A Kiss and a Promise (22 page)

‘Well, they haven’t, but I don’t suppose it’ll last for ever,’ Danny said gloomily. He brightened. ‘Still, we’ve gorra nice little earner until someone puts two an’ two together an’ starts to smell a rat. I don’t think any of the kids is likely to twig, but the tatters, they’re a different matter. But they’re none of ’em too bright an’ they don’t get up early, what’s more, so we should keep the stuff in the yard for ourselves, for a while, anyway. Old King won’t tell, even if he finds out, because I’ll lay he’s given us less than he’d have to pay the tatters. An’ don’t you go sayin’ nothin’ to nobody, young Ginny,’ he added impressively. ‘We’ve gorra keep this to ourselves for as long as possible.’

By this time they had reached Duke Street and were hurrying along it, for the lamps were being lit and casting a golden glow on the passers-by. ‘I won’t say a word to anyone,’ Ginny said fervently. ‘But won’t old King smell a rat, Danny? It were real clever the way you made it seem as though we were collectin’ from house to house, but
he
didn’t strike me as stupid. He’ll know when we’re back in school we won’t have the time to do that.’

Danny heaved an exaggerated sigh. ‘Why should he even think about it? He’s far too old to have kids in school and anyway, while the light evenings last, he’ll reckon we’ll collect when our lessons is finished and in a week or two, provided we keep up the supply, he won’t think twice about it. I tell you we’re made, if we just keep our mouths shut and carry on gerrin’ up at dawn on Saturdays.’

At this point, they turned off Great George Street into Rathbone Place and Ginny beamed at her companion. ‘I’ll be able to save up for Christmas because now I’ll have some money to put in our hiding place – real money,’ she said excitedly. ‘I ain’t never had a Christmas present in me whole life an’ I’ve never given one either, not having the dosh. But this year, I can do all sorts. I can buy Granny Bennett some mittens, ’cos her hands get awful cold in winter. An’ I’ll buy you something real good, Danny, ’cos you’re me best friend and you didn’t have to share your idea with me, you could ha’ done it alone and had the fourteen bob all to yourself.’

‘Oh sure,’ Danny said derisively. ‘I can be in two places at once, on the skip and loadin’ the pram! And some fun it would ha’ been, goin’ to New Brighton on me tod. Besides, a feller what can’t help a pal out ain’t worth tuppence.’

By this time they were turning under the arch into Victoria Court. Ginny squeezed Danny’s hand as hard as she could, then stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. She turned towards her own door then looked back. ‘Thanks, Danny. Will you ask your mum about teachin’ me how to mend me skirt? I’ll come round first thing tomorrer mornin’, if that’s all right.’

‘That’ll be grand,’ Danny said bashfully. He had turned a rich shade of crimson but Ginny thought that he had not disliked the kiss. She had seen her cousin, Polly, kiss her brother Ned, and had been amused by the vigorous way Ned had scrubbed off the kiss with a grimy fist, but Danny had done no such thing. He had looked embarrassed all right, but rather pleased as well. Glad that she had not overstepped the mark by this show of affection, Ginny slipped inside her front door and made for the kitchen.

As soon as she opened the door, she knew that something was up. Her grandmother, sitting at the kitchen table and facing her, surged to her feet, her mean little eyes in their rolls of fat glittering malevolently. On one side of her sat Uncle George, looking embarrassed, and on the other side sat Uncle Lewis. They all stared at her as she entered the room, though Granny Bennett was the only one who spoke. ‘So you’ve come back?’ she said, her voice thick with spite. ‘An’ where have you been all day, you nasty little toe-rag? I were up betimes this morning, but there were no sign of you and you ha’n’t been near nor by all day. So where have you been, eh?’

‘I’ve been to New Brighton wi’ a pal; what’s the harm in that?’ Ginny said. She had come right into the kitchen, but now she closed the door behind her and leaned against it, her heart bumping uncomfortably. ‘You – you was fast asleep when I left, Gran. I tried to rouse you to see if you wanted a cuppa but you had your head down on the table and you didn’t so much as …’

‘Don’t you start on me, you lyin’, sneakin’ little thief,’ her grandmother said fiercely. ‘So it were New Brighton, were it? That were the reason you stole the remains of me pension and all the money your dad sends for your keep. Oh aye, I knew it were you the moment I found the empty envelope flung down by the fire.’

Ginny was astonished at her grandmother’s accusation but realised the old woman had had to find some reason for her lack of money. Typically, she had chosen to blame someone else and; of course, the obvious person to blame had been Ginny. But that did not explain the presence of both her uncles. However, one thing must be cleared up before she could ask questions. ‘I’ve stolen nothing, Gran,’ she said, her voice steady. ‘Me and my pal made a bit of money and saved up for a day out. I wouldn’t take your pension nor what me dad sends.’ She turned to George. ‘You know I wouldn’t take money, don’t you, Uncle George? But what are you and Uncle Lewis doing here?’

‘We went to the football, like we always do,’ her Uncle George said briefly. ‘Then we had a few bevvies and bought fish ’n’ chips from Woudenburg’s. We got enough so you and me mam could have some as well and come back here.’ He glanced, half apologetically, at his mother. ‘We found Mam in a rare old takin’, searchin’ the house for summat she’d lost …’

‘I was searchin’ for me money, o’ course,’ Granny Bennett said viciously. ‘I were desperate for – for a nice cuppa tea …’

‘There’s tea in the cupboard, Gran,’ Ginny said, as gently as she could. ‘But if you thought I’d stolen the money, why did you search? It don’t seem to make sense. So since I didn’t take the money, it – it must have got spent.’

‘Aye, our Ginny’s right, Mam,’ George said bluntly. ‘If she didn’t take it, then where’s it gone?’

‘I tell you she
did
take it,’ Granny Bennett said obstinately. She gestured to the room around her. ‘If I spent it, where’s the stuff I bought, eh? I’m tellin’ you, boys, the gal took it to go on the spree an’ now she’s tryin’ to make out it were me.’

Uncle George took a deep breath, looking miserable, but before he could speak, his younger brother broke in. ‘Our mam’s gorra point, George; either Ginny took the money to go to New Brighton wi’ her pal or else our mam spent it.’ He turned to Ginny. ‘You said somethin’ about your gran lyin’ with her head on the table when you got up early this mornin’, so what did
you
think had happened? And was the money there then?’

Ginny stared from one face to the other. She had never complained about her grandmother’s behaviour to either of her uncles, had never said in front of Granny Bennett that the money her father sent should go towards household expenses and not be squandered on drink. The reason she had not done so, of course, was because she had to
live
with Granny Bennett and the old woman knew all too well how to make her granddaughter’s life a misery. If she incurred Granny’s wrath now, her attendance at school would be patchy, to say the least. Granny would think up a dozen reasons why she should not go to classes. She would send Ginny off on messages which would take her right across the city or she would hide some article of clothing so that Ginny was ashamed to go out. On the other hand, though, Ginny did not mean to be branded as a thief, and anyway, she knew very well that Uncle George, because of his frequent visits, must have guessed at once where the money had gone. Even Uncle Lewis must have had a shrewd idea for he gave her a tight little smile.

‘I – I know where it went,’ Ginny said, her voice trembling a little. It seemed whatever she did or said she was going to be in trouble, so she might as well spill the beans. ‘I came in quite late last night because me an’ my pal had been earning a bit o’ cash for today. Gran was out but she came in after I’d gone to bed. She was shoutin’ an’ carryin’ on, crashin’ around the kitchen. Mr Borrage banged on the wall and shouted to her to let folks sleep. You can ask
him
if you don’t believe me; he’ll tell you how it was.’

Granny Bennett got to her feet, her voice rising dangerously, and began to call Ginny a thief and a liar and to say that her boys were not to believe a word their niece said, but Lewis and George told her quite roughly to shut up and sit down. And Granny Bennett subsided, grumbling, on to her chair once more.

‘Go on, Ginny,’ Uncle George said quietly. ‘We might as well get the truth, even if it hurts.’

Ginny cast a doubtful look at her grandmother’s furious face. Oh, lor’, she thought, here comes trouble, but she realised that she had to speak. ‘I didn’t go downstairs when I heard Gran shouting because even the sight of me seems to make her worse,’ she said honestly. ‘But, when I came down this morning, she were asleep, with her head on the kitchen table. The envelope me dad sends the money in were under her cheek, but I could see it had been torn open an’ I guessed …’ Her grandmother gave an infuriated howl but Ginny, having burned her boats, simply raised her voice. ‘I guessed that she’d been down to the Livingstone Arms and spent the money on drink.’

Granny Bennett was positively gibbering with rage; Lewis was looking shocked, but George looked devastated. ‘Wharrever’s the matter with you, Mam?’ he said heavily. ‘The drink will kill you, you know it will. Why, the doctor telled you over ’n’ over you were livin’ on borrowed time. You’ve been real good, an’ the money’s been comin’ in from Michael and bein’ spent properly. Why the sudden change?’

Granny Bennett got to her feet and stumbled towards the door. Ginny, seeing retribution in her grandmother’s piggy little eyes, hastily put the table between them, but it seemed Granny Bennett did not mean to attack her this time. She swung the door open and ambled, unsteadily, into the hall, and then began to ascend the stairs. Over her shoulder, she shouted that since they chose to believe their niece and to call their own mother a liar, she would thank them to get out of her house and leave her to cope as best she might, with no money and no help from anyone.

No one attempted to detain her, and when she had gone George looked rather helplessly from one to the other. ‘Siddown, Ginny,’ he said. ‘We’re goin’ to have to talk this through, the three of us. We can’t have our mam drinkin’ herself to death like this. I’ve offered to have her stay wi’ us but she won’t budge from the court; says she came here when she were wed and means to die here.’

‘Which she will if she don’t give the drink the goby,’ Lewis said. ‘I couldn’t have our mam stayin’ wi’ us – too many kids of me own plus Amy’s sister and her girls.’ He chuckled. ‘Ellen and Mam ’ud be chalk ’n’ cheese and I reckon they’d fight like two cats if they had to share the same kitchen. It’s bad enough for Amy but at least her sister don’t drink.’

George turned to Ginny. ‘Wharrabout you, queen? Any ideas?’

Ginny thought rapidly. She realised that she did not particularly want to live with either of her uncles, but neither did she want to find herself dumped in an orphan asylum. Granny Bennett was horrible to her but at least she gave her a good deal of freedom. And if she tries to stop me going to school, I’ll get round it somehow, Ginny told herself. It would be grand if Uncle George or Uncle Lewis would take Gran and leave me here, but I can’t see that happening somehow.

‘Well?’ George said impatiently, when she did not immediately answer him. ‘Come on, Ginny, speak up.’

‘It’s the money that’s the problem, Uncle George,’ Ginny said carefully. ‘I can’t take me dad’s money away from her – she’s ever so strong, you know – and it wouldn’t be right to take her pension money, even if I could. If only the money came regular … but it hasn’t done that for ages. I think me dad’s at sea again because although the envelopes are always the same – and the handwriting, of course – the stamps are mostly foreign. But if you could get her to hand the envelopes over, Uncle George, then between us we could see it got spent properly.’

‘It’s a good idea, but it won’t please Mam,’ George said, after a moment’s thought. ‘If only we could gerrin touch with Michael, we could tell him to send the money direct to my address, but we don’t know where he lives, do we? The only other solution would be to stop the money at the postman, so to speak. D’you know the name of the feller what delivers the letters round here, queen? If we knew when the money arrived …’

‘Yes, he’s Dicky Harding,’ Ginny said promptly. ‘It’s no good me askin’, Uncle George, ’cos I’m only a kid, but you could tackle him, explain the situation. And – what’ll Gran and meself do for the rest of the week? Until her pension comes due again, I mean.’

‘Oh, I’ll see you right,’ George said, getting to his feet. ‘I’ll bring a basket o’ grub round tomorrow; I reckon you can both last till then.’

He strode down the hall towards the front door, but Lewis lingered. ‘I’d still like to know where you got enough money for a day out in New Brighton,’ he murmured. His bright blue eyes smiled at her and he smoothed his hair back, then glanced after his brother. ‘I’m often short of a bob or two meself, what with four kids and your Aunt Amy to support, to say nothing of Ellen and her two great girls. You’re a sly one, earnin’ all that money an’ norra word to a soul!’

Ginny knew he was only teasing but was about to reply indignantly when Uncle Lewis slipped out of the front door, closing it softly behind him, so she turned back to the kitchen. Since her grandmother had stomped off upstairs, she decided it would be safer to kip down on the shabby little sofa for the night, then she could go to the Levitts’ tomorrow morning without encountering her grandmother again. Fortunately, it was a warm night so Ginny turned off the lamp, lay down on the sofa and was soon sleeping soundly.

It was the first day of term and Ginny came out of the court very early that morning with a bounce in her step and a smile lighting her eyes. She and Annie meant to take great pains with their appearance because they both wanted to make a good impression on their new teacher. Ginny was on her way to Annie’s home. She was wearing a decent, though faded blouse and the skirt which Mrs Levitt had helped her to make respectable. She had, rather cunningly she thought, hidden her new second-hand stockings inside an old paper bag which she had then shoved under her mattress, but now she was wearing the stockings and a pair of plimsolls so old that the soles were attached to the uppers with bits of sticky tape.