Mother’s Only Child (43 page)

Barney, in fact, had got himself a nice little earner. MacKay owned a bookie’s and the night Barney had told him about the events at Dunlop’s, he offered him the job of bookie’s runner.

‘The last geezer has just been sent down for three months,’ he told Barney. ‘So you’ve got to keep your eyes peeled for the rozzers, like, but the job’s yours if you want it.’

Barney wanted it all right and the money was useful, especially as now he began to be hooked on horse racing as well as poker, where he could lose money just as effectively.

All through the cold days of January, February and even into March, Maria took Theresa and Jack out when they couldn’t stand the cold in their house any longer, tucking them both in the pram to keep them warm. On very bleak or wet days, they would make for the library in Erdington, where it was warm and dry. Maria would read countless books to the children and for a little while they were able to forget their grumbling stomachs.

It was at the end of March that Patsy had an idea to put to Maria.

‘Dressmaking?’ Maria said doubtfully. ‘Do you really think I could make money with it?’

‘Course you could,’ Patsy said confidently. ‘Look at the great comments you got when people realised you had made the girls’ Communion dresses.’

‘Yes, but—’

‘No buts. You’ll not know until you try and, God knows, it is better than doing nothing.’

Maria had to admit that. It was just that when you were stuck in grinding poverty and constantly hungry, it was hard to think about anything other than the next meal, let alone get enthusiastic about anything.

‘I mean,’ Patsy went on, ‘after September, you will only have Jack at home.’

‘Aye,’ Maria said. She could hardly wait for Theresa to join her sister. At school she would have a third of a pint of milk each day, as well as a hot cooked meal. Then the worry would slide off her a little.

Patsy’s voice broke in on her thoughts. ‘Anyway,’ she said with a shy smile, ‘I want you to keep in practice because I want you to design and make my wedding dress.’

‘Your wedding dress!’

Patsy blushed as she said, ‘His name is Andrew Forrester and he is a teacher, like me, only he teaches maths in King Edward’s Grammar School in Aston. We were at college together, but didn’t want to start anything serious then. Anyway, we met again at a conference and decided we liked each other as much as we ever had. Andrew had moved to Birmingham for this job and we starting seeing each other. Just last night he asked me to marry him. We are choosing the ring on Saturday.’

‘Well, well you dark horse,’ Maria said. ‘All cut and
dried, it seems, and I have never caught even a glimpse of him.’

‘I know,’ Patsy said. ‘It was all a bit sudden. Mom and Sean didn’t really meet him to talk to till yesterday evening, though of course they have seen him when he has picked me up when we were going out.’

‘Have you a wedding date set?’

‘Not yet,’ Patsy said. ‘We’re not in a desperate rush, and really a lot depends on the housing situation. I could hardly move into the flat Andrew rents with two other teachers.’

‘Hardly,’ Maria agreed.

‘Enough about me now, Maria,’ Patsy said. ‘Are you going to give this dressmaking a go?’

Maria was undecided. Her self-esteem was at an all-time low. She felt she was a lousy wife and a lousy mother, and at that moment she didn’t think she was a good dressmaker either—all right for the family, but not to sell to other people. She couldn’t do it.

The light dimmed suddenly and Maria said, ‘Hang on, I’ll put some money in the meter.’

But there was no money. Her frantic fingers scrabbled on the shelf, and she was desperately telling herself the coins had been pushed to the back, or perhaps fallen out on the floor. They hadn’t, however, and in the end she faced the realisation that the money was gone. She would give no prizes for guessing who had taken it. Now she faced a choice. She could either sink to the floor in abject misery and despair, and howl like an animal, which she longed to do, or she could square her shoulders and fight.

She took a deep breath, went back into the room
and said, ‘OK, Patsy, what do we do about this and where on earth do I start?’

Martha, delighted that Maria was attempting to pull herself out of the mire, loaned her money to get her started, and minded Jack and Theresa while she went into the Bull Ring for the material. Adverts were put up in the newsagent’s shops just down the road from Maria’s, and the church hall at the abbey, and Patsy did a good job of passing the word around. Gradually the work came in. It was Communion dresses she was in demand for at first. Each one was unique as Maria would first ask what the mothers wanted and then do a few sketches before starting on the material. The trickle became a flood as other mothers saw and were often amazed by the finished articles.

Maria was happier than she could remember being in a long time. Turning raw material into something beautiful always soothed her; actually to be paid for it, so that she could put food on the table and buy coal for the fire, was wonderful. But she was careful. She hid the amount of food she bought, buying only so much a day. She never left money lying about again and carried her purse with her at all times. Barney knew nothing about it because the sewing was done in the bedroom and all sign of it tidied away by the evening, when he might be home for a few hours.

The first thing Maria did was to pay Martha back. The next was to pay off her rent arrears, so that by the time the new Queen Elizabeth was crowned in Westminster Abbey on 2 June, Maria was debt free. She felt it was a new era in her life too. She had felt her
self-confidence seeping back, and Martha thought it was marvellous to see her cheerful smile again and hear her laughter. She mentioned it to her when she arrived to see the Coronation on the television set Sean has bought to mark the occasion and they were making tea for everyone.

‘I do feel good,’ Maria said. ‘Wonderful, in fact. Can actually feel we have a future—me and the children, anyway. Oh, I know there is still Barney, but he is in so little these days I see him less than I would a lodger.’

‘He stays long enough to get you pregnant on a fairly regular basis,’ Martha commented drily.

‘How do you know?’ Maria said. ‘I’m not showing yet.’

‘I told you before there is a sort of bloom about you. How do you feel about it, anyway?’

‘I’m delighted,’ Maria said. ‘I don’t care how many children I have as long as I have the money to care for them properly, and now I have.’

There was a sudden roar from Sean. Martha said, ‘Come on, it must be starting. We wouldn’t want to miss anything. Can you manage that tray?’

The streets of London were gilded in gold and silver, bedecked with flowers and filled with cheering crowds of people lining the route the royal coach would take. Not even the unseasonable cold and drizzly rain could dampen their enthusiasm.

Watching them even stirred something in Maria, and she was able to feel a sense of pride in her adopted country, which was at that moment riding high. The Korean War, much to Martha’s relief, was drawing to
a close, Edmund Hillary had climbed Everest, the highest mountain in the world, just a day before, and now a new Elizabethan age was to be born. No wonder the nation was called
Great
Britain.

The young and very beautiful queen stepped into the abbey and the multitudinous noise of the crowds outside could still be heard. She had a diadem of precious stones on her head and a royal robe, which the commentator explained was of crimson velvet trimmed with gold lace. The long, heavy, exquisitely decorated train was carried by six maids of honour, all dressed in gowns of white and gold.

Then the robe and diadem were removed and the Queen stood alone, just clothed in a garment of plain linen to be anointed by the Archbishop, while music, said to be Handel’s
Messiah
, swelled about the church. Elizabeth knelt for the blessing and to receive the bracelets of sincerity and vision before approaching the throne. When the heavy crown was taken from the altar and placed upon her head, a collective sigh went around all those watching in Martha’s house.

The rest of the day was given up to merriment. Street parties had been organised, though the weather meant it took place in the abbey church hall. Even so, a fine time was had by all. Maria took her tired children home at a fairly decent hour, but she was told later the parties had gone on till the early hours.

Maria had to get back to work the next day. The First Communion day was in just over a fortnight and she had a couple of dresses to finish. But it had been quite lucrative and she wondered for a moment if she could
afford Irish dancing lessons for Sally. She knew the child longed to be able to go. Deirdre had been going to the lessons on Saturday afternoon at the abbey church hall for over a year now, and she demonstrated what she had learnt the previous day on Sunday after Mass. The girls would practise all week. Deirdre had been disappointed that Sally couldn’t join her, but Sally wasn’t stupid and had accepted it without whining when Maria said she hadn’t any spare money for dancing lessons.

Now there was, but Maria wouldn’t tell her just yet. She knew there was bound to be a lull in the dress orders once the Communions were over, and she wanted to know, before there were dancing lessons to pay for, just how much work she would pick up on a day-to-day basis.

However, Maria picked up work all through the summer, although some of it was repairs—replacing broken zips or altering dresses. There was also betterpaid work, like making outfits for weddings and special parties. Maria was very careful with the money she earned, knowing it could dry up at any time, and she hoarded it in a box she had hidden under the mattress.

Theresa joined her sister at the Abbey School in the autumn and Maria accepted the fact that now that Theresa wasn’t at hand to watch and play with her little brother, any major sewing would have to wait until the evening. She was sure, however, she could manage to go on some time yet, for the baby wasn’t due till the middle of December and she had money enough to last a few weeks without earning, until she was on her feet again.

Maria returned to the house one day in late November after leaving the children up at the school and was astounded to find the front door ajar. She normally went in the back way, but she pushed the front door open cautiously. Jack was clamouring to get out of his pushchair, so she unstrapped him and took him in her arms, putting her finger to her lips. Had someone broken in? But then why would they? She hadn’t anything worth stealing.

It must be Barney, she decided, and she called out, but there was no answer. There was no one in the living room or the kitchen. Holding Jack’s hand, she went up the stairs, laboriously because the baby lay heavily on her now.

There was no one in the bedroom either, but neither was there the sewing machine that had stood on the table by the bay window. Maria sank down on the bed. The bloody bastard had taken her sewing machine. By Christ, she’d not let him get away with it, not this time. That sewing machine made the difference to whether her children had enough to eat or not. She’d find out where the bloody selfish bugger had taken it and buy it back if she had to, she decided.

Barney had had a bad day. Solly at the pawnshop had given him bloody peanuts for the sodding sewing machine and he’d near bust a gut carrying it up the village. It was a ton weight and what he’d got for it went nowhere near paying off the debt at the bookie’s. Even MacKay had got shirty, and he’d laugh if he tried to give him so little. The only thing to do, as far as Barney could see, was put it on another horse and try
to increase it that way. There were races all afternoon. In that way he lost every penny piece he had.

He went to see MacKay that evening before the man sought him out. ‘Take what I owe out of my wages,’ he pleaded.

‘You ain’t got no wages,’ MacKay told him. ‘Not this week, anyroad. You’ve taken it already in advances and so far it would take nearly three weeks’ wages to clear that debt.’

‘I know…‘

‘You know nowt, mate,’ MacKay said. ‘Face it, you’re just a loser. A piss artist. Get out of my sight!’

‘You mean—’

‘I mean you are sacked, fired, finished. I don’t want to see you ever again.’

Barney stumbled from the man’s office. He hadn’t even the money for the bus fare and he set off to walk home. When he reached the Norton, he went inside.

‘Give us a pint George and put it on the slate.’

George shook his head. ‘Sorry, you already owe too much.’

‘Just a bloody pint.’

‘I’m running a business here, not a bleeding charity,’ George said. ‘Pay up or sling your hook.’

With no option but to leave, Barney stood outside the pub, undecided what to do. Jesus, how he needed a drink. The only way he could see of getting any money was from Maria. Oh, he knew she would moan, complain, cry and say she had none, but if she knew what was good for her she would make no fuss about it.

Maria had just put the children to bed and washed
up the dinner dishes when Barney came to the door. She was surprised to see him so early and comparatively sober, but she was ready for him.

Barely was he properly through the door, and before her courage could fail her, she said, ‘What have you done with the sewing machine?’

‘What you on about?’

‘You know,’ Maria spat out. ‘You’ve taken that sewing machine. It had to be you.’

‘Yeah, I needed the money. So what?’

‘It belonged to me.’

‘No, it bloody didn’t. I paid for it,’ Barney said. ‘Anyway, it’s no bleeding use and I needed the cash. And now I need more, so what you got in that purse?’

‘What I have is already accounted for and you won’t get a penny piece from me.’

‘We’ll see about that, you cocky bitch,’ Barney said, making a grab for her.

Suddenly, something snapped in Maria. She saw in her mind’s eye how it had been just a few months before, the half starving and shivering children crying with discomfort and pain she could do nothing to ease. Never ever, while there was breath in her body, would she go back to that situation.