Northern Girl (21 page)

‘Mam!’ Tom called as he entered the house just ahead of Dominic, ‘Mam! Are you there?’

‘Eee, lad, ah wuz on the lav, and ah wasn’t goin ter shout from there now, was ah?’ Hannah rushed in through the back door, and came to a sudden halt. ‘Oh …!’ She clapped her hand over her mouth at the sight of the nicely dressed fair-haired lad standing in the middle of her front room.

‘Mam, this is Dominic. And Dominic …’ Tom smiled, extending his arm towards his obviously embarrassed mother ‘… meet me mam.’

Hannah quickly collected herself and walked towards Dominic. ‘Come ’ere, lad,’ she said, holding her arms out towards him.

Dominic, feeling slightly bewildered by this strange greeting, nervously put his case down while glancing uncertainly towards Tom. Tom nodded and
Dominic walked into Hannah’s outstretched arms.

‘Ay, this is a right to-do. What are we goin’ ter do, lad?’ she questioned, as she hugged him. ‘Yer mam and dad must be beside themselves an’ all,’ she added – more as a comment than a question – before releasing him.

Dominic answered the bit that he’d understood. ‘Yes, Madame Dawson, not only Maman
et
Papa, but the whole family is worried. And no one has an answer.’ He bent to pick up his case – he’d no idea why.

Hannah, noticing his agitation, implored, ‘You put that down, lad.’ She looked at Tom and asked, ‘Will yer take it upstairs for ’im, Tom, please?’

Tom did as he was bid, while Hannah rushed to build the fire up ready for boiling the kettle. She said to Dominic, ‘You’ll have a cup of tea, won’t yer, lad?’

He understood ‘cup of tea’ very well from Tom’s constant desire for one when he’d been in France, and he could tell that she wouldn’t be expecting no for an answer, so he said, ‘Yes, madame, thank you.’

‘Good, well, you sit yerself down here,’ she said, ushering him to a chair beside the now roaring fire. Then, with a smile, she added, ‘And as nice as it sounds, there’s no need ter call me madam, me name’s Hannah.’

‘Oh, sorry, Madame Hannah,’ Dominic replied, looking concerned, ‘but in France it is a sign of respect to address our elders as madame or monsieur.’

Hannah looked up, aware of Tom coming down the stairs, and said, ‘Well, it’s very polite, I’m sure! It’s a
shame we don’t have the same custom here. A few good manners wouldn’t go amiss sometimes—’

‘Aw, come on, Mam!’ Tom interrupted, ‘No one’s got more respect for their mam and da than me and our Rene!’

‘Ah know, pet. Ah was only tryin’ ter make light of the difficult situation we’re in here,’ she answered, with concern.

There was no response to that, either from Tom or Dominic.

But once supplied with a cup of tea and a very strange gateau, which Madame Hannah called an ‘iced bun’, Dominic did begin to relax a little. He felt comfortable enough to describe his family to Tom’s mother, and the thought of meeting Monsieur Dawson, and Tom’s sister, Rene, began to seem slightly less daunting.

While he talked he studied Tom in his home surroundings: he fitted in there so well that it was hard to imagine him living in France. That thought reminded Dominic that he had promised to send a telegram to his parents when he got to Glamis Terrace, but it was too soon to be able to tell them anything other than that he’d arrived. And he didn’t think there’d be any significant discussion until the whole family were assembled, anyway.

What a mess! he thought. Here were two families from totally different worlds, who would never have known of each other’s existence if it hadn’t been for the war. But they were going to be forced together, and it seemed that Tom’s kindly mother thought that
everything could be solved over a cup of tea! Or maybe that was just her way of coping.

He realized that he was going to have to develop a taste for tea, as the famous English drink seemed to be served at
any
time of the day. Aware that his mind was wandering, he made himself listen more closely to what Hannah was saying. She was talking about how her friends and neighbours had all clubbed together to provide food when they’d known Tom was coming home.

‘Well, Mam, I should think so, too, after all the running around you do for that lot,’ Tom butted in. ‘I expect it’s their way of repaying you.’ Then, looking at Dominic, he added, ‘You should have seen the spread she put on for us on the day I arrived home! We’re still wading through it now!’

‘Stop yer exaggeratin’, our Tom.’ Hannah glanced kindly at Dominic, adding, ‘Anyway, if ah’d known which day you were comin’, ah would have put on a spread for you, an’ all!’

‘A spread?’ Dominic assumed a puzzled expression. It had hardly been off his face since he’d arrived.

Tom smiled. ‘It means loads of grub, mate!’

Not much wiser for the explanation, Dominic couldn’t help wondering how on earth Madeleine would manage here, with her limited knowledge of the language. He had been pleasantly surprised at the way her English had improved after meeting Tom, but
this
! This bore little relation to what they’d been taught in school. His mind was churning.
Mon Dieu
, Madeleine! he thought. I pity you. He stared through the front
window into the neat little front gardens, noticing how different this view was from the one at the back, which simply looked out on to an identical row of houses.

While the kettle had come to the boil, Tom had taken him out into the small concrete backyard and shown him the outside toilet and the coal house. This last had a small, waist-high door, called a hatch, which opened on to the back street. Tom had explained how the coal was delivered by a man with a horse and cart. He’d tip the coal outside in the street, where it formed a gleaming black heap. Then each householder would open up the hatch door and shovel the coal through into the shed. On delivery days, by the time everything was safely shovelled inside, not only was the coalman covered from head to toe in coal dust, but so were the inhabitants of each street.

Tom had explained that the family took it in turns to fill up a bucket with coal from the shed, as and when it was needed. ‘
And
it’s all free, cause me da’s a miner,’ he’d said. Dominic had sensed bitterness in his voice at that last remark. He assumed it was because Tom felt free coal was the least the mine could do for his father. But, not really understanding the coal mines himself and how they worked, Dominic had said nothing. If he was honest, all he could think about at the moment was this very different lifestyle. He simply couldn’t picture his sister living here.

He was brought back to earth by Hannah suddenly getting up and putting her coat on. ‘Ah won’t be long, ah’ve ter go collect our Jeannie from school,’ she said.

‘That’s our Rene’s girl,’ Tom explained to Dominic.

‘Yes, I remember you talking about her with Madeleine,’ Dominic answered.

Tom looked from one to the other, and said to Hannah, ‘I think we’d better pretend that Dominic is a friend from France who is over here on business when our Jeannie gets in, eh?’ Hannah nodded her head in agreement before closing the back door behind her.

Noticing the loud ticking of the grandfather clock, Dominic walked over to look at it. Fascinated, he opened the small door on the front, which housed the pendulum and the chain, and after watching the pendulum for some time, as it swung hypnotically with each tick, he suddenly turned to Tom and asked, ‘Do you mind if I wash, and maybe shave, Tom, before the rest of the family arrive?’

‘Of course not, mate. Sorry, I didn’t think of offering,’ answered Tom, momentarily distracted from his own painful thoughts. ‘I’ll put the pan on to heat the water up. It won’t take long with a fire like that.’ He gave the blaze another poke. He filled the pan before showing Dominic into the small scullery behind the kitchen. ‘There’s a bit of a mirror over the sink, for your shave,’ he said. ‘And, look!’ There’s even a drop of warm water left in the kettle.’ He poured the tepid water into the sink. ‘There, lad, how about that?’ he exclaimed, well satisfied.

Dominic did his best to hide his horror at the primitive arrangements, and thanked Tom. How strange this family were, not to clean themselves at washstands in the privacy of their own bedrooms!
Madeleine had always been so fastidious and discreet, and this – this cold scullery with no locks on the doors – was where she would have to wash if she lived here. And he knew that she
would
have to live in this house if she came over, because it would probably be a long time before Tom could afford a place of his own.

‘Here you are, lad!’ Tom said brightly, bringing in the pan of heated water, and pouring it into the sink. ‘Mind you run plenty of cold water into it, cause it’s boiling hot!’ he warned. He went out to the kitchen with the empty pan, then, remembering Jeannie would be home soon, popped his head round the scullery door to warn Dominic, ‘And you’d best hurry up, because I can guarantee that our Jeannie will come rushing through there to the toilet as soon as she gets in.’

At this Dominic hurriedly finished washing, and was just drying his underarms when he heard the front door open, followed by an excited young voice calling out, ‘Where’s the Frenchman, Tom?’

‘Well, hello, Tom! And how are you this afternoon?’ Tom joked.

‘Oh, never mind all that! Where is he?’

Tom laughed. ‘Be patient, young missy. You’ll see him soon enough.’ Jeannie gave a little squeal of pleasure, and Dominic guessed Tom had swung her playfully off her feet.

He smiled to himself in the scullery as he heard her ask, ‘Can he talk French, then?’

‘Of course he can talk French!’ Tom said. ‘
And
he can talk English, and all. How about that?’

‘Well, ah can talk English, there’s nowt special about that!’ Jeannie replied, moving towards the scullery.

When the door suddenly opened she visibly jumped, and Dominic, smiling widely, headed straight for her. ‘Bonjour, mademoiselle!’ he said, crouching in front of her. ‘
Je suis Dominic … et vous?
’

‘Eee, is that French talk?’ she asked with unusual shyness.

‘Yes, and it means, “Hello, young miss, I am Dominic, and you?”’

‘Hello, Dominic. I am Jeannie, and your English sounds daft.’

‘
Jeannie!
’ Hannah scolded. ‘That’s very rude! Apologize!’

‘I didn’t mean it awful … I meant it nice!’ Jeannie protested as she ran out into the backyard, embarrassed.

Hannah shrugged her shoulders as she apologized to Dominic on Jeannie’s behalf. ‘Sorry, lad, but she’s never come across a Frenchman before. Anyway, we’re the last ones to criticize. What must we sound like to you? You learned your English all proper at school, then you’re confronted with the likes of us!’

Dominic, not wanting to say the wrong thing, answered, ‘I am not offended by Jeannie. She is just a child, and I’m sure she didn’t mean it badly. I will go bring her in … no?’ He raised his eyebrows in question.

‘Aye, you go talk some sense into her, mate,’ Tom agreed.

As Dominic walked through the scullery to the backyard, he called out, ‘Hey, Jeannie! Come climb on my back, and I will carry you back in the house.’

He couldn’t see her, but he crouched down all the same. Suddenly, she appeared from behind the toilet door, and, giggling, jumped on his back. She brandished an imaginary whip, and was just calling out ‘Gee up!’ when the back gate swung open, and there stood Jack Dawson, as black as soot, a bucket of vegetables in his hand.

With Jeannie still clinging to his back, Dominic froze in shock.

‘Ay, what’s goin’ on here, lass?’ Jack asked, looking at Jeannie on this stranger’s back.

‘Grandda, this is Dominic, and he talks French,’ Jeannie said, hardly able to contain herself. She went on, without pausing for breath, ‘Gran told uz that ’ee’s here on business, but ’ee’s stayin’ with us. Wait till ah tell them all at school.’ She spoke as if Dominic staying was the most exciting thing that could have happened.

Dominic lowered Jeannie to the ground, and straightened up, before holding out his hand towards this stranger, whose bright blue eyes shone out from the blackness of his face.

‘I am Dominic Pelletier. You must be Monsieur Dawson, no?’

‘Monsieur Dawson, eh? Ah’ve been called a few things in me time, but monsieur! That’s a new one on me, lad!’ He smiled, shaking Dominic’s hand.

The three of them walked into the house together,
Jeannie completely forgetting her previous upset. Jack, seeing the empty space in front of the sitting room fire, asked Hannah, with a discreet wink at Jeannie, ‘Where’s me bath, then, lass?’

‘Eee, Jack, there’s been that much goin’ on ah forgot all about it. Ah’ve never done that before,
ever
!’ Hannah said to no one in particular as she rushed around.

‘Don’t fret, lass. Ah wuz only pullin’ yer leg. Ah can see that ye’ve got yer hands full,’ Jack said kindly. ‘Ah’ll see to it meself fer once. Then ah’ll have a bit crack with young Dominic here,’ he said, giving Dominic a pat on the back.

Hannah gratefully accepted the offer. ‘That would be grand, then ah can see ter gettin’ the vegetables washed and peeled, ready fer yer tea. And judgin’ by the amount of muck on them tatties, yer must have brought the whole allotment home with yer.’

‘Ay, yer never happy unless yer complainin’, lass. Yer want ter think yerself lucky that we’ve any tatties at all, the way things are with the rationin’, mind!’

‘Oh, ah know all that. It’s just that it’s the devil of a job cleanin’ them in that small sink.’

A couple of seconds later she popped her head around the door to check the clock.

‘Our Rene’ll be home soon, so be sharp with yer bath, won’t yer!’ she said, before retreating to the kitchen. She ignored Jack’s mumblings as he went out to the backyard to unhook the bath tin from the wall.

Tom went to the front door and beckoned Dominic to follow him. ‘It’s gonner be bedlam in here for a while. D’yer fancy a pint?’

‘A pint?’ questioned Dominic.

‘Beer!’ Tom explained.

‘Oh, yes,’ Dominic answered with relish, ‘a
bière
I would like.’

‘Come on, then!’ Tom grabbed his and Dominic’s jackets from the back of the chair. ‘We’ll go up to the working men’s club.’