Stay as Sweet as You Are (21 page)

‘It wouldn’t do no harm, Ma.’

Irene nodded. ‘If she’d listen to anyone, it would be you, Aggie. But tell Steve to warn her that ye’re going, otherwise she won’t open the door.’

‘I’ve got it all worked out in me head, Irene. I know a good way of making sure she opens the door. And I’ll let yer know how I get on.’

‘Yeah, don’t forget, Aggie, ’cos I’ll be on pins.’ Irene looked down at her working clothes and grimaced. ‘I’ll have to go to the shops in these, I haven’t got time to change. I’ve usually done me shopping by now and got the dinner on the go.’ She put her arms around Aggie and kissed her cheek. ‘Lots of luck tomorrow, sunshine. I hope Olive listens to yer words of wisdom.’

‘We’ll see, girl, we’ll see.’

When Titch came back after seeing Irene out, his mother was busy in the kitchen. ‘What have yer got going on in that head of yours, Ma?’

Aggie tapped the side of her nose. ‘That’s for me to know, son, and you to find out.’

‘How can I find out if yer won’t tell me? I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours.’

‘Neither do I, son, so that makes two of us. So we’ll both have to wait until tomorrow to find out, won’t we? And while yer’ve got nothing else to do but wait until tomorrow, go and see how Steve’s getting on. Tell him it won’t be long now before I’ve got that bite to eat I promised him.’

Steve pushed his plate away and licked his lips before sighing with appreciation. Aggie had made him three thick slices of toast and had grilled it with cheese on top. A feast to a boy who was lucky to get a dripping butty. ‘I really enjoyed that, Mrs Aggie. It was very tasty, and very welcome.’

‘If it wasn’t for me son and his queer habits, yer’d have been having a proper dinner,’ Aggie told him. ‘But he’s so used to having his hot dinner at teatime, he doesn’t enjoy it in the middle of the day.’ Then she added, by way of an explanation, ‘That’s because he’s away at sea more than he’s home, yer see.’

‘That’s right, Ma, put the blame on me,’ Titch said. ‘Me shoulders are wide enough to take it.’

‘And yer legs are strong enough to walk to the kitchen and pour the lad another cup of tea. It’s thirsty work, is painting.’

Titch refilled Steve’s cup, then sat down to wait for his mother to broach the subject of the clothes. He didn’t have long to wait.

‘I was cleaning Titch’s room out the other day, lad, and he’s got more clothes up there than they’ve got in Blackler’s. There’s some he’ll never wear again, but they’re too good to throw out. So I was wondering if yer’d be embarrassed if I asked yer if yer’d like to take a look at them? There’s no harm done if they don’t fit yer, or yer don’t like them. What d’yer think?’

Steve’s face was agog. ‘Oh yeah, Mrs Aggie, I’d be made
up. As yer can see, I’m not well off for clothes.’ Then a thought hit him and the brightness in his eyes dimmed. ‘But I don’t know whether me mam would like me taking clothes off yer. I’d have to ask her first, in case she got upset.’

‘I’ve already asked yer mam, Steve,’ Titch said. ‘I mentioned it to her when I was up there earlier and she wasn’t in the least bit upset. In fact, she seemed highly delighted.’

‘That’s the gear, that, Mr Titch, thanks very much.’ Steve became fidgety. He didn’t want to seem forward, or cheeky, not after they’d been so good to him. But the thought of going to school in decent clothes and not having the two school bullies make fun of him, was one he couldn’t cast aside. And to be able to walk up this street and feel as good as anyone else, that would be like a dream come true. So he took a deep breath and asked, ‘When can I see them?’

Aggie could sense the lad’s nerves were as taut as a violin string, and thought, God love the poor beggar. ‘Yer can see them now, Steve. Titch will take yer upstairs and yer can try some of them on for size. The trousers might be too long in the leg for yer, but that’s easily remedied.’ Then she hit her forehead with an open palm. ‘I forgot, yer can’t wear long trousers for school!’

‘Yes, I can. There’s a couple of boys in my class who wear them. They were hand-me-downs from their dads ’cos they couldn’t afford to buy the short ones the school say we’ve got to wear. The first boy who came in long trousers was sent home by the headmistress and told not to come back until he was wearing short grey trousers like the rest of the class. But the boy’s father dragged him back an hour later and played merry hell with the headmistress. He told her if she wanted his son in short trousers she’d have to buy them herself because he couldn’t afford to. And he said if she sent his son home again, he’d keep him at home because he’d learned all he was going to learn. But wouldn’t yer think the school would understand that people can’t help being poor?’ Steve’s face took on a look of defiance. ‘I’m fourteen in just under
six months, but I’ve got to stay on an extra three months until the end of term. I don’t think that’s fair, not when me mam needs me working and bringing in a few bob.’

‘I’ve got news for yer, Steve,’ Titch said. ‘Once ye’re fourteen, the school authorities have got to let yer leave as long as yer have a good reason. And being hard-pressed for money is one of the reasons. Yer have to apply, of course, and prove that ye’re a deserving case. But that shouldn’t cause yer a problem. They’ll send someone out to the house to see what yer circumstances are, but that’s only a formality.’

Steve looked as though he’d lost a ha’penny and found a ten-bob note. ‘One of the lads in our class said he was leaving on his birthday, but I didn’t believe him, I thought he was pulling me leg.’ He shook his head. ‘Wouldn’t yer think the teachers would tell yer these things? They know how hard-up some of the families are, they’ve only got to look at us to see that. I mean, would I walk around like this if I had a choice?’

‘Ah well, lad, teachers don’t come from poor families,’ Aggie said. ‘They don’t know what it’s like to have yer tummy rumbling with hunger and no food to eat. Nor have they ever gone bare-arsed or barefoot, like some poor kids. Not that I’m blaming them for not knowing what it is to be poor, they can’t help the families they were born into. But they could be a bit more understanding of those less fortunate. I know they’re there to teach yer the catechism, yer five times table, and the date of the Battle of Hastings, but they could show some sympathy while they’re doing it.’

Titch was wide-eyed. ‘That was a long speech, Ma! Yer had me back in the classroom there, getting me knuckles rapped for not knowing the date of the Battle of Hastings. I had it drummed into me so much, I’ll never forget it. And a fat lot of good it’s done me because no one has ever asked me.’

Steve was rapping his fingers on the table, a contented look on his face. ‘Yer know, I’ll remember this day as one of
the best in me life. Yer’ve given me a job so I can give me mam some money, yer’ve offered me clothes which I badly need, and I’ve learned I can leave school three months earlier than I thought. And as if that wasn’t enough, on top of it all, I’ve really enjoyed meself.’

‘I’m glad about that, lad, ’cos yer deserve a bit of luck.’ Aggie leaned across the table and smiled into his face. ‘Now yer can make
me
happy by going upstairs and seeing if those clothes are any good to yer. If they’re not, I’ll let yer look through mine and see if there’s anything takes yer fancy. All except me fleecy-lined bloomers, ’cos I’m partial to them and wouldn’t part with ’em even for King Tut himself.’

Steve was laughing as he followed Titch out of the room. ‘Our teacher must be slipping up, ’cos I’ve never heard of King Tut.’

‘Ye’re not missing much, Steve, so don’t worry,’ Titch said, throwing open his bedroom door. ‘Even King Tut’s never heard of himself.’

Aggie’s heart was singing as she collected the dirty dishes. She’d taken a real liking to the lad and was glad to have been able to put a little happiness into his life. She couldn’t always be so generous, not when Titch was away, ’cos she had to live on the allowance he left her each week and the tiny widow’s pension she got. But it didn’t cost anything to be a friend, and that’s what she hoped she could be to Steve.

The few dishes washed, Aggie went to stand at the bottom of the stairs. She couldn’t hear the words that were spoken because the bedroom door was closed, but she could tell by the high pitch of Steve’s laughter, and her son’s deep chuckle, that things were going well in that room. And as she made her way to her rocking chair, she thanked God. He was the one Who made it all possible, and when she was saying her prayers tonight, she’d have a word with Him about Olive. It wouldn’t hurt to have a word in the right ear.

There came a clattering of footsteps on the stairs and Aggie leaned forward in anticipation. Titch was the first to
enter the room and his beaming smile was a sign of things to come. Waving a hand towards the door and bowing from the waist, he announced, ‘Let me introduce you to Mr Steven Fletcher.’

Aggie’s jaw dropped. The lad standing before her, grinning like a Cheshire cat, would pass for sixteen in the long navy-blue trousers, and a grey pullover over a white shirt. ‘Well, I never would have believed it. Yer look like a real toff! And a handsome one, at that! By heck, lad, when yer mam sees yer all dolled up to the nines she’ll be that proud of yer, she’ll soon get herself better so she can go out holding on to yer arm.’

‘I couldn’t believe it meself, Mrs Aggie, when I saw the clothes all neatly piled up. There’s everything there, from underclothes, hankies, socks, shirts, pullovers and trousers. I’m going to have to pinch meself in a minute to make sure I’m not dreaming.’

‘The trousers are a couple of inches too long for him,’ Titch said, ‘but everything else fits fine. And he takes a size six and a half in shoes, only half a size smaller than me. So he can have the brown pair I don’t wear very much.’

Steve’s head was somewhere in the clouds, he just couldn’t believe all this was happening to him. ‘Tell me I’m not dreaming, Mrs Aggie.’

‘Yer’ll soon know ye’re not dreaming when yer get that paintbrush in yer hand, lad, and I’m standing behind yer with me poker.’ Aggie was feeling very emotional and had to force herself to speak as though nothing out of the ordinary was taking place. ‘Before yer take those trousers off, let me see how much wants turning up on them. Hang on till I get me box of pins.’

‘Leave a big hem on them, Ma,’ Titch said, ‘because at the rate he’s growing they’ll need to be let down in a month or so.’

‘I know what I’m doing, son, I don’t need no help. And I’ll sit and sew them tonight, while you’re off boozing with yer
shipmates. If I can, I’ll shorten the grey pair, as well.’

‘I can’t wait for me mam to see them,’ Steve said, his tummy beginning to settle down. ‘I know she’ll be over the moon.’

‘I’ve been thinking about that,’ Aggie said, as she got down on her knees and put the pin box on the floor beside her. ‘Yer’d better not let the whole street see yer carrying them, yer know what a nosy lot some of them are. So I thought it would be best if I nip down with them tomorrow while you’re busy painting. I’d use the back entries so no one would see me.’ She put half-a-dozen pins in her mouth, then lowered her head so she wouldn’t see the doubt on Steve’s face. ‘Tell yer mam to leave the yard door open, there’s a good lad.’

Busy pinning the hem up to the required length, Aggie reminded herself of the old saying that sometimes yer have to be cruel to be kind. Well, that’s what she was doing, and she hoped Steve and his mam would come to realise that in the near future.

‘Ye’re a crafty one, you are, Ma,’ Titch said, as he watched Steve through the net curtains. ‘Yer didn’t ask the lad, yer told him.’

‘And what d’yer think he’d have said if I’d asked him, eh? He’d have put me off, that’s what. And I’m not going to be put off. Come hell or high water, I’m going to see Olive tomorrow. If she throws me out on me backside, then so be it. But at least I would have tried.’

‘It wasn’t a criticism, Ma, I’m proud to have a mother who’s a better actress than Norma Shearer. And better-looking than Jean Harlow.’

‘If yer hadn’t noticed, son, Jean Harlow has blonde hair. And her waist is about the size of the top of my arm.’

‘Ah, well, there’s an explanation for that. Yer see, she wears a wig. Her real hair is the same colour as yours. And she’s laced tightly into a pair of stays, that’s how come she looks so slim in the films.’

Aggie was busy unpicking the hem on the trousers and she stopped for a moment to look up at her son with a smile on her face. ‘Oh, yer know the lady well, do yer? A friend of yours, is she?’

‘We’re like that, Ma.’ Titch crossed two fingers. ‘As thick as thieves.’

‘In that case, why don’t yer ask her if she wants her yard whitewashing? Steve could get away with charging her ten bob, ’cos she must be rolling in money. Stands to reason if she can afford wigs and stays. Neither of them come cheap.’

‘Alas, Ma, she hasn’t got a yard. All the film stars have great big houses and they stand in acres of land.’ Titch managed to keep his face straight. ‘Mind you, if she had a yard she’d definitely let Steve whitewash it for her, if I asked her.’

‘Well, if she hasn’t got a yard, where does she keep her lavvy?’ That’s got you, thought Aggie as the chair rocked with her laughter. ‘Caught yer out there, haven’t I, clever clogs?’

‘D’yer know, I’ve never thought to ask her. I will next time I see her, though, and I’ll let yer know. Interesting point, that, Ma.’

‘Write it down so yer won’t forget. And underneath it write “a reel of navy-blue cotton”. The corner shop will have one, so yer’ll be there and back in five minutes if yer don’t stop to gossip to the neighbours.’

‘I’m on me way, Ma, but one good turn deserves another. I know yer want to get the trousers done, but don’t let that make yer late with the dinner. I’m meeting me mates at seven so I’ll have to leave here, all spruced up, by half-six.’

‘Your wish is my command, oh Great One. I am only on this earth to serve you.’ Aggie jerked a thumb towards the door. ‘Now get yer bleedin’ skates on.’ She heard Titch laugh as he opened the front door, and called, ‘Don’t come back with the wrong message or I’ll make yer take it back. That’s after I’ve tanned yer backside for yer.’