Across a Summer Sea (5 page)
Maggie rose. ‘Well, I’m off to my bed.’
Mary also got to her feet. ‘And it’s time you three were in bed too. I’ve a pile of mending to get done and it’s going to be a busy day tomorrow.’
Chapter Three
N
EXT MORNING WHEN MARY drew the curtains in the kitchen she saw that it had snowed quite heavily during the night. The snow had transformed the tiny dingy yard. The shapes of the washtub and the old mangle could barely be distinguished. However, a weak sun was filtering through the remaining grey clouds. At least that would make it a bit more bearable, she thought.
EXT MORNING WHEN MARY drew the curtains in the kitchen she saw that it had snowed quite heavily during the night. The snow had transformed the tiny dingy yard. The shapes of the washtub and the old mangle could barely be distinguished. However, a weak sun was filtering through the remaining grey clouds. At least that would make it a bit more bearable, she thought.
There wasn’t time to stand and admire the scene though: there was the fire to mend; the breakfast - such as it was - to be made; then, when Frank had gone to work, the real work would begin. And she was still so tired. It had been late when she had finally finished all the mending last night and Frank had gone up before her, with barely a muttered ‘goodnight’. But she set to, and before long she had cleared the table and Katie had washed the dishes and then had joined Tommy’s entreaties to be allowed to go out and play in the snow.
‘Take Lizzie with you and be careful. It will be slippery underfoot and the last thing I need today is for one of you to fall and break something!’
‘Mam, can I take the tray out of the oven? We’ll make a great slide!’ Tommy begged.
‘No, you can’t. You’ll make the pavements even worse for people to walk on. It’s freezing out there. Here, Lizzie, let me wrap this around you, luv.’ She gently drew the child to her and wrapped a long hand-knitted scarf over her head and around her neck, wishing her coat was thicker and that they all had gloves or mittens. ‘Now, off you go. Take care and don’t go making a nuisance of yourselves! Katie, you and Lizzie go and call on Nellie and tell her I’ll keep an eye on her kids too, that’s if she’s letting them out.’
‘They’ll be out, Mam. Everyone will be out,’ Katie answered, pulling her sister towards the door. Tommy had already disappeared.
‘As if we needed this!’ Maggie said crossly as she came into the room, jerking her head in the direction of the snow-covered yard.
‘Oh, I don’t mind. At least it keeps the kids quiet.’
‘Until they get cold and wet and start traipsing in and out.’
Mary looked closely at the older woman. ‘You’re not yourself this morning, Maggie.’
‘No, luv, I’m not. I don’t feel well. I had a shocking night. I just couldn’t get comfortable.’
‘I’ll put the kettle on. Shall I tell Nellie you’re not up to giving her a hand? You could even go back to bed. Try and get some rest, you deserve it, Maggie, you work very hard and I’ll be busy today.’
Maggie was scandalised. ‘Take to my bed at this time in the morning! There’s time enough for that when I’m really sick! No, I promised Nellie. I’ll be fine after a cup of tea.’
Mary cut her a slice of bread and spread dripping on it, then placed the big brown teapot on the table.
‘Let it stand for a minute. I’d better make a list of everything I want to buy today so I don’t forget anything.’
‘Will you be able to manage the market on your own, Mary? By the time I’ve got through the day I won’t feel much like traipsing up and down Great Homer Street.’
‘Of course I will.’
‘How much have you got? Don’t forget what I said last night about getting yourself something. I meant it.’
‘Oh, I’ll see. I’ve got a good bit to spend. Now, there’s meat, vegetables, a bit of fruit, a couple of slices of Dundee cake, tea, sugar, a bit of butter, Nellie’s getting those eggs, salt fish for breakfast, bread and then I’ll get some sweets and a couple of penny toys each for the kids. I might even get some holly and those cheap paper decorations they sell. It’s a pity we can’t have a Christmas tree, the kids would really love that, but it’s beyond my pocket and I owe Sarah McShane for the coal. I’ll have to get a couple of bottles of beer for Frank to go with his dinner.’
Maggie pursed her lips. ‘There won’t be much left to buy yourself something. Can’t he do without his ale? He’ll have enough at Nellie’s tomorrow
and
you can bet your life he’ll be in the pub this afternoon when he’s finished work.’ She was certain that Frank McGann had kept back enough of his wages to go drinking with his mates and even if Violet hadn’t been getting married on Christmas Eve there would have been little done in the way of work by most of the men in the street.
and
you can bet your life he’ll be in the pub this afternoon when he’s finished work.’ She was certain that Frank McGann had kept back enough of his wages to go drinking with his mates and even if Violet hadn’t been getting married on Christmas Eve there would have been little done in the way of work by most of the men in the street.
‘Oh, Maggie, it’s Christmas!’
Maggie was about to make a sarcastic comment when the door burst open and Katie appeared, her face flushed. ‘Mam! Mam, come quick! Our Tommy and the other lads made a slide and Mrs Jones came out of her door and fell flat on her back!’
‘Oh, Jesus, Mary and Holy St Joseph! Is she hurt? I’ll swing for that lad yet! I
told
him not to be carrying on like that.’
told
him not to be carrying on like that.’
‘It was Georgie Price’s fault. He had a shelf from his mam’s oven!’
‘This time Hetty will have to do something about that little hooligan!’ Maggie said grimly as she followed Mary out.
Nellie was on her feet but hanging on to the downspout for dear life.
‘Nellie, are you hurt, luv?’
‘Just a bit shaken up, Mary! I put me foot outside and down I went!’
Maggie took her arm. ‘Come on, let’s get you back inside. A cup of good strong tea is what you need.’
Mary rounded on the small group of lads who were all looking a bit sheepish. ‘I hope you lot are satisfied! And you, Georgie Price, you’ll end up in a reformatory the way you’re going on! I’m going to see your da about this. You, Tommy McGann, get inside! That’s all the nonsense I’m going to stand from you for today. You can spend your time doing something useful for a change. There’s wood to be chopped for a start and then you can go to the dairy!’
The little group dispersed, shooting malevolent glances at a subdued Georgie Price. If their das got to hear of this there’d be nothing in any of their stockings on Christmas morning.
Nellie wasn’t in fact injured, and after a cup of tea and some encouragement from Maggie and Queenie (and a couple of other neighbours whose sons had been involved and who all swore retribution in one form or another on their offspring), she pulled herself together. They began the final preparations for Violet’s wedding.
By mid-afternoon Mary was exhausted. She had swept and scrubbed the house from top to bottom. She had black-leaded the range, polished the fender and ashpans, scrubbed the table until it was white, taken out the few rag rugs, thrown them over the washing line and given them a good beating and had tidied herself up ready to go to Dalgleish’s pawnshop to redeem Frank’s good suit.
‘Right, I’m off to Uncle’s for your da’s suit. Behave yourselves and don’t get this place mucky!’ she instructed, wrapping her shawl around her shoulders.
‘When will Da be home, Mam?’ Tommy asked cautiously.
‘Any time now and don’t blame me if he’s heard about your antics this morning!
You
can explain it all to him.’ Mary was aware that this was possible because of the fact that today it wouldn’t only be Queenie down at the dock gates waiting for her husband’s wages.
You
can explain it all to him.’ Mary was aware that this was possible because of the fact that today it wouldn’t only be Queenie down at the dock gates waiting for her husband’s wages.
‘Da’s just come up the yard. Now you’re for it!’ Katie hissed at her brother.
Mary was relieved. Now he could keep his eye on them. She just never knew what Tommy would get up to when her back was turned: more dreadful mischief, if the past two days were anything to go by.
Then her heart sank. She realised that Frank was drunk.
‘I see you’ve been celebrating!’
He glared at her through bloodshot eyes, hanging on to the mantelshelf for support. ‘Can’t a man have a drink at Christmas?’
‘In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s the day
before
Christmas Eve!’
before
Christmas Eve!’
‘What’s for my dinner? I’m starving.’
She was becoming angry. Did he have no idea of the amount of work she had to do? ‘I didn’t know what time you’d be in. Katie will heat up that bit of scouse that’s left but there’s no bread to go with it. I’ve the shopping to do tonight.’
‘I suppose you’ve all had
your
dinner though?’ he said nastily.
your
dinner though?’ he said nastily.
‘No, we haven’t! The kids have had a bit of bread and scrape. I’ve had nothing since breakfast and now I’ve to go and fetch your good suit and then press it and iron you a clean shirt ready for tomorrow. Give Tommy your boots, he’ll give them a good clean. Tommy, shift yourself; Katie, put the kettle on,’ she instructed. ‘I’ll take Lizzie with me,’ she added. Frank had little patience with Lizzie at the best of times and now wouldn’t be one of them. Quickly she bundled the child into her coat, wrapped the scarf around her and took her hand. She refused to have a row with Frank. Let him sleep it off. He wasn’t going to ruin either Violet’s wedding or Christmas for them.
Lizzie trotted along happily beside her mother. Hers was a silent little world but she noticed many things with her sharp eyes. Things the others didn’t see. Like the way her mam looked at her da. Looks that had changed over the months. Like the way some of the men in the street looked at her mam. (Even she could see that her mam was lovely compared to a lot of the women and girls.) Like the way Katie seemed to creep around her da, as if she was afraid of him. She knew Christmas was coming: she had managed to gather that from all the unusual activity that was going on around her and Katie’s pictures and mimes. From past experience she knew it meant more food and maybe even toys, but it also seemed to mean that her mam was angry with Da. Da didn’t bother with her much but that didn’t upset her. He never had. From the route they were taking she knew she was going to Uncle’s, as everyone called Mr Dalgleish. She liked going there. He had all kinds of things to look at and sometimes he gave her an aniseed ball to suck.
There was a small queue of women waiting in the tiny, musty, overcrowded shop. Bundles with tickets attached to them were piled high on the shelves; in the corners were stacked household articles: clocks, vases, ornaments, rugs and even pots and pans. The women were all there for the same reason; they all used the pawnbroker’s services on a regular basis. The Sunday suits and other best clothes were brought in on Monday mornings to raise a few shillings that would tide them over through the week, and then redeemed on Saturdays.
Finally it was Mary’s turn.
‘Frank’s suit please, Uncle.’ She passed the coins over the counter.
‘Ready for the big do tomorrow?’ Mr Dalgleish asked good-humouredly.
‘Word certainly gets round, doesn’t it?’
‘Talk of the neighbourhood, Mrs McGann.’ He always treated his customers with respect. He knew how hard their lives were and a polite word cost him nothing and meant a great deal to them. They got very few of them in their lives. He leaned over the counter and smiled down at Lizzie. ‘Hello, Lizzie,’ he mouthed slowly and then produced a paper bag from his pocket and extended it to her.
Lizzie smiled, took an aniseed ball and popped it into her mouth, and then nodded her thanks.
Mary too smiled. ‘You’re very good to her.’
‘Ah, it’s nothing. Only a sweetie now and then. Hasn’t she a hard little cross to bear.’
‘I just wish her da thought the same,’ Mary replied with a note of bitterness in her voice. Lizzie couldn’t help the way she was yet somehow Frank seemed silently to blame the child for her afflictions. Or maybe he blamed herself. Maybe that’s when things had started to become cool between them and she’d never noticed it until now?
‘And how is himself?’ Mr Dalgleish asked, retrieving her bundle.
‘Drunk,’ Mary answered before realising what she was saying. ‘I mean he’s been celebrating a bit,’ she added quickly.
‘Ah, well, it’s only to be expected and you have to admit that he doesn’t “celebrate” half as much as some do.’ He smiled understandingly. If half the men in this neighbourhood were to lay off the drink he would face a decline in business, he reminded himself. Still, life for them wasn’t easy either. Far from it. They probably deserved a bit of pleasure although they could temper it with a bit of responsibility towards their long-suffering wives.
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