations sent out about now, I reckon. Then if some people choose to stick close to home for their Coronation Day dos we can get by with less grub and booze, or ask a few more folk over to make up the numbers.' Matilda had fired that at Grace before the young woman had fully explained the reason for her visit and was properly seated at her old table. ‘I reckon everybody'll come, y'know.' Matilda stuck the kettle on the hob and set two cups and saucers.

‘Hope so,' Grace replied with a bright smile. She took the pieces of folded paper that Matilda had pulled from the drawer in the table and was now holding out to her, and put them in her handbag.

‘Faye writ that list out for me so you'll be able to understand it. Got a beautiful hand, she has.' Matilda spooned tea into the pot while giving Grace a closer look. She guessed the girl had something on her mind and had an idea of what it might be. Stevie had told her that Chris was suffering with bronchitis and had hardly seen Grace. But Matilda had spotted her great-nephew, at a distance, working along the road. She knew that if Chris was fit enough to work, he was fit enough to see the woman he loved. If he wanted to, and still loved her. Matilda hoped that
was
the case because she'd grown fond of Grace and was sad to think something bad had blown up between the young couple. ‘Had a word with Rob about the trestle tables we're gonna need fer the kids' tea party,' she said, stirring the brew, and pondering on the wisdom of sticking her oar into this problem. ‘He's got a few decorators' trestles in the yard down Holloway Road but we'll need more than that. I expect Stevie'll let us have some tables out of his caff.'

‘That's a good idea,' Grace said, injecting enthusiasm into her voice. ‘I'll start on the invitations tomorrow,' she promised, taking the cup of tea Matilda had poured for her.

‘Penny for 'em …' Matilda sat down opposite Grace, having decided to have her say.

‘Oh … it's nothing …' Grace blurted. She was always startled by Matilda's blunt approach and hadn't yet worked out how to go about asking for the woman's advice.