Stay as Sweet as You Are (12 page)

BOOK: Stay as Sweet as You Are
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They heard the laughter and chattering before the knock came. ‘What did I tell yer?’ George said, as Irene went to open the door. ‘I bet they’ve had the time of their lives.’

The three children ran in, all trying to get through the door at the same time. Their faces were alive with excitement and eagerness to tell what a marvellous time they’d had. Lucy made straight for her father and sat on his knee. ‘I’ve never enjoyed meself so much, Dad. It’s been wonderful.’

He hugged her close. ‘I’m glad, pet. In fact, I’m jealous because Titch didn’t take me along with yer. I could have put a pair of short kecks on and pretended I was only twelve.’

‘Yer’d never have got away with it, Dad. Anyone can see ye’re at least fourteen. But yer didn’t half miss a treat.’

Titch stood inside the door and viewed the scene with warmth in his heart. Lucy’s pretty face was animated as her words poured out. And Irene was standing with an arm around each of the boys’ shoulders, listening as they vied with each other to be first to tell all they’d seen and done. There was so much talking going on, George couldn’t keep track of it all, so he clapped his hands and called a halt.

‘Can we have a bit of hush, please? Now, seeing as yer’ve had such a good time, don’t yer think the least yer can do is show a few manners to the man who made it possible, by asking him to sit down?’

The children were immediately contrite, and three pairs of
willing hands led Titch to the couch. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Titch,’ Lucy said, ‘but yer gave us such a good time I couldn’t wait to tell me dad about it.’

‘Yeah,’ said Jack. ‘If me head hadn’t been up in the air I wouldn’t have forgot me manners and yer’d have had a cup of tea in yer hand by now. So yer see, Mr Titch, what it boils down to is, ye’re a victim of yer own generosity.’

Greg looked at his brother with narrowed eyes. ‘Ye’re showing off, you are, with yer fancy words. There’ll be no living with yer when yer start work. We’ll have to get a dictionary out every time yer open yer gob.’ He gave Titch a broad smile. ‘I’m not as clever as him, so I’ll just say it was the gear, and thank you very much.’ He started to walk away, then changed his mind. ‘I’ll pay yer back when I’m older. I’ll take yer to the pub on the corner for a pint.’

‘I’ll hold her to that, son.’ Titch laughed heartily. ‘I’ll be walking with a stick by then, like, but, please God, I’ll still be able to lift a pint glass.’

‘Aye, look at the time,’ Irene said. ‘It’s nine o’clock and time yer were in bed.’

There were groans from the two boys. ‘Ah, ay, Mam, we’ve got loads to tell yer.’

‘Do as yer mam says,’ George told them. ‘Don’t argue with her.’

Irene saw the three young faces drop. ‘Yer can tell us everything, from beginning to end, tomorrow night. But right now, I’ll let each of yer say what one thing sticks in yer mind the most. Lucy, you can go first.’

‘Oh, that’s an easy one. Laurel and Hardy were on, and Mr Titch laughed so much he had to hold his tummy. And he had tears rolling down his cheeks.’

George roared. ‘Still a kid at heart, eh, Titch?’

‘Yer don’t have to be a kid to enjoy Laurel and Hardy,’ Titch said. ‘I think they’re the best, bar none.’

‘Your turn now, Greg,’ Irene said, her eyes on the clock. ‘And don’t make a meal of it, either.’

‘I’ll talk fifteen to the dozen, eh, Mam?’ Greg moved to the other side of his mother. ‘I’m getting out of Lucy’s way in case she belts me one. Yer see, the big picture was a sad one. And every time Janet Gaynor cried, Lucy cried. And when she wasn’t crying, she had her eyes shut tight. Yet when we came out of the picturehouse, she said it was a lovely film.’ He shook his head as though it was a mystery to him. ‘How is it, that girls are never happy unless they’ve got something to cry about.’

‘Nobody answer that,’ Irene warned. ‘Now, Jack, it’s your turn.’

‘I’m telling tales out of school now,’ Jack said, ‘but yer could have knocked me over with a feather when Mr Titch bought himself a packet of jelly babies.’

The laughter that piece of information brought was loud and long. And it would have continued if Irene hadn’t taken the boys by the scruff of their necks and pointed them to the door. ‘Up those stairs, now!’

Jack’s eyes slid sideways, ‘Mam, if yer strangle me, yer won’t only be losing yer lovely son, yer know. Yer’ll be losing the wages I’d have been earning if yer hadn’t strangled me.’

‘And if yer strangle me,’ squeaked Greg, ‘I’d be losing the pocket money he’d have given me if yer hadn’t strangled both of us.’

Her eyes showing her love for them, Irene hugged them close and kissed them. ‘If I ever kill yer, it’ll be with love. Now, behave yerselves and get up to bed.’

The boys stood in front of Titch and thanked him again. ‘If yer were a girl,’ Jack said, ‘then I would most definitely give yer a kiss.’

‘Oh, don’t start that again, our kid,’ Greg pulled on his arm, ‘or we’ll have our dad after us.’

As the boys clattered noisily up the stairs, Bob moved Lucy from his knee and stood up. ‘Those two boys of yours are real cases,’ he said. ‘Sharp as a razor, both of them.’

‘I know someone who’s a match for them, eh, Lucy?’ Titch chucked her under the chin. ‘She had them fair flummoxed at times, I can tell yer. With her looking so shy, and speaking in such a matter-of-fact voice, they don’t know whether she knows she’s being funny, or not. But between the three of them, they made tonight very special for me. They were a treat to take out.’

Lucy bent down and kissed his cheek. ‘Thank you, Mr Titch.’

‘Come on, pet,’ Bob took her hand, ‘yer’ll never get up in the morning.’

‘Come back when Lucy’s in bed,’ George said. ‘We can have a good natter.’

‘That’s a good idea, it’ll round the day off for me.’ Titch started to push himself up from the couch. ‘I’ll nip down to the corner and get a few bottles.’

He was thrown back on the couch before he knew what was happening, and Irene was standing over him. ‘Oh, no yer don’t, Titch McBride. For one night in yer life yer can do without knocking the brown stuff back. Yer can make do with a cup of tea like the rest of us, and one of me home-made scones. So put that in yer pipe and smoke it.’

‘What! I wouldn’t dream of putting one of yer home-made scones in me pipe and smoking it. Not when it was made by those fair hands of yours.’

George was watching Lucy and could see her eyes becoming heavy. ‘Take the lass home, Bob, before she falls asleep on her feet. She’s had enough excitement for one day. Titch will still be here when yer get back, Irene will see to that. If he makes one move, she’ll sit on him.’

His grin reaching from ear to ear, Titch held his arms wide. ‘Oh, yes, please.’

Chapter Six

‘What sort of time is this for her to be coming in?’ Ruby had been listening to the noise coming through the wall, and with each burst of laughter her temper had grown. ‘She’ll get used to all this fussing and yer’ll never do anything with her – she’ll expect it all the time.’

Bob didn’t answer, but his eyes spoke volumes. He took Lucy’s coat from her and said, ‘I’ll hang this up, pet, you’d better run down the yard before yer go to bed.’

‘Yeah, I think I better had.’ Lucy was glad to get away from the room and her mother’s spiteful tongue. There were no hugs for me from a loving mother, she thought. Mine couldn’t even ask me if I’d had a nice time. Still, she can’t take my memories of tonight away from me, that’s one thing. I can lie in bed and go over it all again, relishing every second.

Inside the house, Ruby wasn’t to be silenced. ‘Did yer hear what I said? It’s too late for her to be out. She should have been in bed an hour ago.’

‘Yer didn’t think of that the night yer left her on her own until nearly half-past ten, did yer? But I don’t suppose that counts, seeing as you were out enjoying yerself.’ Bob shook his head in disgust. ‘It’s hard to believe that a grown woman could be jealous of her own daughter. You never take her out because, apart from the fact yer can’t be bothered, it might cost yer a few pennies, and yer need them to keep up with yer boozing friends. Yet yer don’t like it when someone else
gives her what you should be giving her. And that’s a little love and attention.’ He heard Lucy running up the yard and pointed a warning finger. ‘One word out of place to her, and by God, yer’ll be sorry.’

‘I’ll go straight up, Dad, I’m dead tired.’ Lucy gave her father a kiss and left the room without a glance at the woman who had given birth to her. She didn’t act like a mother, Lucy’s sore leg reminded her of that, so she wasn’t going to treat her like one. But no matter how brave the words were that were running through her mind, in her heart she was hurt and sad. Why didn’t her mother love her like Mrs Pollard loved her boys? She wasn’t a bad girl, she’d done her best to make her mother love her. If she did, this house would be as happy as next door, and that would be wonderful. And her dad wouldn’t have that sad look she sometimes glimpsed in his eyes when he thought she wasn’t looking.

Lucy climbed into bed and pulled the clothes up to her chin. She was very tired and it wasn’t long before she could feel herself drifting into slumber. And as she did, there was a smile on her face as a picture flashed through her mind of Mr Titch biting the head off a green jelly baby.

Bob stood aside while Billy Gleeson slithered along the bench in the canteen, then he sat on his usual end seat. ‘It doesn’t seem like twenty-four hours, does it, Kate? I’ve never known the time to go so fast. It’s just flown over.’

‘I remember when I was about fifteen, me mam heard me saying I wished I was seventeen and able to go to dances. She gave me a lecture, saying I should make the most of my teenage years, because when I got to twenty-one the years would fly over.’ Kate smiled. ‘She was right, too, although I didn’t believe her at the time. But twenty-two years have gone by since then and I’ve hardly noticed them passing. It’s frightening when yer think about it.’

‘Go ’way, ye’re still a young woman,’ Bob said. ‘A mere slip of a girl.’

Billy had had his ear cocked. ‘He’s flattering yer, Kate, yer want to keep yer eye on him. I knew yer never should have given him that fairy cake.’

‘It’s not very often anyone flatters me, Billy, so I’m going to make the most of it. Just think what would have happened if I’d given him
two
cakes! Me head would be twice the size. I think when I go home I’ll tear me birth certificate up, then when I’m feeling weary I can tell meself I’m only twenty-one. There’ll be nothing to prove otherwise.’

‘Only that yer’ll still feel weary,’ Billy said, tapping the side of his long nose. ‘Yer body’s the one thing yer can’t fool. I should know because I feel every day of me thirty years.’

Bob chuckled. ‘Yer’ve lost fifteen years somewhere along the way, Billy.’

‘That’s only first thing in the morning, mate. I wake up as spritely as a spring chicken, ready to take on the world. But by the time I’ve bent down to put me shoes on, then try to straighten up again, those fifteen years let me know they’re still there.’ He cocked an ear. ‘Ay out, let’s listen to this.’

‘Hey, Elsie,’ Peg Butterworth spoke through a mouthful of corned beef sandwich. ‘Any more news from that house of ill-repute? The one where the woman’s having it off with the milkman and the coalman? At least, according to everyone in your street she is.’

Elsie’s eyes slewed sideways to see if Peg was making fun of her. But her mate’s face was dead straight. ‘Not everyone, Peg, there’s one silly cow who won’t hear of it. Mind you, the tight-fisted bitch is making a few coppers out of it, so she’s bound to believe what she wants to believe. It’s in her best interest, isn’t it?’

Peg put her buttie down and swivelled her bottom round. ‘Ye’re not going to tell me she stands at the door and charges the men? And then afterwards the two women split the dosh between them? Well, that takes the biscuit, that does. What sort of a street d’yer live in, girl?’

‘Don’t be so bleedin’ stupid, Peg Butterworth, of course
she doesn’t stand at the door taking money. There’d be a lynch mob out if she did that. Besides, she’s a sneaky thing, she doesn’t do anything in the open, it’s all underhanded.’

‘I know I’m a fool for asking,’ Peg said, ‘but I wouldn’t get a wink of sleep if I didn’t. How does this sneaky, underhanded woman make money out of the carryings-on of one of her neighbours?’ Then Peg banged a closed fist on the table. ‘I’ve got it! The men pay her money to keep her mouth shut. I’m right, aren’t I?’

‘Are yer hell,’ Elsie said. ‘Ye’re miles out! She doesn’t get no money off the men, she gets it from the horse.’

Disbelief showed on all faces for a few seconds, then laughter broke out. ‘Elsie, ye’re a real case,’ Billy chuckled. ‘Yer had us going for a minute.’

‘I’m not pulling yer legs, it’s the truth,’ Elsie said, a smug smile on her face. She’d teach them not to make fun of her. ‘She makes money out of the horse.’

‘I’ve got it!’ Once again Peg banged the table. ‘While the milkman’s in the house, doing you know what, this sneaky woman gives people rides in the trap and charges them. That’s it, isn’t it?’

‘Ye’re not even warm.’ Oh, how Elsie was enjoying being the centre of attention. ‘I know,’ said another workmate, Ada Smithson, ‘she lets the kids stroke the horse and charges them a ha’penny.’

‘Ye’re not even close.’ Elsie’s face was now wearing a haughty expression. She was going to milk this situation for all it was worth. ‘Try again.’

‘Not on yer life,’ Peg said. ‘Ye’re taking us for suckers. There’s no way she can make money out of the horse.’

‘Yes, there is, so there,’ Elsie snapped.

Peg was equally determined. ‘And I say there isn’t.’

‘There is, and don’t you call me a bleedin’ liar, either, or I’ll clock yer one.’

‘Yer’ll have to prove it, ’cos I don’t believe yer.’

Those sitting at the table looked as though they were
watching a tennis match, as their heads moved from Peg to Elsie. And when it looked as though Elsie wasn’t going to deliver the goods, Billy chipped in, ‘Go on, Elsie, put us out of our misery. We’re all on edge, waiting for yer to solve the mystery. How can she make money out of the horse?’

‘Manure.’ Elsie was still wearing her haughty face. ‘That’s what.’

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