Stay as Sweet as You Are (11 page)

‘So ye’re away gallivanting tonight, eh? Off to the pictures with the great Mr Titch. It’s a fine life ye’re having these days.’

‘He’s not only taking me, Jack and Greg are coming, too!’ As Lucy picked up her plate, she told herself not to be drawn into an argument. That was what her mother wanted, she could tell by the glint in her eyes. But she couldn’t not stick
up for someone who was a friend and always good to her. ‘I think it’s nice of him to take us, so there!’ With that, Lucy marched out to the kitchen and put her plate down. The sooner she was out of the house the better. Her mother wouldn’t be able to pick on her tonight because her dad would be in.

But Lucy hadn’t reckoned on Ruby’s burning desire to take her spite out on someone. And the only person available was her daughter. So she waited until the girl was putting her coat on in the hall, with her back to her. Then, silently creeping up behind her, she put her hand up Lucy’s dress, and with thumb and forefinger, pinched the flesh at the top of the girl’s leg as hard as she could.

Tears welled up in Lucy’s eyes. ‘Stop it, ye’re hurting me!’

‘That, you little faggot, is the general idea.’ With an evil look in her eyes, Ruby spun the frightened girl around and pressed her face close. ‘And that’s one place yer won’t be showing yer dad, isn’t it?’

Lucy made a dash for the front door. When it was open, and freedom at hand, she dared to looked back. The pain, the injustice and the sadness in her heart, gave her the courage to cry out, ‘Mothers are supposed to love their children, but you don’t love me, you hate me!’

‘Are yer putting yer best dress on, pet?’

‘Yeah, we can’t let the side down, can we?’ Although she didn’t feel like smiling, Lucy managed one for her dad. He looked so happy for her she didn’t want to spoil it. How different it would be if he could see the inside of the top of her leg. There was a big ugly bruise there, and the skin had been broken where her mother’s nails had dug in. It hurt like anything when she walked and her two legs rubbed together. And she’d been in pain all day, sitting on a hard bench at school and wishing there was someone she could ask for help without fear of them getting in touch with her dad. ‘I’ll go and get changed now so I’ll be ready in time.’

‘It would be nice if yer had a new coat, but it can’t be helped. Tell Mr Titch ye’re getting one next week for yer birthday, and yer’ll be a proper swank then.’

‘Now if I told him that, I would be swanking, wouldn’t I? The boys would think I was showing off and they’d skit me.’ Lucy blew him a kiss before leaving the room to go upstairs. She was on the third stair when she heard her dad speak.

‘You could take a brush to her old coat while she’s upstairs and try and make it look a bit respectable,’ Bob said. ‘The lads from next door will be well turned out, Irene will make sure of that. I wouldn’t have to ask if yer showed some interest in yer daughter’s appearance.’

‘She’s big enough to brush her own flamin’ coat,’ Ruby said. ‘She’ll be wanting a maid next, the way she’s getting spoilt.’

Lucy jumped down the stairs and went back into the living room. ‘I’ll brush me own coat, Dad.’

‘Yer mam will do it, it’ll only take five minutes.’

‘Dad, I’d rather do it meself, honest. I don’t want me mam doing it for me.’

Bob looked puzzled at Lucy’s tone. ‘Are you all right, pet? Yer mam hasn’t been shouting at yer, has she?’

‘No, it’s just that I’d rather do it meself. I’ve got plenty of time, so I’ll have a good go at it when I come down.’

‘Oh well, if that’s what yer want.’ But Bob wasn’t completely satisfied, and as soon as Lucy was out of earshot, he glared at his wife. ‘Have you been upsetting her? It wouldn’t surprise me in the least, it’s just the sort of thing yer would do.’

‘In the name of God, I only saw the girl for half an hour this morning!’ Ruby was so good at telling lies, she didn’t even blush. ‘You’ve been home since she got in from school, mollycoddling her, as usual.’

With that, Bob had to be content. But if he could have seen his daughter at that moment he would have gone berserk. The cuts on the top of Lucy’s leg were bleeding with the constant
rubbing, and she didn’t know what to do. Even if she had a bandage it would be no good because the wound was in an awkward place and a bandage wouldn’t stay up. She sat on the side of her bed wondering what to do. There was no one she could talk to, so she’d have to think of something herself. How crafty her mother had been, knowing her daughter was far too shy to show anyone what she’d done.

Lucy rested her elbows on her knees and cupped her face in her hands. If the bleeding got worse, it would run down her leg and everyone would see it. And she’d die of shame if that happened. Besides, it would ruin her new dress, and that would be terrible. She racked her brains but couldn’t think of anything she could do without help. Then, just when she was about to give up, thinking there was no answer to her plight, she suddenly had a brainwave. She jumped from the bed and crossed to the small chest of drawers. Her old knickers were in there and unless she was much mistaken, the pins would still be in them. Her prayers were answered and she clutched the washed-out knickers to her chest. If she could make a pad out of one of the pairs, she could use the two pins to pin them to the knickers she was wearing and the elastic in the leg would help keep the pad in place. Then came disillusionment when she realised the knickers were far too big to make a pad. But the feeling of hopelessness didn’t last long, because she was determined not to be beaten. That would mean her mother had won, and she couldn’t let that happen. So she began pulling at the seams of the material and found it ripped easily, being so old and well worn. And five minutes later, with the pad in place and easing the pain, Lucy was smiling as she pulled her best dress over her head.

‘Who’s a clever girl, then?’ she asked herself in a low voice, feeling very proud of her achievement. ‘Yer can do anything if yer try hard enough.’

But as she skipped lightly down the stairs, Lucy knew that no matter how hard she tried, she would never forgive her mother for what she had done today.

Bob stood outside the Pollards’ house with Irene and George, waiting to wave Titch and his young friends off. ‘There’s about fifteen pubs between here and the picturehouse,’ George reminded him. ‘D’yer think yer can resist the temptation?’

‘I’ve got a blindfold in me pocket.’ A huge grin covered the weatherbeaten face. Titch wouldn’t admit it, but he was as excited as the children. They were doing him a favour, not the other way around. ‘When we get to the top of the street I’m going to put it on and the kids can lead me.’

‘I’ll lead yer, Mr Titch,’ Lucy said, her hand held tight in his. ‘I won’t let yer walk into no lamp-post.’

‘And me and Greg will make sure yer don’t walk into a pub by accident,’ Jack said with his usual deadpan face. ‘We’ll put a hand over yer nose when we pass one so yer won’t be tempted.’

Titch shook his head at Irene and the two fathers. ‘Yer had no need to train them, yer know. I got all the instructions off me ma, this afternoon. I’m not allowed to smoke, drink or use bad language. But she gave me permission to breathe, I’m happy to say.’ He squeezed Lucy’s hand. ‘Come on, let’s go, or we’ll miss the shorts. I hope Laurel and Hardy are on, they’re me favourites.’

When they reached the top of the street they all turned around for one last wave. ‘They’ll worry themselves sick until ye’re home again,’ Titch said. ‘I don’t think they trust me, having no family of me own.’

‘Even when ye’re grown up, do parents still tell yer what to do?’ Jack asked, walking on Lucy’s other side. ‘If they do, there’s not much point in growing up, is there?’

‘A mother stays a mother all of her life. You might grow up and change, but she never will. She’ll always love yer and worry about yer. But yer’ve got one consolation when ye’re grown up, son – yer don’t get a clip around the ear if yer don’t do what she says.’

‘I can’t wait to be grown up.’ The words were out before Lucy could stop them. ‘And my mam doesn’t have to worry about me, ’cos I’ll be able to look after meself.’

Titch kept his voice casual. ‘I’m sure you don’t get many clips around the ear off your mam, do yer?’

It was Greg who answered. ‘Yeah, she does. Her mam’s always clouting her and bawling at her. We can hear it in our house.’ He saw the warning glance his brother gave him, but ignored it. ‘I’m glad she’s not my mam.’

Lucy could feel the colour rise from her neck to cover her face. ‘She doesn’t hit me no more, me dad told her she hadn’t got to.’

‘I should jolly well hope she doesn’t.’ Titch bit on his bottom lip. Out of the mouths of babes comes the truth, he thought. ‘If she ever tries to hit yer again, sweetheart, run like blazes out of the house and wait for yer dad to come home.’

‘She can always run to ours,’ Jack said. ‘Me mam would look after her.’ He leaned forward and looked past Lucy to catch Titch’s eye. ‘Me mam always wanted a daughter, yer know. She told us that before each of us was born, everything she knitted was in pink. And of course she couldn’t throw it away, so we had to wear the stuff. I’ve been told I was dressed like a girl until I was two years of age.’

‘Ye’re not the only one,’ Greg told him. ‘I was, too! Me mam said she was sure the second baby would be a girl, she didn’t think she could be unlucky twice. Me dad used to pull our leg soft about it, didn’t he, Jack? He said people used to pop their head around the pram hood and say, “Oh, isn’t she lovely, what have yer called her?”’

Titch roared with laughter. ‘Your mam wouldn’t swap you two for a dozen girls. She loves every hair on yer heads and every bone in yer bodies.’

‘Yea, we know that.’ Jack stroked his chin thoughtfully. ‘Mind you, a dozen girls would be quite a temptation. Six I’d feel safe with, but twelve would have me worried. I believe she’d give the matter careful consideration.’

‘Go ’way, soft lad,’ Lucy said, not quite used to Jack’s dry sense of humour. ‘Your mam wouldn’t swap you for all the rice in China.’ Her brow furrowed. ‘Or should it be all the tea in China? I forget.’

‘Both commodities are plentiful in China, sweetheart, so either will do.’ Titch looked down into a pair of bright green eyes set in a heart-shaped face framed by a mass of dark curly hair. How, he asked himself, could any mother not love this girl? Ruby obviously didn’t or she wouldn’t hurt her. ‘I believe there’s two special treats coming up next week, eh? One of yer is having a birthday and the other leaving school. Now which is which?’

Lucy giggled, bringing a smile to all three faces. ‘It’s me having a birthday, I’ll be twelve years of age. I’ll change over with Jack if he likes, ’cos I wish it was me leaving school.’

‘Fat chance of that!’ Jack said, stretching to his full height. ‘I’ve been waiting fourteen years for this.’

‘I’m included in these treats, Mr Titch.’ Greg gave him a broad wink. ‘I’ve got a brother what’s leaving school, going into long kecks, getting himself a job and giving me thruppence a week pocket money.’

‘Some hope you’ve got, soft lad,’ Jack said. ‘If yer behave yerself I might give yer a penny, and then yer’ll have to clean me shoes to get it.’

They reached the cinema entrance and Titch let go of Lucy’s hand to delve in his pocket for the ticket money. ‘What’s it to be? Front stalls, back stalls, the circle or up in the gods?’

‘Can we go in the front stalls, please?’ Greg asked. ‘If we sit at the back, it would be just my luck to sit behind a big fat woman with a hat on.’

‘And don’t forget the ostrich feather,’ Jack said. ‘If she’s got a hat on, it’s bound to have a flipping big ostrich feather sticking up on it.’

‘The front stalls it is.’ Titch was chuckling to himself as he paid for the tickets. It was a long time since he’d
enjoyed himself so much. Then he crossed the foyer to the kiosk where there was a lady selling sweets. ‘What would yer like? How about fruit pastilles?’ Three eager faces nodded, and Titch gave the order to the assistant. ‘Three packets of pastilles and one packet of jelly babies, please.’ As he waited for his change, he spied the three children giving each other looks. ‘The jelly babies are for me, they’re me favourites.’

‘Ooh, I like jelly babies,’ Lucy said. ‘They’re my favourites too.’

‘And mine!’ Greg gave his brother a dig in the ribs. ‘And they’re yours, as well, so why don’t yer open yer mouth?’

‘I know,’ Jack said, looking sheepish. ‘But I thought jelly babies were like marbles. You parted company with them when yer left school.’

‘Not on your life! If yer like something, yer don’t stop liking it just because ye’re getting older.’ Titch remembered what his mother had told him, and added, ‘Except for playing marbles, of course. I mean, can yer imagine me kneeling in the gutter? I’d look a right nit.’ He turned back to the kiosk where the woman was standing with a smile on her face and three packets of jelly babies in her hand. ‘I’m sorry to be a nuisance,’ he said as they did a swap, ‘but they might as well have what they want.’

‘Don’t worry about it, just enjoy the picture.’

‘I’m going next door to wait for Lucy.’

Ruby looked up from the paper she was reading. ‘My God, d’yer think the wind might have blown on her?’

Bob walked out without answering. He was weary of all the slanging matches and the arguing. The only way to cope with it, and stay sane, was to ignore it. It didn’t seem to worry Ruby, she thrived on it.

Irene opened the door and the welcoming smile on her face had Bob comparing her to the woman he’d just left. He shouldn’t compare them, he knew, but the whole atmosphere
was so different it was hard not to. This house was in a different world to the one next door.

‘I was just going to put the kettle on, so yer’ve timed it nicely.’ She held the door wide. ‘The gang should be home any time now.’

‘It’s to be hoped Titch hasn’t taken on more than he can chew.’ Bob raised a hand in salute to George. ‘Taking three children to the pictures could turn out to be a headache.’

‘Don’t you kid yerself,’ George laughed. ‘He’ll have a whale of a time with them. He’s so good with children, it’s a pity he hasn’t any of his own.’