The Girl From Number 22 (27 page)

‘It might have taught yer a lesson on being more careful with food, girl, but did it teach yer anything about manners?’ Hetty moved sideways, out of reach of her mate’s expected reaction. ‘It strikes me yer’ve forgotten a lot of what yer mam tried to drill into yer. Yer manners can be shocking at times.’

‘Yer might well move away, Hetty Watson, yer cheeky beggar.’ Ada managed a soulful expression before dropping her head. ‘That hurt, that did. I really thought yer were me very best mate. How could yer say those things about me?’ A sob came to her
voice. ‘If yer’d stuck a knife in me heart, yer couldn’t have hurt me more.’

‘Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear! Who are we today? Is it Ethel Barrymore, or is it Bette Davis?’ Hetty gave a deep sigh. ‘Ethel Barrymore, I think, ’cos that’s the sort of thing she would say.’

Ada’s face broke into a wide smile. ‘Got yer there, sunshine. It was Vivien Leigh in that picture with erm . . . erm . . . oh, what’s his name? You know, sunshine, the one what yer said yer’d leave home for?’

‘I think I know who yer mean,’ Annie said. ‘Is it Stewart Granger?’

Ada banged the table with her hand. ‘That’s the one, sunshine, Stewart Granger. Hetty’s got a real crush on him. The only man she’d leave home for. Those were her very words.’

‘You lying hound!’ Hetty was really on her high horse now. ‘I never said no such thing, Ada Fenwick. All I said was that he was really handsome, and a good actor into the bargain. But you have to add your twopennyworth, don’t yer?’

‘I’ll tell yer what,’ Ada said, loving every minute. ‘We’ll let Annie say who she thinks is telling the truth.’

‘Don’t be bringing me into it,’ Annie said, waving her hands. ‘I’m not getting involved in any argument.’

‘No, I don’t blame yer, Annie,’ Hetty said. ‘It’s not fair to ask yer, ’cos yer don’t know us very well. Yer’ve only just become a member of our gang.’

Annie was delighted, but she tried not to let it show. She was being treated like a real friend now, and it would be wonderful if she really did become one of their gang. She could have a little private life of her own. Something precious her husband couldn’t take away from her. With a daughter and son she loved the bones of, and two close friends to fill her days with warmth and
laughter, she’d be the happiest woman on earth. ‘I’ll put the kettle on and make a fresh pot of tea, eh? It’s only a quarter to three, we’ve got an hour and a quarter to go before we need to start on the dinners.’

‘Good idea, sunshine,’ Ada said. ‘The best yer’ve had all day. And the day is still young yet. Just think, by six o’clock yer could have thought of an idea that’ll make yer rich. Yer could invent something that no one else has thought of, and make a fortune.’

‘Such as?’ Hetty asked.

‘How the hell do I know! If I did know, I’d invent the bloody thing meself, wouldn’t I, soft girl?’

‘Well, what d’yer mean by invention?’ Hetty was like a dog with a bone now. ‘What could Annie invent, like? Give us some idea.’

Ada’s eyes rolled to the ceiling. ‘Well, I can’t think of anything offhand. But I do know she couldn’t invent electricity, could she, ’cos someone beat her to it. Or the wireless or telephone, ’cos they’ve been invented already as well.’

‘Oh, I see what yer mean, girl,’ Hetty said, her brow furrowed. ‘Can’t yer think of something that hasn’t been invented yet?’

Ada tutted as she slowly shook her head. Then she shouted through to the kitchen, ‘I’m flogging a dead horse here, Annie. So will yer hurry up with that tea before I strangle me best mate.’

Annie was chuckling as she lit the gas under the kettle. It had certainly been her lucky day when she met these two.

The pub landlord, Jim Duncan, was pulling a pint of draught beer when across the smoke-filled room his eyes lit on Tom Phillips. The man was becoming a pain in the backside. Jim was regretting now that he’d let him in the side door at half
ten, because there’d be trouble with the police if they found out he was serving out of hours. Tom had told him it was only for a sly pint, as he was on his way home to go to the doctor’s. He told some cock and bull story about having his fingers caught in the door, but the landlord had the feeling he was pulling a fast one. But because he was a regular, and spent a lot of money in the pub, Jim pretended he believed him and even showed sympathy. That was at half ten, and at twelve o’clock, when the pub opened, the man had come through from the back room to the bar, and had plonked himself down at one of the tables. He’d had four pints up to now, and his tongue was becoming loose. He was making a nuisance of himself, and Jim decided enough was enough.

The landlord placed the pint glass of bitter in front of the customer. ‘There yer are, Dick, look at the head on that.’ He took the man’s money and put it in the till. Then he heard the voice of Tom Phillips, arguing loudly with a bloke sitting near him. Time to intervene, Jim told himself, before it comes to blows.

‘I thought yer’d got off work to go to the doctor’s?’ Jim picked up three empty pint glasses from the small round table. ‘It’s about time yer got moving, isn’t it? Although yer don’t seem to be having much trouble with yer fingers now.’

Tom looked at him through narrowed eyes, a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. ‘Me fingers are giving me gyp, mate, I’m in bleeding agony. But I’m not a cissy, like some blokes. I don’t cry me eyes out like a baby.’

‘I still think yer should head home, Tom,’ the landlord said. ‘When yer get into bed, and the beer wears off, that’s when yer’ll feel the pain. And then yer’ll be too late for the doctor’s. Take my advice and make yer way home.’

His eyes screwed up against the cigarette smoke wafting upwards, Tom hiccuped a few times, then asked, ‘What’s the bleeding time, mate?’

‘Two o’clock, nearly. I’ll be calling last orders any minute.’

Tom shook his head to try to clear the haze. He’d had four pints, which wasn’t many for him, but he’d drunk them on an empty stomach, and it was having an effect. But his reason for going home was becoming clear to him now, and he pushed himself to his feet. He was leaning towards Jim’s face when he belched, and the smell, and the lack of manners, was the last straw for the landlord. He put the glasses back on the table, and taking a tight grip on Tom’s arm he pulled him to his feet and steered him towards the door. ‘On yer way, pal, and good luck with the doctor.’

‘Oh, I’ll be going home before I go to the bleeding doctor’s. I’ll be paying me wife a call.’ Tom hiccuped loudly three times in quick succession, but didn’t think to apologise. ‘She’ll do me more good than any bleeding medicine. As much as I want, and all for nothing.’

Jim shook his head in disgust and pulled his hand away. This left Tom without support, and he fell back against the tiled wall of the pub. The fresh air, combined with the drink, had him swaying as he staggered away. ‘I’ll get me bleeding bellyful when I get home. Then I’ll go to bed for a couple of hours, so I’m fit for me pint tonight.’ He turned back, to add, ‘She’ll be glad to see me will the missus. Always ready to oblige.’

‘I hope ye’re fit to make it to the tram stop.’ Jim was fast losing patience. ‘This is a busy road, yer need to have yer senses about yer if yer don’t want to get knocked down.’

‘I’ll be all right, mate, I can take me ale.’

‘Okay, if you say so.’ The landlord walked back through the
pub doors, saying under his breath, ‘Good riddance to bad rubbish.’

Unsteady as he was, Tom Phillips had enough wits about him to lean back against the wall. He breathed in the fresh air, and stayed there until his head felt clear enough to move. Then he made for the tram stop, a sinister smile on his face. He couldn’t wait to see his wife’s face when he walked in. She’d be on her own, with no kids to come to her aid.

When a tram came trundling along, he pulled himself on board and made for a seat by a window. He’d be home in twenty minutes, and then the fun would begin.

‘Fares please.’ The conductor came down the aisle clicking his ticket machine, and he stopped by Tom’s seat. ‘Fares, please.’

Tom handed over two coppers. ‘Tuppenny single.’ He took the ticket, put it in his overall pocket, then went back to thoughts of his wife. He could feel himself becoming excited, for the power he had over her made him feel like someone special. He was a docker at work, like all the other men. But in his bedroom, he reigned supreme. He was well aware that he wasn’t popular with the blokes he worked with, they made that quite clear. But he didn’t care, in fact he felt sorry for them. He often heard them talking about what good wives they had, and he felt like laughing in their faces. If they only knew.

Annie heard the sound of the latch clicking on the entry door, and a frown creased her forehead. It was far too early for any of the family to be coming home, unless there was something wrong. She pressed her face close to the kitchen window, and suddenly felt as though all her breath was leaving her body. For she could see her husband closing the door after himself, then turning to walk up the yard. For a few seconds her mind clouded
over, then she dashed into the living room. ‘I’m going to have to ask yer to leave. I’m sorry, but me husband’s come in the back way, and he doesn’t like visitors.’

Hetty, as naive as ever, smiled. ‘Oh, we may as well stay and make his acquaintance.’

But Ada was quick to see the panic in Annie’s eyes. ‘It’s too late, sunshine, he’s just opened the kitchen door. We’d never make it out in time.’

The scene that met Tom Phillips’s eyes was like a tableau. Two women sitting and one standing, all like statues. No movement, not even a blink.

‘What the bleeding hell is going on here?’ Tom took in the empty plates and the cups. ‘Having a bloody party, are yer?’ He jerked his thumb towards the front door. ‘Two bleeding gasbags, with nothing else to do all day but sit on their fat backsides.’ The smell of beer filled the room as he leaned over the table. ‘Sod off, the pair of yer.’

Annie’s face drained of colour as she wrung her hands. ‘Tom, these are two of our neighbours from opposite.’ She felt so ashamed, having to make excuses to a man who was the worse for drink. ‘They’ve only been here a few minutes.’

Hetty was feeling very uncomfortable now. She wasn’t used to bad language, or drunken men. She made a move to get off the chair, but saw Ada make a sign for her to stay where she was.

‘Are yer both bleeding deaf, or what? I told the pair of yer to get off yer backsides.’ Tom’s rage was frightening. ‘It’s my house, and I’m telling yer to bugger off.’

As quick as the click of someone’s fingers, the fog in Annie’s mind cleared and she saw the scene for what it was. This had been a happy room until her husband had filled it with the smell of beer and bad language. And he was making a show of her in
front of the only friends she had. Belittling her, and taking away her pride and dignity. She couldn’t take it any more. Even if he took his belt to her and beat her to pulp. ‘This is my home as well as yours, Tom Phillips, and these are friends of mine. They will stay until they are ready to leave.’

Ada hadn’t spoken a word so far. She wanted to make sure her instinct was right before saying anything or walking out. So she sat still, her eyes going from husband to wife, then back again.

Tom Phillips was beside himself with rage. This wasn’t what he’d imagined himself coming home to. ‘Don’t you dare answer me back, yer stupid cow. If yer know what’s good for yer, yer’ll get them out of here now, before I belt yer one.’ He raised a curled fist to Annie’s face. ‘Do as I tell yer, unless yer want a taste of this.’

When Ada saw Annie cower in fear, she could no longer stay quiet. She pushed her chair back and got to her feet. Passing behind Hetty’s chair, she stood in front of the man whose nostrils were flared, and whose eyes were wild with rage. ‘I have never interfered between husband and wife before, because I’ve never had cause to. But I’ll not stand by and see any woman, friend or stranger, beaten by a drunken bully.’

Tom roared like a lion, and lifted his fist. ‘If yer don’t want a taste of this, then get to hell out of my bleeding house, yer fat cow.’

Hetty gasped. Ooh, she said in her mind, my mate isn’t going to like being called a fat cow. Why didn’t they leave when Annie asked them to? If it was up to her, they’d get out now, while the going was good. Before the situation got any worse. But it wasn’t up to her, and she wasn’t leaving without her mate.

Ada’s face was inches away from Tom Phillips’s, and she
found the smell sickening. ‘I will willingly leave your house. In fact, I’ll be delighted to leave your house. I wish I was anywhere but in yer ruddy house. And it pains me to say I’d like to leave this house, because I’ve been coming in here for twenty years now. I’ve always been happy and welcome here, because the person who lived here before was a lovely lady. Yer wouldn’t hear bad language in here then, or have to put up with the stink of beer. However, I will only leave if I’m sure in me mind that Annie won’t come to any harm after me and me mate have gone.’

Annie touched her arm. ‘Don’t get yerself upset over him, Ada, he’s not worth it. He’s fond of using his fists. In his tiny mind, he thinks hitting women and children makes him more of a man.’

‘Tell me the truth, Annie,’ Ada said. ‘Are yer certain that he won’t belt yer as soon as me and Hetty are out of the house?’

Annie lowered her eyes. ‘I’m fed up with telling lies about my husband, but I’ll not lie to yer now. The man I married, God help me, has always been a down and out rotter. And I’m ashamed to say I’ve never had the strength to stand up to him.’ She turned to stare at Tom’s face, which was distorted with rage, then looked back at Ada. ‘At least I’d never stood up to him until last night. I’ve never ever told anyone that he beats me, not even the children. Or that he gets such a kick out of it that he’s laughing as he’s beating me. But last night, with the help of the children, I turned the tables on him. I actually hit him on the hand with the rolling pin. And he’ll want his revenge. I’d bet every penny I’ve got in me purse that revenge is the reason he’s taken time off work. He knew he’d find me on me own in the house. As soon as you and Hetty leave, he’ll take off his leather belt and pay me back in his usual way.’