Down Daisy Street (16 page)
‘Tell you what, Kath,’ Billy said, as his sister began to pull him towards the door, ‘we could take the pushchair all folded up like until we reach the shops and then we could pile the full bags into it. I’ve only got lickle arms,’ he added piteously. ‘And when I carries heavy bags, they aches like anythin’. Jerry Waters says his mam makes him carry bags so heavy that by the time he’s growed his knuckles will be brushing the floor. I don’t want arms like a gorilla, does I, Kath?’
Kathy giggled at the thought of Billy with knuckles that scraped the pavement but decided that it was time Billy learned a lesson. ‘No, Billy, if you don’t want a ride in the pushchair, then we aren’t taking it,’ she said firmly. And then, seeing his wobbling lip and the tears filling his eyes, she added hastily: ‘It’s all right, silly. I’ll carry the two big canvas bags and you can carry something light. Could you manage a bag of sticky buns and a few apples, do you think?’
Relieved that he was not to be used like a packhorse, Billy agreed sunnily that sticky buns and apples would cause him no problems and the two of them set out, Billy chattering like a sparrow and dancing along beside her. He even consented to hold her hand, though this was something which he considered babyish and would not have done had they been with the O’Briens. Once the canvas bags began to fill up it was impossible to hold hands, but since Billy stuck close to her side it did not seem to matter. Very soon they reached the baker’s shop and stood, Billy with his nose pressed to the glass, and examined the delicious contents of the window. Having weighed up the respective delights of sticky buns, iced buns or those knobbly but delicious objects known as rock cakes, they decided on the sticky buns because they would get more for their money, and went into the shop. Mrs Beasler came forward to serve them and, with her usual generosity, gave both children a small square of sponge cake. They left the shop eating busily and almost bumped into Ruby, who was hurrying along the pavement, her round face flushed and her plait of fair hair bouncing on her shoulder. As soon as she saw Kathy and Billy, the anxiety left her face and she beamed at them, slowing to a walk. ‘I thought I were going to be late,’ she said breathlessly. ‘Me mam was so slow writing out her list, I thought I’d never get away. Have you just been into Beasler’s? Only I’ve got to go in there for six iced buns, a large tin and three almond tarts.’
‘We’ve been there already; we’re on our way to the Charlotte Street market now,’ Kathy said, consulting her list. ‘But we can spare five minutes while you get your stuff. We can have a look in Kettle’s while we’re waiting, because I promised Billy some sweets if he was good.’
‘An’ I have been good, haven’t I, Kath?’ Billy said anxiously as the two of them walked towards the sweetshop. ‘Can I have an ounce of aniseed balls or a sherbet dip? Can I have both? If I can, I’ll be good on the way home as well as on the way to the shops.’
Kathy laughed but agreed and presently the three of them met up again, Billy enthusiastically dipping away at his sherbet with the small hollow liquorice pipe provided. Ruby and Kathy always had a lot to talk about but today, because it was holiday time, their thoughts were turning away from school subjects, for a change.
‘When are we going to start job hunting?’ Ruby asked eagerly as they set out along the pavement. ‘My mam says I can keep all the money I earn.’
Kathy sighed. She had not seen Ruby since her mother had gone back to work at the tearooms and dreaded telling her friend that a good many of her plans would have to be shelved. But it would not have been fair to keep Ruby in the dark a moment longer than necessary, so she took a deep breath and began on her story. ‘I’m afraid none of what we’d planned is going to happen, because as soon as the school holidays started Mam nipped into Dorothy’s Tearooms . . .’
When the story was told, Ruby gave a squeak of dismay. ‘Oh, Kathy, it would have been such fun to work together,’ she lamented. ‘Don’t say one of the lodgers has left! I thought you said your mam was managing really well, what with their money and the extra she made by cooking “specials” for Dorothy’s. I know she’ll go back to work when Billy starts at proper school, but you said that wouldn’t be till next Easter. I really
did
think that we would have this summer holiday together.’
did
think that we would have this summer holiday together.’
‘So did I,’ Kathy admitted mournfully. ‘The trouble is, Ruby, that Mam can earn so much more than I can. Even if I got a good job, they’d pay me as little as possible because fifteen isn’t very old and they know there’s hundreds of kids longing for a job of some sort. Mam says she’ll pay me pocket money for looking after Billy, but it won’t be the sort of money you can save out of, if you know what I mean.’
Ruby, who had been getting her Saturday penny as a matter of course ever since she started school nodded glumly. ‘So you’ve not lost either of the lodgers?’ she enquired after a moment. ‘Oh dear, now I shall have to job hunt all by meself. Tell you what, though, I’ll try for a part-time job, either mornings or afternoons, or perhaps just two or three days a week. Then you and me can share looking after Billy when I’m not working. What do you say to that?’
‘Oh, Ruby, you are kind,’ Kathy said, agreeing that this would be a good deal better than having to cope alone all week. The talk then turned back to the lodgers, for Ruby had met both men and was deeply interested in the saga which Kathy presently proceeded to unfold, though she kept her voice low for fear of Billy’s overhearing and repeating her words. ‘Well, as I told you weeks back, Mr Bracknell seems to be rather more interested in me mam than I like. He’s asked her to the cinema several times – she actually went once – and though he’s out most evenings, I’m pretty sure he brings bits and bobs in for her. There’s a tiny bottle of perfume – Californian Poppy it’s called – on her dressing table, and I know Mam wouldn’t waste our money on anything so frivolous. He’s become extremely helpful, too. He clears the plates away when we’ve finished our food, and sometimes he dries up for Mam while she washes the crocks. I know I’ve told you all this before, but I’ve not told you what I discovered last week; I heard Mr Bracknell asking Mam if she’d like to go out for the day on Sunday. He said they might go to New Brighton and have their dinner out. Honestly, Ruby, can you
believe
it? I mean, he’s
old
and Mam’s
old
!’
believe
it? I mean, he’s
old
and Mam’s
old
!’
‘She’s not that old,’ Ruby objected. ‘Gosh, fancy your mam having a real gentleman friend, eh? I know she went to the pictures with Mr Bracknell once, because you told me so, but she’s not been again, has she?’
‘Not so far as I know,’ Kathy said guardedly. ‘But then I’m not there, am I, half the time. But no, I think she’d have to tell me if she went out at night, so that there was someone in to look after Billy if he woke. But, you know, after Billy and I have gone to bed, both the lodgers and me Mam sit together in the kitchen and if Mr Philpott goes up early, which I’m sure he often does because he’s such a wet week, then that leaves me mam alone with the Mexican bandit, and I don’t approve at all. I don’t want me mam marrying again or any of that nonsense.’
‘Why ever not?’ Ruby said. She sounded amused and Kathy shot her a rather resentful glance. It was all very well for Ruby to talk, secure in the possession of two parents who loved one another. But she had no wish to argue with her friend, so changed the subject, nodding in the direction of Billy.
‘Do you have a lot of messages, Ruby? And don’t forget, little pitchers . . .’
‘Little pitchers have long ears, little pitchers have long ears,’ Billy warbled happily. ‘I’s a little pitcher, ain’t I, Kath?’
‘Yes you are,’ Kathy said severely, but with a quivering lip. ‘When we’ve done our messages. I’d like to nip into Paddy’s market, if you don’t mind, Ruby. Jane said to keep an eye on the clothing stalls because sooner or later someone’s bound to have a green cardigan for sale – one of the school ones, perhaps. Mam offered to knit me one and I know some girls do wear home-knitted cardigans, but I don’t think she’ll be able to do it before term starts now that she’s working. And you never know – all the outgrown tunics from the older girls must go somewhere.’
‘I expect they cut them up for dusters,’ Ruby said prosaically. ‘I like Paddy’s market, it’s full of interesting stuff, but why don’t you get Jane to pop in on her way to and from work to keep a look out for you?’
‘The thing is, Jane doesn’t have the time. Remember, she’s one of a big family and her mam and dad both work – most of the time, anyway. I’m sure she’d do her best to check up if I asked her, but it wouldn’t be fair.’
Ruby agreed that this was so, and presently the three of them turned into Paddy’s market. They began to make their way between the fascinating stalls and Kathy was just eyeing a cardigan when she heard, from behind her, a voice she knew.
‘Isn’t it a weird sort of place, though? My mama would have a fit if she knew I’d come slumming down here, but I thought it would be a real laugh and I know you like a laugh, Claude.’
Kathy would have swung round to take a better look at the speaker but Ruby grabbed her by the arm. ‘It’s that bleedin’ Marcia, She’s gone and got herself a feller,’ she hissed. ‘Don’t look round or she’ll see us and you know what she’s like. She’ll say something cutting and you’ll be upset for the rest of the day. Keep your head down and go on looking at that perishin’ cardigan until they’ve passed by.’
Kathy obeyed, aware of how easily she could be upset by Marcia, and all might have been well but for Billy. He had been moving along the front of the stall, poking about amongst the various garments, and suddenly he tugged one out from underneath, announcing in a clear and penetrating voice: ‘Look at this, our Kath. It’s one of them posh blazer things what you said you needed. I bet it’ll fit you a treat. Ain’t I a clever lad then, eh?’
For a moment, Kathy stood where she was, literally frozen with horror. Of all the people in the world, Marcia was the very last person she wanted to see her buying second-hand school uniform. But it was too late; the much-hated voice said, with a cat’s purr in the words: ‘Well, well, well, if it isn’t little Kathy Kelling! I should have known you’d be in here, trying to get a bargain. Now that
does
look a nice blazer; if you were to patch the elbows, it would be a good deal better than the one you’ve been wearing this past year.’
does
look a nice blazer; if you were to patch the elbows, it would be a good deal better than the one you’ve been wearing this past year.’
Kathy swung round to face her tormentor and was about to reply hotly when Marcia’s companion broke in. ‘I take it you’re about to introduce me to one of your schoolmates, Marcia,’ he said affably. ‘Is she in your class?’ He held out a hand towards Kathy, giving her a bright smile as he did so. ‘I’m Claude Peveril, Marcia’s cousin, and you’re Kathy Kelling, I presume, from what Marcia said, in her jokey way. Is this your little brother? And now you must introduce me to your friend.’
Blushing fierily, but grateful for his intervention, Kathy shook his hand, admitted that Billy was her brother and introduced him to Ruby. She was delighted to see Marcia biting her lip and beginning to scowl and thought that Claude, despite being Marcia’s cousin, was a nice person. She knew, of course, that Marcia’s remark had not been meant in a jokey way but it was easier to pretend that it had not been intentionally wounding. Accordingly, she admitted that she was interested in purchasing the blazer, since new ones were so expensive and would have returned to her study of the stall had not Marcia spoken again. ‘Kathy is a scholarship girl, Claude,’ she said pointedly. ‘They’re always scrimping and saving to keep themselves decent so I’m not surprised to find her here, raking over the rags on this stall, especially as I believe she’s got a loony brother.’
The shock was so great that Kathy acted before she had thought. She dropped the canvas bags she was carrying and grabbed Marcia by the front of her summer jacket, pulling her down so that their faces were on a level. ‘You spiteful bitch!’ she shouted. ‘Take that back or I’ll wipe the grin off your nasty face!’
‘I’m sure she was only . . .’ Claude was beginning, when Marcia said, loudly and defiantly, ‘She’s just a gutter brat; she doesn’t know any better. Let’s get out of here, Claude, before I forget I’m a lady.’
It was too much. Kathy punched Marcia as hard as she could, hitting her squarely on the nose with a satisfying thump. Marcia screamed piercingly and tottered back, both hands to her face, and Claude said: ‘I say, old girl, you rather asked for that.’ He turned to Kathy. ‘Mind you, you should never descend to violence, young lady, no matter what the provocation. Now come along, both of you shake hands and apologise.’ He seized Kathy by the wrist and pulled Marcia’s hands down from her face, revealing tear-drenched eyes and scarlet cheeks, but nothing more. The blow on the nose had not been hard enough, Kathy thought vengefully. ‘Now come along, young ladies, I said to shake hands and I meant it. We can’t have high school girls indulging in a brawl in a public place.’ He smiled across the combatants’ heads at Ruby. ‘Don’t you agree, Ruby?’
Ruby had bent to pick up Billy and was comforting him, for the violence of Kathy’s reaction had clearly frightened him badly. ‘You’re right, mister,’ she said, grinning at Kathy. ‘Best shake hands and make up, the two of you.’
Kathy reluctantly held out her hand and was annoyed that she had done so when Marcia touched her fleetingly, as though Kathy’s hand would contaminate her. ‘I’m only doing it for you, Claude,’ she said in a muffled voice. ‘And remember who it was who used violence, because I would never hit anyone, no matter what the provocation.’
‘Marcia, if you were ever thrown into a snake pit, you’d argue with the snakes,’ Claude said humorously. ‘Now, do you want to see the rest of the stalls or don’t you? It’s a grand place. I’d like to take a look around, but if you’d rather leave . . .’
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