Authors: Carol Rivers
‘You been asleep a good hour.’
‘What time is it?’
The big woman, with rosy red cheeks, laughed. ‘Half-past four, and time for a cup of tea if they remember us. My neighbour has just smuggled me in a nice piece of bread pudding. You can have some, if you like.’
‘I don’t think I can eat any more.’
‘Please yerself But it’d do you good.’
Pearl eased herself up on her elbows. Her back ached from where she had been trying to sit upright, even in her sleep. She wanted to get up but the nurses wouldn’t let her.
A man and woman were leaving and waved to the girl in the bed opposite. Was it the end of visiting time?
‘By the way,’ said her companion, ‘a bloke has been sitting on the chair beside you. He was very worried when he saw you kipping. He kept asking the nurse if you was all right. I told him meself that you were, but I could see he didn’t believe me.’
‘What did he look like?’ Pearl asked.
‘A bit rough round the edges. He had lovely blue eyes, though.’
Pearl smiled. ‘That would be my husband.’
‘Said he’d be back.’
Pearl felt very strange. She was trying to remember what happened. Had Jim really come each day to the hospital? She wondered what his feelings towards her were now.
The ward door opened and closed but no one came in. Had he gone away? Once more she closed her eyes. She was very tired and was on the edge of sleep again when she heard a voice.
‘Mrs Nesbitt?’ A nurse was shaking her.
‘Yes? What?’ Her head swam.
‘Your husband is concerned about you, although I’ve tried to reassure him that you’re only taking forty winks.’
Pearl saw Jim standing there. He was wearing his best trousers and short-sleeved white shirt. His hair had grown a little and he’d parted it on the side and combed it flat.
When the nurse had gone, she smiled hesitantly. ‘Hello, Jim.’
He pulled back his shoulders and placed a bunch of chrysanthemums on the bed. ‘It’s lovely to see you awake, gel.’
‘Are those for me?’
‘I wouldn’t buy ’em for anyone else.’
‘Thank you.’
‘You know, you’re a real sight for sore eyes.’
‘Am I?’ She didn’t know what she looked like as she didn’t have a mirror. She felt embarrassed in her starched hospital gown.
‘Can I sit beside you?’
‘Course you can. The lady in the next bed said you was here.’
‘Did she give you the weather report an’ all?’
For the first time since she’d been awake she wanted to laugh.
‘How are you feeling?’
‘I want to get up but they won’t let me.’
‘The doc says it looks like you took a nasty fall.’
Pearl tried to remember having fallen, but she couldn’t get beyond her head aching. ‘The last thing I remember is going over to Roper’s Way after I’d phoned Ruby.’
‘Yes, Fitz went after you when you didn’t come home. Gwen came to fetch me from the yard and we put our heads together and came up with Roper’s Way. So Percy and me went over.’
‘The doctor said I was lucky you found me.’
He moved the flowers to one side and took her hand. ‘When I saw you lying there, I thought you was dead. You know what they say, that your life flashes before you? Well, mine did just that.’
Pearl felt as though she’d gone to sleep in one world and woken in another. Jim was his old self, just like he used to be. She felt confused.
He squeezed her hand. ‘Oh, Pearly-girl, don’t cry.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she sniffed.
‘Listen, we want you to get well. Cynth is fed up with me cooking already.’
She smiled. ‘I miss her.’ Had he come back home? She didn’t have enough courage to ask.
For a few moments they were quiet. ‘I wish I could remember,’ she sighed.
‘Don’t try now.’
‘I must.’ She closed her eyes. ‘I was standing looking at the debris. There was just the wall and the chimney. Everything else was . . . it was just bricks and dust.’ She swallowed. ‘Then . . . then someone grabbed me.’ Her eyes flew open. ‘It was Ricky.’
His face went pale. ‘He was there?’
‘Yes,’ she faltered. ‘He said he’d been watching me. That . . . that he knew you’d left. I tried to get away . . . he . . . was coming after me. I ran. There was a loud noise and . . . I fell.’ She burst into tears.
‘What’s up over there?’ the woman called from the next bed.
‘Nothing,’ Jim called gruffly. He squeezed Pearl’s hands hard. ‘I should have been there to protect you. Instead I’d got it into me head that was where you and him met. I must need me brains tested.’
‘And I should never have gone to Abingley,’ she admitted. ‘He said if I didn’t do as he said, he’d tell you and Ruby everything.’
‘So he’s still up to his old tricks?’ His eyes had grown cold.
‘Jim, I’ve always been faithful to you.’
‘I know that, Pearl,’ he whispered. ‘When I saw you at Roper’s Way, all I wanted was to take you in my arms and tell you I was sorry. So I’m asking you now, for another chance.’
‘I love you, Jim. But what if he comes back? Will you still trust me then?’
‘If the bugger does,’ he replied fiercely, ‘then you’ll have me beside you and nothing he says will touch us. I’ll feel like bloody murdering him, but I won’t as I’ve too much to live for now. I’ve made the biggest pig’s ear of me life that a bloke could make, but I promise you this: no one is going to steal any more of
our
happiness. You’ve got me with you every step of the way and I intend to prove it.’
‘Jim, if only that could be.’
It was cooler as Jim made his way home. The late afternoon was overcast and unsettled, and a few specks of rain wet his cheeks. A rumble of thunder caused him to remember the day at the yard when Pearl had told him about Ricky. He’d never known such bitterness inside him. Instead of hearing her out, he’d acted like a jealous fool.
All his life he’d been a moderate man. He’d enjoyed a few beers, but the drink had never really interested him. Not until he’d let Winters get under his skin so deeply there was no turning back. Well, now he was facing things square on. He’d known when Pearl was lying in hospital that he wouldn’t want life without her.
But what would happen if Winters returned? He’d replied that he’d be beside her this time. And he would. But could he really shape up?
Suddenly he stood still, allowing the salty breeze to blow into his nostrils. Was he still Jim Nesbitt, the man who had chosen to fight for his country and prove himself? A man with a passion for life burning inside him? Or was he a shadow of his former self? What could he offer Pearl other than promises? What prospects did he have for the future?
The traffic was going homeward; heavy vehicles, those that were still issued with petrol, lined up with the horses and carts, all moving towards the lifting bridges to wait their turn to cross. The island stretched around him, the Blitz and Hitler’s secret weapons having done their work. Bomb craters, piles of debris and mountains of bricks. On impulse he turned towards Roper’s Way.
It wasn’t long before he came to the wasteland that was once the Jenkinses’ street.
‘Bit of an eyesore,’ said a voice, and Jim turned to find a young bobby beside him. Tipping his helmet back an inch he sighed. ‘You from round here?’
Jim nodded. ‘My wife lived at number twenty-four.’
‘Blimey, she wouldn’t recognize it now, would she?’ The policeman frowned. ‘This time next week they’re having this lot away. They’re going to build these prefabricated efforts. With all the blokes being demobbed, they need something to tide them over.’
‘It puts roofs over heads.’
‘That it does. You looking for anything to take? Like a souvenir or such like?’
‘No,’ Jim answered with a shrug. ‘I was just strolling down memory lane.’
‘Well, don’t stroll over that lot. There used to be an old factory over there. A stray dog got his chips yesterday. Blown sky high, it was. Thank God it was only an animal. The bomb disposal blokes said the Luftwaffe dropped bombs on purpose that had faulty timers. Said it was probably one of them buggers that caused all the trouble in the first place.’ He shook his head warily. ‘Anyway, be seeing you around.’
‘Yes, cheerio.’
Jim watched the young rookie walk down the road, his hands clutched behind his back.
Treading carefully up the debris, Jim stood at the top. His heart raced. In his head, he heard Pearl’s words:
. . . just the wall and the chimney . . . There was a loud noise and I fell . . .
But there was no wall or chimney now. When had it fallen? It was certainly before he had found her. He looked down at his feet, at the small crater.
Slowly he began to lift the bricks, working deeper into the hole. He found more of the mantel and a broken hearth stone. Deep in thought, he paused, rubbing the dust from his eyes. As he blinked, a human arm appeared. For some while, he remained there, too stunned to move as he stared into the face of the man, that in life, he had once so hated.
June 1949
‘Mum! I just sold a bit of china that Gwen give me last time we was over the shop,’ shouted six-year-old Cynthia as she leaped the stairs of the cottage and burst into her mother’s rag-room. Breathlessly she stood before Pearl, her blue eyes as wide as Jim’s and her bouncing sandy curls spilling down her back like a waterfall. She was very tall for her age and, Pearl liked to think, very bright. For sixpence a week, after school and at weekends, she worked in the yard and loved it. She was her father’s girl, as she always had been.
‘Gwen will be pleased when she hears that.’
Cynthia tossed back her head. ‘I gave Fitz an ’a’penny for it. And sold it for a bob.’
‘You made a fine profit there.’
‘I’ve got more for me ’orse now.’
‘Who did you sell it to?’ Pearl enquired as she sifted the cuttings of tailor’s cloth that Jim had returned with last night.
‘Some coster from West Ferry Road that knows Dad.’ Cynthia dropped the payment for the china in the big tobacco pouch that hung from the wall. In this she kept all her savings. ‘Do I get me tanner yet?’
‘Have you sorted out the bottles?’
‘Dillys is callin’. She wants to help out, but I don’t want to give her any of me money. I’m savin’ up for me ’orse, ain’t I?’
Pearl left the pile of rags and sat down on the chair. ‘Well, you might not get one of those for a while. You’ll have to be patient.’
‘Dad said I could after Barney.’
‘Yes, well, we don’t want to wish him away, do we?’
‘Course not. I reckon he’ll live as long as me. But there’s space in the stable for a little ’orse too.’
Pearl laughed and brought her daughter close. ‘Listen, clever clogs, if Dillys wants to help out, I’ll give her thrupence for her time. How does that sound?’
Cynthia’s brow knitted. ‘I’ll get her to clean the brass for that.’
‘It’s a dirty job.’
‘She don’t mind. She wants an ’orse too.’
‘She’s going to have a job fitting it in her house.’
Cynthia burst out laughing. Pearl loved her laughter, loud and unguarded. No one was ever going to dampen her spirits and that was the way Pearl encouraged it. The East End was a tough place to live, but Cynth was a natural; she had embraced her new life at the yard with a passion.
‘Don’t want to squash me brother,’ she grinned, rolling a finger over the slope of Pearl’s belly. ‘How long’s he gonna be in there?’
Pearl grinned. ‘Next month, in July, he’ll arrive. Unless he comes early like you.’
‘Why did I come early?’
‘The stork was flying over this way.’
‘I ain’t seen many storks around ’ere.’
‘Just keep a good look out and you’ll see one.’
A small voice from downstairs floated up, calling Cynth.
Pearl patted her bottom. ‘That’s Dillys. Off you go.’
‘Can I go out with Dad tomorra?’
‘It’s Sunday.’
‘Are we going to Gran’s?’ Cynthia frowned, scratching her head as she looked at Pearl.
‘If your dad wants.’
‘Or I could go to Sunday school. They give us liquorice strips for readin’ the Bible. I can read all them funny names easy–peasy. But they run out of liquorice last time. It was borin’ after that.’
Pearl grinned as her daughter ran off. In that respect she certainly took after her mother! No, there was never a dull moment when Cynth was around, as Granny Nesbitt had discovered over the years. Whether it was Cynth’s rough charm that had mellowed her, or age, Pearl couldn’t be sure. But time had brought a truce.
She was about to stand up when the baby kicked. How surprised she had been when Cynth had turned out to be a girl! But this child was quieter, ponderous even. Would Jim soon have a son?
Her cheeks warmed at the thought and Pearl caught sight of her reflection in the big, rust-pitted mirror Jim had attached to the wall. Her hair was pinned to the back of her head, a scarf across it to keep out the dust from the rags. Her large canvas apron was stretched tight across her bulge and she smiled at the sight of her rosy cheeks and bright green eyes. Behind her she saw the piles of rags and cuttings that were ready for inspection. Over the years she had learned the value of the clothes and assorted wools that were returned on the cart. Rags of all kinds were a totter’s bread and butter. She loved working in her large, well-ordered rag-room in the eaves of Percy’s cottage. How clever Jim had been to bring the old place back to life after Percy’s death. In the space of three years the yard had become a profitable business, and though it was a dirty old trade, there was a good living in it. Jim had put his heart and soul into the legacy he had received; with no family to call his own, Percy had looked on Jim as a son.