A Family Christmas (3 page)

Annie Gabbitas had a look on her face enough to turn the milk sour. ‘So you’re the boss in this house now are yer?’

‘No, but our Lucy’s sixteen and never once in all those years has she had owt new to call her own and it’s about time she had.’

Lucy’s eyes were lit up like stars, but she was frightened by the look on her mother’s face. Annie was liable to throw something if she was that way out.

‘I’ll say when she can ’ave a new frock, nobody else. She’ll bring her wage packet to me next week the way she always does, and that’s the end of it.’

Lucy felt her lip tremble. She mustn’t cry. She should never have listened to their Ben.

‘Right then, you do that, Lucy; you give her yer wage packet and I’ll buy the material for a dress out of my wages.’ Ben stood up and carried his empty plate to the sink in the corner. ‘And from now on she’ll get two thirds of me wages and I’ll ’ave the rest to do what I like with, like other men my age.’

‘Yer can’t do that. You’ll bring home yer wages to me, just like you’ve always done.’

‘But that’s where you’re wrong, Mother. I should ’ave put me foot down years ago but I wanted to be a dutiful son. But do you appreciate anything anyone does for you? Do you hell as like. Well, perhaps you’ll realise what you’re missing when you aren’t getting it any more. Though I doubt it, because all you think about is yerself.’ He grabbed his jacket from the hook behind the door and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. Just then young William came in carrying a bundle of firewood. He looked round at the pale faces. ‘What’s up? It looks like a funeral in ’ere.’

‘Get yer coat off and I’ll put yer dinner out,’ Lucy told her brother. Her mother had sat herself down in the rocking chair, her face like a thunder cloud; she didn’t say a word, knowing she had gone too far this time.

Always one to keep his word, Ben came home from work on Saturday at dinner time, got washed and changed out of his pit clothes, polished his best boots with spit and flattened his hair down with water. ‘Well, Lucy, are yer ready?’

Lucy had been ready all morning, hopping from one foot to the other until Kitty had told her to concentrate on her work or Mr Black would notice. Even though Lucy no longer helped her, Annie had craftily told Mrs Rawlings that Lucy would go round and see her after dinner, but Lucy had arranged for Will to go in her place. William didn’t mind; he enjoyed helping her and Mrs Rawlings always gave
him
a slice of bread and jam. Mrs Rawlings’s jam was delicious, even though he had once worried for weeks after swallowing a plum stone, when Albert Marshall had told him it might sprout inside him and grow into a tree.

Lucy had only ever been to Sheffield once, when her dad had taken them all to the station to wave his sister Kate off on the first stage of her journey to America. It had been a lovely outing, even though her dad had had tears in his eyes at the thought of never seeing his sister again. Then her mam had gone and spoiled it all by saying Aunt Kate was no better than she should be – whatever that might mean – because she had the courage to go off and try to make something of herself. Lucy wished she could go off to America instead of living with her miserable mother.

Lucy shook herself from her reverie. She had changed her mind half a dozen times at least about what colour her dress would be. First she thought she would like a brown dress which would be serviceable, then she thought if it was to be the only dress she would have in the next few years she would like a pretty one in pink or cream.

As it turned out her mind was made up for her as they approached the market stall. The first roll of material she saw was blue muslin, sprigged with tiny white flowers. None of the others could make her change her mind, especially when Ben told her it was the exact colour of her eyes. The man told
her
how many yards she would need and Ben said, ‘Right, we’ll take it.’ Then he said, ‘Now, help me choose some for our Jane.’

Lucy danced with excitement; she had worried about what Jane would think about her new dress. She chose a pale-green crepe de chine. ‘That’ll suit our Jane’s hair,’ Lucy said. Jane was as dark as Lucy was fair. Ben agreed the material was lovely. After he had paid the man he told Lucy he was going to splash out on dinner in a small restaurant in High Street. Apparently he had been there before with one of his many girlfriends. All the girls were after Ben Gabbitas but up to now he had not yet settled for one. Lucy hardly dared speak as they climbed the stairs to the cafe; she had never eaten out before. She sat primly on the edge of her chair until Ben told her to relax and enjoy herself. Lucy read the menu and chose fishcakes and fried potatoes with peas. The meal was the most delicious Lucy had ever eaten. Ben told her to pour the tea and her hand shook as she lifted the silver teapot. She thought she would die if she spilt it on the white damask cover. ‘Oh Ben, are yer sure you can afford this and the material as well?’

Ben laughed. ‘Oh aye, me mother did me a favour when she refused to buy you a dress. Now I’m keeping a third of me wages I’ll be much better off and besides that, anything I make on piecework I’m going to keep from now on.’

‘And knowing how hard you work you’ll make quite a bit.’

‘Aye, and do yer know, Lucy? I don’t feel guilty at all. Me mother’s a greedy old bitch; she’s all take. Yer shouldn’t feel sorry for her. She’s doing well out of us all and on top of all we tip up she’s a pension of fifteen shillings for her and our Will. She should be rolling in it and could keep a good table, but all she does is stash it away. God knows what for.’

‘I expect it makes her feel secure.’ Lucy always tried to see the good in anyone, even her miserable mother. ‘Besides, she works hard and keeps the house clean.’

‘Oh aye, with the help of you lasses. And you’re like a little mother to our Will. Don’t think I ’aven’t noticed how she has you all running around after her. Have yer finished? If you have we’ll have a walk on the Moor and a look in Cole Brothers.’

Lucy could have sauntered all day looking in the shop windows and planning what she would buy if she had the money. They walked back through the gardens and took a short cut down Chapel Walk towards Haymarket. She decided to go to Woolworths and spend the two shillings Ben had given her. She bought pearl buttons, a paper pattern and enough lace to trim the two dresses, then she remembered she would need sewing thread. Everything cost sixpence so her precious two shillings were gone,
but
it would be worth it when she and Jane walked out on Sunday evenings in their new dresses.

The house where Lucy lived was identical to all the others in the four rows – known to everyone in Millington as Top Row, Next Row, Second Row and Bottom Row. Although they had proper names like Saunders Street, no one ever used them except on correspondence delivered by the Royal Mail. Each house had two downstairs rooms, two bedrooms, an attic and a cellar where the coal was kept. The top of the cellar was fitted with shelves where the food was stored, not that there was ever much on the shelves of the Gabbitas residence. Outside the houses on Top Row was a large yard overlooked by a pretty flower-strewn bank leading to the allotments. In the yard were two blocks of water closets, one to every two houses. The attic served as a bedroom for Ben and Will, with Nellie, Jane and Lucy in one room and Annie in the other. Mary’s marriage had given the girls a little more space.

All the families were friendly and always ready to lend a hand or a bite to eat in times of need. Even Annie could not be faulted by the neighbours. They saw her as a good mother, spotlessly clean and a woman who had carried on regardless after the loss of her husband. No one outside the family would have believed how cold and unfeeling she could be.

The only one who had ever got herself talked about on Top Row was Evelyn Smithson. Evelyn was rumoured to entertain men in the afternoons when the curtains were drawn; Lewis Marshall often commented that Evelyn was dropping her bloomers again. Mrs Slater said none of it was true and the only reason the curtains were ever drawn in the daytime was when Evelyn’s baby boy was napping on the couch and the sun was in his eyes. Mrs Slater said the only man ever to have visited the house had been little Bernard’s father, and she should know, living next door. Still the rumours persisted and the Gabbitas girls considered this unfair as they thought Evelyn was lovely, always good for a laugh and a cup of tea. Besides, she was a wonderful mother to her little boy, despite finding it hard to make ends meet.

Another character on Top Row was Mrs Murphy, who seemed to have a new baby every year. Because Mrs Murphy was so fat nobody ever knew she was carrying until she actually gave birth. She would simply go to bed, bear the child and get up again, resuming her place in the chair in front of the fire where she would sit, day in and day out, leaving the kids to get on with life. Amazingly, they all seemed to thrive amongst the clutter and grime, unlike the babies Mrs Cadman had borne. Although Mrs Cadman’s house was well furnished and clean and although she attended the clinic regularly, two of her babies had died, one poor little mite at birth
and
another of a fever. Now her third child had been taken to a hospital on the other side of Sheffield suffering from typhoid. The little boy had been seriously ill on admittance but was said to be recovering slowly. Lucy hoped the baby would pull through as Mrs Cadman would make a perfect mother. Lucy tried to compare her to her own, though it was difficult to imagine Annie travelling miles every day if any of them were ever ill and taken to hospital.

All in all Top Row was a decent place in which to live, just a short walk from the main road where all the shops and the town hall were situated, then there was the market on Fridays, the church school at the bottom of the hill opposite the parish church and the Miners’ Club. Lower down were the steelworks, trailing the length of the valley with the river Don flowing alongside them. The opposite hill was sparsely populated and usually blanketed by smoke from the works and coke ovens. On the far side of the hill was the colliery where most families on Top Row had at least one member of the family working. The pit was hidden from view in the midst of Sheepdip Wood, a popular walk on Sundays for the people of Millington, especially courting couples. Lucy was glad they lived on this side of the valley, which was much more populated but greener and seemed untouched by the smoke or grime. Close to the rows were the Memorial Gardens and the clock tower.

Then there was the Donkey Wood leading to the football field and the new council school. Council houses were already springing up in one area and Lucy was sad that the strawberry fields would be lost for ever to make way for the new developments. At least the Donkey Wood would remain intact; Mr Blackmore said it had been bequeathed by the owners of the works to the good people of Millington to be used for their enjoyment and pleasure in years to come. The Donkey Wood was used for walks, blackberrying and for picnics. It was a good place to play, with a stream to paddle in and trees to climb. Of course Lucy had been too old for playing for a few years now, but it would be good to walk in the Donkey Wood in her new dress. She wondered if their Nellie would lend her her new button-up boots just for once, so she could show off and look beautiful for a change.

Nellie Gabbitas had more on her mind than buttonup boots. She wondered how to tell her mother the news without her starting to rant and rave. She would wait until their Ben and Lucy came back from Sheffield; Ben would be on her side and would protect her. How awful to need protecting from the lashing tongue of one’s own mother. Nellie worked at a large, rambling old house known as Cragstone Manor, situated on the edge of Cragstone. The manor had recently been renovated and opened to accommodate paying guests, mostly gentlemen
visiting
the steelworks or colliery for conferences or merely an excuse to party and get drunk. Nellie had worked in service from leaving school, starting as chamber maid and progressing to assistant cook. Now the cook was retiring and Nellie had been offered the post with an increase in wages. The position was a living-in one and Nellie had not had to think twice before accepting. The trek to Cragstone – a distance of several miles – was arduous on dark mornings and nights, particularly in winter on the country lanes. Besides, she would have her own room and as much food as she could eat. The only thing worrying her was her mother’s reaction. Of course she would miss her sisters and brothers, but it would be a relief to get away from her mother. In fact, she couldn’t wait to get away and begin her new job the day after tomorrow. Oh, she wished their Ben would come home; she thought they would have been back by now.

‘What’s up with yer? You’re like somebody with St Vitus’ dance,’ Annie admonished her daughter.

‘Nothing, nothing’s wrong with me. I just thought they’d have been back by now. I hope nothing’s happened to them.’

Annie grimaced. ‘What can possibly have happened to them?’

Nellie didn’t need to answer as the door opened and in skipped Lucy, who couldn’t wait to show off the new material. ‘Oh Nellie, you’ll never believe how beautiful it is. Where’s our Jane?’ Lucy thought
she
ought to show Jane first, seeing as it was a surprise for her.

‘Upstairs, changing pillow cases ready for washing on Monday,’ Annie said, ‘unlike some who’s time to go gallivanting.’

Lucy went clattering up the stairs, bearing the parcels of cloth. Jane was in Annie’s room, mending a hole in the striped pillow to stop the flocks falling out. ‘Look at this, Jane.’ Lucy opened the parcel, exposing the beautiful lime-green material.

‘Oh, Lucy, it’s gorgeous.’ Jane tried to hide the envy she couldn’t help feeling. ‘You’ll look lovely in that.’

‘No, you will. It’s yours.’

‘Mine?’

‘Yes, yours. This is mine.’ She showed Jane the blue.

‘Mine! I can’t believe it.’

‘And I bought a pattern and some lace and buttons.’

‘Oh, Lucy. I love the material; I’m not sure about the style, but it’ll look lovely on you.’ The picture on the pattern showed a tight-fitting bodice and a full skirt. ‘I’d prefer a shorter, sexier style. After all I’m older than you.’ Lucy felt a little bit disappointed that Jane didn’t like the style she had chosen, but she didn’t let her sister know. ‘I’m sure our mam’ll be able to make one to suit you,’ she said. ‘Or shall we ask our Mary?’