Mother’s Ruin (6 page)
It was November fifth and Sally was outside with Angel, smiling as her daughter squealed with delight, a sparkler held in her gloved hand reflecting bright pinpoints of light onto her face. ‘Why can’t we have a bonfire, Mummy?’
‘We’ve only got the yard and it isn’t big enough.’
‘But Tommy’s having one. He’s got loads of stuff piled in his backyard.’
Sally hardly listened, her eyes peeled for Arthur.
As though in understanding, Angela said, ‘I wish Daddy was here.’
‘Me too,’ Sally murmured as her eyes continued to scan the lane. Arthur had promised to bring home some fireworks, and though there wouldn’t be a bonfire, they were going to set them off in the yard. The lane was smoky, and the occasional rocket could be seen as it whooshed up into the air to explode in a cascade of bright, twinkling lights.
‘Will Daddy be home soon?’
‘I hope so.’
A group of small boys ran into the lane, one throwing a penny banger in their direction. Just as it exploded Sally grabbed Angel’s hand, pulling her daughter inside before she had time to protest.
Angel ran into the kitchen, her tone wheedling. ‘Nanny, I want to go out again. You take me.’
‘Let’s wait for your daddy to come home,’ Ruth placated.
Sally glanced at the clock. ‘Mum, I’m supposed to be standing in for one of the other healers at the hall.’
‘Get going then. This little madam will be fine with me.’
‘All right, but don’t give in to her. There are kids outside throwing bangers and I don’t want her hurt.’
‘Sally, I’ve been at work all day and the last thing I want is to stand outside. It’s always the same around here on fireworks night and last year a little bugger tied a jumping jack to a cat’s tail. The poor thing was terrified and it bolted down the lane with it going off behind him every few seconds.’
‘That was cruel,’ Sally said, wondering yet again where Arthur was. She leaned down to kiss her daughter. ‘I’ve got to go, darling. Be a good girl for Nanny.’
Sally hurried down the lane, her brow furrowed. After that wonderful night when Angela had slept over at Elsie’s Arthur had soon become distant and distracted. Most evenings he still came home late and sometimes she could smell alcohol on his breath. When asked he just said he’d popped into a pub for a drink, but he failed to meet her eyes and Sally was sure he was hiding something. Was Arthur having an affair?
The hall was almost empty, with only one healer working on a client when Sally walked in. Perhaps the smoke and fireworks had kept those needing healing indoors, Sally thought.
By nine o’clock she’d only had one client, and, still worried about Arthur, Sally asked the other healers if they’d mind if she left early. The smoke was dense as she turned into Candle Lane and Sally coughed before tugging her scarf over her mouth. A fire engine drove past, heading away from the lane, but why had it been there in the first place?
Sally’s pace quickened, the pavement wet under her feet now and as she hurried into the kitchen it was to find her mother cuddling a small, sobbing form. ‘What’s the matter with Angel?’ she cried.
The small form unwound itself and Sally saw that it wasn’t her daughter. It was Tommy Walters, the boy’s face streaked with dirt and his eyes red. ‘Tommy burned his hand and as his mother wasn’t in a fit state to look after him, I fetched him in here to have a look at it,’ Ruth said. ‘It isn’t too bad but it’s giving him a bit of gyp.’
‘How did he burn his hand?’
‘The silly sod lit a bonfire in his backyard, but the flames were bigger than he anticipated. Blimey, Sal, you’ve missed all the excitement. Luckily for Tommy, Mrs Stone saw the blaze over her back wall and she called the fire brigade.’
‘But where were Tommy’s parents? Didn’t they see the fire?’
‘His dad wasn’t in, and his mum was in her front room with no idea what was going on,’ Ruth said, throwing a look at Tommy before mouthing silently, ‘Drunk.’
The boy was too astute. ‘Yeah, me mum was pissed.’
‘That isn’t a nice word,’ Ruth told him, unable to hide a smile of amusement. ‘Sally, it’s just as well your gran’s in her room or I’d be getting it in both ears.’
‘Is Arthur upstairs?’
‘No, he didn’t turn up. Angel was disappointed and it was a right old job to get her off to bed.’
‘Is she asleep?’
‘I haven’t heard a peep out of her, so yes, I should think so.’
‘I’ll go and check,’ Sally said, turning to hurry upstairs. There was no sign of Angel when she walked into the bedroom, both the double and single beds empty. ‘Angela, where are you?’
There was a muffled cry and then the wardrobe door flew open. Her daughter came tumbling out and buried herself in Sally’s arms. ‘Mummy, Mummy, there was a fire and Tommy got burned!’
‘I know, but it’s only a small burn on his hand and he’s fine now.’
‘No, Mummy! I saw his bonfire from the window and it got really big. Tommy was on top of it and . . . and he fell in,’ Angela sobbed.
‘Of course he didn’t.’
‘He did! He got all burned up,’ she insisted, her voice verging on hysteria.
‘Come on, darling. Come with me,’ Sally said, disengaging her daughter’s arms to take her hand.
They went downstairs, Angel’s eyes rounding with surprise when she saw Tommy sitting on the sofa. ‘I . . . I thought you fell in the fire.’
‘Of course I didn’t, but look at me hand,’ Tommy said, holding it out like a trophy.
‘But . . . but you was on top of the bonfire and . . .’
‘Nah, you silly sod. It was a guy that I dressed in me old clothes. You can’t have a bonfire without a guy on top.’
‘Mum, I found Angel in the wardrobe,’ Sally admonished, ‘and she was very upset.’
‘I thought she was asleep,’ Ruth said, flushing with guilt. She then turned to Tommy. ‘Come on, lad, I think it’s time you went home.’
‘But what about me hand?’
‘It isn’t a bad burn and doesn’t even need a bandage. I’ve rubbed some margarine on it and it’ll be better in no time.’
Tommy reluctantly rose to his feet, but paused on his way out to say to Angel, ‘You daft bugger. Fancy thinking I fell into me bonfire.’
Sally hated his language but held her tongue as the boy left. ‘Say goodnight to Nanny,’ Sally told her daughter before taking her upstairs again.
‘Why didn’t Daddy come home?’ Angel asked as Sally tucked her into bed.
‘I expect he got held up at work,’ she replied, yet thinking there was more to it than that.
‘But he promised to buy me some fireworks.’
‘I know, darling. I’m sure he’ll make it up to you,’ Sally placated as she began to hum a lullaby, relieved when at last her daughter settled down. Angel had been badly frightened, and Sally’s anger was aimed at Tommy’s parents. How could they let the boy light a bonfire without supervision?
It was fifteen minutes later when Sally crept from the room, her mother saying as soon as she walked into the kitchen, ‘I had no idea that Angel was still awake. Is she all right now?’
‘Yes, but I’m worried about Arthur. He was supposed to be home by seven and now it’s gone ten.’
Just at that moment Arthur walked in. ‘Well, well, it’s about time,’ Ruth drawled.
‘Where have you been?’ Sally asked. ‘You said you’d be early and that you’d buy Angel some fireworks.’
‘Did I? Sorry, I forgot.’
‘I don’t see how when you must have seen endless fireworks going off.’
‘Look, I’ve got a lot on my mind. Now just leave it, will you.’
Sally was unable to believe his attitude and now watched as Arthur took a seat by the fire, gazing into the flames. It was as though his mind was elsewhere. What was he thinking about, or who? One thing was certain; he obviously didn’t want to talk. ‘If that’s how you feel, fine. I’m going to bed.’
‘Are you all right, Sal?’ Ruth called.
‘Yes. Goodnight, Mum,’ she managed to say, aware as she left the room that Arthur was still staring into the fire.
With one foot on the stairs, Sally paused as tears filled her eyes. She and Arthur were growing further and further apart. If only Gran wasn’t so ill, if only they could find a place of their own. Suddenly Sally was struck by another thought. Arthur hated living here, but he hadn’t mentioned moving out for some time now. Why?
Was he going to leave her? With a sob, Sally ran upstairs feeling as though her life was falling apart.
* * *
A few minutes later Sally heard their bedroom door open and through tear-filled eyes she asked, ‘Arthur, are you seeing another woman?’
‘What? Of course I’m not. Whatever gave you that idea?’
Angel stirred and worried that she would wake, Sally kept her voice low. ‘It isn’t just work that keeps you out late. You often arrive with the smell of beer on your breath and you never mention moving out now.’
‘I’ve got a lot on my mind and buying a house has been put on the back burner.’
‘So if it isn’t a woman, what is it?’
‘It’s to do with work and if you must know, Sal, I’ve been looking for a way out.’
‘What! Surely you don’t mean a way out of your father’s firm?’
‘That says it all, Sally.
His
firm. Not mine.’
‘But he’s your father and takes it for granted that one day the business will go to you.’
‘Yes,
one day
, but he isn’t yet fifty and he’ll carry on running the place for at least another fifteen years. He doesn’t need me, Sally. I just do deliveries, the same as the other men, and he can easily replace me.’
‘I thought you liked the removals business.’
‘It was all right at first. I enjoyed travelling around the country, but now it’s just a daily grind and I’ve come to hate it.’
Sally thought about her father-in-law, a man she had grown to love. Bert, like Arthur, was a gentle giant and she knew that if Arthur made up his mind to leave the firm, he wouldn’t be happy about it. ‘So have you found a way out?’
‘Yes, I think so,’ he said, and sitting down on the side of the bed he spoke quietly. ‘I told you a while ago that an old friend of mine, Joe Somerton, was back in the country. He’s asked me to go into business with him and I’ve been looking into it. There’s been a lot to sort out and we’ve been meeting as often as we can to discuss the details.’
‘You’re not thinking of going back to Australia, are you?’ Sally asked worriedly.
‘No, silly, the business is in England. We’re going to build houses, though we won’t be involved in the actual construction,’ Arthur explained, then went on to tell her about their plans, from the plot of land they’d buy to the actual sale of houses and the projected profits they’d make.
To Sally it sounded plausible, but risky. Arthur sounded so enthusiastic and she hated to burst his bubble, but felt she had to voice her concerns. ‘I’m not sure about this. You’d be leaving your father’s firm and the security it offers. Are you sure you’d be doing the right thing?’
‘Yes, after giving it a lot of thought, I’m sure, though of course I intended to mull it over with you before I gave Joe my decision. I was going to talk to you in the morning, but then you came out with this ridiculous idea that I’ve been seeing another woman.’
‘I’m sorry, but you have to admit you’ve been acting strangely.’
‘As I said, I’ve had a lot on my mind. I’ll have to invest all our savings into the venture and that will mean we won’t be able to buy a house for the foreseeable future.’
‘That wouldn’t worry me. We can stay here.’
‘No, Sally, we still need a place of our own again. I know you feel that your gran needs you to look after her, but there’s no reason why we can’t rent a flat close by. You can look after her during the day, but in the evenings we’d be in our own home again.’
Sally refrained from pointing out that she’d already suggested they buy a house locally. ‘If you use all our savings, what would we do for money?’
‘Joe and I are going to pay ourselves a small wage until the houses are sold, but it’ll be nothing like the money we’re used to. It’ll be enough to pay the rent on a small flat, but we’ll need to pull our horns in.’
‘It sounds like you’ve already made up your mind.’
‘Yes, I have, but I’d like to think you’re with me in this.’ Sally began to realise how lucky they had been. Arthur was well paid and they had never had to worry about money. Now, for the first time, she would have to economise. Well, she’d had a good teacher in her mother and though she had never had to resort to it, she knew how to make nourishing meals from cheap cuts of meat. Not only that, Elsie had been supportive of Bert when he had started up the removals business, and she would do the same. ‘If this is what you really want to do, then yes, I’m with you.’
Sally was rewarded by the way Arthur’s face lit up as he hugged her. ‘I’ll tell my father tomorrow, clear it with him and then tell Joe.’
When Arthur undressed and climbed into bed, Sally snuggled into his arms. There’d be no lovemaking while they remained here, but with any luck she’d shortly find the perfect flat close by.
Ruth had seen how upset Sally was and couldn’t sleep that night. She lay awake, wondering what Arthur was up to, but then heard someone shouting outside in the lane, followed by a door slamming.
It was probably that lot next door, Ruth decided, closing her eyes again. The room felt clammy, airless and she wondered if there was a storm brewing. With an impatient sigh, she threw back her blankets and padded to the window to open it a little wider.
Ruth was just about to return to her bed when she heard a faint noise that sounded like muffled sobs. Puzzled, she looked up and down the lane. At first she saw nothing, but then, in the dim light from a street lamp, Ruth saw a small figure sitting on the kerb, feet in the gutter. A child! What was a child doing outside after midnight?
Careful not to make any noise, Ruth threw on her dressing gown to go out into the lane. Shocked, she saw that the small figure sitting hunched in a thin jumper was Tommy Walters, his head bent as Ruth approached. ‘Tommy, what on earth are you doing out here at this time of night?’
‘Me muvver chucked me out,’ he said, cuffing his face with his sleeve to wipe away tears.
Ruth found herself angry. What sort of mother threw a child onto the streets? ‘Why, Tommy?’
‘’Cos of me bonfire.’
‘I don’t understand. That happened earlier so why wait until now to throw you out?’
His thin shoulders lifted in a shrug. ‘She’s had a few more bottles of cider, that’s why, and she gave me a right old belting too.’
‘Come on,’ Ruth said, holding out her hand. ‘I think it’s time for you to go indoors and I’ll have a few words to say to your mother.’
‘No, missus!’ he cried, scrambling to his feet. ‘You can’t do that. She’ll go mad.’
‘I can’t leave you out here all night.’
Tommy straightened his shoulders, now saying bravely, ‘I’ll be all right. I’ll wait until she’s asleep, me dad too, and then I’ll sneak back in.’
‘Have you got a key?’
‘Nah, of course not, but me bedroom’s at the back. I can climb over the wall into the yard and then shin up the drainpipe.’
‘But you might fall,’ Ruth said, horrified by the danger.
‘Course I won’t. It’s a piece of cake and I’ve done it loads of times.’
Ruth shivered, clutching her dressing gown closer to her body as she eyed Tommy’s inadequate clothing. All right, the boy had lit a bonfire in their backyard, but it didn’t warrant being thrown out. Despite Tommy’s protests she wanted to give the woman a piece of her mind and said, ‘No, you’re not climbing drainpipes. Come on, we’re going to knock on your door.’
‘No! No, don’t do that! If you do, I – I’ll run away.’
Ruth could see the fear in the boy’s eyes and hear it in his voice. She touched his shoulder. ‘All right, but it’s freezing out here so you had better come into my house for the time being.’
All might have been well, but as they stepped inside, Sadie came out of her room. In other circumstances her appearance might have been comical as she stood, her blue hairnet askew and her dressing gown gaping to reveal a long, flannelette nightdress. Toothless, and lisping, she demanded, ‘Why are you bringing that hooligan in here again and at this time of night?’
‘Because his mother chucked him out.’
‘Yeah, well, after what he’s been up to he deserves it. Now get him out of my house.’
‘No, Mum. I’m not leaving him on the streets.’
‘But look at the state of him. He’s probably alive with fleas and as I said, I want him out of my house.’
‘This isn’t
your
house, Mum, it’s mine, and
I’ll
say who comes in and out of it.’
‘Don’t you dare talk to me like that!’
Ignoring the indignant look on Sadie’s face, Ruth spoke to Tommy. ‘Go into the kitchen and I’ll find you a bite to eat.’
‘What! You’re going to feed the little bugger too?’
‘It’s all right. I don’t want nuffin’,’ Tommy said, his eyes glistening with tears.
‘Go into the kitchen,’ Ruth urged again, giving him a gentle shove. When he was out of sight she turned back to her mother. ‘He’s only two years older than Angela and I’d like to think that if she was in trouble, someone would help her. Now go back to bed, Mum, and keep your nose out of it.’
Perhaps it was something her mother saw in her face, Ruth didn’t know, but instead of arguing Sadie huffed loudly. ‘Sod you then. Do what you like.’
Ruth went into the kitchen and in no time she had cut a doorstep of bread, spreading it liberally with margarine and strawberry jam. With a reassuring smile she gave it to Tommy, and wide-eyed he took it, cramming it hurriedly into his mouth as though scared it would be snatched away again. ‘’Cor thanks, missus. That was bleedin’ lovely.’
Tommy was perched on the edge of the sofa, his face pinched with cold and Ruth’s heart ached for him. She poured him a cup of milk and then sat beside him, her questions gentle. ‘Do you get many beltings, Tommy?’
‘Nah, most of the time I keep out of my muvver’s way.’
‘What about your dad?’
‘He’s all right. When he’s had a skinful he just goes to sleep.’ Seven, he’s only seven, Ruth thought, yet already he sounded so streetwise. She was about to offer him another slice of bread when she saw him sinking back into the sofa, his eyelids drooping. As he drifted off to sleep Ruth studied his face, finding that in sleep he looked so sweet and innocent.
Ruth stood up and taking her cigarette packet from the mantel- piece she lit one, taking a deep drag. There was something about Tommy that drew her to him, and seeing an old blanket on her mother’s chair she gently tucked it around the child. He stirred, but didn’t wake and she decided to let him stay. Sally wouldn’t be happy to see him there in the morning, nor would her mother, but there was no way Ruth was going to turn the boy out to climb drainpipes in the dark.
Once again Ruth studied the boy’s face and found that there was something about him that tugged at her maternal instincts. The poor kid. What a life he had, with both parents it seemed fonder of booze than their son. What sort of future did Tommy have? Not much of one, Ruth decided, but there was little she could do about it. She stubbed out her cigarette, lay down on the sofa, and tired now Ruth joined Tommy in sleep.
Sally woke the following morning and stretched, aware of sounds drifting up from the kitchen. Her mother must be up already and soon after Arthur and Angel stirred. It was Sunday morning and usually leisurely but Angel seemed anxious to go downstairs.
Unwilling to get up just yet, Sally helped her daughter into her dressing gown and let her go, but shortly after Angel was back again. ‘Mummy, Daddy, come and see who slept here last night!’
Sally now threw on her dressing gown, but Arthur said, ‘If we’ve got company I’d best get dressed first.’
Puzzled about their overnight visitor, Sally wasn’t pleased to see that it was Tommy Walters. He was perched at the table, tucking into a bowl of cereal, his ragged clothes rumpled. Hissing at her mother, Sally asked, ‘What’s he doing here?’
‘His mother chucked him out. I found him outside after midnight so I let him sleep on the sofa.’
‘She threw him out! But he’s only a child.’
‘I know, and if you ask me Laura Walters is a bloody disgrace. She isn’t fit to be a mother.’
Angel scrambled onto a chair beside Tommy, grinning as she said, ‘Tommy, I knew you’d be here. I had a dream that you were living with us,’ and then looking at Ruth she asked, ‘Can he stay forever now, Nanny?’
‘Well now, I don’t know about that, ducks.’
‘No, of course he can’t,’ Sally said and moving closer to her mother she whispered, ‘I think you should report what happened to Tommy. Anything could have happened to him if he’d been left on the streets and his mother needs sorting out.’
‘No, Sally, if I make waves Tommy might end up in care.’
‘Yes,
care
, and that’s what he’d get instead of neglect.’
‘I don’t want the poor kid to be shoved in a kids’ home. I’ll have a strong word with his mother, and I’ll also keep an eye on him from now on.’
‘But . . .’
‘Shut up about it, Sally,’ she said, then smiled at Tommy. ‘Now lad, would you like some more cereal?’
‘Yes please, missus,’ he said with a wonky-toothed grin. ‘I bleedin’ well told her she shouldn’t bring him in here,’ Sadie said as she stepped into the room, her face set in disapproval.
Arthur appeared as well, looking surprised to see the lad, but unlike Sadie, he smiled. ‘Hello, young man, and what are you doing here?’
‘Me muvver chucked me out and she,’ he said pointing at Ruth, ‘fetched me in here.’
‘She,’ Arthur gently admonished, ‘is Mrs Marchant. Now tell me, why did your mother throw you out?’
‘’Cos of me bleedin’ bonfire, but it wasn’t that bad and didn’t set our house on fire.’
Arthur roared with laughter, obviously finding the boy amusing, but Sally’s lips were pursed in an expression of disapproval. ‘Don’t swear, Tommy.’
‘Swear? But I didn’t swear.’
‘Yes you did. You said,
bleeding
.’
‘But that ain’t swearing, and she just said it,’ he protested, looking at Sadie. ‘Now if I’d said fu—’
‘Don’t you dare!’ Sally cried before the boy had time to finish. ‘Where on earth did you learn such bad language?’
‘Me dad says it all the time. He calls me a little bugger too.’
Arthur roared with laughter again, but Sally’s smile was thin and once again she spoke quietly to her mother. ‘I don’t like Angel hearing this bad language. Look at her. She’s drinking in every word that Tommy comes out with.’
‘I know, but you’ve got to feel sorry for the boy,’ and turning to Tommy she said, ‘Come on, love. It’s time you went home. I’ll come with you.’
‘No, no, there’s no need for that,’ Tommy said as he hastily stood up to make a run for the front door, calling out as though on an afterthought, ‘Fanks for ’aving me.’
The door slammed, followed by silence for a few moments, and then Ruth said, ‘It was nice that he thanked me. He’s not such a bad kid really.’
‘How can you say that, Mum? You heard his appalling language.’
‘You can’t blame the boy for that. He’s only repeating what he hears at home.’
‘I feel sorry for Tommy, but I still don’t want Angel mixing with him.’
‘Mummy, I like him,’ Angel protested.
‘Like him or not, I want you to stay away from him.’
‘Sally, you should listen to yourself,’ Ruth commented. ‘You sound as snobbish as your Aunt Mary. Tommy is no different from the other kids around here.’
‘I know that, and I don’t want her mixing with them either.’
‘Both you and Arthur grew up in Candle Lane and it didn’t do you any harm. Now you act as though the place isn’t good enough for you.’
‘There weren’t children like Tommy Walters around then.’
‘Yes, there were, but you seem to have a selective memory. As for bad language, Angel has heard swearing before, and mainly from my mother, but she hasn’t picked it up.’
‘Here, Ruth, you swear too,’ Sadie protested, ‘yet Sally has a point, neither of us use the
f
word.’
‘You always take her side,’ Ruth complained.
‘Look, the boy’s gone home so can we drop the subject now,’ Arthur said. ‘We have something else to talk about, something we want to tell you.’
‘Spit it out then,’ Sadie ordered.
Sally left it to Arthur, her mother saying nothing until he came to the part about moving into a place of their own. Sally braced herself as her mother turned to look at her, saying worriedly, ‘But what about your gran? Who is going to look after her?’
‘I’ll still come here every day. When you come home from work, you can take over and I’ll go home.’
Sadie commented, ‘It’s about time you found your own place again, and I don’t see why you’d have to come here every day. I don’t need looking after any more. I keep telling you that.’
‘I don’t mind, Gran, and I’m going to look after you until the doctor gives you the all clear.’
‘He’s an old fusspot and hell might freeze over before he does that.’
‘Are you trying to get rid of me?’ Sally asked, trying to introduce a bit of lightness into the conversation.
‘Of course not, you silly mare.’
‘What’s a silly mare, Gamma?’ asked Angel. ‘It’s a funny horse, me darling.’
‘Can I have one?’
Arthur picked Angel up and swung her high before putting her down again, laughing as he said, ‘If you ever have a horse of your own, you won’t want a silly one. Now, Sally, how about feeding me? After that I’m off to see my dad to break the news and it’s not something I’m looking forward to.’
‘He isn’t going to like it,’ Sadie observed. ‘Are you sure you’re doing the right thing? You’ve got security working for your father and it isn’t something to be sniffed at.’
Sally hadn’t realised how unhappy Arthur had been, and though she knew her gran was right, she was once again determined to support Arthur in his decision. She began to cook his breakfast but suddenly a cold shiver ran up her spine and her hands shook.
Something was going to happen, something terrible she was sure, and Sally’s eyes shot to her gran. Was she in danger?