Keepsake (15 page)

But once the water was heated and transported jug by jug between them, there was fun to be had in the tin bath, and, tucked up in bed, a beautiful naked wife at his side, Marty could afford to be magnanimous. ‘I suppose we’d have had to clean it anyway. I can’t abide other people’s muck.’ Exhausted but happy, he kissed and stroked her and spoke of his plans for the morrow. ‘I’m taking a day off and we’ll go buy a table and chairs, maybe a chest of drawers –’

‘And a carpet?’ Etta made a sudden clutch at his bare ribs making him jump and squirm laughingly.

‘Agh, don’t tickle! Well, maybe a small little rug. I know a fella who runs a second-hand shop, we’ll get heaps for our money there.’

Etta squeezed him again lovingly, projecting her joy. ‘Oh, we’re going to be so happy here. I know it.’

Throughout Saturday there was to be further hard work. Whilst Marty went about household repairs, Etta slipped into town to visit the market. Returning laden at midday, head in the clouds at the joy of having Marty to herself all day and consumed by exciting plans, she failed to hear a greeting from one of her neighbours and went straight indoors without reply.

‘The snotty bloody cow!’ The one who had been rebuffed marched back inside to address her husband. ‘Did you see that? She cut me dead!’ And within seconds this was to be relayed to every other household in the courtyard. ‘I knew she’d be like that. Why’s she living round here in the first place, that’s what I want to know? Dressed up like a dog’s dinner and talking with a plum in her gob, thinking she’s better than us…’

Etta was oblivious to this slander, too involved in showing Marty her latest discovery. ‘Look what I’ve found!’ She held up a tin of meat. ‘Isn’t this a boon? I didn’t know such a thing existed.’

He smiled. ‘Grand – did ye get the ducks? I tell ye, I’m ready for me dinner.’

She beheld him dubiously. ‘Marty, I don’t know who informed you that one could buy a duck for a penny but I’ve been all around the livestock market and –’

He burst out laughing. ‘Sure, I didn’t mean
real
ducks! I meant those square, faggoty things ye get for a penny.’

‘Oh!’ She hooted with embarrassment. ‘I’m such a juggins…’

‘No, you’re not!’ He soothed her with a smile.

‘Well,’ she announced, still laughing as she put aside the tin, ‘we might not have ducks but we shall have our own eggs – in time.’ And, from a box, with gentle hands she scooped two fluffy yellow chicks that peeped anxiously as she set one on each of her feet, where they were to remain like pom-poms as she paraded them for Marty’s amusement.

As if adopting Etta as their mother, the chicks were even to travel on her slippers as she went to the privy and back, which again attracted much ridicule from her neighbours.

Wrapped up in her own little world, Etta was to spare nary a thought for this gossip, and though Marty thought he detected a less than friendly response to his own greeting to a neighbour when he went out to fetch a celebratory jug
of ale at the end of the day, he was too tired and happy with Etta to care.

Alas, by Sunday morn the chicks had been devoured by a predator, leaving only a few telltale downy feathers in the yard. But there was no point in dwelling on this, with other matters taking precedence. With the windows cleaned, curtains affixed, the fireplace black-leaded, lino and a rug on the floor and food in the cupboard under the stairs, Etta now felt able to make that invitation to her parents-in-law. From his friend at the second-hand shop Marty had purchased a whole box of crockery for a few pence, much of it matching so that it appeared to be a set, although it wasn’t. Some of the saucers were chipped but the cups would be perfectly all right once the thick veneer of tannin was removed. Anxious to impress her mother-in-law, Etta wondered aloud how to get it off. Marty didn’t know and so she relied upon a box of crystals that had successfully removed other engrained filth and employed them to great success. By the time her guests arrived the table was set with a white cloth and crockery that was just as spotless. Now that she had an oven she had also managed to bake a cake, though it had taken much practice and the one that took pride of place was not her first effort. Wisely she had steered clear of making bread for the sandwiches, for which the basic ingredients had been purchased from the shop.

Nevertheless, Aggie was to pass compliment as she handed over some buns in a paper bag. ‘I brought you these though I can see you don’t need them. My, this all looks very inviting, that cake especially.’

‘Thank you, but you’re responsible, it’s from your own receipt.’ Etta’s reply was modest, though she felt immensely proud of herself as she poured tea for everyone and smiled at Marty, who winked back at her.

There was compliment over the cups too. ‘Lovely china, isn’t it, Red?’ murmured Aggie, and took a sip, at which her face changed slightly.

Thinking she might be mistaken, she did not immediately remark on the contents and tasted the tea again to make sure. Her husband and uncle looked at each other suspiciously.

But Marty gagged and pulled a face, blurting, ‘Jesus, Ett, what the hell did you use to clean them?’

Stricken, Etta took a sip from her own cup, casting an agonised look at him before admitting, ‘Borax.’

‘I think you forgot to rinse them out, dear.’ Mouth pursed in distaste, Aggie grabbed the cup from her husband who had been trying to remain polite and, needlessly warning the others not to swallow another drop, she put herself in charge, collected the rest and tipped the contents outside down the drain.

Guilty over his rash outburst, Marty tried to make a joke of it, but, annoyed at being made to feel stupid, Etta retorted stiffly, ‘I did rinse them. Anybody would think I was trying to poison you.’

‘Ach, we didn’t think that, deary, these things happen.’ Red murmured words of comfort and along with the others tried to rid himself of the vile taste by tucking into the sandwiches and saying how good they were, but for Etta the afternoon had been ruined. She could not wait for the guests to leave and was to voice her upset the moment they did, berating Marty in harsh manner:

‘Did you have to make such a fuss about it?’

‘Sorry, sorry!’ He hauled her into an embrace, plastering her with conciliatory kisses until she began to lose her scowl. ‘’Twas unforgivable, I’m just a blasted eejit who says the first thing that comes into me head, please forgive me, aw, please,
please
…’ He wriggled his groin suggestively against hers.

‘I
might
.’

Despite the jutting lower lip and the forceful response, a softer expression underlay them, luring Marty to form a roguish grin. ‘You only wanted them out o’ the house so’s
ye could get your wicked way with me, didn’t ye?’

Etta scoffed, but there was glee in her eye. When he seduced her with that droopy-lidded gaze she could deny him nothing.

‘Ye know, if ye’d wanted rid of them so badly there are easier ways without poisoning your husband too – aagh!’ He ran laughing to the stairs with Etta in pursuit.

‘Poor old Marty’s copping it now.’ Misinterpreting the squeals, Uncle Mal threw a sympathetic grimace at Red as they made their exit along the cobble-stoned alley.

Aggie was more concerned with the awful taste in her mouth. ‘Dilatory, she is!’ she spat her favourite denounce-ment of Etta. ‘I thought her sort were meant to be more intelligent than us? All those privileges and she hasn’t the sense she was born with. Wasn’t trying to poison us, says she – well, trying or not she almost succeeded! I’m still crunching on that blessed grit.’

Mal threw a wheezy laugh at Red. ‘At least we’ll have nice white gnashers.’

But Aggie did not share their amusement, especially when having to keep catching her husband, whose laughter caused him to buckle into a faint every few seconds. ‘I swear, I’ve never known anyone so bloody dilatory! Well, this week, come hell or high water I’m going to take that girl in hand.’

And to some extent she succeeded, managing to convey all manner of valuable information to Etta during the week that followed. But for all her intensive training, her hopes that this might encourage her daughter-in-law to provide her own dinner the following Sunday were shattered when Red heard the front door open and informed his wife drolly:

‘Looks like Pyramus ’n’ Thisby will be dining with us again.’

Oblivious to the sigh of exasperation from the kitchen, Marty entered chirpily and explained away his wife’s shortcomings. ‘I think the chimney’s still got a nest up it. It’s
blocked with something anyway, ’cause I couldn’t get a decent fire going for Etta to cook dinner. Is it all right if we…?’

Aggie bit her tongue and sighed, ‘Sit down. Lizzie, fetch two more plates.’

‘Maybe you should have the chimney swept,’ Redmond advised his son, his face a mass of abrasions from a recent fall. ‘Best to have it done every quarter.’

Marty shrugged carelessly. ‘Ah well, we won’t be there long if I have my way.’ He rubbed his palms together merrily at the sight and smell of the roast mutton. ‘By, ’tis a good job you’re just round the corner, Ma, we’d have had no dinner, would we, Ett?’

Mellowed by a morning’s lovemaking, Etta did not infer from this that she was useless, and nodded benignly.

Aggie returned an affable nod, but later, after the uninvited guests had gone, she complained to her husband, ‘God Almighty, you think you’re getting rid of them when they wed! I see more of Marty than ever since he married that useless girl.’

‘Ah well now, you shouldn’t have been so good to him,’ joked Red. ‘He’ll still be turning up when he’s a bloody pensioner.’

‘Bedad, he won’t! One pensioner’s enough for me.’

‘Sure, is that any way to treat an old soldier?’ gasped Mal, offended. ‘If you’d sooner I take my annuity elsewhere –’

‘Oh, whist you silly old donkey, who else would have yese, money or no.’ Aggie continued as if there had been no interruption. ‘Anyway, ’tis not entirely Marty’s fault, you can’t blame him for wanting a decent dinner. It’s that dilatory cuckoo he married, there’s always some excuse as to why she can’t provide for him. Too used to servants, that’s her trouble.’

Young Lizzie was quick to whisper to her sister, ‘Just like Ma!’

Aggie did not hear. ‘Well, she needn’t think I’ll put up with her treating me like one. I’ll fettle that one, see if I don’t.’

To this end, the following Sunday when the young couple inevitably turned up, she awaited the opportunity to deliver the bad news, although now having had a week in which to cool down she found it more difficult. It would have been easier to blurt it outright had Etta been an unpleasant sort, but she wasn’t and Aggie felt obliged to opt for a gentler, diplomatic approach, especially as the girl had been unusually helpful that afternoon, undertaking all the washing-up herself.

This task done, Etta spread the damp tea towel on a line above the fireplace and smiled in response to her mother-in-law’s thanks. ‘Well, it’s only right that I should take my turn. You’ve made me feel part of your family. I’m so grateful.’

Aggie gave an inward groan, for Etta’s warmth made her own task harder. Yet it did give her an opening. ‘Speaking of family,’ she said casually as her son wandered outside to the lavatory. ‘Are you thinking of letting your own know where you’re at?’

Smote as if by lightning, Etta cooled. ‘Had they wanted to find me they would have done so already.’

‘As I understand it, your argument is with your father. Speaking as a mother, I’d want to know where my daughter was – especially if I only had the one.’

Etta felt tears prick her eyes and was angry at herself for being so affected. ‘My mother isn’t like you. She’s too influenced by my father even to contemplate tracing me.’

‘That’s sad.’ Aggie hesitated, but then persisted. ‘If you want me to act as go-between –’

‘No!’ Curbing her outburst, Etta was to moderate the rest of her reply. ‘Thank you, it’s very decent but I’ve no wish to be reunited with any of them.’ She couldn’t bring herself to say that she had already tried the written approach
but through fear of being rebuffed had torn the letter up. ‘Martin and I need only each other.’ Immediately realising she had insulted her mother-in-law, she tried to apologise, but it was too late, the response was stiff.

‘Aye, well, maybe you’ll realise just how much you need others when you start a family of your own.’ Her ire rekindled over being taken for granted, Aggie added, ‘By the by, we won’t be eating at home next Sunday, we’ve been invited to Louisa’s.’ This was her eldest married daughter.

Etta misinterpreted and, thankful to have the subject changed, said more brightly, ‘Oh, I shall look forward to meeting her!’

Aggie was not about to let her get away with this. ‘When I said
we,
I meant Red and Uncle Mal and myself and the children. You and Marty’ll have to fend for yourself I’m afraid.’

Seeing Etta’s face droop, Red felt a rush of pity. ‘Well, maybe –’

‘Aye.’ Uncle Mal leaned forth to croon in sympathetic tone.

‘It’s not our place to go inviting other folk,’ pronounced Aggie firmly.

Her husband remained equable. ‘Strangers, maybe, but Marty is Lou’s brother and I’m sure she would be as pleased to meet Etta.’

‘And she will meet her some other time, but next Sunday I’m afraid Etta and Marty will have to rely on their own devices – sure, it’ll be no hardship for those who prefer their own company.’ Aggie looked Etta in the eye so that they were both clear as to where they stood.

When Marty came back into the room he sensed an atmosphere but assumed it was because his father had instantaneously dropped off to sleep. However, on the way home not long afterwards, he enquired of his wife who was unusually quiet, ‘Did something happen while I was in the lavvy?’

‘I’ve upset her again,’ Etta revealed dully.

‘What did you say?’

She related the brief exchange. ‘Consequently, we’re to provide our own Sunday luncheon in future.’

‘Don’t fret, Ett. You haven’t poisoned me yet.’

She punched him playfully.

He overreacted with a melodramatic performance that brought the sparkle of laughter to her eyes as he had hoped, and soon she was back to her animated self.