The River Folk (7 page)

When she returned from the long walk along River Road almost to the toll bridge, Bessie’s first thought was to check on Amy Hamilton. Finding that she was up, dressed and had eaten some breakfast, Bessie crossed the yard again to knock on the door of the house next to her own. When she got no response, as was her usual habit with her near neighbours, she opened the door and went inside.

‘And if she dun’t like it,’ Bessie murmured to herself as she did so, ‘she can lump it.’

Remembering how she and Minnie had startled Amy – and themselves – Bessie mounted the stairs calling out, ‘Elsie? Are you there?’

She glanced in the first open door and saw that there was no proper furniture at all in the room, just what looked like a straw mattress on the floor, the only covering a dirty grey blanket. In the far corner sat a doll and one jigsaw puzzle. Bessie shook her head in disbelief. Is this how that poor child was obliged to live? Angry and disgusted, she turned away and lumbered towards the closed door across the landing. Flinging it open, she called again, ‘Elsie, where are you?’

This time the shape beneath the bedclothes did not leap up in fright – it did not even move. Bessie stood a moment, her hand to her mouth. ‘Oh dear Lord,’ she whispered, ‘don’t say he’s done for her.’

She was lying with her face to the wall and, from where Bessie was standing near the door, Elsie Clark did not appear to be breathing, although in the light from the dirty window Bessie could not see clearly. She tiptoed across the room, went around the end of the bed to bend over the woman, whose head was buried beneath the thin blanket. Gently, she touched her shoulder. ‘Elsie?’

To Bessie’s great relief the form stirred and a muffled voice said, ‘Go away. I’ve got flu or summat. You don’t want to catch it.’

Bessie laughed aloud in relief. ‘A bit of the sniffles doesn’t bother me. I haven’t had a day’s illness in me life. Not that I can remember, anyway. Great strapping lass like me,’ she joked. ‘Come on now, sit up and I’ll make you a cuppa.’

‘Please . . .’ The woman’s tone was pleading, fearful almost, Bessie thought. ‘Leave me alone. If Sid finds you here . . .’

‘And I aren’t frit of him, neither,’ Bessie snorted, ‘so come on, let’s be having ya.’

She tugged at the blanket until, with a sigh of resignation, the woman gave in and sat up with a wince of pain.

‘Oh, my good night!’ Bessie exclaimed. She didn’t need to ask what had happened. She could see.

Elsie’s face was a mass of bruises, some older than others. The most recent injury appeared to be to her left eye, which was so swollen it was closed. She sat up in the bed holding her left arm and, through a lip that was still swollen from two days previously, murmured, ‘I reckon me arm’s broken.’

Bessie, staring at her, sat down heavily on the end of the bed as she asked, yet again, ‘Aw lass, why do you put up with it?’

The woman shook her head. ‘You don’t understand. And I can’t explain it all. He doesn’t mean it. I know he doesn’t and he’s so sorry afterwards.’

‘Huh, I’d make the bugger sorry,’ Bessie muttered and added to herself, and I probably will. Aloud, she said, ‘I’ll make you that tea I promised and a slice of toast and then I’m calling the doctor to you, me girl.’

‘Oh Bessie, no. I can’t afford . . .’

‘Ne’er mind about that. I’ll pay, if necessary. If that arm is broken, it’s got to be seen to.’

That evening, Bessie was waiting for Sid Clark to arrive home. When she saw him with a pathetic bunch of flowers in his hand, she stepped out of her door and barred his way.

‘Oh aye, and where did you pinch them from, eh? Off some poor beggar’s grave in the churchyard?’

‘Get out of me way. The missis’ll have me tea ready.’

‘She will, will she? She’ll have a job. She’s in hospital.’

‘Eh?’ To Bessie’s satisfaction, the man had the grace to look startled and even a little afraid. ‘What’s up with her?’

Bessie let out a wry, humourless laugh as she felt, rather than saw, Bert and two of her sons appear and come to stand behind her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Minnie and Stan Eccleshall emerge from their house across the yard, to be joined by their neighbours, Gladys Merryweather and her husband, Walter. And Phyllis Horberry, never one to miss a bit of drama, peered out from her half-open door.

‘What’s up?’ Bessie raised her voice so that it was loud enough for the whole yard to hear. ‘You have the gall to ask, “what’s up?” ’

Sid Clark shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, glancing around him at the watching faces, but Bessie continued without pity. ‘She’s black and blue from head to foot, Sid Clark, and her arm’s broken. That’s what’s up.’

There was a murmuring around the yard like a cool breeze of disapproval and the Eccleshalls and the Merryweathers moved closer.

Sid dropped the flowers to the ground and stepped back, glancing fearfully about him. Bessie stepped towards him and wagged her forefinger in his face. ‘Now listen here, you. It’s got to stop. While you live in this yard, you don’t lay another finger on her, you hear? Else you’ll get a taste of your own medicine.’

Sid glared at her and then, with a sudden movement, dodged around Bessie and made for his own door.

‘Oh,’ Bessie shouted after him, almost as an afterthought but in fact it was calculated as a barbed parting shot. ‘If you’re interested where your daughter is, she’s in our house. And that’s where she’s staying till her mam gets home. And even then, well, we’ll see, won’t we?’

From the doorway of his own home, the man turned and, feeling safer now, sneered. ‘Yer welcome to the little bitch. Yer can keep her as far as I’m concerned.’

He slammed the door and Bessie heard the key turn in the lock.

‘Aye, you lock yasen in, Sid Clark,’ she bellowed. ‘That’s the only place you’re going to be safe from now on, and even then, I wouldn’t be too sure, if I was you.’

Dan returned home late that same night.

‘I hope you don’t mind, lad,’ Bessie said, almost as soon as he stepped through the door, ‘but I’ve put that little lass in your bed.’ Then she explained to him what had been happening during his absence.

‘’Course I don’t, Mam. I’ll sleep on the couch tonight. It’s only for one night anyway. We’ll be off again on tomorrow afternoon’s tide.’

‘It might be a bit longer than that,’ Bessie pulled a wry face. ‘I daren’t let her go home until her mam’s out of the hospital.’

Dan shrugged his broad shoulders and smiled at his mother’s anxious face. ‘I don’t mind. When I’m home for a longer stretch while she’s here, me and the lads can play musical beds and all take turns on the couch.’

Bessie nodded, relieved. ‘You’re a good ’un, Dan. You all are. I just can’t let mesen send her back to be on her own with ’im.’

Dan patted her round cheek with a display of affection. ‘And you’re the best of us, Mam. You and that big heart of yours.’

‘Go on with you.’ Bessie smacked his hand away playfully, but the flush on her face showed her pleasure at his compliment.

The following morning, Mary Ann was up early and much to Bessie’s surprise and delight was soon trotting back and forth between the back scullery and the kitchen carrying the plates from Bessie to the table for the men’s breakfast. Then, when all were tucking in to bacon, egg and fried bread, Mary Ann stood beside Dan’s chair watching him eat.

‘Aren’t you going to sit down and have some breakfast, love?’ he asked.

Mary Ann nodded and pulled her chair close to his. She looked at him coyly out of the corners of her eyes and then reached out to take a piece of bacon from his plate.

‘Oi, I didn’t mean take mine,’ he laughed, amused by her audacity.

Bessie appeared from the scullery, carrying two more plates. ‘What’s going on?’

‘She’s nicking our Dan’s breakfast,’ Duggie spluttered.

Bessie placed a plate of food in front of Mary Ann. ‘There’s no need for that, lass. Here’s yours.’ Then she sat down herself and picked up her knife and fork.

But Dan only grinned and winked at the young girl, to be rewarded with the most dazzling smile that Bessie had seen from her yet, the dimples in her cheeks deepening prettily.

By heck, Bessie thought, she’s going to be a stunner, this one, when she’s older. She’ll break a few hearts before she’s done. Just as long as it isn’t one of my lads. Aloud, she said, ‘Eat up, love, time you were setting off for school. Give my love to Miss Edwina if you see her.’

The brown eyes widened. ‘Aren’t you going to take me?’

‘You know the way. You’re big enough to go on your own.’

Mary Ann’s lower lip trembled. ‘I’ll get lost.’

‘No, you won’t,’ Bessie said, gently but firmly. ‘You turn left at the end of our alley on to River Road and keep going until you get nearly to the bridge and it’s the big red house with the white pillars on the right hand side of the road.’

‘It’s all right, Mam, I’ll walk along with her. I’m going to see Susan.’

Bessie sniffed. ‘Think I was found under a Christmas tree, lad? That’s in the opposite direction.’

‘Who’s Susan?’ Mary Ann asked at once.

‘She’s his young lady,’ Duggie volunteered. ‘They’re walking out together.’

‘Are you going to marry her?’ The question was a natural one, yet to Bessie’s knowing ears, there was a sharp edge to the girl’s tone. Poor bairn, the older woman thought, her view of marriage can’t be a happy one. Maybe, she thought, while she stays in this house, we can show her a different kind of family life.

‘He’ll be daft if he doesn’t,’ Duggie said, tapping the side of his nose and winking. ‘Her father owns the ship he works on.’

‘Now, Duggie, you young scallywag, don’t go putting ideas into the bairn’s mind that aren’t true,’ Bessie scolded. ‘Susan’s a lovely girl and our Dan wouldn’t go marrying someone he wasn’t in love with. ’Sides, there’s some might think it was a disadvantage marrying your boss’s daughter.’

Dan grinned good-naturedly at his brother and punched him lightly on the shoulder.

Bert rose from the table. ‘Well, Bessie, light of my life, much as I’d like to stay home with you all day, I’d better get myself off to work.’

Heaving herself up from her chair, she fetched her husband’s jacket and scarf and held it for him to slip his arms into the sleeves. Tenderly, she wrapped the muffler around his neck. Then she planted a loud kiss full on his mouth. At once Bert responded: his hands resting on her well-rounded hips, he kissed her in return. ‘Bye bye, my angel. Be a good girl . . .’ he chuckled. ‘At least till I get home.’

‘Oho,’ Bessie patted him playfully on the cheek. ‘Chance’d be a fine thing, with all the work I’ve got to do looking after you lot.’

The young men were used to this kind of affection between their parents, but Mary Ann was staring open-mouthed at the older couple, and her astonishment grew as all three sons also kissed their mother before leaving the house themselves to go to their various occupations. Even at her tender age and despite her unfortunate home circumstances, Mary Ann could see that it was not an action made out of duty, but given with true affection. Close on Dan’s heels as he made to leave the house, she too stopped in front of Bessie, threw her arms around her and pressed her face into Bessie’s bosom.

Bessie stroked the girl’s hair, but instead of silkiness, Bessie felt it thick with dirt and grease. She cupped Mary Ann’s face in her hands and kissed her forehead. ‘We’ll wash your hair tonight, love. I’ve some lovely shampoo you can have a bit of. It’ll make it ever so pretty. Off you go now with Dan. You’ll be all right walking home on your own tonight, won’t you?’

For a moment, Mary Ann’s eyes clouded but then she nodded. As Bessie watched them go and heard their footsteps echoing down the alley, she heard Mary Ann’s high-pitched voice chattering to Dan.

Suddenly and with pleasant surprise, Bessie realized that not once that morning had she noticed the child with her thumb in her mouth.

‘You didn’t get lost then?’ Bessie greeted Mary Ann when she appeared in the yard late in the afternoon. ‘Here, you can make yasen useful. Put these pegs in the peg bag for me while I get this washing in. We’re going to give you a nice bath and wash your hair before the menfolk come home. And then,’ she added hastily as she saw the doubt in the girl’s eyes, ‘I’ve got a present for you.’

‘A present for me? What is it?’

‘Ah, now you’ll have to wait and see.’

Bessie bundled more of Amy Hamilton’s sheets and pillowcases into her basket and picked it up. Earlier in the day Bessie had had to coax Amy out of her bed once more. Helping her to wash and dress, Bessie had discovered a bundle of dirty bed linen stuffed into the bottom of a wardrobe.

‘I don’t know,’ she grumbled to Mary Ann now, but without any real grudge, ‘I seem to be doing nowt but wash this week. Come on, lass. I can iron these later.’

A little later, as she knelt beside the tin bath in front of the fire, it also crossed Bessie’s mind that she had not bathed so many people in one week since her boys had been little.

‘What did you do at school today?’ Bessie asked as she lathered Mary Ann’s hair, massaging the child’s scalp with her strong fingers.

‘Miss Edwina’s learning me ’broidery.’

‘Is she now? That’s nice. Miss Edwina does lovely embroidery. I’ll tek you to the church some time and show you the altar cloth she’s done. It’s beautiful. There now, bend your head while I pour this jug of clean water over you to rinse off the soap.’

As she stood before the fire, submitting herself to Bessie’s vigorous towelling until her skin glowed, Mary Ann asked, ‘Where’s me present then?’

‘There on the fireguard. I thought you’d have noticed by now. Not very observant, are you?’

The girl twisted round to look at the clothes warming on the fireguard. Undergarments and a blue cotton dress with smocking at the neck.

‘I did see them,’ Mary Ann said, ‘but I didn’t think they were for me.’

Bessie laughed. ‘Well, I don’t think I could squeeze into them, do you?’

Mary Ann put her arms round the woman’s neck as Bessie knelt on the peg rug and kissed her cheek. The towel slipped from her naked body and Bessie was pleased to see that, whilst she was thin, the girl’s skin was a healthy colour and her body firm and supple.