Polly's War (24 page)

‘He allus has had a soft spot for thee, lass.’ Her calmness surprised Lucy, as if she didn’t mind that her son was “bothering with a married woman,” which was how the self-righteous gossipmongers would see it. ‘Thee has more than thy fair share now, eh?’

‘Of trouble? You’re right, I have. The whole street will be talking about it by tomorrow, I’ve no doubt.’

‘Aye, trying to choose the right one for you, lass. Fellas, two a Penny, eh?’

Lucy tried to smile, used to Minnie’s droll sense of humour, then leaned across the table, her face serious again. ‘At least I stick up for Michael. They’ve already had a go at him.’

“‘Sticks and stones may break my bones but calling never hurt me.” Isn’t that what kids say?’

‘The
gossips
say he’s a conchie. That’s why someone threw that brick at him. Didn’t he tell you?’

Minnie looked startled, her mouth curling in upon itself till her lips had almost disappeared. ‘
Conchie?
Where the hecky thump did they get that from?’

‘You know what folk are like. All because they’ve never seen him in uniform.’

Minnie was silent for a whole half minute, quite a long time for her. ‘Come on, and don’t make a sound. I want to show thee summat. Summat tha’d best see if that’s the way the wind blows.’

Back at number 32 Tom Shackleton took the opportunity of an empty house to visit his wife’s bedroom. Polly and Charlie were down at the warehouse and Sarah Jane and Sean were fast asleep, curled up like a pair of spoons in the single bed they shared in the corner. The brass double bed which had once stood in a bedroom in his own home, occupied most of the rest of the floor.

Tom resented the fact that they had to share a house with Lucy’s family though he could see how it had made sense for Lucy, while he was away in the war. But a man should have his own place. He also bitterly resented only being offered the alcove bed downstairs when there was this big one here, which he should be sharing with his own wife. He’d certainly no intention of sharing her with that conchie. It amused him that Lucy had no idea that he’d seen them together, kissing and canoodling in the school yard. Bit of luck that was. He chuckled now to think how Benny had got it in the neck for something he didn’t do. If she knew that it’d been he who’d thrown that brick, she might not even offer him the alcove bed.

But he meant to start asserting his rights soon. It wasn’t that he meant to hang around longer than was necessary. Once she’d had time to get used to the idea and accepted him back in a proper fashion as a good obedient wife should, they’d be off, out of this dratted street and this drab city. He’d never shared Lucy’s love for Manchester and he’d taken a big risk in coming home back, like a rat to its hole, he thought to himself with a smile. One he had to make worth his while.

For now he turned his attention to quietly opening and closing drawers in the chest which stood beside the bed. After some moments of searching he found what he was looking for. A small tin. Inside was exactly what he’d expected, a collection of coins and one or two notes. Like her mother, his lovely Lucy believed in careful budgeting. Old habits never change. He smiled again as he pocketed the money, leaving no more than a coin or two in the bottom of the tin. What was hers was now his. She was his wife after all. Then he let himself quietly out of the house and headed for The Dog and Duck. The children would be all right on their own for once. No bombs would be likely to drop, since hostilities were over, and they were fast asleep. He’d just slip out and do what needed to be done, then have a quick half and be back long before Lucy returned.

Woken by the click of the front door, Sean sat up in bed and started to cry.

Filled with curiosity, Lucy followed the old woman upstairs. On the first landing Minnie opened a door and led her quietly inside. In the centre of the large double bed, Michael lay breathing softly, deep in sleep.

Lucy stepped back, alarmed, but Minnie merely put one finger to her lips, urging her to be quiet and pointed to something on the floor. Peering into the shadows by the big high bed, Lucy saw Michael’s boots, the ones he wore every day, and always brightly polished. But they looked somehow different as they stood on the bedroom rug. One was quite ordinary, the other taller, as if they weren’t a proper pair. And then it came to her what she was looking at and her hand flew to her mouth to stop herself from crying out loud.
 

Back in the kitchen the two women faced each other once more. ‘So, now you know,’ Minnie said matter-of-factly as she poured Lucy a fresh cup of tea and popped in two saccharin tablets. ‘This so-called conchie left half his leg in the desert, his foot anyroad. Happen you should tell those gossips to look for it, should they ever go visiting that part of the world.’

’Oh, that’s awful. So that’s where the limp comes from?’

‘Aye.’ Minnie’s expression was solemn. ‘He never mentions it because he doesn’t want folk’s sympathy.’

‘I want you to know that missing a foot or not, it doesn’t make any difference to the way I feel about him. It’s Michael I love. I know it might be wrong but I can’t think of Tom as my husband, not any more. I suppose I should, because we were happy once, but I can’t.’

‘Thee’s still a married woman.’

The tea was cooling in the cup but now that she’d started, Lucy couldn’t stop talking. ‘I know, and maybe those feelings would come back if I let them, but somehow I doubt it.
 
I’m desperate not to lose Michael, yet I feel so guilty. I was the one who betrayed my own husband, not that we’ve - I mean - I’ve betrayed him in my mind - by loving another man.’

Minnie had the grace to smile. ‘Nay lass, don’t be too hard on yourself. They told you he was dead. It’s fair enough if tha believed ‘em.’

‘The letter said the army
presumed
he was dead, not quite the same thing, though it felt it at the time. I feel so confused. What am I to do? Tom expects everything to go back to the way it was. He’s told me not to see Michael, nor ever speak to him again. But how can I bear to do that? Should I ask Tom to leave, insist on a divorce? Everyone seems to be getting one these days, so why not me?’ She gave Minnie no opportunity to offer any opinion as she continued with bitter pain in her voice, ‘Yet it seems so unfair when he nearly died fighting in a war for our sakes, doesn’t it? I’m just being selfish and ungrateful.’ Lucy could feel herself growing all hot and bothered, her throat constricting with tears and her chest tight with fear.

‘Bide yer time, lass. Bide yer time. Give the lad chance to settle and yourself time to get used to the idea. Problems have a way of sorting themselves out in the end, though the cat doesn’t always jump the way you expect.’

This old woman, who Lucy had always thought of as her enemy looked so sad, and so full of sympathy that she felt an odd sort of kinship with her, as if she understood. Perhaps, some time in her own youth, Minnie Hopkins had loved and lost. ‘Yes, you’re right. It wouldn’t be fair to bombard him with demands when he’s only just arrived. Oh, Minnie,’ and the old woman gathered her up in her skinny arms while Lucy lay her head on the flat chest, breathing in the scent of violets and pear drops, thinking that this cantankerous old dragon suddenly seemed to be her only friend.

Later, as Minnie showed her to the door they found an envelope on the mat that someone had pushed through the letterbox. Inside were three white feathers.

Chapter Fifteen

Coming home to find her small son in a lather of distress and Sarah Jane in a flood of tears, not knowing where to find either of her parents, inflamed Lucy with the kind of anger she’d never experienced in her life before. Perhaps it was just as well that her negligent husband didn’t come home till the early hours, far too late to discuss the matter then. She’d also discovered the near empty tin which she used to save up for her share of the household expenses. It wasn’t difficult to guess what had happened to that either.

But it wasn’t until after supper the next day that the subject was raised. She’d been quietly fuming all day and as Lucy ladled out meat and potato pie, everyone ate in a subdued silence, as if aware of a storm brewing. Even the children were quieter than usual and as soon as the meal was over, Polly offered to put them to bed while Charlie did the clearing away, shooing the pair off into the front parlour.

The minute the door was closed Lucy calmly enquired where, exactly, he’d spent the previous evening. ‘And don’t say you went for a swift half because you didn’t come home until after two in the morning. No doubt spending the money you stole from my tin.’

‘I won’t even bother to answer, since you seem to know everything.’

Lucy had vowed that she would remain calm, now she almost screamed at him. ‘How could you leave the children alone like that?’

His response was cold to the point of icy. Turning from her, he picked up the paper as he always did when he needed a barrier between them. ‘They were perfectly safe. Many kids have been left in worse places during this war. In any case, you’re their mother. You shouldn’t have left them either.’

‘But I left them with
you
, their
father
, while I tried to hang on to my job.’

‘I’ve decided I don’t want you working for the Hopkins any more. You won’t be going there again, or on any other cleaning jobs for that matter. You’ll stop at home in future and look after me and the children.’ He didn’t even glance up from the paper, the tone of his voice hard and unyielding, as if the matter were settled and there was really no necessity for further discussion.

Lucy’s eyes widened in disbelief, half laughing at his obstinacy. ‘You can’t be serious. Of course I’ll be going again. It’s a good job, that pays well. How would we manage without it?’

‘I shall find a job. No problem. Till then, we can go on the dole, or benefits.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

He flung the paper aside so violently Lucy took a quick step back, startled by his quick anger. ‘Do you need it spelling out? I thought I made it clear last night. I’ll not have you seeing Michael Hopkins, and lusting after him.’

Lucy wrapped her arms about herself in a half-defensive gesture and drew in a trembling breath, trying to keep steady and composed. ‘I’ve already explained, Tom, nothing ever happened between us and it won’t while you and me are still man and wife, so there’s no reason for you to be jealous. But you can’t expect things not to have changed. I’m prepared for you to stay here for a bit, till you’ve time to sort yourself but ...’

His hand snaked out to grasp her by the hair and push her back against the wall, making her squeal with surprise, quickly stifled as she didn’t wish to alarm the children upstairs. Tom’s face was less than an inch from her own, his rage spraying her with spittle. ‘Listen! You’re
my
wife, not his. And always will be. I’ve no intention of giving you up. Not to anyone, and certainly not to a bloody conchie.’

Lucy felt the first nudge of fear, a worm of unease that wriggled like a maggot at the back of her mind. ‘It was
you
, wasn’t it? You put those feathers through his letter box.’

‘What if I did? I threw the bloody brick an’ all. I saw him kissing and fondling you in that disgusting way in the school yard, so thought I had the right. He deserved everything he got - interfering with my wife.’

A wave of sickness hit her. Hadn’t she felt as if someone were watching them from the shadows? Now she knew it must have been Tom. She felt fury more than shame, disgust and loathing at his cunning. ‘So why didn’t you speak? Why didn’t you let me know you were there?’

‘Because it was far more interesting to find out what you were up to while I was away.’

‘
I’ve told you, nothing happened!
’ She thrust him away, breathing heavily as she resolutely outfaced him. ‘I’ll have you know that Michael Hopkins is no more a conchie than you are, just not so lucky, and I have proof.’ She told him then about Michael’s false foot, watching with satisfaction as astonishment dawned on Tom’s face, making him look rather like a foolish child.

‘Poor man.’ Polly’s voice from the door, which had quietly opened without either of them hearing it. ‘A proud one too by the sound of it.’ She walked in bearing a tray of tea cups and a plate of biscuits. ‘Something to wet your whistle, eh? Sure and I thought I heard a funny noise. But then you could hear bread being buttered in this house, the walls are that thin.’ Polly shrewdly considered her daughter as she set the tray down.

Lucy was shaking too much to answer the question, her eyes riveted on her husband.

Tom stroked a lock of brown curls back from Lucy’s face, the tone of his voice now surprisingly soft. ‘I was just persuading her round to my way of thinking. Necessary, I think, don’t you? The man is obviously taking advantage of her, and since I’m home now, it wouldn’t be proper for Lucy to work there any more. I’d prefer her to give in her notice. Don’t you agree, Polly?’

‘It’s true there has been a bit of gossip,’ Polly agreed, looking uncomfortable and backing quickly out of the room as if regretting having ventured into this private argument between husband and wife.

Lucy was incensed that Tom should use her own mother against her and very nearly flung the tea at him but, determined to stay in control of herself at least, she quietly sat down and sipped it, for all it was scalding hot and the cup clattered against her teeth. ‘I think that decision is up to me, wouldn’t you say?’

‘I’ll not have my wife gossiped about.’