Hannah massey (25 page)

"Let's have a bite to eat." Hannah was shouting now as if they were all in another room.

"I'm as hungry as a hunter. Oh God, oh God, I wish it wasn't Friday so I could have a shive of meat. But there's cheese and pickles and cold fish in the pantry. Go on, fetch them out, Broderick; you're steadier on your pins than me, man."

"That I am, that I am. You can't carry it, girl, that's your trouble,"

said Broderick.

"Come on, Rosie. Let's see what we can rake up." He held out his arms to her.

In the quiet of the kitchen, his arm still about her, Broderick

attempted to focus his wavering gaze on his daughter, and he asked gently, "Are you all right, me girl, arc you all right? It's quiet you are."

"Yes, I'm all right, Da. Yes, come on." She turned from him.

"Let's get the things."

As they went back to the living-room with the food on a tray, Broderick waving a jar of pickles in each hand, the others came in the front Way.

They were headed by Shane, and as soon as Rosie looked at them and found their gaze directed pointedly towards her she knew that she had been under discussion.

But if the lads were not their usual rowdy Friday night selves, it went unnoticed, because Hannah and Broderick kept up an exchange of quips that evoked their own laughter, and all the while Broderick hung on to Rosie, protesting against her wanting to break up the party and go to bed.

It was nearly an hour later, when Jimmy and Shane were making for

upstairs, that the front bell rang. It silenced them all for a moment, and Hannah looking about her said, "Who can it be at this time of night? You did say Karen was in, didn't you, Arthur?"

"Aye, I saw her coming out of the bathroom."

"See who it is. Jimmy. See who it is." Hannah made the request while Jimmy was already on his way to the door.

"Perhaps old Watson's bad next door." Shane jerked his head to the wall.

"Aw, she would have knocked through if that had been the case," said

"Perhaps old Ma Parkman can't get to sleep for us laughin', an' she's come to complain again."

"Begod! If she has it'll be the last time, for I'll spit in her eye and christen her Paddy.... But whist! Whist! What's that?"

When they all became silent a voice came from the hall, crying, "I want to see her."

"It's MacFarlane!" All eyes in the room said it, and Hannah looked quickly towards Rosie where she was standing at the end of the table one hand holding her throat. Then as Jimmy's voice came to them,

shouting, "Look, get yourself to hell out of here unless you're asking'

for trouble!" they all, with the exception of Rosie, moved towards the hall, and there wasn't a steady gait among them.

Now Ronnie's voice, thick and fuddled, rose above all the exclamations, crying, "I'll... I'll take you on ... but one at a time, if you're men enough to do one at a time. An' after I've finished with you all I'll see her. But see her I will."

"Is is mad you are, Ronnie MacFarlane, disturbing a respectable household at this hour of the night?" Hannah was bawling.

"Get yourself home and to your wife. Aye, to your wife who at this minute might be bringin' a soul into the world. It's ashamed of

yourself you should be."

"Ashamed? Me? Huh!"

The huh! was cut short by Shane.

"Are you goin' to get out," he cried, "or do you want your bloody teeth knocked in?"

"Knock me teeth in, will you? Let me tell you, lad, it won't be like last time. I've come prepared." ^ There was a pause; and then Broderick's voice, saying, "Knuckledusters, be god That's a low trick, Ronnie. Now look, we want no trouble; get yourself away, man."

"You dirty sod!" It was Hannah again; and quick as lightning Ronnie answered her.

"Dirty'sod, am I? You call me a dirty sod, Hannah Massey? With a daughter like you've got, you call me a dirty sod?"

"Shut your bloody mouth and get out!"

As Jimmy's voice came to Rosie she groped blindly, at a chair and sat down. And she held her face in her hands as Ronnie cried, "Come a step nearer an' I'll let you hev it right at ween the eyes. You all know, don't you? You all know what she is. That's why you're scared bloody stiff. But perhaps your dear ma doesn't know. No, perhaps she

doesn't.

You'd be frightened to tell your ma, lads, wouldn't you? But I'll tell her. "

"Get him out!" It was Shane yelling.

"Hold your hand... I'm warning you!" The voice was like thunder.

"Mind it! Mind it! Afore this fist splits your face open. No, the lot of you big sods 'll not shut me mouth. I wasn't good enough for your Rosie, was I, Hannah Massey? I mustn't touch her. An' be god I wouldn't now if you paid me, for she's a whore! An' she's been workin'

under a whore master for the last three months with that tart in the bl..."

As the house vibrated to the screams and shouts and the thuds of blows, Rosie put her hands over her ears, and, drop MASSEY

ping her face down to the table, she moved it back and forward in

agony. Then her head was brought up to see Karen by the table shouting

"What's the matter? What's it all about?" When she looked at her for a moment before dropping her head again, Karen ran back towards the hall but it was empty now.

Outside Jimmy and Shane and Ronnie were tangled up on the icy road, while Arthur and Bamy, trying to separate them, were involved in the blows. And as Hannah, at the bottom of the steps hanging on to

Frederick, screamed unintelligibly, light after light appeared in the windows of the houses up and down the street.

The Parkmans and the Watsons were at their open doors, and now Bob MacFarlane came rushing down his steps buttoning up his trousers and shouting, while Jessie followed him, hugging her fur coat over her nightdress.

The light from the Batemans' front door across the road streamed on to the huddle of men. The Batemans had never been on speaking terms with the Masseys, they considered that the whole family was out of its

element living in Grosvenor Road, and now Mr. Bateman did what he had wanted to do for a long time, he phoned the police.

When the patrol car, which must have been in the vicinity, came

whisking down the street and two policemen joined the melee, Hannah's loud voice was stilled for a moment and she staggered back against the stone pillar of the gate, exclaiming in a whisper, "No! No! Jesus, Mary and Joseph."

Mr. MacFarlane was now aiding the police, as was Mr. Bateman, and

when the combatants were separated it was hard to tell which was Ronnie or Jimmy or Shanc. The only difference bet well them was that one of them lay still on the ground, and Mr. MacFarlane, recognizing his own, lifted the bloodstained head, shouting, "Ronnie! Ronnie!"

The policeman now' spoke to Mr. Bateman, and once again Mr. Bateman was pleased to go to his phone.

At this point Jimmy went to tug himself from the policeman's hold. He didn't like policemen.

"Leave go of me!" He felt fighting mad now, and when he found he was still being held he lashed out with his other arm, and the policeman, losing his balance on the slippery road, fell on his back. He wasn't down for more than a second, and when he got to his feet again his companion came to his aid and they advanced on Jimmy. Shane, standing swaying on the kerb, was in a bad way, but not so bad that he was going to let the "bloody polis" get at their Jimmy.

Once again there was a melee in the road, and now Hannah was only

restrained by Broderick from joining in, but her voice soared above all the sound, screaming at her brood to give over, to give over. She did not recognize the police van as such until it stopped almost at her feet, and when she did the disgrace cut off her voice and there was nothing left in her but a whimper which said, "The Black Maria!

The Black Maria! " The Blade Maria had come for her sons.

The road seemed full of policemen now, and they were bundling her lads into the van. Bamy went in protesting, "I've done nowt, I've done nowt. Leave me go, I tried to stop them. I've done nowt. Me an'

Arthur's done nowt."

He gripped at the side of the van door and, putting his head back on his shoulders, he strained to look at Hannah, where she was being held in his father's arms, and he cried to her, "Ma! Ma!" before being pushed forward.

They did not put Ronnie MacFarlane into the van, but into an ambulance.

His father was allowed to go with him, but his mother stood on the pavement hugging the coat around her shivering body, and as the police van and the ambulance drove away, one after the. other, she turned and looked towards Hannah. And Hannah looked back at her, and neither of them spoke.

Broderick, his face wearing an utterly stricken look now, turned Hannah about and led her up the steps and into the hall;

and of a sudden Hannah's legs gave way beneath her and she would have fallen to the floor had not Karen pushed the hall chair forward,

"Almighty God! Almighty God!" Hannah moved her head in a slow wide sweep.

"Me sons, every one of them, taken to jail. Me lads." She looked up at Broderick.

"What's happened to us? What's happened, I ask you, that me sons...

What's to be done?" She stared at him wildly.

"They ... they can get bail, I think, sort... sort of," Broderick stammered.

"I... I'd better go and get D ... Dennis."

"Dennis? No! No! Begod, no!" The name seemed to rouse her back to normality.

"I'll have to, woman. He's got a head on his shoulders, he'll know what to do better than me or any of us. You'd rather have that thah they'd be kept in jail, wouldn't you now?" He bent towards her.

"I'll put on me coat and get a car and I'll be there in a few minutes.

Now stay quiet." He turned to Karen.

"See to your grannie, that's a good girl, see to your grannie." He did not go into the living-room or mention Rosie's name, but lifting his coat from the hall-stand and not bothering about his muffler or cap, he slunk out of his front door like a thief in the night, and Hannah was left sitting looking at Karen. She looked at her for some minutes

before she said, "Go on up to your bed."

"No, I'll stay with you. Me grand da ..."

"I've told you ... go to bed. I'm all right."

"But..."

"Did you hear me?" It was the old Hannah speaking, and hearing her, Karen saw no need to worry, at least about her grannie's condition.

Shrugging her shoulders, she crossed the hall, glancing into the

living-room before she mounted the stairs.

Hannah continued to sit on in the cold hall, and as she sat she looked about her. She looked towards the door of her front room, and through the heavy panels she could see every article of the fine furniture that adorned the room. She looked at the bright red-and-green-patterned stair carpet. She looked down at the rug on the hall floor; it had a two-inch fringe on it. She could have got the same rug without the fringe for four pounds less, but she liked the fringe, it gave an air of quality to the rug. And lastly, she turned her eyes towards the open door of the living-room, and she kept them there until she pulled herself to her feet and advanced slowly towards it.

When she entered the room she saw Rosie sitting at the top end of the table, her face as white as a corpse, her eyes staring out of her head; and as she went towards her she saw her rise to her feet and then back towards the wall. And she followed her until she could touch her with her outstretched arm. But she didn't touch her, she just stood looking at her. And then she began to speak, her voice quiet.

She said, "It's true, isn't it? It's true what he said, that you're a whore?"

"No. no." Rosie moved her head--it was tight back against the wall, her chin up--not in defiance, but in fear.

"He said you were a whore, and you lived with a whore master for three months."

"I wasn't, I wasn't. I lived with him ... I didn't know...." Her head was moving in a tormented, desperate fashion.

Hannah made a movement with her hand that said, "Say no more" , ami she went on, "I wondered who you reminded me of when you stepped into the house a week ago this night with your skin-fit skirt and your short waist jumper that pushed out your breasts like balloons. I wondered then. But who, I ask you, but somebody with the mind of the devil

would have put the tab on you.

An' that piece that Ronnie was talkin' to standin' at the bar, that was her he meant. your pal! It was her you were with, wasn't it, when you disappeared during the evening? And then the story you told me 'the night you came back. There wasn't a word of truth in it, was there?

"

"Ma... Ma." Rosie's head was still moving, and now her eyes were closed and the tears raining from beneath her lids.

"I didn't know, I didn't know."

"You didn't know you were a prostitute?"

"I wasn't, I never was."

"Did you live with a whore master?"

"I didn't know he was, I didn't know, I swear by our Lady...."

"Quiet! Quiet!" Now Hannah's voice had changed and it came as a deep growl from her throat.

"Don't dare soil her name with your lips.... You tell me out of your own mouth that you lived with this man, and for your companions you had pieces like that one the night, an' you tell me you know nothin' about whoring? I wasn't born yesterday, girl, at least not all of me." She shook her head until her coiled hair became loose and a strand fell down on to her shoulder.

"Only the part that believed in you; you the shining light of me life, me daughter Rosie. I always held me head high when I mentioned me

daughter Rosie.

They used to laugh behind me back. the neighbours. Oh, I knew. I

knew. But when they saw you with their own eyes they thought, She's right. She's right. Her Rosie's a lady if ever there was one. An'

those that didn't think along those lines I sensed it, and plugged you at them until they did. Until they knew that Hannah Massey's daughter, Rosie, was a somebody. Aye, be god Her voice dropped now and her mouth fell agape before she went on, "A somebody! A London street whore, a strumpet. Can you hear them? Can you hear them laughin', Rosie?" It was a question.