Polly's Pride (42 page)

‘Don’t pander to him,’ she stormed after one such outing. ‘Once Murdoch has his feet under our table, he might never take them out. And I want him out of here!’

‘He’s your da,’ Charlie softly reminded her. ‘I thought you’d promised to give him a chance? He hasn’t had a drink for seven days now. Perhaps he’ll make it this time.’

Polly clenched her fists, restraining her fury with difficulty. ‘Ye can’t believe a word he says. The man destroyed me mother’s life. D’you want me to put out the welcome flags? Say I love him? Well, I don’t.’

Charlie shook his head. ‘I can understand how you must feel. But it might help if you mebbe let bygones be bygones. Let the past be forgotten.’

Polly made a sound half under her breath that Charlie thought just as well he hadn’t quite heard. Then she grabbed a loaf of bread and started to hack it roughly into pieces. He gently took the knife from her hands. ‘Shall I do that so you don’t hurt yerself, or even the bread? You put the kettle on, love.’ A thought struck him. ‘Where’s he sleeping - with young Benny?’

‘No, he is not. For the first time in his life Benny has a bedroom to himself. I couldn’t deny him that pleasure. Lucy has moved in with me.’

There was the slightest pause before he went on. ‘I see. Well, that’s all right for now, I suppose. But Benny will have to share a room with him eventually, after we’re wed. I’m sure he won’t mind.

Polly stared at him wide-eyed. ‘By the saints above, Da had better not still be with us by the time we marry! Sweet Mary and Joseph, aren’t I tearing me hair out already?’ She couldn’t believe Charlie was even saying such things. Why couldn’t he see that Murdoch had ruined everything? Tears of self-pity sprang to her eyes. ‘I wanted to have some time on my own with my family about me. Now it’s all gone wrong. Sure and I’ll have him driven away in the paddy-wagon if he steps out of line just once.’ She shook the knife so hard a great blob of margarine landed on the stone-flagged floor, and Charlie took that off her too.

‘Whatever you say, Polly.’ It seemed better to agree with her right now.

Big Flo and her fellow matriarchs were still working at the carpet warehouse, and Polly kept herself equally busy, either helping with the sewing, organising the next Sale Day, searching out more stock, or checking on Lucy at the hand cart on Oldham Street. It all added up to a considerable work-load but she loved it and wouldn’t have had it any other way. Once she had more money coming in, then she could afford to take on extra staff and life would get easier. For now she had to attempt to be in three, if not four, places at once. The one benefit was that the more she worked, the less time she had to spend in the house with her father.

Big Flo informed Polly, in her usual blunt manner, that although she was in favour of doing one’s duty and honouring one’s father and mother, Polly would do herself no favours by harbouring a drunkard in the house. ‘Beware the demon drink, that’s what we Methodists believe.’

Perversely, this made Polly jump to Murdoch’s defence. ‘He says he’s reformed, that he’ll never touch another drop. I’ve agreed to give him a chance.’

‘Time will tell,’ Big Flo sagely remarked.

Unfortunately Polly’s lack of faith in her father was proved to be justified. She came to dread arriving home, despite her pride and joy in her new home, for she never knew what might be waiting for her. If she was lucky he was senseless, and she only had the bottles and mess to clear up. On other days, she found he’d generously invited some of his drinking pals round, irritating the neighbours with a noisy shindig the like of which they’d never before witnessed. On one notable occasion she found every cup and plate in her tiny kitchen smashed, together with two wooden chairs. The result apparently of a drunken brawl. Vomit and blood streaked the walls and the stink of the place almost made Polly want to throw up herself. She screamed at him, letting all her pent-up emotion and rage soar to the surface.

‘Will you get out of my house this minute! Get out!’

This time there was no maudlin response, no begging for her to understand or promise to be good. Instead he pushed her roughly out of his way, knocking her back against the wall. ‘Shut your blathering and make me some tea. I’ll not be told what to drink, or which friends I might invite home by me own daughter,’ he informed her, arrogant in his drunken state.

Polly could see the danger signals in his eyes, recognise the spark of stubbornness that indicated the depth of his addiction, but she stood up to him, as she always had done.

‘This is my house. I pay the
 
rent. I haven’t worked hard all these years to have you mess it up for me.’ Had she not been so filled with rage, she would have wept at the utter destruction around her. Any moment now Benny or Lucy might walk in. What would they think she had brought them to? Jumping from the frying pan into the fire evidently. Would she never be free?

Murdoch was still talking, speech slurred and well-nigh incoherent, but louder in consequence as if to compensate. ‘Aren’t I your bleshed father? A man you should honour. Don’t you forget that shmall fact, Mary Ann. I’ve had a hard life, to be shure, but I’ve allus done me best by you.’

‘You’ve never given a thought to anyone but yourself.’

He wagged a finger furiously at her, inches from her face. ‘I’m here to stay and there’s not a damned thing you can do about it.’

Charlie arrived an hour later to find Polly weeping over her wrecked kitchen. Realising what had occurred, his heart filled with pity for her. He longed
to
put all her problems right, to make her life sweet and fresh and new. Surely he could do that for her.

On seeing Charlie she began to storm and rage, to tell him what he could plainly see with his own eyes. He waited till she ran out of breath then said in his quietest voice, ‘I want to look after you, Polly. To be a part of this family. Isn’t it time we set a date?’

Looking into his sorrowful face, all the despair and temper drained out of her and Polly wrapped her arms about him, resting her head against his chest.

‘Aw, you see how the old drunken sot has come between us already.’
 

‘We could be wed in three weeks or so, if you’ve a mind. Wouldn’t that be grand?’

Sadly, the presence of her father had only confirmed Polly’s determination to set her own life in order first. She pulled away from him, and struggled to explain some of this to Charlie. ‘Sure and I’d marry you tomorrow, m’darlin’, but besides not wanting to land you with the problem of Da, I must give me children time to get used to the idea, used to a life free from Joshua breathing down their necks. Lucy will be able to invite her young man home for tea, which is how things should be done. Benny can begin to feel strong and secure again. He’s thrilled to have a bit of a job at the warehouse, but before you know it he’ll be leaving school, then he’ll find himself proper work and a young lady I shouldn’t wonder, and I’ll have lost him.’

Charlie looked startled, as well he might by this catalogue of events still some time in the future. ‘What has all of that to do with us?’

‘Don’t we need time to get to know each other a bit better first?’ Can you not understand that? Just let me get rid of the old man, and me children established, and then I’ll put it to them about you and me.’

‘They’re not daft, either of them. They know we mean to wed. And I don’t mind about your da, really I don’t. He’ll no doubt take himself off one morning as suddenly as he came.’

‘I wish I could believe that.’ Charlie saw again the dark clouds gathering in her greeny-grey eyes at the very notion of Murdoch’s becoming a permanent fixture.

‘We can’t keep letting other people dictate our lives for us, Polly. I want you for my wife.’

But she refused to discuss the matter further. She felt too tired from the disturbed nights of hearing her father come home the worse for drink; exhausted from lying awake worrying about her future with him; worrying over Joshua; the commitments she had taken on; even the children. So instead she simply kissed Charlie in an absent-minded fashion, to cheer him even as she gave her refusal. ‘And so I will be. Just give me a wee while to sort this whole mess out.’

The kiss didn’t seem to have done its work for he was frowning down at her, looking disappointed and hurt. Then he voiced the worry that had niggled at the back of his mind for weeks. ‘Don’t you think it mighty odd that Murdoch should appear so unexpectedly, out of the blue like that? How d’you reckon he found your address?’

Polly swept up the last of the broken shards of crockery and dumped them in the bin. She was hardly listening, certainly not taking in the implications of his words. As she reached for a cloth to start cleaning the mess off her newly painted walls, she was concerned only with the agonies of daily life with her despised parent.

‘Don’t you see, this could all have been planned?’ Charlie persisted. ‘It’s Joshua who’s set this up. And if you let the wedding be put off, then he’ll have won.’

For once, Polly refused to place the blame upon her brother-in-law, being far too determined to cast her own father as the villain of the piece. As she sloshed soapy water into a bucket, her words came out all tight and clipped. ‘I’ve no time for the fuss of a wedding just now. Haven’t I the warehouse to see to, as well as everything else? I’ve to work even harder to pay all this rent I’ve taken on. So will you stop harassing me, for pity’s sake!’

He stepped away from her. ‘Drat your stubbornness, Polly. You’re a fool to yourself at times.’

They both fell silent, hot and bothered by the path down which their heated words had led them. Charlie glowered and sulked; Polly, half glancing at his face, recognised the depth of his hurt and anger by the hard set of his jaw. Oh, but wasn’t it her and Matthew all over again? Why couldn’t a man ever understand that sometimes you had to trust to instinct, and hope that time would resolve matters? She felt utterly devastated, stretched to the limits of her endurance, as if she’d been put on a rack. Her life seemed to consist of walking on tightropes, desperately trying to keep everyone happy.

And where was the hurry anyway? She felt quite secure in his love for her, certain he would wait, no matter how long. She knew that Charlie needed her, that he would always be here by her side. There really wasn’t any need for her to worry about him. But his next words challenged even this long-cherished belief.

‘I have to go away on a bit of business,’ he suddenly announced, voice strangely cool and distant. ‘Perhaps it’s no bad thing. It’ll give us both time to think.’

She stared at him. ‘Think? About what?’

‘About us. About how important we are to each other.’

Polly fell silent, struggling to absorb the message he was giving her and not much caring for it. ‘Where are you going exactly? What kind of business?’ Fear was closing her throat and she could hardly believe what she was hearing.

‘Liverpool. There’s a bloke I need to see.’

‘Why would you have to go to Liverpool?’ It might have been the ends of the earth.

‘I’ve told you, a bit of business has come my way. You don’t mind?’

‘Ach, why would I mind? Its no business of mine what you do.’ And she turned away, dipped the scrubbing brush in the soapy water and began to scrub.

It was their first real quarrel and it ended with Charlie marching away and Polly bursting into tears.

Lucy hugged herself with delight. Life was so much easier now that she wasn’t glancing over her shoulder half the time. With a home of their own, Uncle Joshua couldn’t watch her every move as he had before.

Tom continued to take her regularly to the Picture-drome or to the Palais. Sometimes they went to Joe Taylor’s dance hall or even as far as Belle Vue. Nothing was too good for her, so far as Torn was concerned. And no longer did she have to hide the scarlet dress and shoes behind the lavatory, but was able to walk out in them bravely, knowing that although her mother would also probably disapprove, she was too absorbed in her business, and with the unexpected arrival of Murdoch, to notice what her daughter got up to.

Lucy could meet Tom whenever and wherever she wished. There were many days when he didn’t have much money at all, and they’d have to be content with a walk by the canal or a tram ride. But it didn’t matter to Lucy, so long as they could be together. Life was sweet.

Polly was missing Charlie more than she’d thought possible. He’d been away for two whole weeks and she couldn’t understand what was taking him so long. It frightened her that they’d parted on a quarrel. Was he staying away deliberately? Would he perhaps find himself another woman, one without the encumbrance of a drunken father and two youngsters hell-bent on growing up too fast?

In truth, if it hadn’t been for the fact that she was kept so busy she might have felt a good deal worse. Improved relations with her mother-in-law helped and the two women would often sit and eat their sandwiches together at dinner time, chatting over the morning’s work and whatever the next task of the afternoon would be. Without Big Flo’s sensible, down-to-earth good humour, Polly felt she might not have survived Charlie’s absence half so well.

‘And how’s your dad shaping up?’ Big Flo asked. ‘Still keeping off the bottle, is he?’

‘He’s been sober for a whole week, which is a record so far.’

‘He’ll have to join our Band of Hope or the Reccabites. They’ll help keep him on the straight and narrow. Trust in the Lord, that’s what I say,’ which made Polly giggle. The thought of her father joining a non-conformist temperance organisation was beyond even her hopes.