The Harbour Girl (14 page)

‘You can go ’n’ jump up,’ she retaliated. ‘I’m going to have a cup o’ tea. Fetch it yoursen – or send your wife,’ she added.

‘Nay, she can’t go. They don’t know her.’

‘Well, I’m not going. Anyway, you said you’d no money.’

‘I’ll put it on ’slate.’ He yawned, and turned to Connie. ‘You’ll go, won’t you, Con?’

Connie’s mouth opened as she pondered. She looked at Rosie, who turned her head away, then at Jeannie, who was concentrating on pouring the tea, and lastly at Billy, who just grinned and asked her to make it a large jug.

Connie slipped her wet shawl round her shoulders and, glancing at Harry with her limpid brown eyes, went out again, through the scullery into the yard, which Jeannie surmised was the everyday exit and entrance.

‘What about Connie’s tea?’ Jeannie asked. ‘Will she be long? Shall I pour it?’

No one answered her, so she poured it anyway, draining the teapot and then half filling it with more hot water.

A little later some of the neighbours called round, all of them using the back door which they accessed from the terrace by a narrow passageway, and all agreeing to ‘tek a drop’ from the jug of ale which Connie had brought back, to drink the health of the newly-weds. None of them were offered tea, which was just as well, Jeannie thought, for there was barely enough to make another pot. She resolved that the first thing she would do on Monday would be to go out and buy more, and keep it hidden just for her and Nan.

As the evening wore on, Rosie and Connie left, and Nan told Billy it was time he was making a move.

‘
He’ll
not be going anywhere tonight,’ she said, indicating Harry, who was snoring in the easy chair. ‘He’s had his fill, so you might as well hop it.’

‘Aye, all right then,’ Billy said compliantly, and Jeannie was astonished how everyone seemed to do Nan’s bidding, no matter how she spoke to them.

After Billy had left, Nan cleared away the crockery and the tankards from the table and took them into the scullery, then came back for the kettle of hot water.

‘Shall – shall I make up the bed, Mrs Carr?’ Jeannie said diffidently, wondering what had happened to her bag of belongings. Her mother had given it to Billy, who had said he would run back to the house with it before joining them at the wedding breakfast.

‘It’s done,’ Nan said. ‘And your things are up there as well. I took ’em up. You needn’t think anybody else has had their hands on ’em.’

‘Thank you,’ Jeannie said. ‘I’ll go up and unpack.’ She gave a nervous laugh. ‘It’ll not take a minute. I hadn’t a lot to bring.’

‘Nobody has,’ Nan muttered. ‘Not folks like us, though I thought at first you might be a cut above.’ She looked directly at her. ‘But I see now that you’re not. You’re just ’same even though you’re a Scarborough girl. We’ll talk in ’morning about how we’ll manage.’ She paused for a minute. ‘You can call me Nan.’

Later, in the narrow bed, Jeannie shuffled for space beside Harry, who not only took up most of it but tried to lie on top of her.

‘No,’ she whispered, conscious of his grandmother in the next room. ‘You’ll hurt the bairn.’

‘You’ll have to come on top then,’ he grumbled, and she could smell his beery breath. ‘You’re my wife. I want what’s mine.’

‘I’m not objecting,’ she said. ‘It’s just uncomfortable.’ She hadn’t realized that it would be like this; she had assumed that they would kiss and cuddle up for their first night, and just be happy that they were wed. After that … well, in truth she hadn’t thought any further than that, nor guessed that they would have to share this narrow bed.

Harry had one foot on the floor, but she couldn’t lie on top of him either for she kept rolling off and after a few frustrating minutes he turned over and urged her to move up because he was dead beat, and going to sleep. Jeannie realized that he had had far too much to drink to attempt any lovemaking, and that he didn’t want to kiss her or hold her tight, but only to sleep. With her nose pressed up against the wall and Harry’s arm across her neck and his snores in her ear, her paramount emotion was disappointment, coupled with the sensation that she had just made the most enormous mistake.

She shoved his arm away from her and crawled over the top of him and he was too far gone to even notice. She threw the thin blanket over him, pulled her shift over her knees and padded across the cold floor out of the bedroom and into Nan’s room. The old lady was fast asleep on one side of the bed, both hands under her cheek and a gentle
phut phut
quivering from her parted lips. Jeannie shivered; then, hesitating no more, she carefully turned back the covers and climbed in beside her.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

NAN WAS UP first the next morning and made no comment on Jeannie’s presence in her bed. As soon as she had gone down the narrow stairs, Harry came through the door from the other bedroom.

‘What you doin’ in here?’ he said in a loud whisper. ‘I thought I was onny dreaming that we’d wed.’ He climbed in beside her and drew her close.

‘The bed was too narrow,’ she whispered back, putting her arm round him. ‘We’ll have to get a bigger bed.’

‘No money for that.’ He rolled on top of her and covered her mouth with his hand as she began to warn him again about the child within her. ‘It’ll be all right,’ he muttered. ‘Come on, Jeannie, mek some effort. We’re married now.’

But she didn’t need to make an effort. Although she wanted him too, he was in too much of a hurry to be gentle and tender or considerate; he gasped and rolled over on to his back without giving her as much as a kiss or a loving squeeze, and as she looked at him with his mouth open and his eyes closed she felt bruised and sore, frustrated and disillusioned.

She dressed in the small bedroom and went downstairs, leaving Harry still in Nan’s bed. She found Nan in the scullery.

‘I need to wash,’ she said hesitantly. ‘Can I – is it all right to …’

Nan pointed to a tin bowl. ‘If you fill that you can tek it upstairs. There’s some hot water in ’kettle, but fill it again before you go up and you can mek ’tea when you come down.’

‘Yes,’ Jeannie murmured, and wondered how long it would take her to get into the new routine. The kettle was in the kitchen, the tap in the scullery, but, she thought as she refilled the kettle, this was comparative luxury. At home they didn’t have an inside tap, only the pump over the sink which they sometimes had to prime and which froze if it was a very cold winter.

She went back upstairs to find Harry fast asleep. She had a warm wash and dried herself on the towel she had brought with her, dressed again and brushed her hair, made the small bed, and went downstairs with the bowl of water.

Nan looked up at her. ‘Keep yourself clean, don’t you?’ she said.

Jeannie gazed at her in astonishment. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Always.’

‘Good,’ was the terse answer. ‘I can’t be doin’ wi’ slovenliness. Cleanliness is next to godliness. Were you taught that?’

‘Erm, yes, something like that,’ Jeannie said, as she made the tea. ‘Ma always kept us as clean as she could. My brother Tom never liked getting washed when he was little.’ She smiled. ‘His toes were always full of sand.’

Nan nodded. ‘He looks like a fine lad. Works hard, does he?’

Jeannie was pleased to hear Tom praised. ‘Yes, he does. He’s doing a boat-building apprenticeship. He decided against being a fisherman like our father was. He was always sick when he went to sea.’

‘And what about you?’ Nan asked soberly, adding, ‘You can pour ’tea. No use waiting for Harry; he won’t be up till dinner.’

‘Until dinner time!’ Jeannie was astounded. Her mother would never have allowed that.

‘Aye.’ Nan sat down at the table and waited for Jeannie to pour. ‘And what about you?’ she asked again. ‘What do you do?’

‘I mend nets,’ she said. ‘Same as my ma. She’s Scottish, used to be a herring girl. I can gut and pack herring as well – I’ve done it every season since I was fourteen. Ma and my grandmother showed me how.’

Jeannie didn’t know if it was her imagination or whether she saw a visible sign of relief on Nan’s face.

‘I’ll be able to do it here until my time,’ she said. ‘And then, well, I was thinking that if Harry could fix up a frame outside, I could work on the nets here and look after the bairn.’

Nan nibbled on her fingers, and then took a sip of tea. ‘Not Harry,’ she said. ‘He’d never manage that, but Billy Norman could. He’s a ship’s carpenter. It’ll be no trouble to him.’ She heaved a sigh and took another drink. ‘I’ll ask him when I see him. Good,’ she murmured. ‘Mebbe things won’t be so bad after all.’

‘I hope not,’ Jeannie said. ‘I’ll pull my weight. I shan’t expect you to keep me. Is there much work for women? On the nets, I mean.’

‘For them as are good, yes,’ Nan said, adding, ‘You can work wi’ me. That’ll be for ’best, then ’other women will know you belong. Everybody knows everybody else on Hessle Road. Fisher folk are like one big family.’

Jeannie nodded. ‘Just like at Scarborough then. And Harry,’ she said hesitantly, not wanting to be disloyal, but wanting the truth. ‘Has he got work?’

Nan pursed her mouth. ‘Not at ’minute, he hasn’t. But he’ll have to find some, especially wi’ a bairn coming.’

‘Yes,’ Jeannie murmured. ‘It’ll be an incentive, won’t it?’

Nan glanced at her. ‘Let’s hope so.’

It was Sunday and Nan put on her grey bonnet and the same black skirt and coat as she wore for the wedding, and went off to chapel. She asked Jeannie if she’d like to go with her, but she said she’d wait for Harry to get up and maybe they’d take a walk. It was a bright sunny day and she felt that she’d like to have some fresh air and have a look round the area which was now her home.

But at almost midday he was still in bed, so she climbed the stairs and went to waken him. He woke with a start and for a second he looked at her as if he didn’t know her. Then he reached out and grabbed her, pulling her into bed with him. She didn’t object, for he looked tousled and endearing, and he smothered her with kisses and lifted her skirt just as she heard the scullery door open.

‘Nan’s back,’ she said in an urgent whisper. ‘She’ll be coming up to get changed.’

‘Still got time,’ he grunted. ‘Come on, be quick.’

And so once more she felt downhearted and dissatisfied and as she smoothed down her clothes and turned away she asked him, ‘Why did you marry me, Harry?’

He gave a grin and stretched. ‘Why d’ya think? It’s great bein’ married.’

She hesitated and looked down at him as she heard Nan’s feet on the stairs. He doesn’t love me as I love him, she thought. He was charming and persistent and I was willing. Would we be married now if I’d refused him back in March? Somehow she doubted it. I’ll make him love me, she thought. He must. Maybe once the baby is born things will be different.

She gave a little shrug at Nan as she came up on to the top step. ‘He’s a slug-a-bed,’ she told her. ‘I think we’re going to have to tip him out.’

‘Aye, I reckon so. Get a bowl o’ cold water. That’ll fetch him out.’

Harry yelled and sprang out of bed, his nightshirt flapping, and dashed into the other bedroom, and for the first time Jeannie saw an indulgent half-smile on Nan’s face.

Before she had left for chapel Nan had put mutton chops and onions in the side oven, and when she opened the oven door to check on them the aroma filled the house. She asked Jeannie to scrub some potatoes and carrots whilst she beat up a bowl of batter for Yorkshire pudding, and in under an hour they were sitting down to eat.

‘Go down ’dockside and show your wife ’fishing fleet,’ Nan told Harry. ‘And look for Billy Norman. We want a frame putting up in ’yard.’

Harry took a mouthful of food and chewed before asking, ‘What sort o’ frame?’

‘For hanging nets on, o’ course, what do you think?’ Nan glared at him. ‘Somebody’s got to work to pay ’rent.’

‘Yeh, righto,’ he said, quite unperturbed by the jibe intended for him. ‘He’ll be sailing tomorrow, though. Mightn’t be able to do it straight away.’

‘Ask him,’ she said tersely. ‘Don’t forget. Go and ask his ma where he is, and if he’s in ’pub then turf him out.’

Jeannie glanced at her. She looked very fierce, but Harry seemed not in the least concerned. Was she all shout and yet as soft as butter with Harry?

She put on her shawl when they left the house, as much to hide her pregnancy as because she was cold. Harry put his arm round her waist and kissed her cheek once they were out of the terrace and she smiled at him. Maybe things were going to be all right.

They went to another terrace and down a side passage where Harry lifted the sneck of a yard gate and then knocked on a scullery door. A small woman with grey hair under a bonnet answered.

‘Is Billy in, Mrs Norman?’ Harry asked politely. ‘I need to ask him summat.’

‘That’s a daft question; course he’s not. He’s sailing tomorrow, isn’t he?’

Harry nodded. ‘Where is he? ’Criterion? ’Wassand Arms?’

‘How would I know? Try ’Wassand, that’s his usual.’ She looked hard at Harry. ‘Got any work yet?’

‘Not yet,’ he said, and then added confidently, ‘Got a few contacts though. Lookin’ good.’

She twisted her mouth wryly. ‘Oh aye. This your new missis?’