Water Gypsies (31 page)

There was no sound at the front of the house and all the windows were closed. The front windows were swathed in net curtains. The houses were built in twos, semidetached. Maryann eyed the little path running round to the back garden. She pushed past a hydrangea bush and stepped into the shadow of the house, its wall to one side, a fence on the other.

This is daft,
she thought, heart pounding.
I’ll just have a peep at the garden and then I’ll go. What am I going to see doing this?

She heard something then, though. Faintly, from somewhere at the back, she could hear a man’s voice. Sliding along the side of the building, Maryann saw there was a window open further along and she moved until she was standing close to it. It must be the kitchen’s side window, she realized: she could hear water running, then the clatter of cutlery being put into a drawer. There was a long silence, though Maryann could hear movements from inside, and her curiosity got the better of her. She leaned round and peered through the window, quickly moving back again so that no one should see her. But in that moment she saw that Sylvia was on the other side of the room at the sink, with her back to her, and she just caught a glimpse of Roy Cresswell sitting at the table, bent over something.

Maryann leaned round again. Roy Cresswell had one hand on the table and was holding a cigarette, above which the smoke hovered in an upward swirl. With the other he was holding a box, or biscuit tin, and shaking it, examining the contents. Maryann squinted. She couldn’t make out what was in the tin, but there was a shape on the table beside him, and she realized he must be building a model ship out of matches, or small slivers of wood. She could see three masts sticking up from the main hull.

Sylvia was wringing a cloth out at the sink. She hung it over the tap, dried her hands and placed the towel over the back of the chair with slow, deliberate neatness. As Sylvia turned, undoing her apron, Maryann shrank back until she was still just able to peer round the window-frame. Sylvia tugged at the apron strings and there was sharp anger in her movements. For a moment she stood with it crumpled in her hand, then flung it decisively down onto the table.

‘D’you know, Roy –’

He looked up, evidently startled by her tone.

‘I really don’t care what you think. You’re going tomorrow, anyway, so what possible difference can it make to you? I’m going back and that’s that. And it doesn’t matter a fig to me any more what you think about it. Think what you like.’

And she strode out of Maryann’s line of vision and left the kitchen.

Roy Cresswell sat for a moment staring ahead of him with the same blank expression. Maryann saw his jaw tighten. With a sudden movement, which made her jump, he brought his fist down on top of the matchstick model, smashing through it. He picked up the tin and hurled it with great force across the kitchen. Matches flew out and spilled all over the floor.

Thirty-One

They were up early the next morning. Dot handed Maryann a cup of tea in through the hatches, and she and Bobby stayed outside on the towpath, hands cupped round the hot mugs, shivering in the early morning chill although the sun was already beginning to break through. Around them they could hear the clanking of cranes beginning to work, the splash of water as men pumped out the holds of their boats and the distant, mournful sound of a ship’s siren. Soon the tannoy would start crackling and blaring over the wharves, calling crews to be assigned their loads.

They’d talked it over and over the night before – Roy Cresswell and the burst of temper Maryann had seen through the window.

‘I just don’t like the look of him at all,’ Maryann said on the way home, while the children were quietened by mouthfuls of sweets. ‘The way he threw that box across the room – and the way his face was. There’s something about him makes my flesh creep.’

‘He certainly struck me as
odd,’
Dot said, ‘but in the end you didn’t really see anything much, and you can’t just go barging in on other people’s marriages, can you? Sylvia’ll be back with us in a day or two, anyway.’

‘Darling Roy,’ Maryann mused. ‘She’s ever so loyal to him.’

‘Or the lady doth protest too much.’

‘What d’you mean?’

‘I’d guess she’s been covering up for him a bit. She’s certainly succeeded up until now, I’ll give her that. But she is nervy, isn’t she? Maybe that husband of hers accounts for it.’

They busied themselves with the morning chores, Maryann sorting out the children and shooing them outside, then starting on breakfast, and Dot and Bobby readying the boats for loading. Maryann had just begun on the food when she heard a cry of excitement from Rose, who was jumping excitedly on the counter.

‘Look – Sylvia’s coming!’

‘No –’ Maryann called up to her. ‘Not today, bab. She’ll be along soon, though. Couple of days.’

But Rose was off along the path and then Dot poked her head into the
Esther Jane,
looking bemused.

‘Sylvia’s already here, it seems.’

Maryann climbed out, shading her eyes in the morning glare. Sylvia’s neat figure was moving towards them along the path, carrying her bundle of belongings. As soon as she was close enough she threw it down on the path. She looked pale and exhausted. After a second Maryann realized this was almost the first time she had seen Sylvia without her make-up. It made her feel uneasy.

‘Hello, stranger!’ Dot exclaimed. ‘What’re you doing here?’

‘You’re early!’ Maryann said. ‘How the heck did you get here by this time?’

Sylvia gave a tight smile.‘Oh, Roy decided he ought to get back to his squadron a day early. So I thought, rather than miss you, I’d high-tail it over here as soon as I could. I woke very early, so I walked some of the way until the buses started running. Anyway, here I am. Sorry about yesterday, by the way.’

‘Not at all,’ Dot said. ‘Did your husband get off all right?’

‘Oh yes,’ Sylvia said brightly, leaning down slowly to pick up her things. As she bent over she gave a little grunt, as if it was a huge effort. Maryann saw Dot glance at her.

‘Here, let me take that.’ Dot swooped down for the bundle. ‘I expect you’re worn out already – you must have been up well before the lark! Oh, this is Bobby by the way.’

‘I’ll get you some tea,’ Bobby said.

‘Thanks awfully.’ Sylvia straightened up, and they all pretended not to see the tears in her eyes, which she quickly brushed away. ‘I could certainly do with it. And, Bobby, I’m sorry if this inconveniences you dreadfully. Are you going to be able to get another trip?’

‘Oh, I s’pect so,’ he said easily. ‘Don’t you worry.’

‘Thanks awfully.’ Sylvia’s eyes filled again. ‘You’re so kind, Bobby.’

She held out her arms to Rose, who was waiting expectantly.

‘Are you coming with us now, Sylvia?’ Rose asked.

‘Oh,
yes,’
Sylvia said. Suddenly she held the little girl close and the tears she had been holding back spilled down her face. She put Rose down. ‘It’s all right, darling,’ Sylvia reassured her, wiping her eyes again, but still unable to stem her tears. ‘It’s so lovely to see you, but I do miss my Kay and Dickie as well. Oh, I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to do this!’

‘You’re all right,’ Maryann comforted her. Why don’t you just go and settle in? I’ll get us some breakfast.’

‘Why’s Sylvia crying?’ Sally asked as Dot helped Sylvia take her things to the
Theodore.
With Bobby gone, Dot would be able to move back in there herself.

‘Oh – I think it’s just saying goodbye to her children and her house,’ Maryann said. But she felt uneasy. Seeing Sylvia’s house yesterday and her husband, she had suddenly begun to view her in a new light. She had so much wanted to believe in a perfect marriage and family, a perfect life, but it wasn’t like that. Somehow she felt cheated and worried for Sylvia. But she couldn’t just ask, could she? Not about things that were private like that. She knew she didn’t like it when people asked her questions.

Bobby was taking the last of his things from the cabin of the
Theodore
when she carried food over to them. Maryann felt a rush of fondness for him.

‘Here, get that down you before you go.’ She handed him a couple of sausages with hunks of bread. ‘Thanks, Bobby – you’ve been marvellous. And we’ll be back to normal soon – Joel back and that.’

Bobby nodded shyly. ‘S’all right. I shouldn’t have no problem finding a trip. We’ll all be back right as rain in a few weeks. Sorry to go, though.’ He glanced at the cabin of the
Theodore
and just as he did so Dot climbed out.

‘Breakfast,’ Maryann said. ‘Pass the other one to Sylvia, will you?’

‘I’ll be off then, soon.’ Bobby said.

‘So you will.’ Dot stood, somehow at a loss. She looked down at her boots then back at Bobby. ‘It won’t be the same – not without you to squabble with!’

A grin spread over Bobby’s handsome face. ‘You’re all right,’ he said, then added with a chuckle, ‘Dorothy Higgs-Deveraux!’

Dot blushed. ‘All right – I can’t help it!’

There was a crackle and a hiss and a voice called out harshly over the tannoy, ‘Mrs Bartholomew, Bartholomew, of S. E. Barlow carriers – to the office, please!’

Putting her half-finished breakfast down, Maryann hurried over to be assigned the next load.

The office was already humming with activity and the red-faced man at the desk handed her her clearance papers, hardly even looking up at her.

‘Steel billets – up to Tyseley.’

Maryann froze. She couldn’t seem to force her hand out to take the papers. She could hear the blood banging in her ears.

‘Come on – here y’are.’

‘But–’

‘What’s the matter?’ He spoke impatiently. You’re unloaded and ready, aren’t you?’

‘Yes.’ How could she begin to explain why the thought of going to Birmingham filled her with such fear? There was a huge quantity of steel to be shipped to the Midlands and it was one of the main cargoes and a good load. Why on earth would she object? The silence went on and her cheeks burned. She felt more and more stupid, as if everyone in the office was watching her. Forcing her hand out, she took the papers and walked shakily out into the fresh morning. She pulled her old cardigan round her and stood for a moment, looking out across the low tide of the dock. She took in a deep breath, smelling the rank mud.

I won’t be afraid,
she told herself.
I won’t let him make me be afraid.
And she turned and marched back to the boats, where the others were waiting.

Right, let’s get going,’ she said. We’re carrying steel to Tyseley.’

‘Can you come?’

Dot was standing out in the darkness. They’d tied up quite late after the first long day of work, of getting used to crewing together again. ‘It’s Sylvia. In a state. I need you. You know me. Can’t think what to say.’

Maryann glanced round her cabin. The children were only just settling for the night.

‘I’ve got to go and see Sylvia for a minute. Go to sleep,’ she commanded, fairly certain they would. It had been a hard day and it was late. She felt fluttery with nerves, wondering what was wrong. It was only at times like this that the age gap between Dot and the other two of them became so obvious. Dot hadn’t the experience of men and marriage.

It had started to drizzle and Maryann could feel the droplets brushing her face as they stumbled back to the butty in the dark. From inside the
Theodore
came the low sound of Sylvia sobbing. Maryann felt Dot’s hand on her arm.

‘Thing is,’ she whispered, she’s been all right all day. At least I thought she was. We were just getting ready for bed and I knocked her with my elbow by mistake, when I was taking off my woolly. And she just
crumpled.
I don’t know … I’m so bad at all this.’

So am I,
Maryann thought. She already felt overwrought because of her own worries, but she was full of unease about what she had seen at Sylvia’s house. Not that she’d seen much, but there was just something about the atmosphere, about Roy Cresswell that had disturbed her.

‘Let’s go in to her,’ she whispered to Dot.

Sylvia was sitting on the side bench opposite the stove, on which the dipper stood which she had been using to have a wash. Rose was flat out, asleep on the bigger bed. Sylvia had her blouse unbuttoned down the front and was holding the sides of it together across her chest, arms wrapped round herself, head down and shivering. Maryann cautiously sat beside her.

‘Sylv?’ she spoke softly, but instinct told her not to touch the woman.

There was a silence before Sylvia said, ‘I just can’t stop crying.’ She sniffed and loosed one arm to search for her hanky. It was the first time Maryann could remember her not having one to hand. She wiped her eyes, but more tears ran down her cheeks, shining in the lamplight. She stared ahead of her. Her shivering seemed to increase in intensity.

Dot picked up the kettle and indicated that she was going outside to fill it from the water can. ‘I think we need some tea,’ she said.

Into the silence, Maryann whispered, What happened?’

Sylvia turned to her, looking into Maryann’s eyes as if seaching for something and her own filled with tears again.

‘Oh, Maryann, I’ve tried so hard, for so long.’

‘I know,’ Maryann said soothingly, sensing it was the right thing to say. I know you have.’

Abruptly, Sylvia pulled open her blouse and let it slide down over her shoulders so she was naked but for her brassiere.

‘
This
is what happened.’

Even in the poor light Maryann could see the welts, sharp and angry across Sylvia’s back and shoulders. Just then Dot climbed back in and stared, wide-eyed, at the sight of Sylvia’s back.

‘Dear God!’ she breathed.

‘Oh, Sylvia.’ Maryann couldn’t hide how appalled she felt either. ‘That looks terrible. Why didn’t you say before? Those must have hurt so much all day while you were working. Dot, get the kettle on and we’ll bathe them for her! Put your blouse on and keep warm a minute, Sylv.’ She tried to sound calm, but she felt shaky, horrified at the violence inflicted on Sylvia’s back. The marks were big and deep and angry.