The Rainbow Years (8 page)
Authors: Rita Bradshaw
‘Aye, and so do we, don’t we, Harriet?’
Eva bounced her head conspiratorially at her sister but Harriet said nothing. She never did. She just liked to stand back and watch the fun.
‘Your mam wasn’t married when you were born,’ Eva went on. ‘Everyone knows that. Went with anyone, she did. And so that makes you a . . .’
Eva stopped short of saying the word but it hovered in the air between them. Bastard. She’d flung it in Amy’s face some months before when she had first realised the significance of what it meant, but after the ensuing fight with Amy, when her brothers had told their mother what she had said, Eva had received the first and only spanking of her life. Her mother had warned her then that if she ever heard her say the word again she wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week.
It was after the pandemonium and upset of that day that Ronald’s four older children had realised how different Amy was. There was deep shame attached to their cousin, a shame which encroached on the family name as a whole, and for this reason Amy’s beginnings must never be mentioned. Not even by them.
Amy was now ramrod straight but she didn’t give in to the desire to slap the sneering smile off Eva’s face as she had done when she was younger. She didn’t want to give her cousin the satisfaction, besides which Eva was a dirty fighter and always won. Her voice shaking in spite of all her efforts to hide how upset she was, she said, ‘You’re a truly nasty, ugly person, Eva, inside where it really counts. And even if your outside changes, that won’t.’
The back door opened as she spoke. Amy turned her head, expecting to see her Aunt May back from shopping and mentally steeling herself for what would follow. But it was her eldest cousin, Perce, who stood stamping the snow off his boots. He had been taken on at the Iron and Steel Works by his grandfather on leaving school at fourteen two years before, and eighteen months later Bruce had joined his father and brother.The family had swelled to eight children - Betsy and Ruth, the twins, at eight years old, Thomas who was five and little eighteen-month-old Milly had followed the four older children - but with three wage packets coming in, the Depression hadn’t affected them as much as some folk.
Perce immediately sensed the atmosphere in the scullery. ‘What’s going on?’ His dark eyes flashed over Amy’s face to rest on Eva’s. ‘What have you been saying?’ he asked roughly.
‘Oh, that’s right, take her side as usual.’ Eva began to cry. ‘She called me ugly, didn’t she, Harriet? She said I was ugly and that she’d be May Queen this year and she wouldn’t choose me to attend her.’
‘I didn’t.’ Amy’s voice was quiet in contrast to Eva’s gabble. In spite of the fact that she knew Eva was right and that Perce would take her side, she wished it had been her aunt who had come in. The last few months she had admitted to herself she was frightened of Perce and yet she couldn’t say why. He was always nice to her, like Bruce. As nice as Eva was nasty. Both lads had been that way since she could remember. But whereas Bruce was easy-going and gentle and made her laugh, Perce was . . . different. The way he looked at her, the number of times he seemed to accidentally brush against her made her all on edge when he was around. It was silly, she knew, but sometimes she felt as though his gaze seemed to go through her clothes to her bare skin.
Amy took a deep breath and spoke across Eva who had begun to embroider her story even more. ‘Eva was saying nasty things about my mam and Aunt Kitty. I told her she was ugly inside and she is, but I never mentioned being May Queen or anything like that.’
‘You!’ Eva rounded on her. ‘You’re a dirty little liar. I never started it, did I, Harriet?’
Harriet stood gnawing on her thumbnail. Amy knew she didn’t want to get on the wrong side of either of her siblings; they both had a way of making life unpleasant for anyone who crossed them. She wasn’t surprised when Harriet dropped her head and took refuge in the tears she could turn on and off like a tap when it suited her.
Perce had taken off his cap and jacket and hung them on one of the pegs in the scullery. He raked back his thick brown hair, his voice a growl when he said to his sisters, ‘Get up them stairs, the pair of you. I’m sick of your carrying on. It’s about time you started to grow up a bit.’
‘Oh you, our Perce!’ Eva stood her ground. She was the only one of Perce’s brothers and sisters who wasn’t a little afraid of him. This was partly due to the fact that she knew she was her mother’s favourite and could count on her protection, but also because she was wily and cunning and knew how to get the upper hand. She tossed her head at him now, her lank plaits bobbing. ‘Just ’cos you want to show off in front of Amy.’
Perce’s neck turned a dull red, the colour creeping upwards into his cheeks. ‘Shut your face.’
Amy stared at them both. She sensed undercurrents of a nature which puzzled her, the more so when Eva said, ‘You still courting Cissy Owen then?’
‘None of your business.’
‘’Cos her brother says she’s been crying every night for a week. He told me at school she’s sure you’ve got your eye on someone else.’
‘She doesn’t know what she’s on about.’
‘I think she does.’ Eva put her hands on her dumpy hips, her brown eyes tight on her brother’s dark countenance. ‘And you’re barmy if you think Mam would stand for it.’
‘I said she doesn’t know what she’s on about.’
Amy was listening now with a mixture of amazement and relief, although she wouldn’t have been able to explain the latter emotion, even to herself. Perce had a lass? He had never said or brought her to the house. Amy’s gaze left Eva and fastened on Perce. He was tall and hefty and looked a lot older than sixteen and she noticed for the first time that he was quite handsome. She felt silly. Of course Perce would have found himself a lass, he’d left school well over two years ago and was earning steady money, thanks to his grandad. He’d be a catch for the lasses round about.
The arrival of Aunt May cut short any further taunting. Amy waited for Eva’s normal tittle-tattle to her mother to begin and returned to her scouring.The others followed their mother through to the kitchen. To Amy’s surprise, Eva made no mention of their altercation to her mother. From what she could hear, the two girls were setting the places for the Saturday fry-up they always had when Uncle Ronald and the lads finished work for the week, and Perce was explaining to his mother he was home a little earlier than his father and brother because his grandad had asked him to run an errand to one of their customers.
The heavy pan clean at last,Amy stood for a moment looking out of the tiny slit of the scullery window. She hoped the thick snow wouldn’t stop her Aunt Kitty’s regular Saturday visit.Aunt Kitty always took her to see her Grandma Shawe while her grandfather was at the football, but today she’d promised they would go and have tea at Binns too, as an extra birthday present. Amy’s hands, red and chapped from the scouring and cleaning she had been doing all morning since her breakfast at seven o’clock, touched the tiny silver cross at her throat. Her Aunt Kitty had given it to her the Saturday before for her fourteenth birthday which had fallen on a weekday. As usual it had been a quiet sort of birthday. Her Aunt May did not like her birthday being celebrated in the house. She didn’t bake her a cake, which she always did for a family birthday, or give her good wishes. This birthday hadn’t passed totally unnoticed in the Shawe household, however. Bruce had wished her a happy birthday and given her a box of chocolates.
‘What are you standing there for?’When her aunt appeared in the doorway, her voice was sharp. ‘Daydreaming again, girl?’
Amy stared at the thin, unprepossessing woman in front of her. She couldn’t remember when it had first dawned on her that her aunt didn’t like her, but along with the knowledge had come the realisation that she rarely called her anything but girl. And when her aunt thought she was out of earshot she referred to her in that way to Uncle Ronald too. That girl.
‘I’ve just finished seeing to the pans.’ Amy motioned with her hand towards the pile at the side of the stone sink. They had taken well over an hour to clean. ‘They were the last job.’
May nodded, her pale blue eyes assessing the result. ‘Good. Bring them through then and hang them up,’ she said briskly. She didn’t offer any thanks for what had been a full morning’s work and Amy did not expect any. Although the other children who were still at school all had little chores to do, none of them were expected to work like she did. But they were Aunt May and Uncle Ronald’s own bairns, whereas she had been taken in when otherwise she would have been placed in the workhouse orphanage. Again Amy couldn’t have said when she had come by this knowledge, it was as though she had always known it. But it was only in the last few months after the fight with Eva that she had ceased striving to win her aunt’s affections.
‘Aunt Kitty said she was going to take me to tea at Binns this week.’ Amy picked up two of the heavy pans. ‘Can I wear my Sunday frock, Aunt May?’
There was a pause and Amy knew her aunt wanted to refuse.
‘Aye, if you’re careful,’ May said at last.
Amy had just put the pans away when the sound of crying filtered through from upstairs. It was Milly, woken from her morning nap. Amy went to fetch the child without being asked; this was one of her many unspoken duties.
She picked the baby out of the cot, which was placed next to her aunt and uncle’s bed, and stood for a moment gazing round the room. It was comfortable and nicely furnished, as was the whole house. But she knew her uncle hadn’t provided the money for it. Mr O’Leary, Aunt May’s da, had seen to it all.
Rocking the baby in her arms, Amy’s mind went back to the time when they knew they were going to move to Fulwell. She had only been six or seven but she could remember the rows which had ensued for weeks before her Uncle Ronald had told them they were leaving Monkwearmouth. She especially remembered sitting on the stairs one night with Perce and Bruce, the three of them listening to Mr O’Leary in the kitchen below with Aunt May and Uncle Ronald. He’d declared that with the arrival of the twins there was no way his only child was going to be stuck in this rabbit hutch of a house where there wasn’t room to swing a cat. He’d found a nice property, he boomed. A three-bed terrace, with the fourth having been converted into a bathroom housing an indoor privy, bath and basin. And downstairs a front room, sitting room, kitchen and scullery would mean the family weren’t on top of each other all the time like they were now.
She and the boys had clutched each other, their eyes wide at the thought of an indoor privy, but Uncle Ronald had spoken and said just as loudly as Mr O’ Leary that they were staying put in Monkwearmouth and that was that. Only it hadn’t been. Her Aunt May had cried and cried and the rows had begun and then Aunt May had taken to her bed and the doctor had said she was suffering with her nerves. Shortly after this they had moved to Fulwell.
Amy left the room and walked downstairs, collecting the twins and Thomas from the sitting room where they’d been playing with their colouring books and crayons. By the time Ronald and Bruce walked in five minutes later, the little ones had washed their hands under Amy’s supervision and everyone was seated at the kitchen table.
Bruce smiled at Amy and she smiled back. Whatever the situation she always felt happier when Bruce was around. He was one of those people who always seemed to carry the sun wherever he went. She found it strange that with only eighteen months separating him and Perce, the two brothers were so different. In nature, that was.They looked very similar.
Her eyes followed her thoughts and she glanced at her eldest cousin and found Perce’s gaze hard on her. She stared at him for a second, taken aback by the look on his face. If she didn’t know better she would have said he was angry with her but she hadn’t upset him in any way, had she? No, she was sure she hadn’t. She blinked and the look was gone. But it had unnerved her.
Kitty arrived just as they were finishing their meal. When the knock came at the back door, May answered it although Eva and Bruce were nearer the scullery.They heard her voice, stilted and cool, inviting Kitty in. As though it was some great honour, Amy thought darkly. Her Aunt May did it to make Kitty uncomfortable, she was sure of it, but it never worked because Kitty just ignored the tone and was as cheerful and talkative as she always was.
‘Hello, lass.’ Kitty’s eyes went straight to Amy as she entered the kitchen. ‘Ready for the off?’
‘I just have to change my frock,’ said Amy, jumping up from her chair and rushing upstairs.
An uncomfortable silence followed her departure, which was broken by Ronald saying, ‘Busy at work, Kitty?’
‘Aye, fair rushed off our feet but with two million unemployed I’m not complaining. Mind, it bears out what me mam said when I got set on at the laundry after the war. She said the need for munitions might wane but laundries will always do a good trade.’
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