The Narrowboat Girl (11 page)

‘Back a bit later,’ Joel said. ‘You’ll be all right with Ada ’ere.’

Ada grinned, shuffled herself down under the bed with another blanket, rested her head on her coat arm and, to Maryann’s surprise, fell asleep straight away. Jep was allowed to come and
curl up next to her.

‘You can have this,’ Joel said, handing her what felt like an army blanket. He indicated that Maryann should lie on the bench. Maryann settled herself down. The bench was hard, but
she didn’t care. The cabin felt so snug and warm. Joel took off his jacket and folded it roughly. ‘Put this under yer head.’

The jacket was worn and the material scratchy, and it smelled of Joel.

‘Ta,’ she whispered.

Maryann dozed for a while in the light from the lamp, and was woken by the two men coming back in. Darius manoeuvred his way across the cabin and was very soon just as fast asleep as Ada.

‘You awright, little ’un?’ Joel asked. She caught a whiff of beer on his breath.

‘Yes – ta,’ she whispered.

‘Oh – you won’t wake them two – not once they’ve gone off.’ But he still spoke in a soft voice. She watched as his huge shadow moved round the walls of the
cabin.

‘Joel?’

‘What’s that then?’ He came and sat beside her, his feet up on the step.

‘’Ve yer always lived on ’ere?’

‘’Cept for the two year – nigh on – I were in France.’

‘Our dad was in France. ’E was a soldier. Were you a soldier an’ all?’

Joel nodded. There was silence before he spoke. His talk came in brief bursts, as though he had to get himself ready for it.

‘Was ’e killed in the war?’

‘No, by a motor car.’

Joel watched her face. ‘You got to go back in the morning, little ’un. You shouldn’t be ’ere, should you?’

‘I know. I will. I just wanted . . . I just like it ’ere.’

For a second she felt his huge hand laid on her head. ‘Sleep, that’s a girl.’

‘’Night, Joel.’

He put the lamp out and the cabin was in complete darkness while she heard him move carefully across and settle himself on the bed beside his father.

She did not sleep well that night. The bench was very uncomfortable and she kept feeling she was going to fall off it. It was quite stuffy, and she could smell Jep’s doggy smell and it was
all strange being there, with no Sal beside her and no Tony across the room. She lay listening to the silence, thinking of the water under them, wondering if she was sleeping above any fish or
frogs. After a time she realized it had started to rain, the drops drumming steadily on the roof, which made the cabin feel even more of a cosy refuge when the sky was only a thin shell away.
Lulled by its rhythm she dozed, but later was woken by Darius Bartholomew snoring. Some time after that Joel was moving about, coughing, and once he got up and left the cabin. She listened to him
straining for breath outside. The sound made her feel sorry for him; a big man’s cough so loud, such a wrenching, painful noise.

When she heard him come back in, she said, ‘Don’t your cough ever get any better?’

He felt his way across, hands moving over her feet, and sat down on the edge of the bench. She heard him say ‘Lie down!’ to Jep.

‘So you’re still on the go, are you? Was it me woke you?’

‘No.’

‘Have yer heard of gas?’

‘’Course.’

‘The sort they used in the war?’

‘Did you get gassed?’

‘Could’ve been a lot worse. But my chest’s always bad. Worse in the winter.’

‘Don’t you ’ave a missis?’ Maryann asked.

She heard another small seizure of laughter from Joel. ‘No.’

‘Don’t yer want one?’

‘Me?’ There was a pause. ‘Well – yes, course. But it ent happened yet. You don’t meet up with people for long, working the cut. Here today, gone tomorrow.
Don’t s’pose I’m very easy to live with, neither.’

‘I wouldn’t mind living with yer,’ Maryann said.

She heard Joel’s laugh again. She liked the way he laughed when she said things, as if he found her surprising and funny.

‘Don’t know what yer mom’d say about that. She won’t be very pleased with you in the morning, will she?’

‘No. I s’pose not. But can I come and see yer again?’

‘I told you you could. We work up and down this route. We can send word when the
Esther Jane
’s coming through.’

‘Oh,
will
yer?’

Joel stood up. Once more she felt him pat her, this time her shoulder. ‘You don’t give up, do yer? Go on – off to sleep.’

They were up at dawn, the sky grey and rain still falling, the men with many hours of work ahead of them. Maryann said her goodbyes and thanked them.

‘Look out for us!’ Ada called to her.

‘Oh – I’ll be back!’ She was shivering in her thin frock in the wet, but so happy she didn’t care.

She watched as the
Esther Jane
began to slide along the wharf, off to collect her next load to be moved north, Jep standing on the cabin roof, Bessie plodding along, the white blotches of
her coat standing out in the overcast morning. Joel waved at her.

‘Go on now – I want to see you on your way!’ he called, then coughed.

‘Come back soon!’ she shouted, watching until they were out of sight before she tore back round on to the towpath towards home. She had to get changed into her school clothes!

It was fully light when she got home, the lamps were out, people were setting off for work. When she opened the front door she could hear the sound of her mom shovelling coal. The cellar had
flooded so they were keeping it out the back under a tarpaulin. She stood in the front for a breathless moment, hearing footsteps on the stairs, which came down into the corner of the front room.
The stairs door opened and Sal appeared, face white as a sheet.

‘Maryann! Oh my God, Maryann. Where were yer? I thought summat ’ad happened to yer! Our mom’s going to ’ave yer for this!’ To Maryann’s astonishment, Sal
flung her arms round her, sounding tearful.

Flo came and stood in the doorway, hair still plaited from bed.

‘Well—’ she began menacingly. ‘Where in God’s name ’ve you been?’

Maryann shrugged. She wasn’t telling
them
. ‘Out.’

‘Out!’ Flo was about to get herself worked up but then the effort seemed too great. She badly wanted a cup of tea and there was obviously no harm done. ‘Well –
you’re back now, ain’t yer? We’ll ’ave to see what yer father ’as to say.’

That evening Maryann was settled in the kitchen after tea, about to start on her bit of homework. She was still wondering with astonishment why no one had said anything.
They’d all sat through the meal together and there’d been not a word. Had she got away with it? Then she heard Norman Griffin’s voice from the front.

‘Maryann – come through ’ere.’

Her heart started racing then, stomach tightening in dread but she kept her expression blank as she went through to the front room, clutching one of her books to her chest. Sal had stood up and
was hovering behind Flo’s chair. Maryann didn’t look at her stepfather. She fixed her gaze on the grate: the poker with its brass handle was lying across the fender. The room stank of
his cigarettes.

‘I’ve not heard anything in the way of an explanation about you disappearing off for the night, Maryann, worrying yer mother half to death.’

Maryann hung her head.

‘So where were yer?’

She said nothing. Nothing on God’s earth was going to make her tell him, even if he took a stick to her. She’d slept on the
Esther Jane
! That was something they couldn’t
take away from her and she’d never forget it.

‘Are yer going to tell me, or what?’

‘What.’

Norman propelled his rotund bulk up out of the chair. ‘Why, yer impudent little bugger!’

‘Maryann!’ Flo sat forward on the edge of her chair, eyeing her husband. ‘I’ll not ’ave yer speaking to Norman like that. Now come on – spit it out. Was you
at Nance’s, or what?’

‘I ain’t telling yer.’ She looked up into Norman’s face. Her legs had gone weak and trembly. Sal had a desperate expression in her eyes, her hand over her mouth.

Norman seemed at a loss for words. ‘Go up to bed,’ he said, his voice tightly controlled. ‘But you needn’t think I’ve finished with yer.’

‘Don’t do that, Maryann,’ Sal said when they were upstairs, undressing in their candlelit room. ‘Just tell ’im where yer went for God’s sake, we was all
worried. Where were yer?’

‘I’m not telling you neither!’ Maryann flung her cardigan on the chair. Her voice was a fierce hiss. ‘And I bloody ain’t telling ’im, Mr Smelly
Pig!’

‘Keep yer voice down – you’ll wake Tony. You’re a silly little cow, Maryann. You’re just making trouble for everyone.’

‘Not for everyone – just me. You ain’t in no trouble, are yer?’

‘That’s what you think – you don’t know what ’e’s like, none of yer – you ain’t got no idea . . .’ Sal’s voice started to crack. She
put her hands over her face. ‘Oh God, Maryann . . .’

‘What the ’ell’s the matter now?’ Maryann managed a rough transition from being furious to sounding sympathetic. At least Sal was talking to her for once and not just
telling her to shove off. She was really crying her heart out as well, shaking with it. ‘Come on, Sal – I’m on your side, you know I am.’

‘I can’t . . .’ Sal was shaking all over, could hardly speak, teeth chattering. ‘You don’t know what ’e might do!’

‘Don’t talk daft – what’s ’e going to do? ’E can’t do nothing!’

But the emotion she could feel coming from Sal was so strong that she hugged her tightly with one arm, taking her hand with the other, trying to steady her. ‘God, Sal, you’re
freezing! What’s happened – you can tell me. I won’t breathe a word, you know I won’t. Cross my heart.’

‘It’s . . . it’s . . . I can’t . . . It’s too dirty . . . I’m dirty . . .’

‘Sal!’

But they both froze then, eyes meeting each other’s, as they heard the door open at the bottom of the stairs.

‘Don’t you worry, Flo love, I’ll deal with it my way. You stay ’ere – it’ll all be sorted out in a few minutes.’

Moving as one body the girls blew the candle out and flung themselves into the bed, half undressed as they were, the springs on the bed giving them away as they pulled the covers up over them,
lying down and squeezing their eyes tight shut. Maryann could feel her heart thumping as if it might burst.

The heavy steps came closer. He was in the room, standing looking down at them. They could hear his breathing. Maryann felt Sal grip her arm, squeezing until her nails dug in.

‘I know you’re not asleep. I don’t need a candle to know that.’

There was a long silence, so long that Maryann had an odd floating sensation as if she was dreaming, that he was not really there, but she couldn’t open her eyes because it felt as if
Norman Griffin could see everything, each flick of an eyelid, as if the room, for him, was full of light. It wasn’t completely dark outside and you could just see the outlines of things in
the room. She felt Sal give a gasping little breath. What was he waiting for? Why didn’t he say anything? Then at last he moved closer along Maryann’s side of the bed.

‘So – secrets, eh?’ Speaking more softly this time, almost singsong.

Another pause.

‘Maryann?’

She said nothing, stopped breathing, remembering to do so again with a gasp.

Norman cleared his throat. ‘We all have our little secrets, don’t we, Sal? See, Maryann, Sal and I’ve come to a sort of agreement, haven’t we, Sal? And I don’t see
why you shouldn’t be part of that now as well. Sal’s getting older and there are certain things older girls ain’t no good for.’

Maryann felt him sitting himself down on her side of the bed and she squirmed further across towards Sal. What was he talking about? She didn’t understand at all. It was no use carrying on
pretending to be asleep. She forced her eyes open and, though fully aware that he was there, she jumped when she saw him leaning close, looking at her. Her heart was racing frantically. With an
abrupt movement he pulled back the cover and laid his hand on her chest, fumbling round her tiny breasts. His hand felt hot and heavy, pinching and hurting her, and Maryann whimpered.

‘Don’t touch my sister!’ Sal sat up, trying to find a thread of courage, then her own voice trailed pathetically. ‘Please Mr Griffin. Not ’er as well.
’Er’s only a child. It ain’t right.’

‘Oh – jealous now, are we!’ He laughed. Maryann had the same feeling she had the night she found Nanny Firkin dead, that this couldn’t really be happening. It was a
horrible dream.

‘D’yer want it an’ all, Sal?’ He reached across and Maryann heard Sal cry out.

‘Stop it – I’ll call our mom, yer dirty man.’

‘Call yer mom!’ he mimicked her. ‘D’yer think she’d believe a word you say, little Sally Griffin. She ain’t gunna believe any of this in a month of Sundays.
And you ain’t so brave, are yer, not normally.’ The voice was hard now, cold as steel, talking on and on, and they had no choice but to hear it.

‘Just remember, Sal, what I’ll do if I ’ave any trouble from you. Do I ’ave to remind you again, eh? You ain’t no good to me now, and I need someone who is. And
this one’ – Maryann felt him prod her – ‘she’s still clean and she’s got a bit of spirit to ’er an’ all. You can leave school in a couple of months,
can’t you, Maryann? And then we’ll see about a job for yer.’ He ran his hand down the length of her body, hovering at the top of her thighs. ‘Secrets, Maryann. Yer a good
wench if yer can keep a secret. Because if you say a word . . .’

He left the threat hanging over them, unfinished, as he got up and went off downstairs.

Sal turned away, crying, curling herself up as tight as she could.

‘Sal – oh Sal, don’t! Talk to me!’ Maryann felt horrible, having him touching her, but she didn’t understand what it was all about, she just knew it was all wrong.
‘Why was ’e doing that? Sal, tell me what ’e’s been doing!’

‘I can’t.’

‘Why not?’

‘I just can’t tell yer – couldn’t say the words. Just, Maryann—’ She rolled over, peering down intensely into Maryann’s face. ‘’E’s
bad and dirty and I don’t want ’im going anywhere near you. ’E does things ’e shouldn’t.’