The Urchin's Song (21 page)

He hadn’t been down into the bowels of hell then, being in his last year at school, but within the year he had known he couldn’t agree with Amos. Nothing,
nothing
was as bad as that netherworld. The panic and fear he’d felt as he’d descended in the cage on the first day he’d gone down, and the physical reaction of his body, had made him feel as though he was dying. He’d stood it nigh on a week, passing out three times in the process, until the day when - according to his da because he couldn’t remember anything for a full twenty-four hours - he’d not come round. They’d got him up top and called the quack, and Dr Winter had diagnosed claustrophobia. An abnormal fear of confined places, the good doctor had told his da. But his da had only heard the word ‘fear’, nothing else. From that day on, Frank had never looked at him without the shame and disappointment showing in his face.

Whisht.
Barney shut his eyes for a second, angry with himself for thinking the way he was. None of that mattered and now was not the time to think about it. He’d come to terms with how his da saw him years ago. It was being here within sight and sound of Josie that had him thinking this way, because at the back of his mind he’d wondered for years now how
she
saw him. Did she think he was a coward, a weakling for not mastering his fear and following his da and brothers down the pit? She hadn’t seemed to, when he’d first confided in her before he was married, but she’d been nowt but a bairn then and bairns accepted things adults questioned. She must know he got the job at Ginnett’s through Pearl’s family. Did she despise him for that as well?

He glanced across the room and at the same moment Josie turned her head slightly and met his gaze, her eyes sympathetic at the tragedy which had befallen the family. Their gaze held for a moment before she looked away, but it was the expression on her face which stayed with him as he half listened to the others talking. Josie and Gertie had stayed with his family probably a year in all, but Pearl had known the Robsons since she was a little bairn, and had been made welcome in his da’s home for that long. As a child she’d fairly lived in their house, having tea with them all, tagging along with Prudence when he and his brothers let the two lasses join the lads; she’d even called Betty and his da Aunty and Uncle for a time. And yet she’d had a job to say she was sorry about his da. Aye, she had. And it hadn’t rung true when she had managed to force the words out. And yet Josie had looked as though she was heartsore for them all.

By, he’d been a fool to ask for Pearl. Why hadn’t he seen what she was really like afore they were wed? But he had thought he knew her, that was the thing. In fact he’d have bet his life he knew her inside out, but it just showed. Aye, it showed all right. Living with someone was a darn sight different to Sunday tea at her parents’ house or visiting in the evening and sitting on the sofa with her parents fluttering in and out. Even when they’d joined the other courting couples for the ritual walk round the park when it was fine, or tea at one of the tea houses in town when it was wet, it had all been artificial. Aye, that was the word. Artificial.

He’d looked at Pearl and he’d seen the pretty, petite, smiling lass she’d wanted him to see, but beneath the sweet face and childish manner had been a cast-iron selfish woman who was a replica of her mother. And now, when she acted girlish and skittish in front of other people it had the effect of making him feel sick.

He hadn’t thought she’d like the intimate side of marriage; women didn’t, did they, but he’d told himself if he was gentle and patient to start with she’d come round eventually. Come round! The thought was bitter. But it wasn’t even that she made him feel like some sort of depraved debauché if he so much as touched her; he might have been able to cope with the lack of physical love if everything else was all right. No, it was the cold-blooded alienation from his family she’d set out to achieve from day one; the nagging from morning to night and the fierce, even obsessional desire she had to climb socially. She consulted with her mother about everything before she talked to him; she insisted on seeing to the finances and gave him pocket money like a bairn - or she had done until this last year when he’d suddenly realised he was daft, mental to put up with it. He’d put his foot down then with the result that they’d had a bitter exchange of words and he had moved into one of the spare bedrooms.

Strangely, in a funny sort of a way, it had been a relief to physically remove himself from her. Ever since they had been married she had insisted he eat his main meal of the day at a café near his place of work, refusing, as she put it, to slave over a hot stove just for the two of them. His evening meal would invariably be cold meat and cheese, even the bread was shop bought, and very often she was out when he got home. At her mother’s. The only time they really ate together was when she invited friends round for what she liked to call dinner-parties. Her friends, not his. So all in all, the physical removal of himself from the faint possibility of any bodily contact had just been the final nail in the coffin of their relationship.

He often wondered these days how many other couples lived separate lives once the front door was shut and they were alone. More than he’d ever dreamed of before he was wed, he’d bet. He knew now he’d been a young lad still wet behind the ears when he’d got married - gormless and as naive as they come with regard to women. But then unless you went with a lass who’d got a bit of a name for herself - and who’d want to be seen out with a girl like that? - there was no other option.

‘. . . if that’s all right, Barney?’

The sound of his name jerked him out of the black morass of his thoughts and he spoke quietly, saying, ‘I’m sorry, Vera?’

‘I asked if it’s all right if I come back with you an’ Amos today? Horace is on the mend after that fall on the ice, he went back to work the day, an’ the lassies’ll see to his meals. I’d like to see our Bett through the funeral if nowt else.’

‘Of course it’s all right, we expected nothing else. It’s one of the reasons I accompanied Amos when he said he was coming, me having the use of Pearl’s uncle’s carriage. It’ll make it easier with whatever luggage you want to bring with you. Your place is with your sister at a time like this and I know Betty is longing to see you.’

‘Aye, I’d like to see her through the worst,’ Vera repeated somewhat dazedly. By, for this to happen now. She’d been wondering about looking for work now Shirley was gone, but had decided to stay her hand until Josie had finished at the Avenue and the Palace so she could see a bit of the lass while she was here. They had said they’d have her back at the corn mill, and after the last few years of looking to Shirley’s every need, she would go stark staring barmy if she sat on her backside all day. She had given up her job at the mill within a few months of her old friend moving in, recognising there was going to be a period of intensive nursing involved, and she’d been glad to do it. Mind, with what Josie had insisted on sending she’d been better off than working.

The last thought prompted her to rise, saying, ‘I’ll just go an’ pull me things together then. You lads help yourself to a bit more gingerbread an’ jam roll, now then, else I’ll think I’m losin’ me touch. Josie, come with me, lass, an’ I’ll fill you in as to what wants doin’ while I’m gone.’

However, once the two women were in Vera’s bedroom, Vera said softly, in what could be termed a conspiratorial whisper, ‘Look, lass, I don’t know how long I’ll be with our Bett or what’s goin’ to happen about the house an’ everythin’. I can’t see Bett managin’ the rent an’ all on her own with her lot to feed an’ clothe.’

Josie nodded. There had been three more additions to the family in the last four years - two boys and a girl - and with the twins only ten years old, things looked bad.

‘It’ll take a while to sort out what’s what, but I’m goin’ to stay until things are settled one way or t’other, an’ then I might be bringin’ the whole lot of ’em back here from where I’m lookin’, it bein’ a tied house an’ all. Anyway, we’ll cross that bridge later, hinny, but afore I go I want to give you this.’

Vera had been rummaging in the blanket box tucked away in a corner of the room while she spoke, and now she pulled out a small cloth bag which she thrust at Josie.

‘What . . .’ The bag was heavy, and Josie stared in amazement at the notes and coins it contained. ‘Vera, what’s this? Where has all this come from?’

‘You, lass.’ Vera smiled at her. She hadn’t intended to give Josie her money in these circumstances, she’d had it planned quite differently, but needs must. ‘I told you in the beginnin’ me an’ Horace didn’t want to make owt on havin’ your mam, but you wouldn’t have it. So I thought if it made you feel better I’d take the money you sent an’ put it away until . . .’ Vera paused; she’d almost said, ‘until your mam was gone’ ‘. . . until the situation was different. There’s nearly sixty pounds there, mounted up over the last years, an’ that’s with us havin’ the money for your mam’s medicines an’ the doctor, an’ a bit besides, enough to carry on like when I was workin’ at the mill. But we don’t want this extra, hinny, we really don’t. If we can’t help each other out as we walk this road it’s a poor do. An’ Horace sees it same as me, afore you ask. We never had no bairns of our own an’ we both see you as ours. I know there’s bin times when you’ve gone without to send your mam’s money, an’ only the thought of this day has helped me sleep nights.’

Josie was beyond words. She stood quite still, the bag held in her hands, and stared open-mouthed into the smiling face of this woman she loved so much. Not as a mother, although that was part of the feeling she had for Vera, but it was wider than that. Vera was mother, friend, confidante, ally, advocate - oh, a million and one things, and all of them precious.

‘Vera, I can’t. I can’t.’

‘Aye, you can, if you want to please me, lass.’

‘But it’s too much.’

‘It’s yours, lass. I’m only givin’ you back what’s yours, what I’ve been holdin’ for you if you care to look at it like that. It’s four years’ hard graft an’ you know it.’

What had she ever done to deserve being loved like this? Josie’s eyes were large and dark with the force of her feelings. ‘Vera, I don’t know what I’d do without you, and I don’t mean because of this,’ she added, flicking her head at the money. ‘I do love you.’

‘Go on with you.’ Vera flapped her hand, evidently embarrassed. Josie was always ready to put her thoughts into words in a way no one else would dream of doing. They might think it but they wouldn’t say it. You just didn’t. But then the theatre was like that, she supposed. Them sort of people were different, people with a gift. And her lass had a gift, all right. ‘Put it away with your things an’ let’s hear no more about it.’

‘Vera, you’ll never know what this means, and I appreciate it from the depths of my heart,’ Josie said, causing the older woman to blink rapidly and shake her head, ‘and I agree with you it’s a poor do if we can’t help each other out. So with that in mind I want you to take this to Betty.’

‘Bett? Oh no, no, lass.’

‘Please. You know how things are. She won’t get much from the colliery and the union will only help out so much, and it will be at least another three or four years until the twins can work full-time, even if they get something after school and on a Saturday in the meantime. She could buy one of those three-roomed cottages on the West Side with this if she puts it with the bit she’ll likely get from the colliery.’ Josie was warming to her theme. ‘I’m sure Barney and the others will try and help out a bit as best they can, but things are going to be tight for all of them with Reg and Neville off.’ She had been there herself in the old days; you missed one week’s rent and then another, and before you knew it the debt was huge. Oh yes, she could remember times when her da had drunk or gambled away every last penny they’d had, and the soul-destroying visits to the pawnshop with anything that wasn’t nailed down would stay with her for ever.

The last thought created a sense of urgency flavoured with deep compassion, and she said, ‘Vera, you know what this would mean to Betty, and her with nine bairns. And it’s not really mine anyway, it’s yours. It is, it’s yours.’

‘Oh, lass.’ A quiver passed over Vera’s face and she looked down at her feet bewilderedly. They were killing her the day; her ankles overflowing the tops of her heavy black shoes. And then she caught herself sharply. What did her feet matter, for crying out loud! She raised her eyes again, but she had only said, ‘This isn’t right,’ before Josie interrupted her, her voice eager.

‘It is, Vera. It is right, and you know it at heart. What would Gertie and me have done if you hadn’t taken us to Betty’s that day? And she welcomed us with open arms, her and Frank. I owe them more than I can ever repay.’

‘But what will
you
do, hinny?’ Vera was finding it hard to take in the turn-around. ‘You need new stage costumes, shoes an’ hats an’ all - Gertie was saying. An’--’

‘What’s that compared to Betty’s need?’

The truth was unarguable, but Vera had one last try. ‘But I wanted
you
to have it.’

‘And I’ve taken it, and now I’m giving it to you to give to Betty,’ Josie said softly. She couldn’t say she didn’t want the money; it would sound like the height of ingratitude and she didn’t mean it like that, but the truth of the matter was that she
didn’t
want it. It was Vera’s first and foremost, but her mam’s too in a funny sort of way. It might be a small fortune but no, she didn’t want it.

‘Aye, well, I know you when you make up your mind about somethin’.’ Vera sighed. ‘An’ I can’t say I won’t look forward to seein’ Bett’s face when I give her it. By, you’re a one.’ Her face was comical. ‘I dunno whether to smack your backside or hug you, lass, an’ that’s a fact.’

‘I’m too big for the first so it’d better be the second, Vera.’

 

The two men hadn’t touched the gingerbread or jam roll when Josie and Vera came downstairs, and it didn’t seem as if they had been conversing either. Each was sitting with their hands on their knees, and they seemed awkward and ill at ease.