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Authors: Rosie Harris

BOOK: The Cobbler's Kids
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She tried to point out that the housekeeping money wasn’t only for food, but that she had to buy cleaning materials and clothes for Benny out of it, too.

In desperation she had to ask Eddy if he could manage to give her a few shillings more.

‘I’m already using all my wages to eke out the housekeeping and I still can’t make ends meet. I know you and Rita want to get engaged, and that you are saving up to buy a ring, so once I get the hang of balancing out the housekeeping you can stop giving me extra,’ she promised.

She also suggested to Eddy that it would help if he gave her a hand when he came home in the evenings. ‘If you could clear away the dishes and wash up when we’ve finished our meal, I could get straight on with the house cleaning,’ she told him. ‘It takes me all day on Sunday to do the washing, and then there’s all the ironing and mending to do somehow, too. I have to leave changing the beds and all the other jobs for weekdays when I come home from work.’

At first Eddy wasn’t very enthusiastic, but once he realised how much responsibility Vera had to shoulder he was as helpful as could be. He even encouraged Benny to lend a hand.

‘You can help by clearing the table,’ he told him. ‘You bring everything through to the scullery so that I can wash them. OK?’

Benny treated it like some kind of game to start with, but he quickly tired of it. More often than not, Benny would leave half the dishes on the table. Eddy would keep calling to him to bring the rest through, but usually, in the end, he had to go and collect them himself.

This nightly pandemonium, as he termed it, infuriated their father. When he tried to take his temper out on Eddy by calling him shiftless, Eddy retaliated by telling him it was about time he helped around the place.

The row that ensued had both of them shouting abuse at each other. Vera, who was upstairs changing the beds, came running down to see what was happening.

‘What on earth is going on?’ she asked, looking at their angry faces.

Neither of them would answer. When Benny, who was cowering under the table, piped up, ‘They’re fighting over who does the dishes,’ Vera had to suppress the urge to laugh, knowing that both of them would be furious if she did.

‘You’re the one who should be clearing up and washing the dishes,’ her father barked, stabbing at her chest with his forefinger.

‘I’ve only got one pair of hands,’ she retorted, her blue eyes flaring, ‘and there’s so many other jobs that need doing that I can’t fit them all in.’

‘You could do if you stayed home and ran the place properly instead of spending your day in that piss-farting office.’

‘Right,’ she told him defiantly, ‘I’ll stay home if you’ll give me the same amount of money each week as I’m earning at Elbrown’s.’

Michael Quinn didn’t even bother to answer. Shoving her roughly to one side he stomped upstairs. Vera and Eddy exchanged knowing looks as they heard him pulling out drawers and banging cupboard doors. He was changing into his best clothes before going out for the night on a drinking spree.

‘He’s in a terrible temper so we’d better all be in bed when he comes back home tonight,’ Vera warned after their father had left the house.

‘You can be, I’m off out to see Rita once I’ve finished helping you,’ Eddy told her.

‘Then make sure you don’t wake Dad up when you come home. You can see the mood he’s in, and after he’s had a few drinks he’ll be itching for a fight.’

‘And I’m the very person to take him on,’ Eddy boasted, flexing his muscles.

Vera shook her head. ‘No, Eddy. It’s wrong to fight your dad.’

‘It’s wrong for him to treat us as his slaves and to speak to us like he does, but it doesn’t stop him.’

‘I think he’s still very upset about Mam dying,’ Vera murmured.

‘About him causing her death, you mean!’ Eddy exploded. ‘If he hadn’t lashed out at her she would never have stepped back and …’ He stopped as he caught the warning in Vera’s eyes. She put a finger to her lips and nodded at Benny, who was listening to all they were saying.

‘Go on, you go out and I’ll finish clearing up the dishes.’

Eddy shrugged. ‘I know I should do more around the place, but I feel knackered most nights when I get home, especially now that I’m going to night school straight from work. I know you must be just as tired after working in that office all day, so perhaps we should draw up a rota showing which of us is responsible for doing what.’

‘That’s not a bad idea,’ Vera agreed. ‘It would save the jobs piling up, or,’ she added with a grin, ‘me forgetting that they have to be done.’

‘And make sure you include Dad on the list,’ Eddy added firmly.

Vera laughed. ‘I don’t think he’d take any notice, do you?’

‘He might if you typed it all up on that machine in your office and made it look all official,’ Eddy said hopefully.

After she’d finished changing the beds, tidying downstairs and putting Benny to bed, Vera made herself a cup of tea and sat down in her father’s armchair. She’d found a piece of notepaper and a pencil, so she began drawing up a list of the many tasks there were to do.

She started the list with the everyday jobs like making the beds, washing the dishes, cleaning out the ashes from the fireplace, making up the fire and preparing meals for them all. Then came all the other tasks which she did weekly, or whenever she could manage to fit them in. Washing, ironing, sweeping the floor, scrubbing the steps, cleaning the windows and getting the shopping.

For once she was glad that their home was so sparsely furnished. There were no ornaments to dust and, since there was only one rag-rug on the bare boards in the living room, it didn’t take long to sweep the floor.

When she’d covered both sides of the paper she almost gave up in despair because there were so many jobs. But she found some more writing paper and began to divide the list up into separate columns. There were a great many which she would have to do herself, but also some that Eddy could help her with, or perhaps even her father might agree to do. She also made a list of those that she thought Benny would be able to do.

When she’d finished she put the list to one side. She would look through it again tomorrow, she told herself. She felt far too tired to check through to see if everything was on it. All she wanted to do was go to bed and sleep.

Vera had no idea how long she’d been in bed when she felt someone dragging at the bedcovers and shouting something she couldn’t understand.

When she managed to open her eyes she found it was her father who was trying to waken her, and he was shaking her roughly by the shoulder. Her first thought, as she struggled to sit up, was that there must be something wrong with Benny, that he had been taken ill in the night.

‘Downstairs! Get downstairs right this minute you lazy little bint!’

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes and pushing her hair back from her face Vera reached out for her dressing gown that she’d spread across the bed for extra warmth. Roughly he pushed her hand away. Seizing her by the arm he began to drag her out onto the landing. The noise as she fell against Eddy’s bedroom door brought him out of bed to see what was going on.

In a flash, his hand shot out and grabbed hold of his sister, pulling her into the safety of his room before he faced his father.

‘You trying to push our Vera down the stairs and kill her the same as you did our mam?’ he asked, his voice hoarse with fury.

‘Piss off, you silly young sod, and get back to sleep,’ Mike Quinn told him contemptuously. ‘I want my supper and that lazy little bitch hasn’t left it on the table ready for me.’

‘If you want some supper then go and get it yourself,’ Eddy told him in a sibilant snarl. ‘And make sure you clear up after you as well! Don’t think you can leave your dirty dishes for one of us to deal with in the morning before we go out to work.’

With a muttered oath, Michael Quinn’s fist shot out and slammed Eddy’s head against the door jamb. Vera screamed in terror. She tried to stop Eddy retaliating, but her brother was too quick for her. His punch landed fair and square on his father’s chin, snapping the older man’s head back.

Michael Quinn responded with a belly blow that left Eddy doubled up, but even that didn’t stop him. Fuelled by fury, Eddy hammered at his father with piston-like blows. Some went wide of their mark, but enough were on target to wind the older man and make him retreat. Cursing loudly, he lurched his way downstairs.

Eddy turned to Vera who was shaking with fright. ‘Go on, back to your bed. He won’t bother us any more tonight. He’s probably too drunk to come upstairs again so he’ll sleep in his armchair.’

‘What will happen tomorrow, though?’ she asked anxiously. ‘He won’t let either of us get away with this.’

‘He probably won’t even mention it. He wouldn’t want the whole world to know that his eighteen-year-old son had managed to give him a good hiding.’

Vera shook her head, not at all sure about this. She was grateful for the way that Eddy had stood up for her, but she was scared that it was going to cause trouble and dreaded what form the repercussions would take.

Suddenly she was seeing Eddy in a new light. He was a force to be reckoned with. He might not be very tall but he was now a sturdy young man. It was obvious from his encounter with their father that the time he’d spent as an apprentice in the Merseyside shipyards had developed his muscles.

Vera saw now that it hadn’t been mere boasting when he said that he was as strong as their dad and no longer feared him. He also had the advantage of being more agile and alert than Michael because he was so much younger.

Nevertheless, she was worried. She could only hope that the fracas wouldn’t result in too much bad feeling between them. She knew without being told that the moment Eddy was fully qualified he wouldn’t think twice about walking out of their home if he had any further disagreements with their dad. The fact that he was planning to get engaged to Rita meant that he was already thinking about an independent future.

She shuddered at the thought of being left at home on her own to look after Benny and her father. With Eddy gone it would mean that her dad could bully her as much as he liked and make her life, and little Benny’s, sheer hell because there would be no one there to stand up for them.

At that moment she missed her mother deeply and longed to be able to turn back the tide of events. If they hadn’t defied her dad by going over to New Brighton, if she hadn’t persuaded her mother to take a detour through Wallasey instead of coming straight home, then he might never have known they’d been out for the day.

If there had been a hot meal ready for him, if she’d been the one to go upstairs with Benny …

The series of events raced round and round in her head like buzzing bluebottles until she thought she would go mad. There was nothing she could do about any of it, she told herself. Her mam couldn’t help her now, the future was in her own hands. She had to be strong, she had to do everything she could to make sure that Benny was safe and well looked after and that she didn’t end up being browbeaten like her mother had been.

Chapter Thirteen

Early in 1926, after a miserable Christmas, Vera felt she couldn’t stand it any longer. Looking after their home, coping with her job, and making sure that little Benny was all right, kept her so busy that she had no time for herself. Even though Joan Frith asked her time and time again to go to the pictures or out dancing, she always had to refuse.

In desperation she asked Eddy if he would give up just one evening a week to be there with Benny so that she could go out.

‘It’s difficult enough as it is, Vee,’ he grumbled. ‘As well as giving you a hand here I have to divide up my free time between night school, going out with my mates and seeing Rita.’

‘You’re still seeing her?’ Vera grinned.

‘You know I am! I’ve already told you that once I’ve finished my apprenticeship we’ll get engaged.’

‘In that case, shouldn’t you both be saving up? Rita needs to start a bottom drawer in readiness, you know.’

‘What are you getting at?’ Eddy frowned.

‘Instead of the two of you spending money on going to the pictures and so on, why don’t you stay in occasionally. Bring Rita round here, then you can keep an eye on Benny, and I will be able to have a night out,’ she suggested.

Eddy pursed his lips in a silent whistle. ‘Got it all worked out, haven’t you? Have you spoken to Dad about it. I don’t imagine he’ll go a bundle on the idea. You know what he’s like. He’s never allowed us to bring any friends home.’

‘Yes, I know,’ Vera said, ‘but we can’t leave Benny here on his own with him.’

Eddy nodded glumly. ‘Yes, if Dad decided he wanted to go out for a drink he’d go without a second thought about Benny.’

‘Quite, and if Benny gets upset or does something he doesn’t approve of he’ll …’

‘Thump his bloody skull,’ Eddy said bitterly.

‘That’s right!’

They looked at each other and smiled. ‘We can’t risk it,’ Eddy agreed. ‘Tell you what, you talk to Dad about it, see if he raises any objections, and I’ll ask Rita if she’ll agree to do it.’

It was easier to persuade Rita than their father. Rita had always been curious about Vee’s home, and wondered why it was that in all the time they’d known each other Vee had never invited her for tea.

Added to that she was quite taken by the idea of her and Eddy being able to spend an evening on their own. Her mam and dad made quite sure that whenever she took him back to her place they were never left alone for a second.

‘I can’t guarantee that my dad will go out, mind luv,’ Eddy warned, when she mentioned this fact to him.

‘Have to keep our fingers crossed then, won’t we,’ she giggled.

At first, Michael Quinn was stubbornly against Edmund bringing his girlfriend home.

‘What the hell do you think this place is, a bloody brothel?’ he asked Vera scornfully when she suggested it.

‘Of course not, Dad. Don’t say things like that. They just want the chance to be together, somewhere where they can sit and talk.’

‘Well, let them do it some other place, not here. When I’ve finished work I want to sit down and read the
Echo
, not listen to the sort of twaddle those two will be nattering on about. Why can’t they go and do it at her house, not here in this bloody tip.’

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