Water Gypsies (19 page)

‘What’s he done to himself?’ she sobbed. It unnerved her completely to see Joel, who was always so rock-like, in this broken state. ‘Supposing he’s done summat really bad to himself and he can’t work again?’

‘He’ll be all right.’ Bobby tried awkwardly to comfort her, though he was very shaken by what had happened as well. ‘He’s a tough ’un, he is. You’ll see.’

Bobby was a godsend to Maryann in those days. She was surprised because she still thought of him as a young lad, but he had a steady kindness which helped to keep her calm. When she went back into the Radcliffe to see Joel’s doctor, he said a whole lot of things she couldn’t really understand, but what she did come away knowing was that Joel’s back was not broken, but that there had been ‘severe damage’ to it and that he needed to lie flat and rest it completely.

Timidly, she asked, ‘Well, how long for?’

‘Quite a long time,’ the doctor told her. ‘Months, certainly.’

‘Months!’ she reported, anguished, to Bobby. How on earth are we going to manage?’

As ever, Alice Simons came to the rescue. If Joel needed complete rest and care, where else was he to find it other than with his father and aunt? There was no need for him to stay in hospital, so soon he was lying upstairs in the little house in Adelaide Street.

The children were very happy to spend a few days in and out of their auntie’s house, but they all knew that if they didn’t get moving again soon there’d be no money. Joel lay on his aunt’s clean white sheets, fuming with frustration.

‘We’ll manage for a bit,’ Maryann told him. ‘Bobby and me. We’ll just have to. Joley’s a big help now.’

‘I know – but I feel a right useless article lying here!’ He thumped the mattress beside him with his fist, then winced. ‘It’s like being a baby again – having to have someone help me, you know – do my business and that every time. Not doing right by my family. I feel a right fool, I do.’

Maryann took his callused hand and kissed it. ‘Should Bobby and me look for a load?’

‘You’ll have to. Get Bobby to go round all the usual and get back up to Sutton and see Essy. Tell him how it is. He can keep you on short trips for a bit.’

Later, over a cup of tea, Alice Simons said to Maryann, ‘Look, dear, if you’d like you could leave some of the children behind for a bit while you’re short-handed. The twins maybe? We could manage here and they’d be with their father.’

Despondently, Maryann swirled the dregs around in her cup. It was tempting, and was the practical thing to do, but her response was immediate.

‘No – ta very much, all the same. It’s kind of you, but I don’t want them split up if we can help it.’ She wasn’t coming back to find that Esther and Ada didn’t know her again! She wanted to keep her flesh and blood close by, even if they made life harder. It was bad enough leaving Joel behind.

Heavy hearted, she set off north again with Bobby the next day, after a loving farewell to Joel. His words still sounded in her ears.

‘Look after them, won’t you, little mate?’ She knew he meant the family, all the children. But he also meant his beloved boats.

Nineteen

Mr Barlow was not about when they reached Sutton Stop.

‘He’s up Glascote,’ Maryann reported back to Bobby. The main S. E. Barlow offices were at Glascote, near Tamworth. ‘I told Mr Veater what’s happened and he said he’d have a word with Essy and see if there might be a spare-wheeler going for us.’

She had hoped they might just find the
Isla
and
Neptune
tied up there so that Rose could spend a bit of time with Darius and she could chew the situation over with him too, but there was no sign of them. They were off on a long haul somewhere.

The next morning she and Bobby had begun washing out the boats when she saw Mr Veater’s trilby bobbing along the path towards them.

‘Morning!’ he called, and bent down to stroke Spots, who was standing on the bank with his back arched in a disgruntled fashion, keeping out of the way of the sloshing water.

‘I’ve got a proposal for you,’ Mr Veater said, straightening up.

Maryann jumped down onto the bank, straightening the scarf she had tied on to keep her hair back out of the way.

‘Proposal?’ The only proposal he usually came along with was their clearance papers.

‘There’s a new crew for you. Two girls. Got a couple of ’em from down London spare-wheeling at the moment. You can have ’em till Joel’s on his feet again.’

‘Girls?’
Maryann protested. ‘Two of them? But I don’t need two – I’ve got Bobby! Are they them volunteers?’

A smile tugged at Mr Veater’s lips at her indignation. ‘They’ve got them trained up, or so they say. What I reckon is, it’s best if the two of them stick together, them being birds of a feather, sort of thing. Bobby can go and work for someone else for a bit. That way it won’t upset the er … sleeping arrangements. And it’ll keep you three-handed. You’ve got your hands full as it is.’

Maryann was aghast. She couldn’t even begin to put her objections into words. She just gaped at Mr Veater. The volunteers were all very well in their place, but they didn’t work with real boatpeople, did they? Not as a rule. And here she was, about to be landed with two complete strangers who hardly knew one end of a boat from another. What in God’s name was the use of that?

‘But…’ she began, as Mr Veater started to turn away.

‘Apparently they’re already on their way from London,’ he said. ‘Don’t fret – it won’t be for long. And you’ll be able to teach them a thing or two.’

Bobby said his goodbyes and removed his small bundle of possessions to another boat.

‘Soon be back.’ He winked at Maryann, who was trying, dolefully, to smile. ‘Go easy on ’em now!’

Right,
she thought, as soon as he’d gone. She was still reeling with shock.
I’d better get to work. I’m not having some posh London misses coming down looking down their noses at my cabins!
While the children played on the bank and made dens in the boats’ empty holds, Maryann set to, washing clothes and hanging them in the crisp air and scrubbing every nook and cranny of both boats. She washed the plates and crochetwork and polished the brasses.

Sleeping’s going to be a squeeze,
she thought, as she polished the stove in the
Theodore.
She planned to move herself and all the children into the
Esther Jane. It was
the smaller of the two cabins, as the
Theodore
had no engine, but it was the family boat, after all, and she’d be in charge of it. Her children couldn’t sleep in with strangers: they’d all be in together now. Oh, why had she let herself be pushed into this? She missed Bobby already, with his relaxed, capable ways.

She was on edge all morning, snappish with the children, dreading the arrival of the two women. They were bound to be snooty and look down on her and how was she going to work with them when they barely knew the cut? As the day wore on, her mood darkened to the point where she had to ask herself why she was feeling quite so low and afraid, so angry at what was happening.

‘I don’t want strangers on our boats,’ she fumed, slamming her mattress down on the bed in the
Esther Jane.
‘I don’t want them coming here, prying into my life!’ She threw the pillow to the end of the bed. She felt raw and exposed. I just want things to stay the same. I don’t want them here!’

She hurried the children along with her to buy some groceries, then rushed back to begin cooking. By the late afternoon she had the stewpot bubbling away, the kettle on and the boat was well stocked and spick and span. It was only then that she took in the state of herself and the rest of the family.

The twins were smeared with everything they’d had their hands in all afternoon, Ezra looked as if he’d been down a coalpit and all their clothes were dark with grime. Maryann’s own frock was filthy and the front of her brown cardigan was coming unravelled. As Nance would have said,
Jesus, Mary and Joseph, will you look at the state of you!
They really did all look like gypsies!

‘Come over here and wash your hands and faces!’ she shouted to them. ‘We’ve got visitors coming. They’ll be here any minute!’

She drew up some cold water from the cut in the dipper and was about to add more hot from the kettle, but it was too late.

‘Look Mom – ’ Sally pointed – ‘they’re coming.’

Maryann froze in the hatches, the rag with which she had been about to begin on the children’s faces in her hands. Through the smoky dusk she saw two figures moving closer along the towpath, both heavily laden with bags and bedrolls, the taller of the two staggering slightly under the weight. Maryann narrowed her eyes. The taller one had pale, shoulder-length hair. The other one’s head was almost hidden behind the bundle in her arms. And they were both wearing trousers.

The family waited, mesmerized by the sight. Maryann had sat Ada and Esther side by side on the cabin roof, their little legs dangling above the counter, knees pink from the cold above their socks. Joley stood balanced on the gunwale close to them and Sally, Ezra and Rose stood on the bank. No one said a word as the two figures drew closer.

Peering at the front of the
Esther Jane,
the taller one said, ‘Ah – here we are. At last!’

Maryann felt herself tighten inside hearing that voice. It sounded like high little bells ringing. The way that small utterence was pronounced seemed to open up a vast gulf between her experiences and the kind of life the other woman had come from. It had been different at Charnwood House, when she’d worked in service. Everyone had their place there – family or servants. But now she was expected to live and work with these women!

Then she heard the other one say, in a deeper, booming voice, ‘It looks as if we’ve got a reception committee.’

They came on down to the
Theodore
and now they were visible: one slim with wavy blonde hair, the other round-faced and very plump, dark hair tied tightly back, but with a severe, very straight fringe.

‘Well, hello!’ the blonde said. ‘You must be Mrs Bartholomew.’

Maryann nodded, throwing the rag in through the cabin door. ‘That’s me.’ She couldn’t think of a single thing else she might say.

‘I say,’ the blonde said to her companion. ‘Let’s put this bally lot down and introduce ourselves properly.’

They were about to dump everything, bedrolls and all on the towpath, but Maryann, appalled at the thought of the mud being transferred into her spotless cabin, protested.

‘No – don’t do that! It’s mucky down there – put them inside. Here – I’ll show you.’

She stood outside the
Theodore,
arms folded, as they deposited their things.

‘I say, what a
superb
cabin,’ she heard the dark one say, and the other woman made some reply. When they came out again, the blonde one climbed down carefully from the counter. Maryann didn’t offer to help. The dark one bounced down, landing with surprising agility for her weight.

The blonde held her hand out. Close up, Maryann saw that her hair was rolled back from her forehead and pinned stylishly. She had a wide-eyed, rather birdlike face, not quite pretty, but sympathetic. In the half light Maryann thought, but was not certain, that she was wearing lipstick.

‘I’m Sylvia Cresswell. Mrs – normally, anyhow!’ Her laugh tinkled into the air. ‘I’m awfully glad to meet you, and I’m so sorry to hear about your husband’s frightful accident.’

Maryann shook the thin, cold hand and said awkwardly,‘Thanks – how d’you do?’

‘And I’m Dorothy Higgs-Deveraux,’ the other girl boomed. Her handshake was a lot more forceful. She had a broad, large-boned face and dark eyes. ‘Most people call me Dot.’

‘I’m Maryann Bartholomew,’ she said, as they both seemed to be waiting for her to add something more. She felt so rough beside them: her voice, her manners.

‘And these are your children?’ Sylvia asked, moving closer to them. ‘Goodness me – are they all yours? Who are these little lovelies then?’

‘Tell the ladies your names,’ Maryann commanded them sharply.

Joley and Sally managed to get theirs out, but the others were too overwhelmed by all the attention from these strangers.

‘That’s Ezra – he’s five,’ Maryann finished for them. ‘Rose here’s four – and the twins, Ada and Esther, are eighteen months now. Anyroad –’ she lifted the little ones briskly off the roof – ‘you’ll be wanting a cup of tea and summat to eat?’

‘That’d be
marvellous,’
Dot said. ‘I’m parched and I could eat a horse!’

They made as if to move into the
Esther Jane
with the family, but Maryann stood looking down at them from the counter.

‘We’ll bring you a plateful in your cabin. There’s no room in here with all of us.’

‘Ah –’ Sylvia faltered. ‘Yes, of course. So sorry.’

Maryann could see Sylvia had heard the chill in her voice and she felt rather triumphant. She wasn’t having them just moving in here and taking over the place!

She got Joley and Sally to carry the plates of stew and cups of tea along to the other cabin. When Sally came back, wide-eyed, she said, ‘That lady with the white hair’s got some pretty things.’

‘Has she?’ Maryann said sourly. Whatever fripperies she’d brought with her wouldn’t stay pretty long on here, she thought. Not once they got covered in smuts and muck.

‘They want to know what time to get up,’ Joley said.

Maryann spooned out their stew – a little ration of meat padded out with carrots and turnip. ‘Go and tell her, early – by six. We’ve got a load of coal to fetch.’

From now on she would have to bunk up with Joley and Sally, end to end beside her, and the two younger ones top to tail on the side bench, twins on the floor. Maryann lay in the darkness, hearing the occasional, mournful squawk of a water bird. She ached to be able to reach out and touch Joel beside her. Everything felt so peculiar and sad and she didn’t feel safe without him, so solid and true, beside her. She pictured him in his bed in Oxford and sent him a goodnight wish. Then the loathsome thought of the two unknown women lying in the
Theodore
came to her. Even the thought of them filled her with unease. Why had she agreed to let strangers come barging into her life, her family? She and Bobby could’ve struggled on together. As it was, that Sylvia looked as if she’d break if you dropped her and as for Dot, she was going to be a right bossy one, Maryann could see. What use were they going to be, coming onto the cut from their mollycoddled lives?