The Throwaway Children (2 page)

They walked back to Ship Street, Rosie skipping along holding Gran’s hand on one side and Rita walking silently on the other. Lily knew that Rita thought that she, Lily, had let her down. She had come to her for refuge and she was being taken back home. But what else could she do? Mavis would be out of her mind with worry when the girls didn’t come home. She had to get them back as quickly as possible.

When they reached the house and opened the door, Mavis was in the kitchen, sitting at the table with a pot of tea in front of her. She looked up as they came in and her eyes widened with surprise when she saw her mother was with the girls.

‘Hallo, Mum,’ she said. ‘What you doing here?’

‘I’ve brought the girls home,’ replied her mother.

‘Oh.’ Mavis looked vaguely at the kitchen clock. ‘Did you meet them in the street?’

‘They came to see me,’ said Lily carefully. ‘Look, Mavis, we need to talk. Why don’t you give them their tea and then we can have a chat.’

Mavis shrugged. ‘It ain’t ready yet. You two go and play out.’ She nodded at the door. ‘I’ll call you when tea’s ready.’

Rita grabbed Rosie’s hand. ‘Come on, Rosie. I saw Maggie outside.’

When the girls had gone, Lily pulled out a chair and sat down. ‘What have you done to your face?’ she asked as she noticed the darkening bruise on Mavis’s cheek for the first time.

Mavis coloured. ‘Bumped into the door.’

Lily gave her a long look but then decided to let it go. ‘Reet brought them round to me, after school. She didn’t want to come home. She said you and Jimmy was fighting.’

‘Not fighting, no!’ snapped Mavis. ‘We was arguing a bit last night, that’s all. Nothing in that!’

‘Rita heard you,’ said Lily. ‘It upset her.’

‘She don’t have to be upset. It was only an argument.’

‘Like the one you had with the door.’

‘Look, Mum,’ Mavis exploded, ‘you ain’t got no right to come round here, interfering in my life. What I do is my business. Who I see is my business and how I look after my kids is my business.’

‘Mavis, they’re scared of Jimmy,’ Lily persisted.

‘Well, they’ll just have to get over it,’ snapped Mavis. ‘He’s here to stay, and they’ll have to get used to him.’ She looked across at her mother and all of a sudden her face crumpled. ‘I’ve been to the doctor today, Mum. Oh, no, not about the bruise. Jimmy’s already said he’s sorry for doing that. It won’t happen again, he’s not like that really. No, I went ’cos, well, ’cos I’m in the family way.’ She pressed her hands against her stomach. ‘About four months.’

‘And it’s Jimmy’s?’

‘Course it’s Jimmy’s! What do you take me for?’

‘Is he pleased?’ asked Lily, wondering if this had caused last night’s row.

‘He don’t know yet,’ admitted Mavis. ‘I only went to the doctor today… though I knew really. Haven’t had the curse for five months, and I’m beginning to show.’

‘So, when are you going to tell him?’

‘Don’t know. Maybe tonight. Have to pick my moment.’

‘And the girls? You’ll have to tell them.’

‘They don’t need to know,’ muttered Mavis, ‘not for ages yet… and you’re not to tell them, Mum. Right? I got to get on with the girls’ tea so’s they’re done before Jimmy comes home.’ Mavis went on, and cutting two slices of bread began to spread them with marge. ‘You want to go and call them in?’

Lily went to the front door and looked out. She saw the girls further down the street playing hopscotch on the pavement. She watched them for several moments, smiling as she saw Rita flailing her arms as she balanced on one leg, trying to pick up her stone, but her smile faded as she thought about what Mavis had just told her. The lives of her two granddaughters were certainly going to change, but even in her wildest dreams Lily could not have guessed just how much.

Jimmy did not come back to Ship Street that evening until well after the children were in bed, though Mavis had made his tea in the expectation that he would be home by about six as usual. Jimmy actually lived with his widower father, but came round for most of his meals and expected them to be ready on the table when he arrived. Today, however, he had been out drinking with his mate, Charlie, celebrating the fact that he now had a job labouring on a building site. It was not the sort of work Jimmy would have chosen, but at least it brought in some money, cash in hand, and he was short of cash. There was plenty of labouring work about, what with all the bombsites to be cleared and the rebuilding. Then there was stuff you could pick up there, too, if you were careful and didn’t let the foreman see you. Clearing the rubble from the bombed-out houses, Charlie told him, you never knew what you might find. On sites reclaimed by weeds and other vegetation, you could often find something worth having, something you could sell on, down the pub. Celebration was in order, so Jimmy and Charlie celebrated.

It was late when he finally staggered into Mavis’s kitchen. Mavis was sitting at the table doing her mending, but she did not put down the jersey she was darning; she simply looked up and smiled. That made Jimmy suddenly angry. She ought to jump up to welcome him home and put his tea on the table, especially as he’d got the job, especially as he’d have money in his pocket now, especially as the stupid woman would expect him to contribute to the food bills. Things were definitely going to change around here.

He dropped down onto a chair. ‘Where’s my tea?’ he growled.

‘In the oven,’ Mavis said, hastily laying aside her darning and getting up. ‘I’ll get it for you. It may be a little bit dry… I was expecting you a bit earlier than this.’ She reached into the oven and brought out a plate of sausage and mash. There had been onion gravy, too, but it had dried into a brown mass on the side of the plate.

Jimmy looked at the food she set in front of him and then turned furious eyes on her. ‘What d’yer call this?’ he demanded. ‘Looks like a plate of shit!’ He swept the plate aside and it crashed on the floor. Mavis took a step back as Jimmy got unsteadily to his feet, and glowered at her across the table. ‘Get that mess cleared up,’ he shouted, ‘and get me something to eat!’

As she knelt down to pick up the broken plate and to scrape the food off the floor, she felt him towering over her. Instinctively she cringed away from him, squeaking as she did so, ‘Don’t hit me, Jimmy! I’m pregnant. I’m expecting your child.’

It made him pause, made him grip the table to steady himself. ‘Fucking hell! That’s all I need,’ he said, and slumped back down onto the chair. Then he put his head onto the table and went to sleep.

Somehow Mavis had managed to rouse him and get him upstairs. Somehow she manoeuvred him onto the bed. She pulled off his shoes and, throwing a blanket over him, left him to sleep it off. She crept out of the bedroom and peeped in at her daughters, asleep in their room. At least, she supposed they were asleep. There was no sign of either of them being awake, but you never knew with Reet. She was a deceitful kid; she must have heard them the previous night and sneaked off to her gran’s to tell tales and bring Gran round to interfere. She stood for a long minute outside the door, but nothing stirred.

Mavis went back downstairs, cleared up the mess on the floor and making herself a cup of tea, sat down, exhausted. Would Jimmy remember in the morning? she wondered. It wasn’t how she’d meant to tell him about the baby, not blurt it out like that, but the words had burst out all by themselves. Would he remember? Would he react better when he’d thought about it, or would he walk out on her, leaving her to cope with three children?

He’d like the idea of being a dad, wouldn’t he? Especially if it was a boy. Surely he’d want a son; all men wanted a son, didn’t they?

For a moment she thought of Don. He hadn’t minded what they had. ‘As long as it’s got all its bits, love,’ he’d said, patting the bulge of her belly, ‘that’s all right with me!’ And it had been. He’d adored Rita, and would surely have felt the same about Rosie, if he’d been around when she was born.

Surely Jimmy would love his own child, once he got used to the idea he was going to be a father. Then they could get married quickly, so that the baby wasn’t a bastard.

In the morning, leaving Jimmy still snoring, Mavis got the girls ready for school.

‘You’re to come straight home today,’ she instructed Rita. ‘Do you hear me, Reet? No going round your gran’s and bothering her.’

‘Yes, Mum.’ Rita was very subdued. She had heard the crashing plate last night, and she’d heard Mum helping Uncle Jimmy up the stairs. She’d stayed still and quiet in the bed and at last drifted off to sleep. But in the morning she remembered it all, and it frightened her. She was pleased when she and Rosie set off for school before he came downstairs.

It was some time later that Jimmy pushed open the kitchen door and peered in.

‘What’s for breakfast?’ he asked by way of greeting.

‘Can make you some toast,’ Mavis suggested cautiously.

‘That’s not much for a man to go to work on,’ he grumbled, flopping down at the table. There was a pot of tea made and Mavis quickly poured him a cup, before putting a couple of slices of bread under the grill.

‘You got the job, then?’ she ventured.

‘Course I did. Told you that last night when I come home. Start on Monday.’ He hadn’t, but no point in upsetting him now when he seemed in an affable mood. He drank his tea as he watched her turn the toast and then slide it onto a plate. He reached for the marge and spread some thinly on the toast before taking a huge bite.

The last of my marge, Mavis thought bitterly. We’ve no more till next week.

‘I need your ration book,’ she said, as she watched him scrape the last smears onto his second piece of toast. ‘I can’t cope without it no more.’

Jimmy shrugged. ‘It’s not as if I’m here all the time.’

‘Enough that I need your rations,’ she said, surprising herself with her own temerity. ‘Jimmy, I can’t let the girls go short and now, in my condition…’ She let the words hang in the air, waiting.

He looked up. ‘Your condition? Oh yes, I remember, you’re up the spout.’

‘It’s your baby, Jimmy!’ she said. ‘Our baby. I’m having our baby.’

Jimmy said nothing.

‘Jimmy,’ she ventured again. ‘We’re having a baby. You’re going to be a dad.’

‘I heard you,’ growled Jimmy. ‘What do you want me to do about it? Dance a jig? How do I know it’s mine?’

‘Oh, Jimmy, of course it’s yours. Whose else would it be? You’re the only man I’ve… been with… since Don died.’

‘So you say.’

Tears filled Mavis’s eyes. ‘Jimmy, you know it’s true! You know you’re the only man in my life.’

‘If you say so.’

‘I
do
say so. It’s our baby, and it’ll be born late June, a summer baby.’

‘Well, if it’s mine, it’s mine,’ Jimmy said grudgingly.

‘It is… but Jimmy, I don’t want… I mean it wouldn’t be right… I mean we need to think…’

‘For Christ’s sake, woman, spit out.’

Mavis drew a deep breath. ‘I don’t want it to be a bastard, Jimmy.’

When he said nothing she took her courage in both hands and went on, ‘I want us to get married, Jimmy. Before it’s born. That’s what I want.’

‘Married?’ Jimmy sounded incredulous. ‘Married?’

‘I don’t want it born a bastard, Jimmy.’

‘Married,’ he said again, as if tasting the word.

She waited, knowing if she said the wrong thing, he would say no, walk out and leave.

At last he said, ‘I’ll think about it. It’s a big step, getting married.’ He looked across at her. ‘If we get married and I move in here, them girls are going to have to go. I told you, I ain’t taking on someone else’s brats.’

‘What do you mean, the girls must go? They’re my daughters. Why must they go? Where must they go? Their place is with me! This is their home!’

Jimmy shrugged and got to his feet. ‘If it’s their home, it ain’t going to be mine,’ he said. ‘It’s up to you, Mav. If you want me to stand by you, to marry you, make you respectable like, well, I will, but I won’t take on another bloke’s kids. Right? Not with my own kid to think of. You got to find them somewhere else.’ He reached for his coat and putting it on, went to the door. Looking back at her he went on, ‘It’s your decision, Mav. I ain’t going to change my mind.’ And with that he left, closing the door behind him.

Mavis stared after him bemused. What did he mean, the girls had got to go? They were her girls and belonged with her. She thought of Rita and Rosie as she’d seen them that morning, setting off to school, Rosie with her hand trustingly in Rita’s as they walked along the street. It was Rita who was the problem. Reet could be difficult, especially recently. She’d been moody, not the sunny little girl she used to be. It was Reet who annoyed Jimmy, who wouldn’t do what he told her. It was Rita’s fault that Jimmy didn’t like her. She was being obstinate and rude and it wouldn’t be long before Rosie started to copy her. She always copied Rita. But Rosie was lovely. She looked so like Don.

Mavis hadn’t thought of Don much for quite a long time. She got to her feet and went to the drawer in which she had hidden his photograph. Jimmy had ‘accidentally’ knocked it off the shelf and taking the hint, she had hidden it in the drawer. She got it out now and looked at Don. He smiled back at her as he always had done, as trustingly as Rosie, trusting her with his children. She looked at his face for a long time. He’d never forgive her if she didn’t look after his girls. But he wasn’t there to forgive her, was he? He was lost, exploded, burned to ashes somewhere over Germany. He hadn’t come back and she’d been left to bring up the girls on her own. Now she had a chance to start a new life, with a new man. Surely Don wouldn’t begrudge her that. Surely he would say, ‘Go for it, girlie. Be happy! Go for it, girlie.’ Girlie, his pet name for her. She blinked back the tears that had crept into the corners of her eyes. She had to be strong. Don wasn’t here, he never would be again, and she had to get on with her life. She had the new baby to think of. She had to provide for the new baby. She couldn’t let it start out life as a bastard.

Mavis didn’t have to go to her cleaning job with Mrs Robinson today, and walking through the park on her way to the grocer’s she sat down for a rest on a bench, watching a family of tiny ducklings dashing through the water behind their mother. Mavis smiled as one went astray, swimming in the wrong direction. Mrs Duck wasn’t at all concerned; she simply swam on, leaving the lost duckling to cheep pitifully behind her.