Let it Shine Read online

  Oh, thank God. It wasn’t the rent man. She breathed a sigh of relief. They were already three weeks in arrears, with still no money to catch up. But who the hell was that? Her curious eyes raked the smart figure at the door. ‘No, it can’t be!’ Then, ‘Yes, it bloody well is!’ It was her daughter, Ruth, and Freda couldn’t believe her eyes.

  Lifting the curtain, she called out, ‘Clear off, you! I said when you left you were never to set foot over my front doorstep again, and I meant every bleedin’ word. So bugger off – and good shuts to you!’

  Dropping the curtain, she marched out of the room and down the passage to the back parlour. ‘Bleedin’ cheek! If she thinks I’ve forgotten the names she called me, she can think again, the little slag! Coming after me like that! How in God’s name did she find me, that’s what I’d like to know.’

  Bubbling with anger, she thrust her two arms into the water, drew out her bloomers and wrung them in her fists, like she might have liked to wring her daughter’s neck, if only the silly little bitch was to stand still long enough!

  Refusing to go away, Ruth shouted through the letter box. ‘Mam, let me in! MAM! I’ve summat to tell yer. I’m not on the scrounge neither. I’ve got money to lend, if you’re in need of a bob or two.’

  ‘GO AWAY! WE DID OUR TALKING YEARS BACK.’ Money to lend indeed. Huh! That’d be the day.

  ‘Come on, Mam!’

  ‘I SAID GO AWAY!’

  ‘Listen!’ If she was to get inside, Ruth knew she would have to do some quick thinking. ‘If you send me away now, you’ll regret it for ever.’

  When only silence greeted her, she went on, ‘I’ve summat important to tell yer, but I’m not shouting for all the neighbours to hear, so you’d best let me in. When I’ve told you what I’ve come for, I’ll be on my way… if that’s what you really want.’ Taking a breath she called out, ‘I’ll count to ten. After that, I’m leaving. And you’ll allus wonder what it was I had to tell you.’

  She began the count. ‘One… two… I mean it, Mam.’

  Suddenly the door was flung open, and there stood Freda Clegg, eyes rolling with amazement as she looked her daughter up and down. ‘Well, will yer look what the cat’s dragged in,’ she declared. ‘The last time I clapped eyes on you, you were like some scruffy urchin off the streets – down on your luck, with a man friend who used you to bring home the wages, then smacked you senseless when it wasn’t enough.’

  ‘Come on, our mam! Will you let me in or what?’ Ruth didn’t like the way two passing neighbours had slowed their footsteps and were cocking an ear to what her mam was saying.

  They soon quickened their steps and hurried off when Freda yelled after them, ‘Heard enough, have yer? Come inside, why don’t you. Happen I’ll tell you how often me and Ernie do it. He might even oblige the pair of youse, if you ask him nicely.’

  Ruth laughed out loud, and it felt good. ‘You’re a tonic, Mam,’ she chuckled. ‘You never change, do you?’

  ‘Never mind that.’ Propelling her up the steps, she gave Ruth an almighty push. ‘As for you… get inside. I can’t believe you’ve tracked me down. Jesus! I thought I’d seen the last o’ you, and here you are – done up to the nines and offering me money.’

  That much at least, Freda Clegg would never refuse.

  Once inside the parlour, Ruth glanced about and was pleasantly surprised. The furniture was not expensive by any means, but it was good, solid stuff, and even had a shine where Freda had been polishing it. The rug in front of the fire was a bit threadbare, but it was cosy and colourful all the same. The table was laid with a pretty blue cloth, and there was a jug of flowers in its centre.

  Though the window was open, the room smelt slightly of booze; but all in all, it was a nice enough room.

  ‘Not what you’re used to, I don’t expect, not by the cut o’ them clothes.’ Scowling, the older woman defended her modest abode. ‘I’m proud o’ my little parlour. So you’d best not come here looking down on me, my girl. Don’t forget, I knew you when the snot dribbled from your nose and you hadn’t got a hankie to wipe it, nor for that matter, a pair o’ drawers to cover your skinny arse!’

  Ruth thought of the grand rooms, filled with expensive furniture that made you afraid to mark it, and Daisy, who listened at every door, and she knew where she felt safest. ‘You’re wrong,’ she told her mam quietly. ‘I was just thinking how cosy the parlour was.’

  ‘Oh! Got your approval, has it?’ Freda chuckled. ‘You should see it when there’s a good supply o’ booze about. I don’t waste no time on polishing and dusting then. You know your mam. She likes a good time when there’s one going. Only, what with one thing and another, good times have been in short supply lately.’

  Ruth gave a small, wry smile. ‘Nothing’s changed then, has it, Mam?’

  ‘Hey! I didn’t let you in that door so’s you could insult me. Besides, from what I can recall, you’re no angel yourself.’ She took another good look at her wayward daughter, at the smart brown suit and expensive jewellery, and was astounded. ‘Looks like you’ve done all right though, gal. Lying on your back with your legs in the air, was it?’

  Ignoring her mother’s attempts to start a row, Ruth took a liberty and sat herself down. ‘Look, Mam, I haven’t come here to argue, there’s no time for all that.’

  ‘What have you come for then?’

  ‘I need to ask you summat.’

  ‘Oh, do you now?’ Leaning up against the sideboard, Freda folded her arms and kept a wary eye on Ruth. ‘You’re in trouble, aren’t you?’

  ‘Sort of.’

  ‘There! I knew it. I bloody knew it!’ Shaking her fist she warned, ‘I told you when you ran off not to fetch your troubles to my door, and here you are, bold as bleedin’ brass! You’d best get out afore I lose my temper – and you know well enough what kinda temper I’ve got.’

  ‘Please, Mam, it’s not like that. Sit down and I’ll tell you.’

  Temper subsiding, Freda peeped at her from beneath frowning eyebrows. ‘You said you had money to lend. Was that just so’s I’d let you in?’

  Desperate to get back to Summerfield House before Peter got home, Ruth denied it. ‘I’ve money in my bag, but first I need to talk.’

  Freda’s voice sharpened. ‘You’d best not be playing games with me, young lady. Just now, when you came knocking on that door, you put the fear o’ Christ in me. Ernie’s been off work and we’re three weeks behind with the rent. Can you sort it, or can you not?’

  In answer to that, Ruth opened her bag and took out a wad of notes, which she waved in the air. ‘Now will you sit down?’

  At the sight of all that money, Freda could do no other than sit down, or she’d have dropped where she stood. ‘My God! Wherever did you get all that? Jesus! You ain’t stole it from some man and he’s got you on the run, have you? ’Cause I don’t want that kind o’ trouble here. I’m too old to be doing with all that.’

  Ruth lied through her teeth. ‘There’s no man to worry about. He went off with some woman when he found out I was pregnant. But as you can see, he left me well provided for.’

  ‘Pregnant, eh? I knew you’d get caught one o’ these fine days.’ Suspicion reared its ugly head, ‘What I don’t understand is what you’re doing here. Looks to me like you’ve enough money to get yourself a place of your own.’

  ‘I don’t want a place of my own, at least not yet. All I’m asking is to stay with you until the baby’s born.’

  ‘What!’ Freda laughed out loud. ‘Don’t tell me you’re scared of having a bairn. Is that it, eh? You’ve come home to your mammy ’cause you’re frightened to be on your own when it’s born. By! I never thought I’d see the day when you were frightened of anything!’

  Ruth was secretly delighted. She had been about to make up some other story, but now she pounced on the opportunity. ‘That’s it, Mam,’ she agreed. ‘I’m terrified of having a bairn. I can’t sleep at night, I’m that worried. I had to find you, Mam. I need to stay with you until
it’s born. After that, I’ll get a place of my own and keep right away, if that’s what you want.’

  Freda’s only thought was to be rid of the rent arrears and line her own pocket. ‘How much will you pay?’

  ‘Whatever you ask… within reason.’ She must remember she wouldn’t have unlimited funds; even if she stole enough to set her up later on.

  ‘Five shillings a week.’

  ‘Two.’

  ‘Four.’

  ‘Three shillings a week, and an extra sixpence a week when the bairn’s born.’

  Freda considered it, but it wasn’t enough. ‘Three and sixpence a week, and the extra sixpence after.’

  Ruth hadn’t expected her mam to be so mean, but right now, she didn’t have time to argue, ‘All right, it’s a deal.’

  Freda couldn’t take her eyes off the wad of notes peeping out from her daughter’s bag. ‘And four weeks’ rent in advance, payable now afore you leave.’

  While Ruth counted out the money, her mam went to put the kettle on, all the while chatting about her life so far. ‘Me and Ernie fight a lot,’ she confessed, ‘but it wouldn’t be me if I didn’t want to rule the roost.’

  ‘You’re a mean, selfish cow, that’s why.’ Ruth knew her mam only too well. ‘I bet you give him hell, don’t you?’ she suspected. ‘I bet you knock seven bells out of him at different times, especially if you’ve had a drink or two.’

  Returning with two mugs of tea, Freda put one on the arm of Ruth’s chair and the other she kept herself. Sitting opposite in Ernie’s armchair, she answered Ruth’s question. ‘Like I said, we fight a lot, and happen I am a bit mean to him, but that’s the way I am, and he knew that when he asked me to come here and live with him.’

  Ruth took a sip of her tea, only to find it was disgusting. ‘It’s cold and there’s hardly any milk in it,’ she complained, setting it down in the hearth. ‘Don’t tell me you haven’t got any milk?’

  Freda shook her head mournfully. ‘You had the last drop,’ she said. ‘Me and Ernie have learned to take it any way it comes, but it won’t stretch to visitors.’ Her face lit up. ‘He’s in work now, though,’ she reminded Ruth, ‘and things are already looking up because you’ve just given me a month’s rent in advance.’

  ‘Don’t you think you should clear it with this Ernie first?’ Ruth asked.

  Freda’s eyes almost popped out of her head. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because it’s his house, that’s why.’

  Freda laughed out loud. ‘It might be his house,’ she declared, ‘but I’m the boss.’

  Ruth might have known. ‘Poor sod,’ she said. ‘I should think he regrets the day he let you move in here.’

  ‘Oh, he does. But he’d break his heart if I were to walk out on him.’ Her eyes grew dreamy. ‘I do love him though. He’s a lovely bloke and you’re right, he doesn’t deserve a spiteful cow like me.’

  ‘Are you two wed?’

  ‘Good God, no!’ Freda seemed astonished at the thought. ‘We left it so either one of us could walk out that door whenever we felt like it.’ She chuckled coarsely. ‘The truth is, there have been times when we’ve had such awful rows, that I’d have run a bleedin’ mile. But when I stopped to think about it, I knew where I was well off, so I stayed.’ Leaning back in her chair, she confided, ‘He was wed once, you know… had a grown-up son too.’

  ‘What do you mean, had?’

  ‘His wife passed on some time back – twelve year or more ago. A while after that, me and him got together, but the son took a dislike to me.’

  ‘I wonder why!’ Ruth muttered sarcastically.

  ‘Anyway, there was a God-awful row and they went their separate ways. It’s such a shame, ’cause Ernie idolises that lad. He even got arrested some time back, hanging about the street his son lives, waiting to catch a sight of his lad, he was. It’s pathetic really. I told him, “You silly old bugger,” I said, “he’s turned his back on you. Leave it at that, why don’t you?” But he can’t. He’ll never be content till they’ve made up their differences.’ She grimaced. ‘Mind you, I can’t see it happening.’

  ‘Where does his son live?’

  ‘Along Buncer Lane – where that poor couple got burned to death.’ Oblivious to her daughter’s whitened face, she went on, ‘They say the son was badly injured – been in a wheelchair ever since.’ Suddenly, catching sight of Ruth’s shocked face, she peered at her through small eyes. ‘Hey! Look at the colour o’ you. I’ve knocked you for six, ain’t I, talking about them being burned to their deaths?’

  Without replying, Ruth collected her cold tea from the hearth and took a great big gulp. If her mam found out how her own daughter was living with the man responsible, there was no telling what she might do!

  Freda continued her chatter. ‘It turns out that poor lad Larry and Ernie’s son Mick are the best of friends. They went to school together.’

  By now her chatter was washing over Ruth’s head. It was a dangerous world she had found herself in. ‘Look, Mam, I’ve got to go,’ she said, ‘but I’ll be back.’

  Before she had taken two steps, a loud knock came on the front door. ‘Jesus! Get down!’ Grabbing Ruth’s arm, Freda dragged her behind the settee. ‘It’s that bloody rent man again!’ she hissed.

  Ruth couldn’t understand it. ‘So pay him, Mam,’ she urged. ‘You’ve got the money now.’

  ‘Like hell I will!’ Freda snapped. ‘He can whistle for his bloody rent!’ And she would not be budged. ‘Stay where you are, till he’s good and gone,’ she ordered. ‘He’ll be away in a minute, you’ll see.’

  It was twenty minutes before she let Ruth get up, at which point Ruth bolted out of the house and took to her heels. ‘I’ll see you some time soon, then?’ Freda called.

  ‘All right, Mam, yes.’ Because, however much she dreaded it, Ruth feared she had little choice.

  Better the devil you knew, than the devil himself, she thought.

  Chapter Ten

  It was Sunday, Ellie’s last day before starting work.

  ‘What’s the matter, dearie?’ Peggy had been watching Ellie pick at her food. ‘You always enjoy your Sunday dinner.’

  ‘Oh! I’m sorry.’ Ellie had been miles away, her mind on tomorrow, when she would be out in the big wide world, earning her living at last. ‘I was just thinking.’

  Ted put down his fork. ‘It’s a big day for the lasses,’ he said. ‘They’ve finished with school, and tomorrow they’ll be working folk. It’s a bit hard to get used to at first.’ Picking up his fork again, he stabbed a piece of red meat, then a small potato and, smiling at Ellie, continued to enjoy his meal.

  Betsy had something to say and, as usual, it betrayed her selfishness. ‘I’d rather be at school. I don’t fancy working at the shoe-factory.’ Her comment was addressed to Ted, but he ignored her, so she turned to Peggy. ‘I really wish I was going to college. I know you can’t afford for us both to go, and I’m sure Ellie’s not all that bothered, so why can’t you just send me? You promised I could go to college!’

  ‘Oh, dearie me.’ Peggy began to get flustered. ‘That was before me and Ted sat down and worked it all out. The truth is, it would take every penny we’ve got, and more besides. We would have to borrow, and we’ve never been in debt in our lives. We probably couldn’t pay it back, you see.’ In desperation she turned to her husband. ‘That’s right, isn’t, dear?’

  ‘Beg your pardon?’ The lump of carrot bobbed up and down over his tongue.

  Realising he hadn’t been listening to a word she’d said, Peggy gave a sigh. ‘Don’t talk with your mouth full, Ted,’ she chided. ‘It isn’t nice.’

  ‘Hmh.’ Closing his mouth, he swallowed his food so quickly it made his eyes water. ‘What did you ask me, just now?’

  ‘I said we’re sorry the girls weren’t able to stay on at college. Betsy was saying how Ellie wouldn’t mind if we just sent Betsy, but like I was telling her, we can’t really afford to do even that.’

  Frowning, Ted Walters p
eered at Betsy from beneath his brows. ‘I thought we’d settled all that, weeks since. You know very well, if we’d been able to, we would have sent you both to college. But we can’t afford it, and all the will in the world won’t put money in the bank.’

  ‘You’ll be all right, Betsy dear,’ Peggy chipped in. ‘You might even enjoy working at the shoe-factory.’

  Ted agreed. ‘Moreover, if you’re dead set on going to college, you can now begin to save up every penny towards it. Me and Peggy won’t charge you much for your keep – just enough to cover the basics, that’s all. So, with low outgoings, you should soon be able to build up a tidy sum.’

  Ellie finished her meal and pushed her plate away. ‘That’s just what I said. Mrs Potton even promised she would ask the authorities if they could help. But first, Betsy has to prove how dedicated she is.’

  Ted shook his head. ‘Oh, I wouldn’t count on the authorities helping,’ he said, pursing his lips in his usual, contemplative fashion. ‘Promises are like pie-crust, you know – made to be broken. In fact, it won’t be too long now before they wash their hands of the pair of you altogether. In my experience, once you’re out and working, they turn their attention to the more needy.’

  Peggy was hopeful. ‘I’m sure it will all work out very well,’ she said. ‘I’ve a feeling you’ll like working at the shoe-factory. You’ll make new friends and you’ll be earning your own money. Once you get over the first day or so, it’ll be grand, you’ll see.’

  ‘That’s right,’ Ted declared. ‘It’ll be good for them. It will make the lasses independent as you say, and give them a sense of responsibility into the bargain.’ He was alluding to Betsy in particular.

  And it was she who retaliated: ‘I’m not looking forward to the journey. It’s a long way to the shoe-factory on the tram. I’ll be worn out by the time I get home.’

  Ellie had a thing or two to say. ‘Don’t be peevish, Betsy. It’s not as if you’ll be working at the mill, where they’re on their feet all day, and have to start at six o’clock of a morning. You’ll be sitting in the office in front of a desk, and besides, you won’t have to start till half past eight, so it’s not so bad.’