A Whisper to the Living (33 page)

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Authors: Ruth Hamilton

BOOK: A Whisper to the Living
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‘Hiya, kid.’ Martin clapped a hand on to Simon’s shoulder.

‘Hello, Simon.’ She stood under the square chandelier, her hand still in Martin’s. No, he couldn’t describe her, apart from how she looked, that sad-happy smile, the fall of yellow hair left loose to cover her long back right down to the waist, clear green eyes set wide under a smooth white forehead, the small straight nose with its sprinkling of freckles. Nonconformist might be the word for Anne, who seemed unaware of, or at least unaffected by, the fashion of the day, rarely tying her hair back into a typical pony-tail, never to be seen in a skirt held impossibly wide by layers of crackle-nylon. As usual, she wore rolled-up jeans, white socks and sandals and an over-large sweater with a plain crew neck. But she stood out, for her brightness came from within and she needed no garish feathers to enhance her beauty. Because for Simon, she was beauty – not beautiful, but the very essence of all that was soul-touching. Was empathy, he wondered, akin to love? Yet he felt no jealousy, no resentment towards Martin. He liked him, loved him even, in the way one might love a brother, an older and more worldly-wise blood relation who offered comradeship and demanded little in return.

She placed a hand on Simon’s arm. ‘I can’t stay long. My mother isn’t too well – Auntie Jessie’s with her just now, but I’ll have to get back before she leaves.’

‘I’m only glad you came. War could break out at any minute – I may need troops.’

Martin stepped forward. ‘Listen, Sime. If she doesn’t want us, we’ll go – I’ll get them all out if this means trouble for you.’ The noise from upstairs was deafening, music blaring, laughter and the stamping of feet echoing throughout the house.

David let himself in at the front door and Simon, relieved beyond measure, stepped aside to allow his father into the hall.

‘Noisy, eh?’ grinned David, his eyes flicking towards the ceiling. He followed them upstairs and into the room, his smile broadening while he watched a pair of rock ’n’ rollers whose dancing displayed a degree of athleticism that had to be admired. When the performance had ended, Lofty offered him a lemonade and David sat on a canvas chair sipping at the mug of fizzing liquid. One of the girls, brightly painted and in a dress of multicoloured glazed cotton, came over to him. ‘We want to say ta, Doc, for lettin’ us come in your ’ouse.’

‘Hello, Margaret – I hardly recognized you! You’re welcome, all of you. Now listen.’ They waited, respect plain on their faces, for David to continue. ‘I’m laying down no rules, but don’t go wild. Know what I mean?’ They nodded, murmuring their agreement. ‘This is a big house, plenty of room for everyone, but please remember that it is fastened to the house next door, that glass is thin and that if you get too loud, you’ll disturb the whole neighbourhood.’

Margaret smiled. ‘We don’t dance all t’ time, Doc. Sometimes we just sit talkin’ – or listenin’ to Annie more like it. Once she gets on ’er ’igh ’orse over summat, she can start a right good thing goin’ – interestin’ – you know?’

‘Oh shut up, Maggie,’ said Annie, blushing. ‘You give your sixpennyworth and you know it.’

‘Aye. But t’ difference atween thee an’ me is I allers wants fivepence change!’

They all laughed and Lofty broke away to put another record on the Dansette. David slipped out quietly, only to find that Margaret had followed him on to the landing.

‘’Ey, Doc. Can I ’ave a quick word?’

‘Certainly. Here or in the surgery?’

‘Oh ’ere’ll do. It’s nowt really, just me Mam – she’s gone a bit funny, like. She sits there for hours, starin’ into t’ fire, there’s never no tea when we come in from school. She’s like . . . sad, if you know what I mean.’

Poor Margaret, thought David. Not yet fifteen and with the body and mind of a woman already. He thought about Dolly Nelson, knowing only too well the reason for her depression. A fifth child on the way, her husband gone, no sign of the baby’s father putting in an appearance or offering support. ‘I’ve seen your mother. She’ll get better in time, I’m sure. But you’re a sensible girl – there is something you can do to help.’

‘Consider it done, Doc.’

Yes, she was a bright girl, this oldest of Dolly Nelson’s children. Young people these days had a certain resilience, pondered David, wondering obliquely whether all that cod-liver oil had done some good after all. These war-babies were a tough breed, stronger in mind and body than any previous generation. ‘Try to get her to eat the right foods, Margaret. She’s overweight . . .’

‘I know, she’s fat, I’ve told ’er that.’

‘Fish, green vegetables, fruit – those are the kind of foods she should be eating.’

‘Aye. She’s taken to fruit lately.’

‘Well, that’s a good sign, isn’t it?’

As she went off to join the others, David remained on the landing, his head moving slowly from side to side. Yes, it was a sign. But not necessarily a good one.

Jessie Gallagher sat in the rocker by the living-room range, staring at her sister who occupied the straight-backed chair opposite hers. Jessie’s mouth hung open, her jaw slack yet immovable as she tried to take in what their Nancy had just said. And the way she’d told it too, like she was reading it out of a book, like it had happened to somebody else.

‘I don’t want it spreading, Jessie. I’ve told you because I trust you and . . . well, I needed to talk to somebody round my own age and it had to be family.’

‘Does our Annie know?’ Jessie finally managed.

‘She knows he went for a nurse – she doesn’t need any pictures drawing.’ Of course, she hadn’t told Jessie about the other thing, about him and Annie . . . Unable to sit still with the thoughts, she jumped up to pour tea.

‘Well,’ said Jessie. ‘Well, I’ll go to the foot of our stairs – who’d have thought it, eh? And him such a quiet man.’

‘Happen it’s the quiet ones that need watching, Jess. Them as makes a noise gets things out of their system. He was a brooder.’ Yes, she was talking about him in the past tense and that was right, because he’d gone, gone forever, just as if he were dead and buried.

‘Will it get in the papers, Nancy?’

A spoon clattered to the floor as Nancy steadied herself against the table’s edge ‘Eeh no – I never thought. Oh my God, how could I forget the papers? Oh no no . . .’

‘Now calm yourself. See, sit down while I make the brew. What’s done’s done and there’s nowt to make it different.’

Nancy sat by the fire while Jessie took over the tea-making, stirring a little extra sugar into her sister’s cup. ‘I wish I’d kept my gob shut now, I do. I’d no intentions of upsetting you, not with what’s already on your plate . . .’

‘Nay, you’re right, lass. It’s a consideration, by God it is.’

‘Give over. It might never get in the
Evening News
anyroad.’


Evening News
? This could make the front page of the
News of the World
, this could. After all, if that poor nurse was hurt bad . . .’ For the first time, Nancy found herself really thinking, caring about his victim. She must be in a terrible state. Aye, Nancy knew what he could be like. She felt sick to the core as she remembered the black silent shape hovering over her in the night, his body slick and vile-smelling with all that sweat. Oh, she’d had to put up with it – he was her husband. Even a paper Catholic couldn’t refuse. But the other things he’d tried to make her do, unnatural things, nothing to do with making babies, then the anger when she’d refused to allow . . . She fled to the kitchen and retched fruitlessly over the sink while Jessie patted her back and murmured words of comfort.

‘Oh Jessie – that poor girl . . .’

‘Come on. Have you finished? See, have a glass of water – sip it slow now.’

But she couldn’t swallow, her stomach still heaved. ‘To think I lived for years with a creature like that . . . oh Jessie, Jessie . . .’

‘That’s right, love. You have a good cry, it’s only natural.’

When Nancy was calmer, they returned to their seats by the fire. Jessie knew she would have to be going soon. Where was that girl? Fancy her leaving her Mam at a time like this. ‘Where’s Annie?’ she asked now.

‘With her friends – oh I made her go. If you’d seen the state she was in the other night, you’d have done the same. She’s never left my side till now – I had to kick her out. Even then I saw her standing at the corner waiting till she saw you get off the bus. This isn’t something she can tell her mates, Jessie. She’ll have to put a brave face on and the sooner she starts, the better. Don’t you worry. She’ll look after me alright. We’ll look after one another.’

‘Well, I’ll have to get the ten past. Eugene wants the last half hour in the Feathers and I’ll have to see to the kids.’

‘I’ll be alright. Anyway, it’s only twenty to.’

A sharp rapping at the front door brought them both to their feet.

‘I’ll go,’ said Jessie.

‘No.’ Nancy rubbed her face with the corner of her apron. ‘I’d better do it. It might be to do with what’s happened. I’ve got to face these things, it’s my problem, not yours.’

She was somehow not surprised to find Dolly Nelson on the doorstep.

‘Can I come in, Mrs ’Igson? Only I’ve sat in waitin’ fer you ter drop by, like . . .’

Nancy stepped aside to let her pass, noticing how the woman’s vast bulk seemed to fill the narrow vestibule.

As they entered the living room, Dolly exclaimed, ‘Ooh, I never realized as ’ow you ’ad a visitor.’

‘It’s alright.’ Nancy spoke from behind the woman. ‘You can go in.’

The two sisters stood side by side with their backs to the fireplace as Dolly eased herself into a chair at the table. Moments passed while they waited for her to speak.

‘It’s . . . well . . . private, like.’

Nancy glanced at Jessie. ‘It doesn’t matter. Whatever you’ve come to say can be said in front of my sister.’

‘I’ll go if you want.’ Jessie made for the sofa where her coat lay, but Nancy took hold of her arm and pulled her back.

They both continued to stare at the massive female whose flesh seemed to overflow into every corner of the room.

‘It’s about your Eddie,’ she eventually began. ‘’E’s in the ’ospital, isn’t ’e?’

‘Yes. The TB sanatorium,’ replied Nancy.

‘Only I’ve gorra message for ’im. Summat as won’t keep.’

Nancy walked to the table and sat down opposite Dolly, wondering what was coming next and how much more she could take. This woman was trouble, she knew it in her bones. And Annie had said as much in her own way, hadn’t she?

‘What message?’

Dolly studied Nancy carefully for several seconds before announcing, ‘I’m carryin’.’

‘What?’

‘You ’eard – I’m carryin’.’

‘A . . . a baby?’

‘Aye.’

Nancy’s fists curled themselves tight on the green check cloth. A million to one chance, a million to one, thank God it was Dolly and not . . .

‘Are you sure it’s his?’ Jessie was asking now.

‘It’s Eddie’s right enough.’ The answer came loud and definite.

A million to one and a million thoughts in her brain. It might have been his own baby he’d kicked to death that time . . . he killed babies . . . he raped nurses . . . a million to one . . . he nearly raped Annie . . . a baby was coming, the nurse was having a baby, Annie was having his . . .

Nancy slumped across the table in a dead faint. The two women leapt up and lifted her, dragging her across the rug towards the sofa.

‘Eeh nay,’ puffed Dolly. ‘I never expected ’er to take on this road. Good God, it’s not th’ end o’ t’ world now, is it?’

‘She’s a lot on her mind,’ said Jessie curtly. ‘Just lift her legs up then get that tot of brandy off the sideboard – fetch a teaspoon while you’re at it.’

Jessie poured drops of brandy between her sister’s lips while Dolly patted Nancy’s cheeks gently. ‘Come on now, lass. Buck up. It’s me what’s in t’ family way, not thee.’

Nancy coughed as the alcohol hit her throat and her eyes flew open, fixing themselves on Dolly’s anxious round face.

‘Mrs Nelson . . .’ Nancy struggled to sit up.

‘Call me Dolly. And lie down, fer God’s sake.’

‘Mrs Nelson.’ She gripped Dolly’s wrist. ‘Were you willing?’

‘Willin’? Oh aye, I see what you mean. Yes, I were willin’.’ She cast a puzzled look in Jessie’s direction. ‘Why should she ask that?’ she mouthed in a whisper.

Jessie drew Dolly away from the sofa. ‘She’s confused, I reckon. Not been well, you see, not eating enough. She’s gone and got herself light-headed, that’ll be why she fainted. Anyroad, she looks to have dozed off now, so come and sit by the fire for a bit.’

‘Ooh, I’d never ’ave come if I’d ’ave knowed she were like that,’ said Dolly, smacking her thick lips over a cup of sweet stewed tea. ‘I mean, it were a case of not knowin’ where to turn. You see, I’m up t’ spout – t’ doctor says so, so it must be reet. I’ve no man. I’ve got four kids already an’ now Eddie’s landed me wi’ another bellyful.’

‘How long was it going on, you and him?’

‘Oh, months. I ’ad ’opes of ’im comin’ ter live wi’ me. We was proper fond o’ one another, me an’ Eddie. Got on a treat, we did.’

‘Does he know about this baby?’

‘Nay, why’d you think I’m ’ere? I didn’t come just to make trouble, tha knows. I’ve been up the ’ospital an’ they said no visitors, said as ’ow ’e were in isolation or summat. So I couldn’t tell ’im, could I? Is ’e bad?’

‘Oh, he’s bad alright.’ The irony in Jessie’s tone passed unnoticed.

‘I see. Will ’e not be comin’ out then?’

Jessie shrugged her shoulders. ‘I’ve no idea. But if he does come out, it won’t be for a long time.’

Dolly balanced her cup on the fireguard. ‘Oh ’eck. What the ’ell am I goin’ ter do?’

‘How far gone are you?’

‘Too far fer a bottle o’ gin ter do any good, I can tell yer.’

‘Well, in that case, I’m as flummoxed as you are. He’s not likely to be earning, so if it’s money you’re after, you’ve come to the wrong shop. Our Nancy’s got nothing to spare and anyroad, she can’t be paying for his mistakes – aye, and yours too.’

Dolly stared miserably into the fire. ‘I just want ’im told, that’s all.’

Jessie measured her next statement carefully. ‘Then you’ll have to tell him yourself. Nancy won’t go near him now she knows he’s been getting off with you. She’s a proud lass, is our Nancy. The marriage was going sour anyroad. No,’ she sighed. ‘I don’t reckon his chances of seeing her again after this.’

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