Dangerous Lady (8 page)

Margaret Lacey was the class bully and the children enjoyed seeing her get, for once, what she doled out so often.

‘Are you calling me a liar?’ The nun’s eyes had narrowed.

‘No, Sister!’ Margaret’s voice was stronger now. Whoever heard of calling a nun a liar? It was unthinkable. Her own mother would kill her if she knew. Her eyes were now riveted on the ruler in the nun’s hand. She knew that it was liable to come swishing down on her hands and legs at any moment.

Sister Rosario was enjoying Margaret’s discomfiture. Running her tongue across her teeth she glared down at the object of her annoyance. Her white wimple covered nearly all her head, revealing only wrinkled yellowing skin that, combined with her dark eyes, had earned her the epithet ‘Lizard Features’.

‘So … you admit to pulling Maura Ryan’s plait then?’

Maura watched Sister Rosario completely demoralise Margaret Lacey. She sat in her chair, her face scarlet. She did not thank this nun for making her the centre of

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attention. She knew that whatever Margaret got she would make sure Maura got it back one hundredfold.

‘Yes, Sister … I pulled Maura’s plait.’ This was said so low as to be virtually inaudible. ‘Speak up, child.’

‘Yes, Sister. I pulled Maura Ryan’s plait.’ The high piping little voice was trembling with fear.

Smiling smugly at the class, Sister Rosario lifted the ruler. ‘Hold out your hand then.’

The thin little hand came out. Margaret closed her eyes tightly as the ruler came down hard six times across her palm. Against her will, hot scalding tears burst from her eyes and down her cheeks. She held her injured hand to her breast as if frightened it might drop off, and at a nod from Sister Rosario made her way back to her desk, rubbing at her injured palm with the thumb of her good hand. Sister Rosario’s beady eyes scanned the classroom for about twenty seconds before she said, ‘Let that be a warning to any would-be bullies in this class. Next time it will be twelve strokes of the ruler and your name read out at mass.’ Thirty faces looked scandalised at the thought of having their name read out by Father McCormack. Picking up her chair, the nun turned to her blackboard and began writing on it.

Seizing her opportunity. Margaret leant forward across her desk and whispered to Maura.

‘You’re dead, Ryan. Come hometime I’m gonna kill you.’

Maura closed her eyes, a knot of fear already forming in her stomach. Everyone was frightened of Margaret Lacey, even some of the boys. Which was surprising really because she was so small. But small or not, she could fight and that was all that counted. Maura sat back in her chair and looked out of the window to the side of her. A group of younger children were playing rounders. The voice of Miss Norman, the games teacher, drifted in at the window now and again. Always encouraging, never reprimanding. As Maura watched the dust motes flying through the air in the rays of the June sun she wished that she was outside with the younger children. That she was anywhere away from Margaret Lacey and her cronies who would without doubt be waiting for her as she left the school. Why was it that time always flew when you didn’t want it to? The minutes sped by until the bell that heralded hometime.

Slowly Maura went to get her coat, hoping against hope that if she took long enough Margaret would get fed up and go home. She walked slowly from the school, across the playground and out of the gates into Latimer Road. Sure enough, Margaret was waiting for her, about twenty yards past the school gates. She had three of her cronies with her: Jennifer Howard, Betty Leeds and Vanessa Rouse. Maura began walking towards them like a condemned man on his way to the gallows. Prickles of sweat had broken out along her backbone. She bit down hard on her lip as she watched the four girls. She saw that Jennifer and Vanessa were laughing at her and something inside her stirred. In all her ten years she had always had one or other of her brothers watching out for her. Now here for the first time she was fighting her own battle. And fight it she would! She swallowed deeply. She could hear her heart crashing in her ears. She decided then and there that she was not going to stand for it. She had eight brothers and had had to fight or argue with every one of them at some time or another. Holding her head high, she walked faster, swinging her schoolbag menacingly. 64

The four girls looked at each other, puzzled. This wasn’t supposed to happen! First they were going to make her squirm, then Margaret was going to hit her … Betty Leeds began to hop from one foot to another, a sure sign of agitation. Vanessa and Jennifer stepped back behind Margaret. Maura stopped in front of them, still swinging her school bag. She gave a loud sniff.

‘Well?’ The insolent way she said it made the other girls gasp with astonishment. Margaret Lacey soon found her tongue.

‘I’ll “well” you, you ugly bitch you! I’m gonna smash your face in!’

The other girls smiled. This was more like it. ‘Well then, don’t just stand there talking about it… do it!’

All eyes were glued to the swinging schoolbag. Margaret was silent for a few seconds. She could feel the others losing their nerve. If she didn’t do something, and soon, they would desert her. She spat on to the pavement casually.

‘I will when I’m good and ready!’ Margaret Lacey was getting more worried by the second. She had thought she’d give Maura’s long blonde hair a few good tugs, a scratch or two on her face, and then home to tea, basking in the other girls’ admiration. Now she wasn’t sure what to do. She might even get hit herself! She decided on a delaying tactic. Kneeling down on the dusty pavement, she made as if to tie her shoelaces.

The next thing she knew, she was lying sprawled across the pavement. Maura’s schoolbag had hit her straight in the side of the head. Next, her long red hair was pulled so hard she felt as if it was going to come out by the roots. Finally, she felt a kick on the knee that brought a shocked cry to her throat. She lay on the pavement staring up at

Maura Ryan, amazed. Her three friends had already run off. As soon as Maura’s schoolbag had hit Margaret in the head, they had made their escape, frightened in case Maura decided on a repeat performance on one of them!

Maura just stood there stunned, staring at Margaret lying at her feet. She had done that! She had knocked Margaret Lacey down! She could feel her chest swelling with the joy of it. She had actually defended herself against Margaret Lacey, the school bully, and she had won. She had done it alone without one of her brothers to defend her!

Seeing Margaret begin to pull herself up, Maura’s natural kindness came to the fore. This would be all over the school tomorrow. She tentatively held out her hand to help Margaret up. The smaller girl looked at her long and hard before accepting it. Maura pulled her to her feet and began to brush down Margaret’s uniform, which was covered in grey dust. This was all done in silence, except for the occasional sniff. Maura saw the small swelling on Margaret’s grubby knee and felt ashamed of herself. She had kicked her very hard and Margaret was smaller than her. In silent agreement they walked together down Latimer Road, into Bramley Road and then through to Lancaster Road, where both girls lived. They stopped outside Margaret’s house first and stood looking at one another. ‘ Margaret sniffed loudly and said, ‘Come in if you want. Me mum’s at work.’

It was the hand of friendship. Maura shrugged nonchalantly. ‘All right then.’

They walked up the steps that led to the front door. Margaret’s house was the same as Maura’s except it had been made into flats. Margaret’s family lived on the top floor. Being large town houses they were three storeys

high with large basements. As many as five families lived in them. As they made their way up the stairs the smell of cooking and urine seemed to overpower them. Margaret’s flat had no lock on the door. There was no need for one, there was nothing to steal.

‘You take off your things and I’ll make us some bread and Marmite.’

‘Ooh, lovely. I love Marmite.’ As Margaret made the sandwiches and a pot of weak tea, Maura glanced around her. The room was filthy, clothes and newspapers strewn everywhere. Unlike her own home that was stoved regularly, cockroaches were on everything. A particularly adventurous one with large quivering antennae was being slowly buried in the rancid margarine. Maura shuddered inwardly. The last few years her mother had been waging a war on all vermin, including bed bugs. Money was now plentiful in her home, thanks to Michael’s employing her brothers in his business, while the majority of the people in Lancaster Road were still no better off than they had been before the war. Margaret’s mother worked at the new Black Cat cigarette factory out in Harlow and her father still worked in Lyons bakery. Maura watched with distaste as Margaret flicked the cockroach out of the margarine with the breadknife. It landed on the floor where it lay on its back, its numerous legs doing cycling motions as it tried to right itself. Wrinkling her nose Margaret stepped on it, the crunching noise sounding like a gunshot in the hot evening air.

‘I hate them bloody things.’ ‘So do I.’ Maura’s voice sounded small.

Soon the girls were eating their sandwiches and drinking weak tea. Neither of them mentioned what had taken place outside the school and neither of them would. From outside, the sounds of a game of cricket floated into the

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hot airless room. Finishing her tea, Maura got up to go. Margaret offered Maura her little finger with a shy smile. Maura linked it with her own, vowing that the two girls would be best friends for always - through thick and thin. This was the female way of becoming blood brothers - unlike the boys they did not cut each other’s thumbs.

Margaret walked Maura down the stairs to the street. ‘ i’ll be here in the morning to walk to school. OK?’

Margaret nodded her head vigorously. ‘See you then, Maura.’

“Bye.’ Maura walked towards her own house. She felt lighthearted and gay. What had started out as a bad day had suddenly become brighter.

In the road a gang of boys with a makeshift cricket bat stopped their game to look at her. Already the news was travelling fast. Dinny O’Brien, one of Garry’s friends, smiled at her.

‘That right you podgered Margaret Lacey, Maws?’

She nodded, feeling herself blush.

‘We’re friends now, Dinny.’ He looked away, disgusted. Trust girls! In Dinny’s code, if you beat someone in a fight you made their life misery for as long as possible. You did not become friends with them.

Maura hurried home. As she let herself in at the front door her mother’s voice came booming out of the kitchen.

‘Is that you, Maura!’ !

‘Yes, Mum.’

She went into the kitchen where Sarah was standing, hands on hips, her face like thunder.

‘Where have you been, you bloody little sod? I’ve been out of my mind with worry about you.’

Maura chewed on her lip, staring at her mother. She very rarely got told off and when she did it upset her.

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‘Well? Answer me, you little cow.’ Sarah’s face was haggard.

‘I went to me friend’s house and had a bit of tea.’ Her enormous blue eyes had tears glistening on their lashes. Sarah saw her daughter’s face crumple and her heart melted. Pulling the child into her arms, she hugged her close.

‘I’m sorry, love, but you gave me such a fright. It’s not like you to stay out like that. You’re normally the first one home. I was worried.’

‘I’m sorry, Mum, I won’t do it again, I promise,’ She tried to smile at her mother, genuinely sorry to have vexed her.

. ‘I sent Benny, Garry and Lee out looking for you.’ As if her words had conjured them up, all three burst into the kitchen.

‘Mum … Mum!’ They were all talking at once. ‘Have a guess what!’

‘One at a time … One at a time.’ She held up her hands for silence then pointed at Garry, the most honest of the three.

‘Right then, Garry, you tell me what happened.’

He pointed at Maura who was beginning to panic.

‘It’s her’ ;

‘What about her?’ Sarah looked at Maura, a frown on her face. ;

‘She’s been and gone and smashed Margaret Lacey’s face in!’

Sarah’s eyes widened. ‘She’s what!’

The tone of her voice frightened Maura. She pulled on her mother’s flowery apron.

‘I had to, Mum. She was gonna kill me ‘cos Sister Rosario gave her the ruler for pulling me plaits.’ She looked into her mother’s face, pleading for understanding.

‘Am I hearing right? You …’ she pointed at Maura ‘… had a fight with Margaret Lacey.’ She screwed up her eyes as if she was having difficulty seeing her child.

Maura was gabbling with fright. ‘I hit her with me bag but we’re friends now, Mum. That’s where I was earlier when you were looking for me.’

Sarah shook her head slowly as if to clear it. So this one had gone too, another fighter in the family.

‘Go on, all of you … out in the street to play. Your dad will be in soon and I haven’t got a bit of food on.’ She pushed the children towards the kitchen door. She wanted them all away from her.

The three boys ran out. Maura stood for a second looking at her mother. ‘I’m sorry, Mum … honestly.’

Sarah’s voice was tired. ‘Get yourself outside, Maws. Go on now.’

When she had gone, Sarah poured herself out a large mug of thick black tea. She spooned four heaped spoonsful of sugar into it and some condensed milk and sat at the kitchen table. She sipped her tea and her body seemed to sag in the chair. Her mind was racing, though.

Leslie, aged twenty, was doing three years for robbery. Anthony, aged twenty-two, was with him, doing five years for robbery and malicious wounding. Michael was like the local Mafia, everyone was frightened of him. He now had all the older boys working for him.-Over the years she had forced these thoughts from her mind, telling herself that her sons were the product of their father. And now this! Her only daughter, the apple of her eye, had been brawling in the street. It just wasn’t fair. Her mother used to say that what was bred in the bone came out in the blood, and she had been right.