Put Out the Fires (32 page)

“From Smithdown Road, but I go for free on the bus.”

Brenda had no idea where Smithdown Road was, but knew it wasn’t local. It seemed mean not to offer him a cup of tea, but, as usual, the place was like a midden. She wondered which was worse: not to ask him in, or to let him see the dustbin in which she now lived? “Would you like a cup of tea?” she enquired, deciding on the former and hoping he’d refuse.

Instead, he said eagerly, “Well, I never say no to a cuppa.”

“I’m afraid it’s all in a bit of a state. I haven’t had time to tidy up this morning.”

When they went into the living room, she hastily removed an empty gin bottle and two glasses off the table, and picked up some of the litter off the floor. Sonny began to wail when she took away the empty cornflake box he appeared to be eating. She gave him one of Monica’s dolls and he immediately began to screw the head off.

“Sit down,” she said, emptying a chair of dirty clothes.

“I suppose I’d better introduce meself. I’m Vincent McLoughlin, Vince for short. I already know your name from your identity card. Brenda, isn’t it?”

“That’s right.” She fetched a kettle of water and threw a few more cobs of coal on the dying fire. It was a bind having to remember to keep the fire stoked up.

“That’s a fine looking little chap,” said Vince, nodding at Sonny who was chewing the doll’s ear.

“He’s not mine,” Brenda said quickly. “He belongs to me friend. I only look after him while she’s at work. I’ve two girls, meself, Monica and Muriel. They’re both at school.

Me husband’s in the Army,” she added, just in case he got any ideas. She could have sworn he looked slightly disappointed and wasn’t sure whether to feel flattered or not.

“I’m not married meself. I was courting for five years, but we broke up right before the wedding.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was a mutual decision. We decided we weren’t right for each other, after all.”

Well, you certainly took your time about it, Brenda thought. “It was dead nice of you to come all this way with me bag,” she said.

“Think nothing of it. I reckoned one of these days you’d be looking for your identity card and you’d never remember where you lost it.”

“You’re probably right.” She would probably have thought Sonny had eaten it.

“When you got on me bus on New Year’s Eve, I couldn’t make out if you were dead upset or angry.”

“I think I was a bit of both. I’d been to a dance at the Orrell Park. It was me first dance and I hated it. I’ll never go to another.” It had been thoroughly degrading, standing there like a pill garlic waiting to be asked onto the floor, then bored witless by having to make stupid conversation. Though not as degrading as having your husband marry another woman when he was still married to you. Brenda began to feel confused again as she thought about the uncertain future. She sighed.

“What’s the matter, luv?” Vince asked.

“I’m sorry. There’s days when everything seems to get on top of me,” she said.

“It must be dead rotten, with your husband in the Army and two kids to look after, as well your friend’s,” he said sympathetically.

“It’s not that, it’s . . . oh, nothing!” She’d no intention of revealing her private affairs, but she’d managed fine without Xavier, better than most women would, with a good business of her own. She was used to being without him—he was away most nights of the week long before he joined the Army. “With Carrie,” a little voice reminded her.

“The kettle’s boiling.” Vince interrupted her chain of thought. “Would you like me to make the tea?”

“No, ta. I’ll do it.” She’d sooner die before she’d let him into the back kitchen, which was the filthiest room in the house.

Vince stayed for more than an hour, most of which time was spent explaining how the raids were playing havoc with his timetable, and he was fed up with passengers complaining the bus was late. When he got up to leave, he asked if he could come again. “Just for a cup of tea and a chat, like.”

Brenda agreed because he was easy to get on with and didn’t seem to notice the place being in such a state. She guessed he liked her, which did her ego a mite of good under the circumstances, and if he ever made a move she decided she’d slap him down pretty quick.

Since then, he’d begun to turn up regularly, and all they did was talk about this and that, mainly bus routes and timetables. Carrie had been there on a few occasions, but Vince didn’t seem the least bit interested, despite the fact she sat with her skirt halfway up her smooth yellow thighs, which did Brenda’s ego even more good.

Brenda read Xavier’s letter for the umpteenth time and wondered if she should tidy up, because if so, she should start now. It would take days to return the house to some sort of order. She decided she couldn’t be bothered. Let him see the state he had reduced her to! In fact, it was a pity he wouldn’t be home on Sunday for Monica’s Confirmation, to witness his daughter being confirmed in a cheap white taffeta frock, the first shop-bought frock her girls had ever worn. Although Brenda had meant to make it herself, she just never seemed to get round to it. She recalled miserably that the girls’ First Holy Communion dresses had been subjected to much lavish praise from the nuns at St Joan of Arc’s and much envy from the other girls’ mams.

“Oh, bugger!” she said aloud.

“Bugger!” Sonny echoed from the floor.

The girls came home from school soon afterwards, Muriel in tears. The knickers fell down in the playground,” she sobbed. “Sister Cecilia said the elastic’s gone.”

“Jaysus!” said Brenda, feeling guilty. “I’ll mend them later.”

“Sister Cecilia said they were dirty, too.”

“I’ll find you a clean pair for tomorrer,” Brenda promised, wondering where. She felt terrible about neglecting her girls so woefully. In fact, she’d met one of the lay teachers in church a few Sundays ago who’d asked, “Is everything all right at home, Mrs Mahon?”

“Everything’s fine,” Brenda replied, avoiding the woman’s eyes.

“It’s just that your girls aren’t doing nearly so well at school as they used to.”

“They’re probably missing their dad,” said Brenda, though that didn’t account for the grubby, creased frocks the girls wore lately, their unpolished shoes and dirty socks, and the fact they went to bed at all hours, so were late for school more often than not.

“I suppose I’d better make the tea,” Brenda said, as she reluctantly got out of the chair. “On the other hand, Monica, perhaps you could pop round to the chippie for me. I don’t feel much like cooking today.”

“Strike a bleedin’ light,” Carrie said when she came home and read Xavier’s letter. The frosty atmosphere had quickly melted as the women became united against their common enemy, Xavier Mahon. “What the hell do we do now?”

“Can you take the day off?” asked Brenda. “I’d like both of us to be here when he arrives. When Carrie nodded, she went on, ‘It’s his face I can’t wait to see, the expression on his face when he claps eyes on us together.’ It was what had kept her going through the last few months. She began to cry, ‘Oh, God, Carrie, I don’t half hate him.’

“I know you do, gal,” Carrie said gruffly.

“But I don’t half love him, an’ all.”

“I know that, too,” said Carrie.

Carrie had been swilling gin and orange down like nobody’s business all day, but Brenda held back on the drink, wanting to keep a clear head for when Xavier arrived. It was gone seven, which meant Carrie had lost a whole day’s pay for nothing. “Perhaps he decided to get off the train and get married on the way,” she suggested at one point. “Will he come in the front way or the back?”

“It depends whether he’s got his key or not. It could be either way.” Brenda felt a nerve twitch in her cheek and her palms felt hot and sweaty. The kids were making a terrible noise in the parlour. “I think I’ll make another cup of tea,” she said.

She’d just turned the tap on, when she heard the latch go on the backyard door and shot back into the living room. “He’s coming!”

The two women stared at each other, round-eyed with excitement, as the back door opened and Xavier Mahon came in. Brenda’s stomach fluttered. He looked like a film star in his uniform.

“Hallo, luv!” He threw his kitbag on the floor and took a step towards her—then he noticed Carrie, and froze. His perfectly shaped jaw seem to drop several inches as realisation dawned that he’d been found out.

The women waited expectantly. Brenda had always wondered what his first words would be.

But Xavier said nothing. Instead, his eyes rolled upwards,’his knees buckled and he collapsed dramatically on the floor.

Neither woman moved. They both stared wordlessly at the prone figure of Xavier, but after a while, Carrie started to giggle. Brenda wasn’t sure whether to pick the handsome head up and cradle it in her arms, or give it a good kick.

He lay there, completely still, for a good five minutes, but jumped when a particularly loud crash came from the parlour, and Carrie giggled again. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he opened his eyes.

“What happened?” he asked pathetically.

“You pretended to faint, darlin’,” Carrie said. “I wonder why?”

Xavier sat up and leaned against the sideboard. “That was a dirty trick to play on a feller,” he said indignantly.

Brenda and Carrie burst out laughing at his sheer nerve.

“Well, you should know about dirty tricks, being an expert,” Carrie hooted.

“I can explain,” Xavier said with a touch of desperation.

Carrie folded her yellow arms. “We’re listening.”

He’d acted badly, he knew that, but it was only because he was trying to do his best by both women. He was sorry he’d been unfaithful to Brenda, but once Sonny was on the way he felt he had to stand by Carrie and marrying her was the only way he knew how. He was sorry, more sorry than mere words could put it, but begged their forgiveness, nevertheless.

The three children came in whilst their dad was in the middle of this long, rambling vindication, none exactly overwhelmed to see him there. He’d always been too wrapped up in himself to pay much attention to the girls, Brenda recalled, though it was a bit late in the day to realise that. She scarcely opened her mouth all night, but left it to Carrie to ask the questions and lay the blame, and generally put their husband through the wringer.

It was nearly midnight, the children had put themselves to bed, and Xavier was still making excuses, when Carrie stubbed her umpteenth cigarette out and said scornfully, “I’m off. I have to be up at the crack of dawn. I’ve no intention of losing another day’s pay tomorrow.”

“I’ll come with you,” Brenda said quickly. The two women had shared the double bed upstairs ever since Carrie came.

“What about me?” Xavier demanded.

“What about you?” Carrie leered. “Would you like to join us in the middle?”

Xavier had the grace to look uncomfortable. “Where am I going to kip?”

“You’ll just have to sleep on the settee in the parlour,”

Brenda said shortly. “You’ll find some bedding in the airing cupboard. At least, you might.” She hadn’t been in the airing cupboard for weeks.

“What d’you think?” Carrie asked when they were in bed.

“I don’t know what to think.”

The, neither.” Carrie turned over, and a few minutes later she began to snore.

Brenda lay wide awake for what seemed like hours, more confused than she’d ever been before. Her head ached and her cheek was twitching violently. She could hear Xavier moving about downstairs. Could she bring herself to take him back? Did she want him back? Did Xavier want her? There was no way of telling what Xavier wanted, not with both Brenda and Carrie there. Perhaps it was time she had a few words with him alone.

She got stealthily out of bed so as not to disturb Carrie, and slipped into the pretty dressing gown she’d made herself in the days when she didn’t have a care in the world.

Xavier was sitting gloomily in the armchair, staring into the dying fire. “Hallo, luv,” he said warily when she went in. She wondered if he would rather it was Carrie who’d appeared.

Brenda nodded curtly as she sat down. “Hallo, Xavier.”

“I couldn’t get to sleep on that settee.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

Suddenly, he burst into tears. “I’ve made a right ould mess of things, haven’t I?”

“That you have,” said Brenda. She felt moved by the tears, but made no sign of it.

“Oh, luv!” He stumbled across the room, fell at her feet and clutched her knees and began sobbing wildly in her lap. “Can you forgive me? Can you ever forgive me?”

Brenda felt as if her body were being wrenched in two.

She stretched out her hands and held them, poised and trembling, over his head. If she touched him, he would assume he was forgiven, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready to forgive him, not yet, or even at all.

“Jaysus!” he wept. “When I think of the way you’ve suffered, I could kill meself, I really could. I couldn’t explain properly, not with that Carrie here, but she’s an awful woman, Bren, dead awful.”

“I quite like her,” Brenda said stiffly. “She seems nice.”

“I used to like her, too.” Xavier looked up, his dark smouldering eyes red with weeping. Brenda, still undecided, let her hands fall on the arms of the chair. “But once you get to know her, she’s anything but nice. As soon as she found herself expecting Sonny, she threatened to set her brothers on me if we didn’t get wed. You should see them, Bren, great hulking monsters the pair of them.

They worked in Billingsgate fish market before they were called up. I had no option, luv. You know I’d never do anything to hurt you if I could avoid it.”

The tick in Brenda’s cheek began to lessen. “That doesn’t alter the fact you slept with her,” she said. It was an effort to keep her voice cold. “Or did she threaten you with her brothers if you refused?”

He began to cry again. “Oh, I’m a terrible weak person.”

He beat his chest with his small fists. “May God forgive me. There’s only been one woman for me, Bren, and that’s you! There’ll never be another Carrie, luv. It’ll be cried pitifully. “Please!”

He sank his head back onto her knees, and she felt his I arms begin to inch up her legs to her hips, her waist, until I they -were tightly clamped around her. Brenda held her breath. All she had to do was lean towards him!