Stay as Sweet as You Are (2 page)

Her hand touching her cheek, Lucy could feel the tears well up in her eyes and their warmth as they rolled down her cheeks. It was so unfair, she just had to speak out. ‘It’s not my fault, it’s you what told lies. Half an hour yer said, and now it’s gone ten o’clock.’

‘Don’t you dare answer me back. And what I do has got
nothing to do with you. Ye’re big and ugly enough to see yerself to bed, and I’ll make yer sorry yer didn’t.’

Neither of them had heard the front door open or knew that Bob was standing in the hall listening. It was only when Ruby reached out to give Lucy a hiding that he made his presence known. ‘Touch her and yer’ll be out in that street on yer backside before yer know what’s hit yer.’ He put his arm across his daughter’s shoulders and bent to kiss her hair. ‘Don’t cry, pet, you just take yerself off to bed while I have a word with yer mam.’

Lucy shivered. ‘I’m cold and thirsty, Dad, could I have a hot drink, please?’

‘I’ll bring yer one up when yer mam decides a man needs a meal after a day’s work. You poppy off and I’ll bring yer a cup of tea in a minute.’

After Lucy had fled without a word or a glance, Ruby’s face and manner changed as if someone had waved a magic wand. In the place of anger, there was a smile. ‘She’s making a mountain out of a molehill, the silly thing. I was busy talking in me mate’s house and didn’t realise the time. But I told Lucy to go to bed before I went out, and she should have done as she was told. Still, there’s no harm done.’ She made a move towards the kitchen. ‘I’ll see to yer supper, it won’t take five minutes.’

Bob put his cap on the sideboard. ‘You stay right where yer are until we get a few things straight.’ He didn’t speak for a while as he took stock of the woman he’d married fifteen years ago. She’d been nineteen then, and as pretty as a picture. Nice slim figure, mousy-coloured curly hair, laughing hazel eyes and a peaches and cream complexion. The woman he was facing now bore no resemblance to that happy-go-lucky girl. The mousy-coloured hair was bleached to a horrible pale yellow, the hazel eyes were hard and calculating and Ruby’s face was caked with make-up. She looked like a brazen, cheap tart, and her actions matched her looks. ‘Where have yer been from half-seven until now?’

‘I told yer, I was in me mate’s and the time just seemed to fly over.’

‘Don’t you lie to me!’ Bob’s voice was raised in anger. ‘You must take me for a right bloody fool. I can smell the drink on yer from here, and it’s not just one glass yer’ve had – yer’ve had a bellyful. And while ye’re out enjoying yerself, yer leave an eleven-year-old girl on her own in the house. And I’ll bet that yer never gave her one thought as yer sat boozing with yer cronies. What sort of a mother are yer? In fact, what sort of a wife are yer?’

Ruby tried to wheedle her way out of it. ‘It’s the first time it’s happened, Bob, so don’t get in a temper. I’ll see to yer supper now and promise it won’t happen again.’

‘Ye’re not getting away with it that easy, so you just stay right where yer are. I should have put a halt to yer gallop years ago, before yer started going off the rails. I should have done it for Lucy’s sake because she deserves a better mother than you. She’s a good kid and I’m proud of her. But I can see now that she gets more hidings off you than she does hugs or kisses. And I blame meself for that.’ He crossed the room and, putting his hands on his wife’s shoulders, he turned her around to face the mirror hanging over the fireplace. ‘Take a good look at yerself, Ruby, and see yerself as others see yer. Peroxide blonde, thick cheap make-up, a face as hard as nails and smelling like a brewery.’ He dropped his hands and let out a deep sigh. ‘You are not the woman I married, but so help me, I’m stuck with yer. And so is our daughter.’

Ruby rounded on him. ‘Who the hell d’yer think yer are, talking to me like that? Just because I like to get a bit of enjoyment out of life, instead of being bleedin’ miserable, like you. You might be happy with work, bed, the wireless and a pint on a Saturday, but it’s not my idea of a good life. I’ve no intention of being the dutiful wife, who sits knitting or darning every night, so yer can get that out of yer head. Life is short and I intend to get the best out of it while I’m still able.’

He gripped her arm and held it tight. ‘Frankly, Ruby, I couldn’t care less what yer do. If yer want to drink yerself to death and get a name like a mad dog, then go ahead. But while I am the one working and handing my hard-earned money over to yer, I expect the house to be kept clean and meals on the table on time. I also expect me daughter to be dressed decent and to be treated with kindness and affection. I do not want her to be doing the work which you should be doing, or being ordered around like a skivvy.’ His grip tightened. ‘And if I ever find yer’ve raised yer hand to her in anger, then heaven help yer.’ He pushed her away as though in disgust. ‘Make a pot of tea so I can take a cup up to Lucy before she goes to sleep.’

Ruby glared at him. This was all that little faggot’s fault, and by God she’d pay for it tomorrow. There was no fear of Bob finding out, Lucy would be too scared to tell him.

Her husband watched her face and could almost read her mind. ‘Don’t for one moment think of taking yer spite out on her tomorrow, thinking she’ll be too frightened to tell me. ’Cos from now on I’ll be taking a very keen interest in me daughter’s welfare. Lay a finger on her and I’ll know about it.’ He waited until his wife was at the kitchen door before adding, ‘Oh, yer’ll be five bob down in yer money this week. I’m taking Lucy to town on Saturday to buy her something decent to wear. She’s the prettiest girl in the street but always looks like an unwanted orphan. But from today there’s going to be big changes around here, whether yer like it or not. So yer’d better start getting used to being a housewife and mother again. Yer don’t have to worry about being a wife to me, yer stopped being that years ago. And if ye’re looking for anyone to lay the blame on for all this, look no further than yerself.’

Aggie McBride was passing the Mellors’ house on her way back from the pub, and when she heard raised voices she felt no guilt in standing outside the window and listening. She
kept nodding her head when Bob spoke, and muttered, ‘It’s about time yer came to yer senses, Bob Mellor. That’s right, lad, you tell her. Ye’re about five years too late, like, but as they say, it’s better late than never.’

She ambled on her way, chuckling to herself. She felt happier now she’d heard the queer one get her comeuppance, and when she got home she’d go over every word she heard as she sat in her rocking chair supping her stout.

Ruby was in a foul temper the next morning. Her head was splitting, what with having too much to drink and then the row with Bob. There was malice in her eyes as she dropped the plate of toast in front of her daughter. ‘Get that down yer and hurry up or yer’ll be late for school.’

Lucy looked down at the burnt bread and knew this was part of her punishment. She picked up a slice and bit into it. Then, in a quiet voice, asked, ‘Can’t I have some butter on it, please, Mam?’

Ruby mimicked her daughter’s voice. ‘“Can’t I have some butter on it?”’ She closed the living-room door quietly. Bob didn’t get up until ten o’clock when he was on the afternoon shift, and for all she knew he could be lying awake listening. So she kept her voice low. ‘Yer’ll be getting dry toast every morning from now on, seeing as yer dad is docking me money so he can buy yer some fancy clothes.’

Lucy raised her face and stared directly into her mother’s eyes. What she saw there caused her to turn away in distress, thinking, she doesn’t even like me, never mind love me. ‘I never asked me dad to buy me anything, Mam, I wouldn’t do that.’ She picked up her plate and got to her feet. ‘I’ll make meself a round of bread and jam because I’ll be starving if I don’t have anything to eat.’

Ruby watched her daughter go into the kitchen before lighting a cigarette. Inhaling deeply, and with a sneer on her face, she leaned against the door-jamb. ‘Yer dad won’t always be here, just remember that.’

Instinct told Lucy she would be well advised to get out of the house as quick as possible and away from trouble. She could eat the bread on her way to school. So without a word, she passed her mother, took her coat from the hallstand and let herself out of the front door. She stood for a moment with the bread in her mouth while she slipped her arms into her sleeves, then began to walk up the street.

Aggie McBride was standing on her front step, her shawl around her shoulders. She’d been waiting for Lucy to make sure the child hadn’t come to any harm. She was a kindly soul, was Aggie, with steel-grey hair combed back off her face and plaited into a bun at the nape of her neck. She wore false teeth when she was going out, but this morning she’d decided to give her gums a rest.

‘Were yer late getting up, queen?’ Aggie nodded at the bread. ‘No time for a proper breakfast?’

‘Just a bit late, Mrs Aggie, but I don’t think I’ll be late for school.’

‘Yer didn’t get into trouble last night, did yer? I heard yer mam and dad rowing when I passed on me way back from the pub. I hope she didn’t try and lay the blame at your door?’

Lucy shook her head. No matter what her mother did, she would never talk about her to anyone. After all, she was still her mother. ‘I went straight to bed and me dad brought me a nice hot cup of tea up.’

‘That’s good, queen.’ Aggie put her hand in the large pocket of her wrap-around pinny and brought out a rosy red apple. ‘Here yer are, girl, I kept this specially for you.’

When Lucy’s face lit up it was as though the sun had come out. ‘Oh, thank you, Mrs Aggie, I’ll eat it at playtime.’ She rubbed the apple on the sleeve of her coat and held it up to the old lady. ‘Look how shiny it is – I can see me face in it.’

Aggie chuckled. ‘I bet the apple thinks there’s an angel looking at it. Now, run along, queen, or yer’ll be getting the cane.’

Lucy took to her heels, shouting over her shoulder, ‘Ta-ra, Mrs Aggie.’

Aggie was waving to her when she heard the sound she’d been waiting for. She turned her head to see her next-door-but-one neighbour stepping into the street. Irene Pollard had a part-time cleaning job in the corner pub and she left the house every morning dead on ten minutes to nine. The Pollards lived next door to the Mellors, and Aggie was eager to know if Irene had heard the rumpus.

‘Good morning, Aggie! What are yer waiting for – better days?’

‘Irene, I had me better days fifty years ago, and, by God, I made the most of them. All I’ve got left now is to stick me nose into other people’s business – which brings me to the reason for standing on me step this time of the morning, getting me bleedin’ death of cold.’ She gave a toothless smile. ‘Did yer hear the carry-on at the Mellors’ last night?’

‘Couldn’t help it, Aggie. They were shouting so loud we could hear every word. Yer know how thin the walls are, yer can’t sneeze without the whole street knowing.’ Irene Pollard was a bonny woman, with plenty of flesh on her bones. She had auburn hair, brown eyes, a pretty round face and a good sense of humour, and her husband, George, was a riot when he’d had a few drinks on a Saturday. They had two sons, Jack fourteen, and Greg, twelve, and were well liked in the street. If anyone needed a helping hand, it was the Pollards’ door they knocked at. ‘I don’t know what started the row, but Bob certainly had a go at Ruby. She must have gone too far this time because Bob puts up with a lot from her. As George said, she’s had it coming for years now, the brazen hussy.’

‘I’ll tell yer what started it.’ Aggie quickly recounted what had happened. ‘The poor kid was terrified, all alone that time of night in a house in pitch darkness.’

Irene tutted as she shook her head. ‘She doesn’t deserve that child. I always wanted a girl but it wasn’t to be. How is it that someone like Ruby Mellor has a beautiful girl that she
treats like dirt, and me, who was longing for a daughter, can’t have one? I love me two boys, yer know that, and having a girl wouldn’t have made any difference to the love I have for them. It’s just that a girl is a mate to her mother when she grows up, someone to share things with. If Lucy was mine, she’d get as much love off me, and George and the boys, as she gets hidings off her mother. Many’s the time the boys have been upset when they’ve heard her being belted. When they were younger they used to say she was like a fairy, with her being so pretty and dainty.’

Aggie sighed. ‘Well, let’s hope that Bob sticks to his guns and makes that wife of his toe the line. He must rue the day he ever set eyes on her.’

‘Only time will tell, Aggie, only time will tell. But I think in future, when Bob’s at work, and I hear any shenanigans from her, I’ll poke me nose in.’ Irene smiled. ‘I’m bigger than her and one swipe from me would knock her into the middle of next week.’

‘Give me a knock first, girl, ’cos I wouldn’t want to miss that for the world.’

‘I’ll sell tickets, shall I, Aggie?’ Irene started to walk away. ‘If I don’t get a move on I’ll be getting me cards. I’ll see yer tonight, sunshine, ta-ra for now.’

By dinnertime, the story had gone the rounds of the street. And when Ruby left the house to go to the shops, she could sense the hostility of the women who were standing at their doors talking to their neighbours. With their eyes boring into her, she tossed her head and sauntered past them, her jaunty step saying she didn’t give a damn what they thought. And she didn’t either. It was a pity the poor buggers had nothing better to do than stand gossiping. The only time they seemed to enjoy themselves was when two women got into an argument over their kids. Then the whole street would be out watching and shouting encouragement as the two women belted hell out of each other. And, of course, there was
always a stir when a football was kicked through a window and none of the boys would own up to being the culprit.

There was a sarcastic smile on Ruby’s face as she neared the shops. If the truth were known, there wasn’t a woman in the street who wouldn’t change places with her, given the chance. They just didn’t have the guts. Then she had a thought that took the smile from her face. If she was going to be five shillings down in her housekeeping it would mean she’d be skint all the time. She wouldn’t be able to keep up with her friends, splashing out on drinks and handing cigarettes around. She’d be like a poor relation and that idea didn’t appeal to her one little bit. The truth was, if she had no money, she’d soon lose her friends.