A Wise Child Read online

She stumped out of the room and Nellie lay thinking of what she had said. At least she answered some of the things I want to know, she thought, and she told me more than she realised.

  Tears filled Nellie’s eyes. Poor Sam. Janey had taken advantage of his good nature to trick him into marriage, she thought, and just for the sake of money. I’ll make him a good wife though, she vowed, and make him glad he married me. A shadow came over her as she thought if only I can convince him about the baby and have everything straight between us.

  Maggie came in the next morning as soon as Janey had left with her fish and Bobby for school. She brought a small bowl of broth. ‘Get this down you, girl,’ she said. ‘It’ll do you more good than gruel.’

  ‘It smells good,’ Nellie said.

  ‘It’s out of the money what Sam gave me for us,’ Maggie said. ‘But it didn’t cost nothing hardly. I got two penn’orth of bits from the butcher’s and some barley and the kids got carrots and onions and that from the market. The stuff what gets thrown away but when you cut the bad off there’s plenty left. I made a big panful of barley broth and you should have seen them muck in.’

  ‘Sam left me money off his advance note,’ Nellie said. ‘You shouldn’t be bringing me your stuff.’

  She thought that Johnny needed it more than she did but she said nothing lest she offended her neighbour. She could see Maggie’s pleasure in being able to give.

  ‘I’ve still got the money he left me for you,’ Maggie said. ‘I’ll get you some treat after. You’ve got a proper good fella, Nell.’

  ‘I know,’ Nellie said smiling.

  ‘My kids were made up when he come to live here,’ Maggie said. ‘He always used to give them pennies when he seen them near the Volley whenever he was ashore.’

  ‘Sam knows what it’s like to be hungry,’ Nellie said. ‘When I first met him when we was kids he didn’t have no home and he was living rough, like. His dad threw him out when he was only seven and he sold papers and that to live.’

  ‘It’s a wonder one of the neighbours never took him in,’ Maggie said.

  ‘He said he thought the neighbours fancied there was a curse on the family. Every child after him died soon after it was born. When I met him his mam was dead. I don’t know what happened to his dad. He used to be a steward on the Cunard line.’

  ‘They must have been well off then,’ Maggie said.

  Nellie smiled reminiscently. ‘The first time I met Sam I was carrying a bundle of washing home from the Unicorn. Some lads snatched it off me and they was throwing it to each other. I was crying. I was terrified like it would get muddy because it’d been raining. Me ma would’ve killed me.’

  ‘No wonder you was frightened,’ Maggie said. ‘Grown men was frightened of your ma.’

  Nellie nodded. ‘Sam come running up. He was barefoot and ragged but he was a big lad even then and he soon got the bundle back and chased the lads. He was awful good to me. Wiped me eyes on me pinny and carried the washing till I was nearly home.’

  ‘The only time I ever seen you was with them bundles,’ Maggie said. ‘Very near as big as yourself. You never played out or went to school much, did you?’

  ‘No, me ma kept me in drudging for her,’ Nellie said.

  ‘How old was you then when Sam helped you?’ Maggie asked.

  ‘I was nine and Sam was eleven. After that he often carried the bundles for me. Sometimes the maids in the Unicorn or other places would give me a butty or a piece of cake and me and Sam shared it. One time a milkman gave me tuppence to take a message to a maid and we got two ha’penny fish and a ha’p’orth of chips and two barmcakes.’ She laughed at the memory.

  ‘So you’ve known each other all that time?’

  ‘We only met for about a year,’ Nellie said. ‘Then Sam got sent to the reformatory in Heswall for five years for stealing a pot of jam. After that he went to sea and I was in service.’

  ‘So when did you meet him again?’ Maggie asked.

  ‘Not long before we was married,’ Nellie said, blushing.

  ‘Me mam wouldn’t let me go in service,’ Maggie said, noticing Nellie’s blush and changing the subject skilfully, ‘but I suppose you was glad to get away from here.’

  ‘It was me dad fixed it up,’ Nellie said. ‘When I was thirteen. He’d come ashore and there was some big row and the next thing I was in service in Jubilee Road. It was a lovely place. A sister and a brother it was, very old. Miss Agatha and Mr Ambrose. There was the cook, Mrs Hignett, and Gertrude the parlourmaid and Mrs Jones who come in to do the “rough”. I got taken on to help Gertrude because she didn’t want to be pensioned off but she had arthritis terrible bad.’

  ‘They must have been good to do that,’ Maggie said.

  ‘They was awful good to me. Mr Ambrose learned me to read and write and Miss Agatha showed me how to sew. Mrs Hignett learned me to cook. I had to do most of the work for Gertrude but she learned me what to do an’ all. I didn’t know nothing when I went there.’

  ‘Why did you leave there, then?’ asked Maggie.

  ‘They died. Miss Agatha first and Mr Ambrose two days after. It was that Spanish flu. There wasn’t no relations and a lawyer gentleman had to see to everything. Gertrude went in a nursing home and Mrs Hignett went to live with her sister. It was a terrible time. We were that upset about them dying and everything upside down.’

  ‘And wharrabout you?’ Maggie said.

  ‘The lawyer gentleman spoke for me for a place in Newsham Park,’ Nellie said. She lay back and closed her eyes, memories flooding back of the Leadbetter household.

  Maggie stood up. ‘I’ve tired you out gabbing,’ she said remorsefully. ‘Sadie McCann will have my life. I’ll come in again after.’

  Nellie opened her eyes and smiled. ‘Thanks, Maggie,’ she said, ‘and thanks for the broth.’

  ‘They learned you manners too,’ Maggie said with a grin as she went out.

  Janey arrived home in a foul mood, made worse when Nellie unwisely told her about the broth.

  ‘So your fella give plenty to them scroungers next door. Never gave me nothing for all I done for you,’ she snarled.

  ‘I thought he mugged you out of his advance note,’ Nellie said timidly.

  ‘Aye, but he give more next door. I suppose he blames me now he’s got his doubts about the baby,’ Janey said spitefully.

  Nellie jerked upright. ‘But he is Sam’s baby,’ she cried. ‘I know he is. That’s why he’s small, because he came early.’

  ‘He’s small because you never ate nothing before he was born,’ Janey said. ‘First babies more often come late. He’s more likely Leadbetter’s.’

  ‘He’s not. I know he’s Sam’s,’ Nellie protested, near to tears. ‘I’m going to tell Sam what Mr Leadbetter done to me but I know he’s Sam’s baby.’

  ‘Don’t talk so bloody stupid,’ Janey said. ‘What d’you think he’d do? He’d batter you and then get shut of you.’ She jerked her head at the baby. ‘And he’d be classed as a bastard. Is that what you want? Don’t be a fool, girl. Let sleeping dogs lie.’

  She stumped downstairs, leaving Nellie with her mind in turmoil. Could Janey be right about the baby? No. All her instincts told her that Sam was her baby’s father. But what if she told him about Leadbetter? Would he disbelieve her and beat her and cast her off as Janey said he would?

  She knew that there was a violent side to Sam’s nature and that he had often been in trouble for fighting in the years before they were married. Most important of all, dare she risk the baby being classed as illegitimate? Never, never, she decided passionately, holding the baby close.

  Nellie spent a restless night, at one moment deciding that she must do as Janey said and say nothing, the next deciding that she knew Sam better than Janey did and that he would never hurt her or the baby. But what if he thought the baby was not his? Did he have the right to know the truth so that he could answer any taunts or should she let the whole episode with Leadbetter lie buried?

  Towards
dawn she decided that she could do nothing anyway until Sam came home and fell into an uneasy sleep. The nurse was annoyed the following morning to find Nellie feverish and the baby cross and fretful.

  ‘Has something upset you?’ she demanded. ‘Was it the old one?’

  ‘I just couldn’t sleep,’ Nellie said evasively but Nurse McCann was not satisfied.

  ‘Something’s upset you and you haven’t been out of the house,’ she said. ‘Don’t let that old woman bully you, Nellie, and don’t take any of her concoctions either.’

  ‘I won’t, Nurse,’ Nellie said meekly and the nurse nodded.

  ‘See you don’t,’ she said. ‘Even if you fall for another quickly – well, there’s worse things than having a baby. I know she makes stuff and sells it to women who want to get rid of a baby and I’ve seen the damage it causes but none of them will talk. She’s as slippery as an eel but I’ll get her one of these days.’

  Nellie said nothing but she remembered as a child taking coal into Janey’s room and seeing her hand a small bottle to a woman, saying, ‘And remember I don’t know nothing about it. You never come near me.’

  The woman had pulled her shawl over her head and scuttled away through the side door. Janey said nothing to Nellie, who had forgotten the incident until now.

  The nurse tut-tutted as she examined the baby. ‘This little fellow’s upset too,’ she said. ‘And he can’t afford any setbacks, Nellie. He’s a little fighter but you’ll have to do your part too. See you don’t do anything to curdle your milk and watch what you take.’

  Nellie looked anxious. ‘I had some barley broth yesterday,’ she said but the nurse laughed.

  ‘That wasn’t what I meant. Broth won’t do you any harm. You’ll have to lie flat on the ninth day and only have gruel but apart from that you can eat most things. Are you worrying about something?’ she demanded suddenly. ‘About your da maybe?’

  ‘My da?’ Nellie said in surprise.

  ‘I can see it’s not that,’ the nurse said.

  ‘I never really thought about why he backed out,’ Nellie confessed, ‘so much has been happening.’

  ‘It wasn’t because your ma wasn’t here, that’s for sure,’ the nurse said decidedly. ‘He never came home to see her, only you and Bobby, for all she got dolled up and tried to be different while he was home.’

  ‘I got new clothes and shoes too,’ Nellie said, ‘whenever Da came home.’

  ‘Yes, and when he went, his ship hadn’t passed the bar before they were in the pawnshop,’ the nurse said. She tucked the baby in beside Nellie. ‘Anyway, Nellie, your da was a decent little fellow. It’s a pity he didn’t drink round here or he’d have found out sooner about what went on here.’

  Nellie looked bewildered and the nurse patted her shoulder.

  ‘Never mind, love, don’t worry about it,’ she said. ‘Who knows? He could sign on a ship again in America one day and just come walking in here. Now I’m going to give you two aspirins to bring your temperature down and I’ll put a jug of water here and a cup. Try to drink as much as you can. It’ll help your milk and settle the baby.’

  When she had gone Nellie lay thinking about her father and when Maggie came in later she asked her about him.

  ‘I never seen him, only once when I seen you all dressed up getting the tram with him,’ Maggie said.

  Nellie said with a smile, ‘He used to take me out. On the Overhead Railway sometimes and he showed me where they used to live in the Dingle. You could see it from the Overhead.’

  ‘We only come here late on in the war,’ Maggie said. ‘I lived with me mam in the next street till then, but Bella Edwards from number fourteen has told me a lot about youse. You had a terrible time when you was a child, didn’t you?’

  ‘I suppose I did,’ Nellie said in surprise, ‘but I never knew nothing different so it didn’t seem so bad to me.’

  ‘Bella said your ma hated you. She said Bobby went to school and played out but you was just a little drudge. Doing the washing half the time as well as carrying it. She said your ma called herself a washerwoman but it was only a blind for how she really made her money.’ She paused with the cup halfway to her mouth. ‘You don’t mind me talking like this, girl?’

  ‘No, I want to know, Maggie. The nurse said some things but I don’t like asking her. I never knew what was going on when I was little. I was in a dream half the time and I was always that frightened. I never spoke to no one hardly either.’

  Maggie needed no further encouragement. ‘Well, Bella said your da used to go on long trips but your ma always found out when he was due and she used to rig you and herself out in new clothes.’

  ‘What about Bobby?’ Nellie asked.

  ‘Bella reckoned he had decent clothes with going to school but you was always in rags and barefoot half the time. She said your da never went out with your ma but he used to take you out. She said nobody got to know him properly like because he didn’t drink round here and he was a bit of a gentleman. Funny when you think of your ma.’

  ‘I wonder if that was why Ma hated me?’ Nellie said thoughtfully. She recalled a time when her mother was beating her ferociously and Janey suddenly said, ‘Knock it off, Harriet. D’you think you’ll ever see him again if she snuffs it?’ The beating had stopped, but as Nellie cowered in the corner she had seen her mother’s face contorted with such hatred that she had closed her eyes and tried to make herself even smaller.

  ‘Bella said you was your da’s favourite and when you was about thirteen your ma slipped up. Your da’s ship had been torpedoed and he come home unexpected. You walked in barefoot and in a skimpy old frock with a big bundle and there was murder. They could hear the row all over the street.’

  ‘I remember it,’ Nellie said. ‘Not so much the row but going off with my da. I was ashamed because I was so scruffy. He took me to this house – I think there was a minister there. I know a maid washed me in a great big bath. I’d never seen one before with hot water coming out of the taps. She put sassafras oil on my head and I slept in a bed on my own.’

  ‘Where was it?’ Maggie asked but Nellie shook her head.

  ‘I don’t know. I was that mazed, I suppose. I know the next morning I had another bath and had me hair washed and cut, then she brought me clothes.’ She blushed at the memory. ‘She had to show me what to do with the stockings. Fasten them on to the suspenders on a liberty bodice.’

  ‘And what happened then?’ Maggie said eagerly.

  Belatedly Nellie realised that Bella would probably hear these revelations to add to her story and she said briefly, ‘I started at that good place in Jubilee Road. Johnny doesn’t seem to be coughing so much today.’

  ‘No,’ Maggie said, taking the hint. ‘It’s the fog what makes it worse. I suppose that’s why they won’t give him no pension. Are you all right now, Nell? I’d better get these nappies washed through.’

  After she had gone Nellie lay thinking of her childhood. Strange that until Maggie used the word hatred she had never realised that that was what her mother felt for her but it was true. It’s funny, she thought, everybody seems to know more about my family than what I do. Maggie and the nurse and this Bella, whoever she is.

  Her thoughts turned to the expeditions with her father and the happy days when he was home from sea. My life wasn’t all bad, she thought. There were those days and the year I used to see Sam. I wonder if the nurse is right and Da might come walking in one day.

  With her mind diverted from her previous worries, she fell asleep smiling happily.

  When she woke she remembered that she had mentioned the row to Maggie on an earlier occasion and they had gone on to talk about her first place. Maggie had not tried to probe about the row although she already knew what Bella had told her. Nellie felt that she had misjudged her neighbour and welcomed Maggie warmly when she came in to see her.

  Nellie would often have become despondent during the long days in bed if it had not been for the visits by the nurse and Maggie. In spi
te of her hard life Maggie Nolan had an irrepressible cheerfulness and always hoped for better times to come. She called several times each day to help Nellie and always managed to make her laugh with thumbnail sketches of their neighbours or anecdotes of her children.

  ‘I don’t know any of the neighbours,’ Nellie said wistfully one day, ‘even the ones who were here when I was a kid.’

  ‘You’ll soon get to know them when you’re on your feet again,’ Maggie said cheerfully. ‘They’re not a bad lot.’ She laughed. ‘We all jangle about each other but we pull together. We haven’t got much, none of us, but nobody wouldn’t see you short if they had anything to give you.’

  ‘Janey doesn’t seem to mix, like,’ Nellie said cautiously.

  ‘No, but you’ll be made welcome,’ Maggie said. She hesitated. ‘You know, the way you got knocked about, people would’ve stood up for you, Nell, only they were that frightened of Janey and your ma. They nearly all owe Janey.’

  ‘But they won’t think I’m tarred with the same brush,’ Nellie said.

  Maggie laughed again. ‘Anything but, girl. They’re just sorry they couldn’t do nothing for you when you was little. That fella in the bottom house that beats his wife and kids – nobody never buys him a drink even when they know he’s skint and they won’t take a drink off him neither. Oh, there’s ways of making people like that know what we think about them. Fellas that go too far.’

  Sometimes Maggie talked about her own childhood, when she lived in the next street. ‘We never had much money because me dad was a docker but we was happy,’ she said. ‘Mam had five lads but she always wanted a girl so she was made up when I was born. They all spoiled me, the lads as well as Mam and Dad.’

  ‘Do your brothers live near?’ Nellie asked and then was sorry when Maggie’s smile faded.

  ‘There’s only one left,’ she said with a sigh. ‘Four of them got killed in the war. Three in one week, our Richard and our Billy and our Walter. They all joined up together, see.’

  ‘Mr Ambrose in my first place – he said brothers shouldn’t be sent into action together. So many lads from the same family get killed in the same battle,’ Nellie said.