Stay as Sweet as You Are (3 page)

Ruby hit on an idea as she turned into the butcher’s shop. She’d make the money up by cutting down on food, that’s what she’d do. If she was clever, no one would be any the wiser. And she’d start right now. ‘Just half-a-pound of steak, Stan, and a quarter of kidney.’ There, she gloated as the butcher cut the steak into small pieces, a quarter of steak less has saved me a few coppers. If I do that in every shop, every day, I’ll soon make up the five bob.

The meat was simmering on the stove when Lucy came running in from school. ‘I’m going out to play hopscotch with Rhoda, Mam. I’ll only be in the street.’

‘Just you hang on a minute, buggerlugs.’ Ruby threw her cigarette end in the hearth. ‘Yer can get in that kitchen and peel the spuds, never mind playing bleedin’ hopscotch.’

Lucy’s face fell. ‘But it’ll be dark soon and we won’t be able to play.’ There was pleading in her large green eyes. ‘Go on, Mam, please?’

‘Yer haven’t got cloth ears, so out in that kitchen before I belt yer one.’

Lucy was close to tears. ‘Just for half an hour, Mam?’ When she saw Ruby jump from her chair and make for her, the girl pressed back against the wall and lifted her arm to protect her face. ‘Don’t hit me, Mam, please.’

Ruby grabbed a handful of the dark hair and pulled. ‘Yer get those spuds peeled or I’ll break yer bleedin’ neck. Now—’ Her words were cut short by a loud banging on the open front door. Her face livid, she bawled, ‘What the hell d’yer want?’

‘Ruby, it’s Irene Pollard. Is everything all right? Young Rhoda here’s waiting for Lucy to come out to play, and she’s been knocking hell out of yer door for the last five minutes but can’t get anyone to answer. I just wondered if anything was wrong?’

Ruby bit so hard on the inside of her mouth she could taste blood. Any other neighbour she would have told to sod off, but Irene Pollard was a woman to be reckoned with. And her husband was very pally with Bob, too. ‘She’s coming now.’ Ruby took her daughter’s hand and squeezed until it hurt. She pulled her out to the front door. ‘I was telling her to wash her face before she went out, it’s filthy.’

‘Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,’ Irene said calmly. ‘She’d be dirty again in no time, so what’s the point? My two lads are playing ollies in the gutter, and they’re both as black as the hobs of hell. To say nothing about the state of their kecks. But they’ll be well-scrubbed before they go to bed.’

‘Will yer let go of me hand, please, Mam?’ Lucy asked. ‘Rhoda will be getting called in for her dinner before we’ve had a game.’

Ruby was almost spitting feathers with temper. And the look she gave her daughter as she joined her friend on the pavement, wasn’t lost on Irene. She’d bet a pound to a pinch of snuff that the girl would get a hammering for this. Unless Ruby was warned off. It was worth a try.

Watching the two girls marking the paving stones with a piece of chalk, Irene said casually, ‘If yer ever want to go out at night, Ruby, when Bob’s at work, yer can always leave Lucy with us, yer know. We’d love to have her.’

You bitch, Ruby thought. I bet yer had yer ears to the wall
last night, listening. ‘What made yer ask that? Yer’ve never asked before.’

‘It was just a thought. She gets on well with the boys and would probably enjoy playing cards with them.’ Irene stretched to her full height and folded her arms under her ample bosom. ‘The offer’s there, if yer want to take me up on it sometime.’

‘No, Lucy usually goes to bed about eight o’clock.’ Then begrudgingly, she added, ‘But thanks all the same.’

‘Well, if yer change yer mind, just knock on the wall.’ Irene was determined to get her point across. ‘We’d have no trouble hearing yer – these walls are so thin yer can hear
everything
that goes on either side.’ She smiled as Lucy hopped from one square to another, her pink tongue peeping out of the side of her mouth. ‘She’s a beautiful child. I hope yer know how lucky yer are.’

Ruby had no intention of answering that. The nosy bitch had gone far enough. The next thing, she’d be inviting herself in for a cup of tea. ‘I’ll have to go in, or me stew will be sticking to the bottom of the pan.’

There was a half-smile on Irene’s chubby face. She’d gone as far as she could; she only hoped the message had got home. She’d keep her ears open tonight, just in case, but she had a feeling Ruby would be keeping her hands to herself, for a while at least.

Irene waited until Rhoda had completed the course before asking, ‘Who’s winning?’

‘We’re even, Mrs Pollard.’ Both girls were puffing and red in the face. After all, it was hard going hopping from one number to another. If you couldn’t keep your balance, and your other foot touched the ground, you were counted out.

Lucy grinned. ‘We always end up even, Mrs Pollard. We let each other win, don’t we, Rhoda?’

Rhoda’s long, stringy hair had been tied back with a piece of ribbon, but with the exertion, most of it had come loose and was hanging down her cheeks. She was the same
age as Lucy, but a much bigger girl in every way. Inches taller than her friend, she was very heavily built. She worried about that, but her mam had told her it was puppy fat and she’d lose it as she grew older. A big smile covered her face now. ‘Lucy means we cheat, Mrs Pollard.’

Irene chuckled. ‘If yer both know ye’re doing it, then it’s not cheating, sunshine. It means ye’re such good friends yer want to share.’

‘Me dad’s taking me to town on Saturday, Mrs Pollard, to buy me some new clothes.’ Lucy’s face was aglow. Never before had she had anything so exciting to brag about. ‘Aren’t I lucky?’

Irene put on a suitably impressed face. ‘I’ll say yer are! I hope he buys yer a pretty dress to match yer pretty face.’ To say she was surprised would be putting it mildly. It sounded as though Bob had changed with a vengeance. ‘Will yer call and let us see yer in yer new clothes, sunshine?’

‘If me mam will let me.’ Some of the shine had gone from Lucy’s face. ‘I’ll ask her, but she might say I’m showing off.’

‘Anyone with new clothes wants to show them off, it’s only natural. Anyway, seeing as it’s yer dad what’s mugging yer, it’s him yer should ask.’

Lucy thought that over for a few seconds, then smiled. ‘Ye’re right, Mrs Pollard, I’ll ask me dad.’

Rhoda looked down in the mouth. ‘I wish me mam would take me with her when she buys my clothes, then I could pick what I like.’

‘Your mam buys yer lovely clothes!’ Lucy said. ‘Yer always look pretty.’

Irene took a deep breath. Next to her friend, Lucy always looked like a tramp, but she never complained. There was no envy or malice in her, she was a good kid through and through. What a pity her mother didn’t appreciate it. They say God makes them and matches them, but He had certainly slipped up when He’d matched this angel with a devil like Ruby Mellor.

Lucy didn’t let her excitement show until she was standing on the pavement watching her dad pull the door closed behind him. All morning she’d been on pins in case something happened to spoil the treat she’d been looking forward to. Her mother’s face had been like thunder, and although she didn’t lift her hand to Lucy, she gave her a dig in the ribs every time she passed. It would have taken very little for her temper to explode, so the girl did as she was told without a word, while willing the hands on the clock to move faster until it was time for her dad to get up at ten o’clock. Even then she didn’t feel safe because although her dad seemed at ease chatting to her, not a word was exchanged between him and her mam. Still, it was over now and they were on their way.

Bob took his daughter’s hand and smiled down at her. ‘I think we’ll hop off the tram at Great Homer Street and try the market there, see if there’s anything doing. Yer never know, we might just be lucky and pick up a bargain. If not, we won’t have lost anything, and we can carry on into town. What d’yer think?’

‘I’m that excited, Dad, I don’t care where we go.’ Lucy began to swing their joined hands. ‘I’ve never been into town before.’

Bob looked surprised. ‘Of course yer have!’

‘No, I haven’t, Dad, honest!’

‘I used to take yer through town, when yer were little, to
get down to the Pier Head. Don’t yer remember going on the ferry boats?’

Lucy’s brow creased in concentration. ‘I remember little bits, but not much. I must have only been a baby, Dad.’

Bob nodded. ‘Yeah, I used to carry yer on me shoulders and yer mam was left to lug the sandwiches and towels and things.’ Suddenly he was filled with a great sadness. What had he been thinking of all these years, while his daughter’s childhood was passing her by? It would be easy to lay the blame at Ruby’s door, but he must bear some of the responsibility. He should have put his foot down at the very beginning, when his wife made the excuse of visiting one of her old workmates and came home smelling of drink. He’d been blind and stupid, and the one to suffer most had been his beloved daughter. All he could do now was try to make it up to her. ‘I’ll take yer on the ferry to New Brighton next time I’ve got a Saturday off. Would yer like that?’

‘I’d like it, Dad, but ye’re buying me new clothes and that’s what I’d like most. After all,’ she grinned up at him, ‘ye’re not made of money.’

‘Ye’re right there, pet, but what I’ve got I’ll have to stretch a long way. Like it was a piece of elastic.’

They didn’t have long to wait for a tram, and Lucy made for a window seat. Her eyes were wide as Bob told her the names of the streets and pointed out landmarks. When they reached Everton Valley, he said, ‘Next stop’s ours, pet.’

The market was absolutely packed. Lucy gripped her father’s hand tight, frightened by the mass of heaving bodies. ‘We’ll never get through there, Dad, we’ll get separated and I’ll lose yer. I wouldn’t know how to get home on me own, and I’ve no money for a tram.’

Bob put an arm across her shoulders. ‘You just hang on to me jacket like grim death, pet, and we’ll do what everyone else is doing, push our way through.’

Lucy gradually calmed down as she got used to the
pushing and shoving and the noise of the stallholders shouting out their wares. She would have liked to have seen what they were selling, but the crowd standing in front of the stalls was so deep it was impossible to see anything.

‘There’s a woman selling children’s clothes,’ Bob said. ‘Let’s make our way over there.’ He elbowed a path through the crowds, pulling Lucy behind him. ‘Some of those look nice.’ He pointed to a makeshift rail where there was a display of girls’ dresses. ‘Is there anything there that takes yer fancy?’

‘They’re all nice, Dad, but it doesn’t say how much they are.’

‘There’s only one way to find out, and that’s to ask.’ Ignoring the dark looks being cast his way, Bob pushed and manoeuvred until they were in front of the trestle table which was piled high with secondhand children’s clothes. ‘How much are those dresses, Missus?’

‘They’re all different prices, lad,’ said the stallholder, wearing the uniform long black skirt and black knitted shawl. ‘Show me which one and I’ll tell yer the price. Dirt cheap, they are – yer won’t get anything cheaper if yer travel the length and breadth of Liverpool.’

‘Which one, Lucy?’ Bob looked down into those wide green eyes which were now shining with excitement. ‘What about that one with flowers on, and a lace collar? That would look nice on yer.’

But Lucy knew which one she liked the best as soon as she’d set eyes on it. It was in a deep maroon cotton, very plain with a round neck and long sleeves. If she was going to get a new dress, that was the one her heart would choose. She pointed to it. ‘That’s the one I like, Dad, but it might be too dear.’

Bob crossed his fingers as he asked, ‘How much is that one?’

‘Two and six, lad, and that’s practically giving it away.’

‘Would it fit me daughter?’

The stallholder eyed Lucy. ‘How old are yer, girl?’

Lucy had never felt so important in her life. Being able to choose her own clothes was something she’d never known before. She took what was thrown at her and was never asked if she liked it. ‘I’m eleven, Missus, but I’ll be twelve in four weeks’ time.’

When the stallholder smiled, she showed a row of yellow teeth, but her smile was wide and friendly. ‘Ye’re very dainty for yer age, girl, and very pretty, too. That dress will fit yer like a glove, as though it was made for yer. Yer’ll have all the lads whistling after yer when yer walk out in it.’

Bob handed the half-a-crown over, and as he waited for the dress to be hooked down, Lucy was looking through the clothes piled on the table. She tugged on her father’s sleeve and when he looked down, she beckoned for him to bend so she could whisper in his ear. ‘Dad, there’s girls’ knickers here. Could I have a pair, please?’

‘But they’re secondhand ones, pet. Yer wouldn’t want to wear someone else’s cast-offs, would yer? Not knickers, anyway.’

‘They’d be clean if I gave them a good wash, wouldn’t they?’ Lucy was embarrassed and averted her eyes. ‘They’re better than the two pair I’ve got. The elastic’s gone on them and I have to pin them up.’

Bob closed his eyes. Dear God, what was that wife of his thinking of? He gave her enough money to keep the child well fed and clothed. Had she no love at all for her daughter, no shame that the child was going around with pins in her knickers? And this was only the start. There was plenty more he didn’t know about, of that he was sure. ‘Pick three decent pair out, pet, and they’ll keep yer going until we can get yer new ones.’

The stallholder didn’t appear to be listening, but she heard every word. Working the markets gave you an insight into people, taught you how to sort the wheat from the chaff. So when Bob handed over the three pair of knickers, she
knocked a penny off the price of each pair. ‘That’ll be a tanner, lad. And if yer don’t mind me saying so, yer’ve got a little cracker there, so you take good care of her, mind.’

Bob smiled his thanks then guided Lucy through the crowds and out into the street. ‘How would yer like a little treat? What d’yer say about getting a tram down to TJ’s and having a cup of tea in the café´ there?’

Lucy was clutching the paper bag and telling herself this was the best day of her life. She couldn’t wait to show Rhoda her new dress. She wouldn’t tell her about the knickers though, she’d be too ashamed. ‘That would be the gear, Dad, but can yer afford it? Yer’ve spent a lot of money on me as it is.’