The Girl From Number 22 (8 page)

BOOK: The Girl From Number 22
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‘It was your good deed for the day,’ Hetty said, her head nodding slowly. ‘Wasn’t it, queen? You saved the day.’

‘I don’t know about being a good deed,’ Ronnie said. ‘I think it was a very stupid thing to do. Yer could have been killed.’

‘It wasn’t as stupid as you falling for it, sunshine.’ Ada bent double with laughter. ‘If only yer could have seen yer face, Ronnie. It was a picture.’

Ronnie pursed his lips for a few seconds, his mind working overtime. ‘The look on my face won’t be a patch on yours when I tell yer we’ve got no Cumberland sausage in.’

The two women looked stunned. ‘How did yer know we wanted Cumberland sausage?’

‘We heard yer talking on the way in, and I said to Barry, they’re going to be disappointed.’

But Ada had detected a smirk on the young assistant’s face. ‘Oh, well, in that case we’ll have to walk along to the Co-op. It’s not far; the walk will do us good.’

The butcher grinned. ‘Tit for tat, Ada. You pulled my leg, I pull yours. So, was it a pound of Cumberland for both of yer?’

‘Ye’re a cheeky bugger, Ronnie Atwill,’ Ada said. ‘But because Hetty’s got corns what are giving her gyp, we’ll take the sausage off yer to save her the walk.’

Now Hetty had never had a corn in her life, but she didn’t relish another kick on the shin, so she smiled. ‘Suits me, Ada, and it’s very thoughtful of yer to remember me corns.’

Chapter Four

Ada was wiping her wet hands down her pinny when she came through from the kitchen after washing the breakfast dishes. She’d put a light under the kettle, promising herself a quiet half-hour with a cup of tea. Then she let out a sigh when her eyes caught sight of a few finger marks on the front window. That would be young Paul’s fault, knocking to tell his mate to wait for him and they’d walk to school together. She was forever telling him off about it, but it was like talking to the wall. When he got home today, though, she’d give him a right telling off, for now the windows wanted cleaning. And although she wasn’t in the mood, she knew she’d only worry herself silly for the rest of the day if she didn’t give the panes a good going over with the shammy leather. She’d always prided herself on having the cleanest windows in the street, and the whitest front step, and she wasn’t going to lower her standards, even if it did mean her cup of tea would have to wait.

The water was hot in the kettle, so Ada poured it into the washing-up bowl with some cold water from the tap. Then she added a large tablespoonful of vinegar before throwing in the shammy leather. The vinegar had been a tip from her mother when she was only about ten years old. She could see her mother’s face now, as she told her that the secret of sparkling
windows was adding a drop of vinegar to the water, and having a good shammy leather. It was a tip Ada had never forgotten.

In front of the window was a small round wooden table, upon which stood a very healthy aspidistra plant that was Ada’s pride and joy. And as she lifted it from its spot, she said, ‘I’m sorry to disturb yer, sunshine, but if I don’t clean the windows I’ll be the talk of every wash-house from here to the Pier Head.’ The plant was placed on the table, while a chair was taken out and carried to the window. The draw curtains were pulled back and the nets taken down, before Ada wrung the water out of the shammy leather and climbed on to the wooden seat of the dining chair. She didn’t feel very safe on the chair which was old and rickety, so while her right hand went to work on the top two panes of glass, her left hand clung to the wall. And she let out a sigh of relief when the top panes were clean enough to pass her inspection, and she was able to climb down from the chair. ‘One of these days I’ll have enough money to buy a pair of steps like Hetty’s got,’ she told the aspidistra as she put the chair back under the table. ‘They’re not half handy. And a damn sight safer than a ruddy chair.’ Then she patted the rail at the top of the chair. ‘I shouldn’t moan about yer, God knows. I’ve had yer since I got married, and yer were second-hand then!’

After rinsing the shammy leather and wringing it out, Ada walked back with the intention of cleaning the bottom windows. But her attention was caught by the sight of two neighbours opposite, Jean Bowers and Edith Benson, who lived on the other side of Eliza Porter. They were deep in conversation, their faces serious as their heads kept nodding. There was no reason why the two women shouldn’t be talking to each other, for they were good friends. But the smiles that were usually on their faces weren’t there, and that was what made
Ada wonder if anything was wrong with the old lady. And, she told herself, the only way to find out was to ask. So the shammy went back in the water and Ada took her pinny off, threw it over the back of a chair and made for the front door.

‘If I’m pushing me nose in where it’s not wanted, ladies, then just tell me to take a running jump. But from yer faces, I got the impression yer weren’t telling each other jokes. So I’m here to ask if there’s anything wrong?’

‘We were discussing Eliza,’ Jean said. ‘We both think she’s gone down the nick since that incident with her ankle. Oh, she’s not complaining, Ada, but we feel she’s changed, don’t we, Edith?’

‘She’s not steady on her feet, although if yer ask her, she says she’s fine.’ Edith had been Eliza’s neighbour for twenty years, and she was really fond of the old lady. ‘Another thing, she’s not eating very well. I take her dinner in to her, and when I go back she says it was lovely, and her plate is empty. I haven’t told her I know, but I happened to look out of the back window when I was upstairs yesterday, and I saw her emptying her plate in the bin.’

Jean moved a few feet away and beckoned them to follow. ‘One thing she does have is good hearing. I’d hate her to know we were talking about her.’

‘I’ve asked yer before to let me and Hetty share the responsibility of looking after her, but yer’ve always insisted yer can manage. It’s too much for both of yer, though, with yer own families to look after. So let me and Hetty take a turn to give yer a break. Eliza won’t think anything, ’cos we often call in. We’ll give her a knock on our way to the shops and see what we think of her. She won’t know you’ve been talking to me, and we’ll just pretend it’s a friendly call. Perhaps she’s just feeling under the weather, or hasn’t got over the shock of spraining her ankle. It
takes a long time for anyone as old as Eliza to get over a shock. If it’s not that, and she really is failing, then perhaps yer should tell her son.’

Edith nodded. ‘We were talking about that before yer came over. But we’ll see what you and Hetty think before doing anything. It’s no good worrying him unless it’s really necessary.’

‘That’s true, just leave it for now,’ Ada agreed. ‘I’ll have to finish cleaning me windows, then I’ll give Hetty a shout over the yard wall. It’ll be about half an hour before we get to Eliza’s. If we are concerned about her, I’ll call and let yer know. If yer don’t hear from us, yer’ll know we both agree that there’s nothing to be concerned about. Is that all right with you two?’

Jean smiled. ‘I feel a bit better already. Yer see, both me and Edith are inclined to imagine trouble. My Gordon says I go looking for it. So I’m glad you and Hetty are going to see the old lady. I think yer’ve both got more sense than us.’

Ada chuckled. ‘If my feller heard yer saying that, he’d laugh his head off. He thinks I was at the back of the queue when they were giving brains out.’

It was Edith’s turn to chuckle. ‘At least yer were in the queue, even if yer were at the back. Me, now, I didn’t even know there was a queue.’

Ada stepped from the pavement on to the cobbles. ‘We can’t all have brains and beauty, sunshine, so thank God for small mercies.’ She began to cross the street. ‘Me and me mate will give yer a knock on our way back from the shops. But if we don’t, that means we don’t see any need for it. Ta-ra for now.’

‘I knew it was too good to be true,’ Hetty said with feeling. ‘I did tell yer that it would take a while for the old dear to get over the shock, didn’t I?’

‘All right, sunshine, keep yer ruddy hair on!’ Ada couldn’t help laughing at the expression on her friend’s face. ‘Yer looking at me as if I had disagreed with yer diagnosis.’

Hetty’s face went blank. ‘What are yer talking about? Where did yer get the word diagnosis from, and what does it mean?’

‘I don’t know what it means. I heard a doctor saying it while I was in the hospital for an examination when I was pregnant with our Paul. The doctor wasn’t talking to me, like, he was talking to another doctor. I took it to mean it was his opinion.’

‘When yer were expecting your Paul!’ Hetty’s voice came out in a squeak. ‘That’s over ten years ago! How could yer remember a word like that for ten years, and still not know what it means?’

‘What good would it have done me, in those ten years, to know what it means? Just how often would I be able to throw it into a conversation without people thinking I was bonkers?’

‘It would have satisfied yer curiosity.’

‘But I’ve never been curious! I had other things on me mind at the time, being eight months pregnant and as big as a ruddy house. The last thing on me mind was a lesson in English.’ Ada was having a good laugh inside, but she managed to keep her face deadpan. ‘And d’yer know what, Hetty, I’m sorry I brought the word up now, ’cos it’s been a waste of time. Neither of us are any the wiser, and I’m fast losing the will to live.’

‘Don’t be so ruddy dramatic, girl, ’cos yer’d never make an Ethel Barrymore.’ Hetty decided to get her own back. ‘Ye’re too big in the bust for it, and yer voice is too common.’

‘Oh, well, we can’t all have everything we want in life, sunshine. At least I’m not as unlucky as you.’

‘What d’yer mean? Why d’yer think I’m more unlucky than you?’

‘Well, for starters, I haven’t got a mate what is fat, and as common as muck.’

Hetty leaned her elbows on the sideboard while she eyed her friend from head to toe. ‘I see yer point, girl, but I could have done worse. Ivy Thompson is twice the size of you, and she’s so common I can’t understand a word she says.’

‘If yer shut up and listen to what I was going to tell yer fifteen minutes ago, then I promise I won’t tell Ivy what yer said about her. And that’ll be doing yer a big favour ’cos yer know how handy Ivy is with her fists.’

Hetty pulled a face. ‘That, Ada Fenwick, sounds very much like blackmail to me.’

‘Never mind it sounds like blackmail, it is ruddy blackmail!’ Ada clicked her tongue. ‘I’ll get this out if it kills me! I promised Jean and Edith that we’d call in to see Eliza before we go to the shops, to see what we think of her state of health. And seeing as we’ll have to spend some time with her, not just run in and out, like, then we’d better get our skates on if we want to catch the shops before they close at one o’clock for their dinner.’

‘In case yer haven’t noticed, girl, I came all ready to go out,’ Hetty said. ‘It’s you that’s keeping us back, not me.’

Ada lifted her coat from one of the hooks behind the door. And keeping her back to Hetty, she slipped her arms into the sleeves while saying, ‘Oh, and I offered to help Jean and Edith with taking turns with the old lady. Yer didn’t mind me offering your services, did yer?’ Without waiting for a reply, Ada went on, ‘No, I didn’t think yer’d object.’

‘It would have been polite to have asked me first, girl. Yer know I wouldn’t object to helping Eliza, I’ll be happy to. But it would have been nice to be asked.’

‘So, sunshine, yer’ll be happy to help, will yer?’

‘More than happy, girl.’

‘Then can we stop wasting words and get on with it.’ Ada waved her neighbour towards the front door. ‘And not a word to Eliza about what I’ve told yer. Let her think it’s just a friendly call to see how she is.’

Hetty was on the pavement when she looked up and said, ‘I’m not thick, Ada.’

Ada banged the door behind her, made sure it was properly closed, then faced her mate. ‘Let’s see now. Er, how can I put it? Sometimes ye’re not very quick off the mark, sunshine, but, er, no, I wouldn’t say yer were thick.’

Hetty narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. ‘If Mrs Grogan wasn’t on her knees scrubbing her front step, I’d clock you one, Ada Fenwick.’

‘If she’s still doing her step when we come out of Eliza’s, sunshine, yer could ask her for her opinion.’

The pair began to cross the cobbles. ‘What would I want to ask Mrs Grogan for her opinion on?’

‘Yer could ask her what, in her opinion, the word diagnosis means. Or whether she thinks ye’re thick or not. There’s loads yer could ask her to pass the time away.’

Hetty lifted the knocker on Eliza’s door. ‘I don’t know about me being thick, you’re as soft as a ruddy brush. In fact, come to think about it, whatever I am, you made me.’

The old lady’s eyes lit up when she saw her visitors. ‘What are you two laughing at now?’ She stood aside to let them pass. ‘Don’t yer ever have bad days, when yer don’t feel like laughing?’

Ada waited until they were sitting down before answering. ‘I’m going to be very truthful with yer, Eliza, even though what I’m going to say may shock yer. In fact, yer might throw us out and tell us never to darken yer door again.’ She paused,
straight-faced, to add a little drama. ‘Me and Hetty aren’t always laughing and joking, like people think. There are times when we’re just the opposite. Yer wouldn’t think so, but before we came out, we were throwing punches at each other, and our language was foul.’ Another pause for effect. ‘Hetty, who everyone thinks is a quiet, respectable woman who wouldn’t hurt a fly, well, she threw a cushion at me. But instead of hitting me, it hit the clock on the mantelpiece. The clock what had been left to me by me parents fell to the floor and was smashed to smithereens. I bet me poor mam and dad are turning in their graves right now, for that clock was their pride and joy.’

The old lady bit on her bottom lip to keep back the laughter that was bubbling up inside her. Laughter that wasn’t only brought about by Ada’s very unlikely tale, but also by Hetty’s face, which was a picture no artist could paint.

‘May God forgive you, Ada Fenwick,’ Hetty said when she found her voice. ‘I enjoy a joke with the best of them, but to bring yer dead parents into it, well, I don’t know how yer’ll sleep in bed tonight.’

BOOK: The Girl From Number 22
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