The Chainmakers (3 page)

'Well, we can ask him when he comes,' Anna responded patiently, 'But I think he wants to paint me, not just sketch, and anyway he probably wants a different sort of background, I don't know.'

'But how shall we manage for the washing? You know Saturday is our day for the copper and I can't manage to do it...'

'Mother,' Anna said sharply, her patience wearing thin, 'I have told you already Ma Smithson has said she will do it for a shilling, I knew she would...'

'Paying out a whole shilling for someone else to do our washing when I've got a daughter perfectly capable...'

'I can't be in two places at once. And the shilling will be paid from what I earn at Mr. Nicholsons. Do try to understand...'

'Understand? I understand you won't be here this Saturday, and I've no shilling to pay Ma Smithson this week and neither have you I'll warrant.'

'I've already thought of that, I'm going to wash Friday night, after Mrs. Ketts has finished. She says she'll be done by four o'clock and has promised she'll fill the copper again for me, and make up the fire if you let her have the gledes when she calls. You can give her the washing and she will put it in so it will be ready for me to dolly when I get home from work. I'll have to iron on Sunday when I get home.'

'Iron on a Sunday? Not in my house!'

Anna sighed and got to her feet. 'Then I'll have to do it on Monday night, won't I?' She was dejected. Her wonderful news was not producing the hoped for effect.

Her mother was about to raise some other objection, but to Anna's relief the back door opened and her brother Will arrived with his seven year old son Billy.

'Just called in with young Billy Mom... 'Ello... What's to do then?' Will stopped at the unfamiliar sight of his father home from work early, and wearing a collar above his flannelette shirt.

'We're waiting on a gentleman, wants to sketch our Anna,' his mother explained, and Anna was heartened to detect a hint of pride in her mother's voice. She turned to Will eagerly.

'Mr. Nicholson... you remember Will, he sketched me before... when I was little. He's dead now, but his son wants to paint me grown, and he's offering ten shillings for me to go and sit at his place at Edgbaston. Three hours Saturday afternoon and three hours Sunday.'

'Well I'm blowed! Theer's a bit o'luck!' Will's smile broadened in his handsome face. 'Yo' mek the most on it while yer can our kid!' Unlike Anna, he spoke with a broad Black Country dialect, which rolled off his tongue with relish as he turned to his son. ''Ow about that our Billy? Yer Auntie Anna's gunna be rich!'

'So am I!' Billy responded immediately. 'When I grow up I'm gunna be rich as anythin'!'

'Start now then,' Anna said quickly, fishing in her pocket and pulling out two pennies. 'Run to Mrs. Skitt's on the corner and get me a penny lump of Hudson's soap and a ha'penny blue. With the other ha'penny you can get a bag of boilers for yourself.'

'A bag o' bilers!' Billy's face was a picture.

'Yes, from your rich Auntie, go along now... walk, don't run...'

They all laughed as Billy sped away down the ginnel which ran between their house, number twenty two Dawkins Street, and number twenty four next door. Will said uncertainly, 'Do yo' want me to go? I might be in the way like...'

'Of course not,' Anna said quickly.

'Tell yer what... when 'e comes I'll nip in the parlour till e's gone...'

'If you like... there certainly isn't much room in here...'

'It won't tek long,' said George Gibson rather aggressively. 'I just 'ave to make sure what's what, that he's all above board like. Let him know he don't have everything his own way for the askin'. And when he's gone we'll go for a pint or two our Will, I'm as dry as a lime burner's clog.'

'Alright Dad, but I can only 'ave one. Got to get back.' Will was not about to be drawn into a heavy drinking session with his father. One drunkard in the family was quite enough.

Ten minutes later the visit was over and the two men were on their way to the Sandley Arms, Will asserting once again that he could not stay long as he had to get Billy home. Robert Nicholson had charmed George and Sarah Gibson with his honest good looks and impeccable manners, and had left the small house having agreed everything within minutes. Will, listening behind the parlour door, had been astonished to hear his father almost grovelling in his efforts to please, and his mother's objections had disappeared as if by magic. As they entered the Sandley Arms Will remarked drily, 'I noticed the way yo' told him what was what!'

'Well, I dae need to lay it on thick,' said George. 'Yo' can always tell a gentleman. Anyway, yo' need talk... runnin' 'ome after one drink to report to Mary...'

'I do' need to report Dad,' Will retorted sharply. 'I 'appen to like my time at 'ome, and I've more sense than spend all my 'ard earned wages in the pub.'

They caught the barman's eye and George ordered two pints and then turned to his son. 'Yo' know what they say lad', he admonished, searching through the change in his pocket, 'Never be 'ooman licked.'

Will laughed. 'I ay 'ooman licked Dad, and if I remember right they say "Never let yer navel get too close to yer backbone" an' all. If yo' do' save a bit an' stop spendin' so much in 'ere, yer'll find yer navel a bit close to yer backbone in a few years. You 'm not gettin' any younger.' He picked up his pint and took a deep swallow, and George snorted. His son, he thought, had become a real nancy boy since he got married.

~

As she lay in her narrow bed that night Anna's mind was full of the adventure which promised for the weekend. She had never been further than Dudley, her few excursions being confined to the Chapel outing on anniversary day, and an occasional Sunday trip to the Clent hills with Clancy. She thought again of Robert Nicholson, and wondered what he had thought of her home. That they were living on the breadline would be immediately obvious to him or anyone else.

They had always managed somehow when Will was around. His contribution to the family budget had made a big difference, and he would often bring home some small treat, perhaps a cake or some boiled sweets made by a neighbour and sold at their front doorway. When Will had married his Mary and moved into the next street, number twenty two had become cheerless and quiet, except for the times when George Gibson got really drunk and raised the neighbourhood, which seemed to be happening with increasing frequency.

The poverty of their existence was foremost in Anna's mind as she lay in bed, hugging a hot brick wrapped in an old piece of blanket. As she recalled Robert Nicholson's visit she consoled herself with the thought that everything had been as spotless as she could make it. She was proud of the shining blackleaded firegrate and its brass oven knob, carefully polished twice a week, and the cheerful home made rag rug on the hearth. She tried to imagine what the Nicholson house would be like, and decided it must be grand if he could afford to pay ten shillings every week for someone to sit around and be painted.

I wonder what Clancy will think, she mused. There had been no opportunity to tell him about the offer and she suddenly realised he might not like the idea. It would mean they would not be able to see each other for a while, and she would miss him. But after all, she told herself as she drifted into sleep... ten shillings is ten shillings...

It seemed only a moment later that she was woken by a noise in the street outside.

'Oh no, not again!' Anna quickly roused herself and threw her shawl over her flannel nightgown. She hurried downstairs, only stopping to say, 'It's alright, it's only Dad,' as her mother opened her bedroom door.

In the street the situation was worse than usual. Her father, stupefied with drink, had started a fight with Bert Castle, a puddler who lived a few doors down. Bert usually did not rise to the bait, but tonight he had been drinking heavily himself and was almost as far gone as George Gibson. The two men were brawling and shouting, but doing little damage due to the inability of either of them to land a punch. Anna ran across to her father and caught at his arm.

'Come away now Dad, come away...'

'I'll flatten the bugger!...' George Gibson yelled, slurring his words and making a wild sweep at Bert. He put down his head and ran forwards, butting Bert in the stomach and sending him flying. The momentum carried George onwards, and he crashed into the side of the house just as Bert's wife came out of her front door.

'What on earth's to do?' Her stony gaze took in her husband attempting to get up on the pavement opposite, and then George Gibson, who had slid down the wall and now lay on his back, waving his arms like a stranded beetle. She turned her fury on Anna.

'Your father again Anna Gibson! 'E's a disgrace to the street!' She crossed to Bert and helped him up. ''E should be ashamed, gettin' our Bert drunk!'

'I don't suppose Dad had to hold his nose and pour it down his throat,' Anna countered crossly. She tried to help George to his feet but he had collapsed into a stupor and it was impossible to lift him.

'Get 'im off the pavement, I don't want 'im spendin' the night outside my front door,' Bert's wife said angrily, as she cajoled and pushed Bert across the road and into the house. 'Your Ma need put on airs an' graces, Anna Gibson, married to a drunk like 'im!'

'No need to be like that Millie... I'll move him as quick as I can, I'll have to fetch our Will.'

Anna sighed. It was no use trying to wake her father once he drifted off like this. She heard Millie's front door slam as she hurried down the street, trying not to notice the neighbours who had come out onto their front doorsteps or peered down from bedroom windows. The embarrassment was becoming too much, she thought, but there was little either she or her mother could do about it.

Reaching Will's house, she knocked gently. It was a prearranged knock which signalled to Will that she needed help with their father. Within a couple of minutes the small front door opened and Will emerged, pulling on his jacket and cap.

'What's to do this time?' he grumbled, 'I'd just gone off to sleep...'

'He's on the pavement outside Bert Castle's. Fighting they were. I can't wake him.'

Five minutes later Will and Anna had managed to get George Gibson into the small back room. He was a dead weight and Will gasped as he lowered him gently to the floor.

'There.' He held his father up so that Anna could remove his jacket, and then lowered him again to rest on the rag rug in front of the fire. 'That's as far as 'e's goin' tonight. We'll never get 'im up the stairs.' He glanced up at Anna as he started to undo George Gibson's boots. 'Yo' shouldn't come out in your nightgown Anna. It ay decent for one thing, an' yo'll catch yer death for another.'

'I had my shawl on. An' Millie Castle wanted 'im moved quick...'

'Let 'er wait.' Will said shortly, 'An' let 'im wait an' all.' He looked down at his father, a mixture of anger and disgust on his face. 'Better get a bucket our Anna, in case 'e wakes up took short. 'E'd never make it to the yard.'

Anna nodded and fetched the floor bucket from outside the back door. She turned a worried face to Will.

'What about Saturday night Will? When I'm not here? Mom won't be able to manage...'

Will grunted as he pulled off George Gibson's heavy boots. 'Do' worry our kid. I'll mek sure 'e's safe inside on Saturday, even if I 'ave to yank 'im out the pub!'

'And Mom...? You'll...'

'Do' worry I said!' Will gave her a wink. 'I'll mek sure they'm both safe an' sound.'

He stood up and made his way to the back door, his big frame almost filling the space as Anna opened it. On an impulse Anna reached up and planted a kiss on his cheek.