Try a Little Tenderness (37 page)

BOOK: Try a Little Tenderness
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Mary jerked her thumb towards the door. ‘I’ve made her wait outside. She’s just caused ructions in the butcher’s, and I couldn’t go through that again.’

‘Go ’way, I bet she had them in stitches.’ Billy grinned as he emptied the potatoes from the scale into a woman’s basket. ‘I gave yer good measure, Mrs Gillespie, seeing as it’s Christmas.’ He put the scale back on the big iron weighing machine that hung from the ceiling. ‘I’ll be with yer in two shakes of a lamb’s tail, love. I just want to show Mrs Nightingale where her order is.’

‘Finish serving her, Billy, I can wait.’

‘No, these two boxes are your orders, and I’ll be glad to get them from under me feet.’ He lifted a wooden box and placed it in Mary’s outstretched arms. ‘That’s Amy’s, and the bill’s inside. If yer take it out to her, I’ll follow with yours.’

Amy took one look at the box and shook her head. ‘I’ll never be able to carry that! Who d’yer think I am, Billy Nelson, King bleedin’ Kong?’

‘It’s what yer ordered, Amy, so don’t blame me.’

‘Put the turkey on top, Amy, and take the ruddy box off me,’ Mary said. ‘Billy’s got a shop full of people to see to.’

Amy held her arms out and pretended to buckle under the weight. ‘If I do meself an injury, Billy Nelson, my Ben will have something to say to yer.’

After passing Mary’s order over, Billy bent to smile into Amy’s face. ‘I’ve got yer where I want yer now, haven’t I? If I wasn’t so busy, I could do what I like to yer and yer wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it.’

‘No, lad, I wouldn’t. But whatever yer were doing, yer wouldn’t be enjoying it, ’cos I’d have dropped this box on yer bleedin’ foot and broke all yer toes.’

Roaring with laughter, Billy made his way through the shop doorway, calling over his shoulder, ‘Yer can pass the money in later, ladies.’

Amy looked down at herself with dismay. ‘Sod this for a lark, girl, all me well-endowments are getting squashed to blazes.’

Mary didn’t want to laugh, but laugh she did. Amy’s
mountainous bosom was a definite drawback to carrying a box in her outstretched arms. If she carried it high, her breasts would be squashed, if she lowered her arms and carried it low, her tummy would suffer the same fate. ‘D’yer know what I think, sunshine? Being so well-endowed isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, is it?’

‘Never mind all that now, girl, how am I going to get home? How am I going to carry all this, and me basket?’

‘Where is yer basket?’

‘Between me bleedin’ feet! I suppose I could ask someone to put it over me head, and let everyone have a good laugh at my expense. But somehow I don’t fancy that.’

‘Well, let’s not get excited. I’ve got my basket on me arm, so if I could pick yours up I could hang it on me other arm.’ Very gingerly, Mary bent her legs and lowered herself down. ‘Open yer legs, sunshine.’

‘Ah, not tonight, Ben, I’ve got a headache.’

Mary nearly lost her balance with laughing. No matter what the problem, Amy could always find a joke in it. ‘If you don’t stop making me laugh, Amy Hanley, I’m going to end up on me backside with me turkey and potatoes around me. Now, behave yerself, if yer know how.’

The main road wasn’t too bad for walking because the shopkeepers had cleared the snow away. But the side streets were very hazardous, and the friends walked with great care. They were just six houses away from their own homes when Amy said, ‘I’m dying to go to the lavvy, girl, I’ll have to move. It must be the cold weather.’

‘Amy, for heaven’s sake be careful or—’ Mary watched with horror as Amy’s foot slipped on the ice, and unable to use her arms to balance herself, she went flying. She fell on her back and all around her were scattered the contents of the box. Mary could see apples and oranges flying in all directions, but her concern was for the inert figure lying on the ground. ‘Oh, dear God, let her be all right.’

Throwing everything down, Mary ran towards her friend.
Never very good in an emergency, her heart was pounding in case Amy had really hurt herself and needed the kind of help she didn’t know how to give. Taking a deep breath, she looked down.

‘I don’t need to go to the lavvy now, girl, I’ve used the public toilet.’ Amy’s smile turned to a grimace as she tried to move. ‘I’ve certainly come a cropper, haven’t I?’

‘Don’t you try to move, Amy Hanley, it’s no joke.’

‘Oh, I know that, girl, no one better. But I thought yer might be worried about me wanting to spend a penny. So it’s one worry less for yer.’

‘I’m going to see if Molly’s in, ’cos I’m as much use as that ruddy turkey.’ With tears in her eyes, Mary crossed the snow-covered cobbles, praying that Molly would be home. And her prayers were answered when the Irishwoman opened the door.

Molly took one look at Mary’s face and her smile vanished. ‘What is it, me darlin’?’

‘It’s Amy, she’s fallen over and I don’t know what to do.’

Molly put the catch on the door so she wouldn’t lock herself out, and hurried after Mary. ‘Glory be to God, Amy, what have yer done to yerself?’

‘If yer’ll give Mary a hand to lift me up, girl, I’ll tell yer whether or not I’m still in one piece.’ There was much grunting and groaning from Amy as her friends lifted her to a sitting position and dusted the snow from her coat. ‘So far, so good, girls – at least there’s nowt broke. I’ll have a few bruises, but what’s a bruise between friends? It’s me backside that hurts most, and the bottom of me back. But don’t worry, I’ll live. Now, if yer can manage it, would yer lift me to me feet?’

It was obvious Amy was in pain when they tried to stand her upright. ‘Let me bend for a while, till it eases off.’

Molly nodded to the empty box. ‘Mary, me darlin’, would yer pick up all the groceries, please? If yer take them inside, sure that’ll be a big help, so it will. Amy will move in her
own good time, won’t yer, me darlin’?’

‘It’s me own stupid fault, I’m a crackpot. I started to run because I wanted to go to the lavvy, yer see. I don’t want to go to the lavvy now, like, but I did then.’

Mary, throwing fruit and vegetables into the box, winked at Molly. ‘The woman has no modesty whatsoever.’

Amy tried to stand upright to have her say, but the pain was so sharp she contented herself with raising her voice. ‘What the bleedin’ hell is the good of trying to be modest when yer’ve got an orange stuck in yer mouth and there’s a ruddy dead turkey lying on yer chest? To hell with modesty, girl, that’s what I say.’

When Amy insisted that all the shopping be taken into Mary’s house, Molly tried to reason with her. ‘But, me darlin’, wouldn’t it be better altogether if the shopping, and yerself, went straight into yer own house? Sure, wouldn’t it save yer the trouble of doing more walking than yer need to? Yer could settle yerself on the couch with a pile of pillows to try and ease the pain. It would make things a heck of a sight easier all round.’

It would have been the sensible thing to do, but then Amy never did anything because it was sensible. It took her all her time to mount the front steps, but grunting and groaning, and using every swearword she could think of, she finally made it. ‘I’d rather get me ease on Mary’s couch, it’s much more comfortable than mine. Besides, I can lie and look at her nice wallpaper instead of the miserable bleedin’ stuff I’ve got on my walls. It’s enough to give yer the willies.’

‘I’ve got to go out again for the rest of our shopping, sunshine, so it means yer being on yer own.’ Mary looked at the clock and groaned. There was so much to do and time was marching on. ‘Ye’re as stubborn as a mule, Amy Hanley; yer’ll have yer own way if it kills yer. So don’t go blaming me if yer find yer can’t walk at all and ye’re stuck on my couch all over Christmas.’

‘I’ll be walking, girl, don’t you worry yerself about that. If you think I’m going to let a few aches and pains stop me from coming to yer party, yer’ve got another think coming. I’ve spent weeks getting me party piece ready and I’m going to show off come hell or high water.’

Molly shrugged her shoulders at Mary. ‘You go and get yer shopping done, me darlin’, and I’ll stay with her. I’ll have a look at her bottom and back, make sure she hasn’t done herself any real harm.’

Amy, who was perched on the arm of the couch, looked at Molly as though she’d gone mad. ‘Listen here, Florence Nightingale, nobody has seen my backside since the midwife delivered me. Except for my Ben, of course, but then he’d paid seven and six for the marriage certificate, so he was entitled. But I ain’t pulling me knickers down for no one else.’ Her head and chins wagged. ‘The very idea, indeed!’

Molly’s body shook with laughter. ‘Well, me darlin’, I’ve got to admit I wasn’t looking forward to it meself, and that’s the truth of it. Not particularly because it’s your backside, which I’m sure is exactly the same as me own, but because it’s not the most attractive part of the body. But I’ll not be criticising the Good Lord for giving us one, ’cos if He hadn’t, sure, we’d have nothing to sit on.’

Imitating Molly’s Irish accent, Amy said, ‘Sure, it’s a foine way with words yer have, Mrs Moynihan, and that’s a fact. Wouldn’t I even go as far as to say that you and I are on a level when it comes to making interesting conversation?’

‘Then I’ll leave yer to get on with educating each other,’ Mary said, ‘while I go to the Maypole and pick up our orders. Then there’s only the bread to get in.’ She shook her head at Amy. ‘Yer certainly picked a fine time to take up skating, sunshine, I’ll say that for yer. Only the busiest day of the year.’

Amy’s face, which had drained of colour from the shock of the fall, was now showing traces of pink in her chubby cheeks. ‘Take no notice of her, Molly, she’s only jealous ’cos
we’re more cleverer than she is. Yer see, she doesn’t know her arse from her bleedin’ elbow.’

‘Considering ye’re supposed to be in agony, Amy Hanley, it certainly hasn’t affected yer mouth, has it? Now, when I come back from the shops I expect to see yer walking around this room. D’yer hear me?’

‘The whole bleedin’ street can hear yer, girl! Yer’ve got a mouth on yer like a fog-horn when yer start. But I’ll be walking, have no fear, ’cos we’re all going to Midnight Mass, aren’t we? I promised to go and I’ll keep me promise.’

Mary put her basket in the crook of her arm. ‘The church will probably fall down when you walk in. I’ve never known yer go to Midnight Mass before.’

‘Well, yer see, girl, it was our John who taught me the error of me ways. He said you and Stan were going with Jenny, and all the Moynihans. He said he was going with yer whether I came or not. So I couldn’t let me eldest born think his mother was a heathen, could I?’

Molly turned her face to hide a smile. John and Mick would go to any lengths to spend time with Jenny. Her son had even asked Seamus not to have too many pints because he didn’t want to be ashamed of his father smelling of drink in church. And would he kindly refrain from singing at the top of his voice.

‘I’ll be back in an hour,’ Mary said, putting her arm around Amy. ‘If it hurts yer to walk, sunshine, then don’t walk. Take no notice of me, I was only joking.’

‘It’s been a right day, I can tell yer. I certainly wouldn’t want another one like it.’ They were sitting around the table having their meal and Mary had gone over the day’s events. ‘Yer know what I’m like in an emergency, I’m about as much use as a wet fish. I always think the worst, and when Amy was lying so still, I thought she’d broken her neck.’

‘Won’t Auntie Amy be coming to church with us?’ Jenny asked. ‘I was looking forward to all of us going together.
Janet and her brother are coming round to walk there with us.’

‘I don’t know about Auntie Amy, sunshine, we’ll just have to wait and see. Me and Molly got her home between us, one holding each of her arms. She said she’s coming, and yer know what she’s like when she sets her mind to anything. She’ll probably get Uncle Ben to give her a piggyback.’

‘I know I shouldn’t laugh, love, ’cos it’s not funny,’ Stan said. ‘But I’ve got this picture in me head of all the potatoes and everything flying in the air and landing all over the place.’

‘Oh, when I got back from the shops we all had a laugh over it. And the one that laughed the loudest was Amy! Even though she was in pain, she thought it was hilarious. She said it was a pity no one had a camera because it would have made a good snap.’ Mary looked across the table to where Laura sat. Her eldest daughter hadn’t opened her mouth since they’d sat down. ‘Are you coming to church with us, Laura?’

‘No, I’m going down to Cynthia’s.’ Laura’s mind was on Gary. She wouldn’t see him for a week, and to her a week was an eternity. ‘If she’s going, I’ll go with her.’

‘Before yer go anywhere, yer can help Jenny to finish decorating the tree. I’ll wash up and then I’ve got the turkey to clean and the stuffing to make.’

Jenny collected the empty plates and carried them out to the kitchen. Looking through the window, she could see the snowflakes falling and a smile lit up her face. ‘Mam, it’s snowing heavy, we’re going to have a real white Christmas. Ooh, I’m made up.’

The smile on her face annoyed Laura. She herself had nothing to smile about, and she couldn’t bear to see anyone else happy. ‘I don’t know why ye’re getting so excited about snow. It’s horrible to walk in, sloshing through it, getting yer feet all wet. I can’t see anything nice about it
and I think you need yer head testing.’

Mary opened her mouth to say something, but Jenny got in before her. ‘It makes everywhere look pretty, but you wouldn’t see that, would yer, Laura? I’ve never yet heard yer say anything was nice. I feel sorry for yer really, but if you want to be miserable, that’s your affair. Just don’t expect everybody else to be miserable with yer.’ All the time she spoke, Jenny kept the smile on her face. ‘I’ll finish the tree on me own; you hurry out before the snow gets too thick and yer poor feet get wet.’

‘Right, that’s enough,’ Stan said. ‘This is supposed to be a happy time, so we’ll have no arguments in this house, if yer don’t mind.’

Only her father’s intervention stopped Laura from striking her sister. She pushed her chair back and glared. ‘I’ll leave you to the tree, then. They say small things amuse small minds.’

‘Is that what they say?’ Jenny never batted an eyelid. ‘It should follow then, that anyone who is never amused, has no mind at all.’

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