The woman was not convinced. 'All I can say is, if your fella really did beat that woman senseless, he deserves to be where he is. They say she can be mad as a crazed dog—has these frightening fits and doesn't know what she's doing.'
'I've heard the same, but who knows what truth there is in it?' Maureen had retorted. 'Happen she's not ill at all. Happen she's seeking attention, like kids do when they can't have their own way.'
'Oh, it's true all right!' The woman drew Maureen to a halt. 'She's the wife of Luke Hammond, ain't she?'
That's right.'
'Well, my brother works for Luke Hammond and he says it's the talk of the factory—how she drives her poor husband to distraction at times…half crazed and doesn't know what she's doing, that's how they describe her. She's followed the poor bugger into work before now, went from one man to another, asking questions about where he is, and who he's with. And even though it's a known fact that she cheated on him, he won't hear a word said against her. She has the best of everything, and he's always there for her day and night…That's what they say.'
A short time later the tram stopped outside Corporation Park. 'All off that's getting off,' the conductor called, and two men disembarked.
Through the window, Maureen glanced along the entrance to the park, and there, just disappearing from sight towards the lake, she spied Amy and Johnny.
'WAIT!' Rushing down the gangway she told the conductor, 'I'll get off here!'
With his finger already poised on the bell to send them forward, he gave her a wry little glance. 'I thought you were headed for Henry Street?'
'I was,' she admitted, 'but now I've changed my mind.'
'We don't give refunds,' he chided.
'I don't want a refund,' she replied. 'I just want to get off if that's all right with you?'
'Off you go then, missus.' Stepping obligingly aside to let her disembark, he said cheekily, 'Don't get lost, will you?'
Maureen wagged a finger. 'You behave yourself. I know exactly where I'm going.'
Once she was off the tram, she went away at a fast pace up the main walkway to the park, and with quickening steps, hurried towards the lake at the top of the hill, where she had seen Amy and little Johnny.
It was a long walk and with the sun belting down, she was soon made to slow her pace.
Amy held Johnny in a firm grip. 'Remember what your mammy said,' she told him. 'You're to keep away from the water.' The lake was notoriously deep in places.
The boy tugged hard on her hand. 'Ducks!' Pointing with his other hand he gestured to Amy's bag. 'They want their dinner.'
'Be patient,' she laughed. 'They won't go far when they know there's food about.'
Seating the boy on the bench, Amy took out the bread and, breaking it into small bites, gave him a fistful. 'Come on then,' she said. 'Mind you stay back when you throw it, and keep a hold of my hand.'
Amy helped the boy to throw out the breadcrumbs.
The ducks came forward at full speed, making long, spreading patterns in the water as they swam in formation.
'Look, Amy, look!' As the last of the bread was taken, little Johnny laughed, which Amy took great delight hearing.
'Sounds like somebody's having fun.' As Maureen came through the shrubbery, the boy ran towards her. Maureen opened her arms to him and, yet again, was amazed by the change in him that had occurred over these past weeks. Now confident, he was quick to laugh, and his, eyes shone with the joy of life. It was a wonderful thing to see.
Taking him into her embrace, she smiled at Amy, who had collected their belongings and was now coming towards her. 'He must have been enjoying himself,' Maureen said gratefully. i heard him laughing as I came round the corner.'
'He's been having a great time,' Amy told her. 'We've climbed the banks to the top of the world—we could see the whole of Blackburn town and all the church spires—and afterwards we played hide and seek in the gardens.'
'I don't know how to thank you,' Maureen told her as they headed back down along the main walkway.
'There's nothing to thank me for,' Amy said. 'I've had a wonderful time. Johnny is a delight to be with.'
Maureen watched her son bouncing and skipping down the path, and her heart filled with gratitude. 'You don't know what you've done for us,' she told Amy. 'There was a time when I thought he might never smile again. He was timid and unsure, and treated everybody with suspicion. At one time he even gave up talking, and it was a trial to get him to eat.' Her voice shook with emotion. 'They were dark days.' She looked to where the boy was happily playing. 'And just look at him now!' Grabbing Amy by the hand she drew her to a halt, her eyes suddenly brimming with tears. '"Thank you" isn't enough,' she murmured. 'You can't know how you've changed our lives.'
Closing her hand over the other woman's, Amy told her how she was glad to have been of some help. It was a curious thing, she thought, how this woman and her son had not only moved into the street, but had also moved into her own heart.
Amy realised that there must have been something very bad in their lives to have brought them down to where they were now. And what was it that had affected the boy in such a way that he had become so afraid of people?
As they meandered their way down the lane, Amy mustered the courage to ask, 'Did something happen that caused Johnny to shy away from people?'
Taken aback by Amy's direct question, Maureen took a moment to answer. T don't really know.' She had learned to lie convincingly. 'He was all right, and then he wasn't.'
Amy realised she was not telling the whole truth. As she'd spoken, Maureen had glanced about as though she were afraid somebody might be listening. 'Are.you all right, Maureen?'
Maureen nodded, but rather than lie to Amy again, she remained silent.
'Look, Maureen, if you ever need a friend, I'm here for you,' Amy told her. 'Always remember that.'
It was only slight, almost inaudible, but Amy was certain she heard a smothered sob. 'I wish I had the courage to confide in you,' Maureen answered sadly, 'and I do need a friend.'
'Whenever you're ready,' Amy assured her. 'I want to help…if I can.'
They continued on their way, to the sound of birdsong, and the boy's hearty laughter as he went roly-poly down the grass bank.
It was such a glorious day, Amy thought. The hot sun beat down on them and the mingling scents of flowers created a pleasant aura around them. They went on quietly a little further, and still there was that air of mystery and secrets.
After a while, Amy was compelled to speak. 'You needn't be afraid to confide in me,' she told Maureen. 'I want you to know that whatever you tell me will always stay a secret.'
For one mad, unthinking minute, Maureen almost confided in Amy. But then Arnold's words echoed in her mind: 'You mustn't tell anyone!' and her courage disappeared.
She looked away. 'Thank you,' she said brightly, 'but there's nothing to tell.'
In that desperate moment she felt more lonely than she had felt at any time in her life. She desperately needed to speak with Amy, about the things that played on her mind. She needed to open her heart and tell of the things that haunted her; and the other things that had made little Johnny the frightened shadow he had been, before Amy had won his trust and his love.
But however much she wanted to open her mouth and let the words come out, they stuck fast in her throat. She would have left Arnie years back and for many reasons, but where would she go? And, besides, she loved him. That was the trouble.
As they neared the gate, Amy saw how even in the warmth of the day, Maureen's face was drained of colour. 'You'd best sit down,' she urged, leading her to the bench. 'You look so tired, Maureen.'
For a moment, Amy sat beside the older woman, and together they watched Johnny as he played on the grass. Suddenly Amy realised that Maureen was softly crying, the tears rolling down her face and her whole body shaking.
'Tell me what's haunting you?' she urged tenderly. 'Whatever it is, you need to share it.' She could feel Maureen's pain. 'Please, Maureen, for your own sake, let me help.'
Wiping away her tears with the cuff of her sleeve, Maureen nodded. 'Will you promise not to tell anyone?'
Without hesitation Amy agreed, and as Maureen told her the whole sorry tale, she learned why Johnny had become the way he was.
Maureen told her how some years ago her husband, a man of uncertain temper, had thrown her out on the streets and taken another woman into his bed. 'For a long time I was awfully lonely…even suicidal at one stage. But I pulled myself up and found a little job with a room as well. Then I met a new man, and everything was going along nicely.'
'So what happened?' Maureen had not mentioned the name of any man, not once in all their conversation. That was a curious thing.
'Then I became pregnant and right from the day Johnny was born, his father resented him. Sometimes, when he came home drunk, he would stand over Johnny's cot and stare at him for ages. He wouldn't do or say anything, he would just stand at the foot of the cot and stare at him. It used to frighten me so much, that as soon as his daddy had gone to his bed, I'd sneak Johnny out of the cot and take him with me, to the spare room."
Amy thought Johnny's father must be mad and said so.
'There were times when I thought that too,' Maureen admitted, 'but things did get better, and as Johnny started walking and looking more like a boy than a baby, and had learned to say "Daddy", they seemed to get closer.'
Lowering her voice so the boy wouldn't hear, she went on, 'I found out later, it was just an act.'
Amy wasn't surprised at that. 'What do you mean? How did you find out?'
'It was a day much like today,' Maureen explained. 'The sun was shining and die boy was restless. I'd been poorly that night—tummy upset or something. Anyway, I was feeling under the weather. He offered to take the boy out of my way for a while…down to the bridge, where they could watch the barges passing underneath. This is what, I learned later, happened.
'They were heading down the street towards the bridge with Johnny running ahead, and suddenly he fell over. He started crying and wouldn't stop, and that was when his father laid into Johnny with his fist.'
'My God, that's awful!'
'Luckily, a man who was passing witnessed it all, rescued Johnny and saw his father off. This man was, by the greatest good fortune, Arnie, my husband. He was alone again, regretting what he'd done, and had been watching over us. It was fate—I know it was. He brought Johnny to me and that was when I knew we were meant to be together.'
A look of shame shadowed her homely face. 'You see, I still loved him. I never stopped loving him, not once. But pride had stopped me contacting him. And with another man's child in tow, I was certain he'd want nothing to do with me anyway.'
Amy could hear Maureen's love for this man shining in her voice as she spoke. 'So you went back to him in the end?'
'I had to.' Maureen's quiet smile was evidence enough of the way she felt towards her husband. 'He had always been my life and always would be. The time when we were apart was the worst time of my life. But there have been bad times since.' Her voice quivered. 'Sometimes I wonder if it might have been wise not to have gone back to him. But he's never laid a hand on Johnny, and whatever else he's guilty of I'm grateful for that.'
'And Johnny…?' Only now was Amy beginning to realise the extent of worry Maureen had endured.
'He was black and blue. I realised after that bruises I'd taken to be the result of tumbles while playing had probably been caused all along by his father hitting him.'
Maureen finished, 'He would shy away from strangers and even though Arnie did the best he could to get close to the boy, Johnny cowered away from him. He became terrified of all men. From that day to this, he's never forgotten.'
She looked at Johnny and a shine came into her eyes that told Amy how much she loved the child.
'I've
never forgotten either,' she murmured. 'I never will.'
Amy was curious. 'And how are things between you and your husband now?' She didn't want to pry, but she wondered if the husband being absent had anything to do with what had happened to Johnny. Maybe the child had been unable to cope with the presence of any man.
Maureen was tempted to tell her the truth. She trusted Amy, but was it fair to burden her with the facts? How would Amy take it if she knew that Arnie was in prison for beating Sylvia Hammond half to death?
She decided not to mention it at all. More than anything, she did not want to risk losing Amy's friendship.
'We went through a bad patch,' she told Amy now. 'The landlord sold the house from under us, and Arnie got a job working down South.' She hated lying to Amy, but it had to be done. 'Meanwhile, I had to find a place for me and the boy. That's when I heard about the house on Derwent Street. It's only two bedrooms, but that's all we need, and the rent is cheap. We got a bit of money from the sale of our furniture and belongings when we left the other house, so we'll manage all right, as long as I count the pennies. I'm keeping a lookout for work in a hotel kitchen, or a shop, where I might be able to take Johnny with me.'
'Have you seen anything yet?' Amy would have offered to look after Johnny while Maureen went off to work, but the shop was busy most times and she didn't think her mother would welcome a small child under her feet while trying to serve the customers. Still, if she could help Maureen in any other way, she would. 'If you got a little job, I'd always be willing to take Johnny off your hands,' she offered. 'I'd even change my day off, if that suited.'
'Aw, that's lovely of you to offer,' Maureen said gratefully, 'but I know how hard you work, and I would never dream of taking up your one day off. Don't you worry, I'll find something suitable, I'm sure. There might even be somebody on the Saturday market that would let me help run the stall and take Johnny along.'
That idea had been playing on her mind these past few days. 'I'll go through the market this Saturday,' she said hopefully. 'Who knows, I might just be lucky?'