Pure as the Lily (29 page)

2is

sands into his own backyard. The things he was going to do.

Lally, looking from the blazing fire to him, now said, “Oh, Jimmy, I don’t want to leave. Now the fire’s on I feel we’re home... for good.

It seems a long time till Monday when the things come. “ Jimmy, who was sitting close to her holding her hand, looked at the fire too, now, and said, “I was a fool; I should have got them to move us the day or tomorrow. I don’t know why I said Monday. Oh yes, I do.”

He nudged her.

“I thought we’d all come in together, and as we’re not picking up Ben from the hospital until Monday I thought, wherever we go, whatever we do, we’ll do it together, the three of us.”

“Aw, that was a nice thought, Jimmy, doing everything together, you, and me, and Ben. Do you think his ear will be all right?”

Tes, yes. “

“I wouldn’t like for him to be deaf, Jimmy.* “ He won’t be deaf. “ He shook her arm.

“He’s got a bit of an ear infection, that’s all. And we’re lucky, we’re favoured. Don’t forget, it isn’t every baim they take in and look after. First-class care, we’re favoured.”

“It’s ‘cos of you.”

“Tripe!” He stood up now, saying, “Well, it’s getting dark; we’d better be making a move if we want to call at Mary’s. “

“Oh aye. Oh aye. Are you going to bank down the fire, Jimmy, afore we go?”

“You bet. Oh, you bet.”

“It’s a shame, it’s such a lovely blaze.”

He looked at her as she stood now gazing down into the fire, and then he pulled her round towards him, saying, “I’ll tell you what I’ll do.

Billy Sollop won’t be doing anything tomorrow, he’d given me the choice, Saturday or Monday. Look, I’ll slip into him as we’re going home and ask him if he can do it tomorrow. Anyway, it would be more sensible to

have the place all straight for Master Benjamin Walton returning home, wouldn’t it? “

“Oh Jimmy, will you?”

He took her into his arms. You’d like to come in tomorrow, wouldn’t you? “I’d like to come in now.” She pulled a face at him.

He smiled at her, then said airily, “Well, Mrs. Walton, you may, if you wish, sleep on the stone floor, or, if you prefer the boards upstairs, but for me, my old bones need a mattress.”

“Oh Jimmy! you’re funny.” She pushed then pulled him towards the door, and they went out, he having to stoop to avoid the low lintel, They were halfway down the path when he swung her around and they surveyed the cottage. It was deceptive looking; it suggested it might have two rooms down and two or three up, whereas, in fact, it had, besides the large kitchen and equally large sitting-room, another twelve by ten foot room, a scullery, a large wash-house that gave access into a wooden outhouse which Jimmy had already planned as a workshop, and upstairs it had three bedrooms. It was a place that had great potential, and the artist that was in the poet saw this. Moat Cottage was going to be a show place. In his mind already he saw it completed.

Arm-in-arm, tight-linked, they made their way in the gathering dusk into the town, lit now with street lamps but still showing the scars of war. The nearest way to Mary’s would have been along Croft Terrace, down the road and cut through Haydon Terrace, but he kept clear of Haydon Terrace and took the long way round. He had come across Betty twice during the last year. The first time the day she had taken him to court for a maintenance order, and he had been committed to pay her fifteen shillings a week. The second time was when he had found himself sitting opposite her in the bus. He had only been seated a minute and there were her eyes boring into him as if they would stab him. He had got to his feet and jumped off the bus with the

. ———

His mother he had seen only once and he never wanted to see her again.

It was on the day everybody was going mad with victory. He had been pushing his way through a crowd blocking the roadway near Ellison Street. He had Lally by the hand pulling her after him, and there was the face to the side staring at him out of the crowd. The only face that wasn’t laughing, the only mouth that wasn’t open. He saw that she had her teeth gritted, her lips back from them in a snarl, like that of a dog, and it had crossed his mind that she looked like a mad woman.

But he could go in by Cornice Street from the top end now-he always did when coming back from the cottage and it gave him a sort of kick as he walked down the street with Lally on his arm. From the beginning he knew what they would be saying; “Brazen bugger! Did you see the pair of them? Talk about being bare-faced! All right, all right, granted Betty was a bit of a tartar, and his mother ... well, they all knew what she was .,. but for him to walk out on them and to take up with that one, Doo-Ially-tap, he must be as daft as her. And always arm in arm, a pair of brazen buggers, if ever there was. Oh he’s barmy all right. Well, remember what he got up to ... the Salvation Army do?

And then the dustbin? And to wipe a blackboard with a lad’s face! If you ask me they’re well matched. “ As if they were shouting in his ear he could hear them. But it didn’t matter to him; they couldn’t penetrate his private world, this island on which he was living, this beautiful island called Lally.

In Mary’s, he announced loudly, “We’re going in tomorrow, Mary. I was daft, we have all the weekend to get straight.”

“Now you’re talking sense.” She nodded from him to Lally.

“I wondered to me self why you were leaving it till Monday.”

“Aw, just a fad, a kink. I’m gone up here.” He tapped his brow.

You needn’t stress that fact. “ She laughed at him.

“Go on, have something to eat. Give me your coat, Lally.”

“Mary.”

Yes, Lally? “

“I was just sayin’ to Jimmy, the next things I buy with me coupons I’m goin’ to get something quiet like, and I’d like you to come with me and....”

“Come on, you big fathead.” Jimmy tugged her so hard by the arm that she fell against him, and Mary just smiled, but she was laughing inside. Lally in quiet clothes! If you put her in a nun’s garb she’d still look like Lally. How could she ever hope to hide that bust and that backside? But it said something for her that she wanted to dress quietly. She thought now, as she had thought before, that it was a pity she was stamped with the telling title of Doo-lally-tap. In one way she could understand how she had come by the name, but in another she thought it was quite unfair, because Lally, at bottom, was no more doo-lally-tap than she herself was.

When they went into the dining-room she said to her da, “They’re going to move tomorrow, you could give them a hand.”

“Oh aye.” Alee nodded at Jimmy.

“Oh aye, lad, I’ll give you a hand to get straight, and pleased to. An’ I tell you what, I’ll come and dig your garden. Oh’—he looked at Mary ‘that’s if it’s all right with you, lass?” Yes, it’s all right with me. Da. “ Mary said softly.

“Oh, I’d like to get me spade into the earth again. Oh, I’d like that.” He jerked his head at Jimmy, and Jimmy said, “Well, I’ll give you plenty of what you like. Da. You can rely on me, I’ll give you plenty of what you like.” And they were all laughing as they sat down at the table.

alice sat to the side of the window looking through the thick Nottingham lace curtains into the street.

Across the road Peggy Hurst was washing her window sill. Not before time, she thought and even now she was only giving it a lick and a promise. Dirty cat, that Peggy Hurst. And there was that Mrs. Keely with her two hairns; likely off to Shields Market to spend her money on trash. She never could keep the baims nice, and her man had been in good work for years. These women! men slaving for them, working from Monday morning till Saturday night for them, and half the women no better than they should be, while here she was having to fend for herself, neither man, chick nor child to speak a word to her or give her a penny. Badness and sin paid off. They talked about God being good, had He ever been good to her?

What was before her? Work, and more work, five days a week until she died. She was only forty-six, she was no age. But she felt old; and no wonder, she’d had enough in her life to make anybody old. Oh God, if only she could get her own back on them . just once . just once.

That’s all she asked.

She rose from the chair and began to pace the room. They were all together now, her husband, her daughter, and her son, not forgetting his fancy piece, all together like a pack of thieves. They said Jimmy and that daft piece were never away from her shop. Why hadn’t a bomb fallen on her and the shop?

Decent, hard-working. God-fearing people had to be taken while others, like her, were left. She was her own flesh and blood, but God! how she hated her. All the ills in her life, all that had happened to her stemmed from their Mary.

She stopped in her pacing. And where was Betty? She was hardly in these days either. She had some fellow in the offing; she could smell a rat before it was stinking.

The door opened at this and Betty came in and dropped the basket of groceries on the table.

“Where’ve you been? You’ve taken your time, haven’t you?”

“Oh for God’s sake! Mam, you haven’t got a stop watch on me, have you?”

“Well! well! There’s no need for that.”

Oh my God! “

Alice turned from Betty and, putting her hand to her head, held it as she said now, “Don’t you start.

Now don’t you start, Betty, because that’ll be the last straw.”

“Well, you will keep on. You’re getting on my nerves, you keep on and on.” Alice subsided slowly into a chair. Her face was grim, her lips tight and trembling.

Betty now tossed her head from side to side, tore off her coat and hat, went into the bedroom, then coming out again, said, You’re not the only one who’s going through the mill. What do you think I’ve just heard? “

Alice’s head came round sharply, her lips slightly open now, the eyes wide in inquiry.

“What?” she asked.

“Your Mary’s given them the cottage.”

“She’s what!”

“Just what I said, she’s given them the cottage. Moat Cottage, you know the one, you’ve talked about it enough.”

Alice was out of her chair, standing straight, rigid.

“Moat Cottage?

Our Mary’s given them Moat Cottage? “

“That’s what I said. I met Phyllis Bradley and she told me. Apparently your Mary’s owned the cottage for a long time, or her man did. But Master Jimmy’s been doing it up and ... your daughter’—now Betty’s small head was bouncing on her shoulders ‘your daughter’s given it to them, lock, stock and barrel, deeds. What do you think about that?

Phyllis Bradley’s girl plays with the McArthur’s child, she got it through her. “

“Moat Cottage!” Alice’s eyes were wide, her jaw was sagging She was looking at Betty, yet through her and beyond her, and she said again, “Moat Cottage!”

Moat Cottage had been her Shangri-la. She had come from the Church Bank, through Hope Street, into Cornice Street;

they were just stops on the way towards Moat Cottage. She could hear herself saying to Alee, “It’s to be let at twelve and six a week,” and him replying, “Double what we pay here. You barmy, woman?” And now their Mary had given it to their Jimmy, and he was taking that woman there, that big fat, slobbery bitch of a woman. No! No! not to Moat Cottage

“Our Mary... * ^hat?”

“Our Mary, she’s done this on purpose. She knew, she knew I always wanted that place. Why, I nearly went to live there. She’s done it on purpose, you see.” She was standing over Betty, gripping her arms, and Betty, shrugging heroS cried, “Stop it, Mam, you’re hurtin’ me.” Then she said, “You were going to live there?”

Ves, years ago I was, but he was frightened of the rent. Alee, he was frightened of the rent. But she knew, our Mary, she knew what I thought about that place. I used to take them when they were baims, her and Jimmy, and show it to them. It had a long garden back and front. Right out in the country it was then, with open fields all about, and the sky. “ She lifted her hand and waved it back and forward, and Betty said sharply, “ Mam! Mam! “ and as if Alice had been recalled from a distant time, a distant place, she stared at Betty and asked, “ Are they in yet? “

No, they’re moving in on Monday, so I understand. The McArthur’s girl said they are going in on Monday and are going to have a sort of party. By the way’—Betty turned her back on Alice and her voice shook as she said, ‘there’s a further bit of news, the baim came over two weeks ago; you’re a grannie again, once removed . it’s a boy. “

“My God!”

They both sat down now, and there was quiet in the room for some minutes before it was broken by Alice saying, “Moat Cottage! Moat Cottage!”

“Is that all you can say. Moat Cottage?” Betty was screaming now, and she jumped to her feet and ran into the kitchen, but Alice still sat, and she still repeated, “Moat Cottage! Moat Cottage!”
Chapter Eleven

‘mam! Mam! “

“What? What is it?” Mary came out of layers of sleep.

“What do you want, child?”

“Listen, Ma; there’s somebody knocking at the shop door downstairs.

Listen. “

Mary raised herself up and listened. Then getting out of bed and pulling on her dressing-gown, she ran into the sitting-room, switched on the light, then went to the window and, opening it, looked down into the dark street.

“Who is it?”

A light flashed up into her face.

“Mrs. Tollett?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“Can you come down a minute, it’s the police.”

Police. Even the word could make her stomach turn over.

“Just a minute.” She shut the window and looked at Annie for a moment in amazement, saying, “Polis.” Her eyes lifted to the clock on the mantelpiece. Quarter past three in the morning. In the hall she pulled a coat over her dressing—gown and said to Annie, ‘you stay put, and don’t wake your gran da or Cousin Annie. “

But Alee was already at his bedroom door, asking, What is it? What’s up? Is she bad? “ He was looking at Annie.

Mary said, “No, no. There’s somebody knocking at the shop door. Now stay where you are until I find out what it’s about.” Her ma, she thought; something had happened to her ma. She didn’t add, at last.