‘Better not,’ Patty said. ‘All my instruments have to be sterilised and things like dressings burned ’cos I’ve been nursing a contagious case. As soon as I’m able, though, I shall go round and talk to Mrs Knight. Then I’ll come round to you, so if you’ll hang on to Merrell till then I shall be very grateful.’
As soon as Mrs Clarke had left Patty finished her work and then set out for the house next door. Mrs Knight welcomed her in and, as Mrs Clarke had done, asked her what she was doing at home in the middle of the afternoon. Patty looked round cautiously as she explained what had happened, but there was no sign of Darky. She knew he worked shifts at Levers but guessed he was doing days at present, so accepted Mrs Knight’s offer of tea and shortbread and a seat by her glowing stove. There was no need to tell Mrs Knight why she was there. Her neighbour beamed at her and said expansively: ‘Ada Clarke explained she were goin’ back to work and that you’d both like me to keep an eye on the little ’uns durin’ term time,’ she said. ‘I were downright honoured to think that you’d trust me with little Merrell, but I can promise you she’ll have every care while she’s under this roof, same as Christopher will, of course. It were a terrible blow to me when young Alison died and lost her baby, because I’ve always longed for grandchildren. But there you are, there’s sadness in every life and my poor lad has had to suffer more than most.’
‘Yes, I’ve heard that young Mrs Knight died tragically,’ Patty said gently. ‘I’m so sorry, Mrs Knight. But are you quite sure that your son won’t mind you taking Merrell in? It might bring the sad times back, make him realise what he’s missed. I wouldn’t want that to happen. And what about when he’s on a night shift and needs quiet during the day so he can sleep?’
‘Oh, don’t you worry yourself about that, queen,’ Mrs Knight said comfortably. ‘When Darky’s doing a night relay – they call ’em relays and not shifts at Levers – I’ll take the babies out walking in their pram if I think they’re goin’ to disturb him. He has cousins living out Bootle way and two of the girls have kids of their own, all under school age. Darky fairly dotes on ’em, seems to find it easier talkin’ to kids than grownups, to own the truth. I just wish he’d meet some nice young woman and settle down with her, but he says it’s too soon. “Four years is a long time,” I tell him but he says he can’t forget and what’s more he don’t want to. The Father telled me that time is a great healer, and though Darky may never forget his little wife, one day he will be able to remember her without pain. When that happens, he’ll be ready to take up his life again.’
Patty made sympathetic noises and presently she and Mrs Knight got down to business and talked through the arrangements which must be made as soon as Mrs Clarke returned to her factory bench. Mrs Knight repeated her offer to give Maggie and the two little ones a midday meal during the school holidays but Patty, unwilling to commit her little friend until they had talked it over, said vaguely that the question would not arise for a while.
‘Maggie and I will have a good old jangle this evening and sort out times and so on,’ Patty assured the older woman. ‘I can’t tell you how grateful I am for your kindness, Mrs Knight. I really don’t trust a child minder to do the right thing by Merrell; I shall be far happier knowing that she’s in your charge.’
‘Aren’t I just lookin’ forward to the summer now!’ Mrs Knight said, accompanying Patty on to the landing. ‘I don’t mind telling you, Nurse, that it’s been a pretty lonely life for me, wi’ Darky working. And he’s a changed feller since Alison’s death. We used to have a hand of cards before the fire in winter, or he’d bring pals in for a few drinks and some sandwiches. I’m mortal fond o’ whist drives and I used to belong to the Townswomen’s Guild but I give that all up after Darky came back to live in Ashfield Place.’ For the first time she looked a little confused. ‘It – it seemed kind o’ mean to go out and about on me own affairs when my poor boy was stuck in, wi’ nowt but memories.’
‘Well, perhaps looking after the children will be good for both of you,’ Patty said. ‘After all, you’ll be wanting to take them out in the afternoons, especially when summer comes, and I don’t see why you shouldn’t start going to whist drives again because I believe your son goes out most evenings.’
‘Well, maybe I will,’ Mrs Knight said. She sounded very much more cheerful. ‘To tell the truth, Nurse, I’ve let things slide a bit, but wi’ the little ’uns to keep me busy during the day I reckon I’ll be more cheerful altogether. Tell you what, how about you an’ me takin’ ourselves off on a bit of a spree – wi’ the kids, of course, an’ Maggie – one weekend. We could go to Rhyl by charabanc when summer comes; it ’ud be good for all of us.’
Chuckling to herself, Patty opened the door, and said it sounded like a good idea. Although she had been uncertain at first, she felt now that Mrs Clarke’s suggestion had been a good one from which they would probably all benefit. Satisfied that she was doing the right thing, Patty returned to her own home, poked the fire into a blaze and began to prepare their tea.
‘You’ve done
what
?’ Darky’s voice rose and his mother put a finger to her lips and jerked her head significantly at the party wall between their flat and that of Nurse Peel. ‘Mam, you’re impossible! You can’t want that … that little tart in and out of here whenever she pleases, just because—’
‘Derek! I oughter make you wash your perishin’ mouth out wi’ carbolic soap! Just who d’you think you’re callin’ a tart? Merrell? Or young Maggie? Come to that, you can’t possibly mean Nurse Peel herself – a nicer, more sensible young woman never breathed! Why, she’s bringin’ her little one up beautifully, never stints what she spends on her, no doubt constantly goes without herself … and she’s the same wi’ young Maggie, what’s no kin o’ hers! I were talkin’ to Maggie only the other day and she telled me that Nurse Peel pays Mr Mullins half a crown every week so’s she can keep Maggie livin’ wi’ her and the littl’un. There’s not many what would do that; many a family teks on a cousin or a niece to help wi’ their kids but they’re more likely to ask for money than to hand it over. And what’s more, if anyone hears what you’ve been sayin’ there’ll be no question of me taking care of Nurse Peel’s little girl or the little Clarke boy and I really want to have them. They’ll be company like, so I’ll thank you to keep a civil tongue in your head when you’re talking about our neighbour. Indeed, I’m ashamed that any son o’ mine should think such things, lerralone say ’em.’
Darky tightened his lips, though he felt the hot colour rise to his cheeks. The trouble was, he had never told his mam what he thought of Nurse Peel, never admitted that he had listened to her spreading gossip about himself. Perhaps he should have done so. As it was, his dislike must seem illogical. He took a deep breath and tried to speak out boldly. ‘The truth is, Mam, I overheard her tellin’ Mrs Clarke that I’d tried to top meself after Alison died. I’ve done me best to forget that awful time and, as I’ve told you – and I told the police – it were an accident. I were just so desperate for a night’s sleep that I took too many aspirin tablets. I don’t deny I were terribly unhappy but I’m not a fool. If I’d really meant to kill meself, I’d have done it properly, not made such a poor job of it.’
He tried to make the last remark sound light and amusing but his mother did not smile. ‘Look, son,’ she said. ‘You spend too much time dwelling on what’s past and gone. If Nurse Peel told Mrs Clarke anything she don’t know already, I’ll be rare surprised. After all, no one can cover up police inquiries and you being lugged off to hospital in view of all your neighbours. Nurse Peel didn’t even live here when you was brought back to my place, so if you ask me it’s likelier that young Ada were explaining to the nurse why you lived here wi’ your mam and don’t go out wi’ girls much. And if you want to stop that sort of gossip, there’s an easy way to do it: go out more; start acting like other young fellers instead of stalking around lookin’ miserable.’
It had not occurred to Darky until his mother had said so but now, thinking it over, he realised that it was quite possibly Ada Clarke who had done most of the gossiping. Even so, he still did not like the thought of Nurse Peel’s having the run of his home, and decided that if he did not stop it now he would be in no position to do so later.
‘Well, son? I can read you like a book! You know I’m right, don’t you. It were Ada tellin’ Nurse Peel and not the other way round.’
‘Yes, I reckon you’re right at that,’ Darky said grudgingly. ‘But she’s a bleedin’ midwife and it were one of them what caused Alison’s death, you know it were. What’s more, I telled you before, Mam, she’s no better’n she should be. She comes here wi’ her love-child, bold as brass, tellin’ decent women like Ada Clarke and Lizzie Clitheroe how to run their lives …’
‘Nonsense,’ Mrs Knight said briskly. ‘I know it were a long time ago but it’s no secret that your dad and me wed because you were on the way! The trouble was we’d had a long engagement, and an understandin’ even longer than that … but you wouldn’t call me a tart, would you, son?’
Darky grinned, admitting defeat, he knew, and suddenly not minding all that much. ‘Not twice I wouldn’t, Mam,’ he said. ‘So all right, I shouldn’t have called her a tart, but with you, Dad were always in the background, eager to get wed an’ make an honest woman of you. I’ve never seen a feller near number twenty-four. Why, the girl ain’t even courtin’ from what folks say.’
Mrs Knight sniffed. ‘
From what folks say
,’ she mimicked. ‘So who’s gossipin’ now, eh, lad?’
Darky laughed outright and turned to give his mother a hug. You had to admire her spirit and quickness of mind; it would be a clever feller who could put one over on his mam. ‘OK, OK, I give in,’ he said, still smiling. ‘If you want to look after half the neighbourhood then it’s up to you, and I’m sure Nurse Peel will pay you regular and behave as she ought and I’ll try to be polite if I possibly can.’
‘A decent feller’s polite to all women,’ his mother said reprovingly. She went over to their pantry and began to get out the ingredients for tea. ‘As for dislikin’ someone because of their job – well, I’ve never heard of anything so foolish! Your father were run over by a brewer’s dray delivering ale to the pub on the corner but it hasn’t stopped you from enjoying a pint, nor I don’t steer clear of the Jug and Bottle in case I might see the driver who killed your dad. Live and let live, I say, and I don’t go blamin’ folk for what they had no hand in. It’s time, chuck, that you did likewise.’
‘I’ll do me best, Mam,’ Darky said. He knew his mother was right really. It was high time he stopped dwelling on what had happened and could never be put right and started building his life again. He had contemplated getting a place of his own over the water, perhaps in Port Sunlight itself, but the recollection of how cold and lonely his little terraced house had seemed after Alison’s death put him off such a move. Unless he remarried, he told himself, he would prefer to stay at Ashfield Place, despite the long journey to work.
‘Oh, damn!’ Mrs Knight said suddenly, putting an oval plate and a loaf of bread down on the table. ‘I’m right out of margarine, son. Pop down to the corner shop, like the good feller you are, and get me half a pound of Stork. It won’t take you a minute.’
‘OK, Mam. I’m glad you’re supporting Levers by buying our products,’ Darky said, grinning. He left the flat and hurried along the balcony to clatter down the stairs two at a time, and was almost at the bottom when he saw young Maggie coming up.
The child grinned. ‘Hello, Mr Knight,’ she said politely. ‘Off to work, are you?’
‘No, I’m gettin’ the messages for me mam,’ Darky said. He decided to start as his mam meant him to go on and fished in his pocket for some loose change. ‘Tell you what, queen, want to earn yourself a penny? Me mam wants half a pound of Stork margarine. Would you like to get it and deliver it to our place?’
‘Sure I would,’ Maggie said gratefully, taking the handful of cash. ‘But where’s I to go?’
‘The corner shop will be fine, duck,’ he said and returned to his home, feeling a positive glow of rectitude. He told his mother that Maggie had gone for the margarine and Mrs Knight nodded approvingly. ‘She’s a grand little lass,’ she observed. ‘When the school holidays come, I’m arrangin’ to give her a midday dinner, along o’ the two babies. I’ll enjoy it, you know, having youngsters about me.’ She smiled a trifle wistfully up at her tall son. ‘I’m glad we’re pullin’ together over me givin’ an eye to the kids,’ she said gently. ‘It ain’t the money – you’ve always been generous – it’s just that I miss having young things about me. To tell you the truth, I can’t wait for Monday mornin’ when Ada Clarke starts work at the factory!’
*
It was a bright August day. When Patty arrived home, she found Maggie and Mrs Knight facing one another across the kitchen table whilst the two children played happily on a large blanket surrounded by cushions. Merrell was walking now and Christopher beginning to toddle, though he had frequent falls, hence the blanket. For a moment, she stood in the doorway surveying the scene and reflecting how very lucky she was. Everything had worked out well, with Mrs Knight clearly enjoying the children’s company and the children loving her dearly. Merrell, who was already talking quite a lot, called her ‘Nanna’, and Christopher was already trying to follow suit. As for Maggie, she had taken to Mrs Knight’s ways like a duck to water and was eager to learn anything the older woman could teach her. Even though it was the summer holidays and Maggie was now officially in charge of the two children, she spent most of her day with Mrs Knight. They shopped together, and went to the park to feed the ducks, or to the playground for the swings and slides. They ate together at dinner time, and Mrs Knight appreciated Maggie’s help. She very sensibly worked out the finances of such meals, but since she only charged for ingredients Patty often felt guilty and so had begun to suggest that dinner should be prepared alternately in Nos. 23 and 24.