Looking Back Read online

  At the door, Rosie gave her daughter an almighty shove, sending her into the front passage at a run. ‘I should think they’re all having a laugh at you back at the pub. Ye silly young article, have you no sense at all? Sure, there was no man, and no proposal, and if you’ve let him have his wicked way with ye, all I can say is, you’d better pray to Mary Mother of God, that he hasn’t made you with child!’

  At this point, Sandra began to wail. ‘Oh, Mam! I can’t remember if we did it or not! What if we did? What if I’m pregnant?’

  ‘Then you’ll be sick as a pig of a morning. You’ll grow fat and clumsy and waddle down the street like a duck stuffed ready for the oven. And when your time comes you’ll go into labour and that’s when you’ll wish to God you’d never clapped eyes on the fella. Then o’ course you’ll have the bairn as easy as shelling peas, and afterwards I’ll chuck the pair of youse right out the door, so I will.’

  ‘Aw, you wouldn’t, would you, Mam?’ Sober as a judge by now, Sandra was beginning to panic.

  ‘Ah, will ye stop the whining and get inside now.’ Though Rosie’s anger was already subsiding, she didn’t let on. ‘We’ll see what your grandaddy has to say about all this.’

  With that, the door shut behind them and all was peace again. Down the street, Alfie tutted. ‘It’s like thunder and lightning when them two start.’

  Molly smiled, then Alfie, and in no time the two of them were laughing aloud.

  ‘I wonder who the fella was?’ Alfie said.

  Molly had few illusions about her friend. ‘Happen there wasn’t a fella at all.’ All those who knew Sandra were aware of her vivid imagination. ‘You know how she likes to fancify.’ And yet Sandra had sounded definite enough to cause doubts in Molly’s mind. ‘On the other hand, maybe she really has met somebody she’s taken a liking to.’

  Alfie nodded. ‘We’ll see.’ Giving Molly a hug, he said, ‘It’s time I was off to the gymnasium.’

  Glancing at the window, Molly saw her mother looking out. ‘Our mam’s watching for me. If everything’s not shipshape when Dad gets home, there’ll be another row, and with Mam the way she is, that’s the last thing she needs.’

  Reluctantly, they parted company, Alfie to Blackburn town and the gymnasium; Molly indoors to give her mam a helping hand.

  She found Amy seated in front of the fire. ‘Are you all right, Mam?’ Molly thought her mother looked to be in pain. ‘The baby hasn’t started, has it?’ Excitement mingled with terror.

  Forcing a smile, Amy shook her head. ‘No, lass,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a bit of a backache, that’s all.’ Her weary gaze shifted to the door. ‘It’s them little buggers upstairs, they wear me out.’ Lowering her voice she confided, ‘Sometimes I wonder what to make of our Lottie. She allus seems to be looking for trouble.’

  ‘What’s she been up to now?’ Molly was always wary of her younger sister. Where Sandra was foolish and vulnerable, Lottie had the makings of a really nasty piece of work.

  ‘She’s not been up to anything exactly.’ Amy gave a sigh as deep as her boots. ‘But she will keep asking questions…’ Realising she had said enough, Amy clammed up.

  ‘Questions?’ Molly detected an odd note in her mother’s voice. ‘What about?’

  ‘Nothing in particular.’ Amy thought it best not to mention Jack’s visit. ‘Our Lottie’s head is too old for her shoulders, that’s the trouble.’

  ‘Well, she seems to have worn you out, that’s for sure.’ Molly had never seen her mam look so tired. ‘Get yourself off to bed.’ She glanced at the mantelpiece clock. ‘It’s twenty to ten. I’ll get Dad’s meal.’ Throwing off her coat she hung it on the nail behind the door. ‘And don’t you be worrying about what he might say. I’ll tell him you’re feeling a bit worse for wear, and I packed you off to your bed.’

  Amy was fearful. ‘No, lass. You know what Frank’s like. When he walks through that door he expects to see me ready to wait on him hand and foot. He won’t like it if I’m not there to put his food in front of him.’

  ‘I’m not worried about what he wants, Mam,’ Molly bristled. ‘It’s you I’m concerned about.’ She looked searchingly at her mother’s face, so grey and troubled. It hurt the girl to see how subservient her mother had become, and all in the name of peace. ‘He can rant and rave all he likes,’ she said. ‘Go on, our mam… away upstairs, eh? You look all in.’

  Amy shook her head. ‘No, lass, I can’t go to my bed. I’ll just sit here awhile and catch my breath.’

  Molly knew better than to argue with her. ‘Right then,’ she said, rubbing her hands together. ‘What’s to be done?’

  Relieved, Amy told her, ‘I’ve made him a meat pie – it’s baked to a turn; there’s cabbage and taters keeping warm on the hob, and it’ll only take a minute to make the gravy. He likes it fresh and hot, does your dad.’ She gave a smile, but it was a sad little thing, never reaching her eyes. ‘All it needs now is for me to strain the cabbage water into the meat juices, and stir it together with a pinch of raising flour. Oh, and the table needs setting.’

  Before going into the scullery, Molly had more to say. ‘Our Lottie really upset you, didn’t she, Mam?’ There was something about her mother that she couldn’t put her finger on. ‘Happen I should have a word with her.’

  ‘No, lass, don’t do that. It were summat and nowt. It’s my fault anyway. I palmed young Eddie off on her, and he’s such a handful I’m not surprised she was put out.’

  ‘And is that what all this is about? Because you asked Lottie to keep an eye on Eddie? She didn’t want the responsibility, so she threw one of her famous tantrums?’

  ‘Like I said… it were summat and nowt.’ Ashamed, Amy stared into the fire. Never in her life had she lied to her eldest daughter. In fact, ever since she was twelve years old, Molly had been more of a best friend to her than a daughter. Funny, she thought, Molly was the only child who didn’t belong to Frank, and yet she was the only one she really loved. It was a shocking thing to say, but it was true, God forgive her.

  Molly rolled up her sleeves. ‘You sit there until I’ve got it all ready to serve up,’ she ordered. ‘I might as well set the table, too, while I’m at it.’

  Too worn out to argue, Amy settled back in the chair. ‘You’re a good lass,’ she said, closing her eyes with a sigh.

  Molly’s answer was a cheeky wink. ‘I’ll tell you what though,’ she said, bustling into the scullery. ‘Before I look to feeding his face, I’ll make you a brew.’ One swift glance caught the strain on Amy’s countenance. ‘You look as if you need it.’

  Chapter Three

  Half past ten came and went, and still Frank Tattersall wasn’t home. ‘I expect he’s gone off somewhere with his drinking cronies.’ Amy had seen it all before. ‘Gone gambling, I dare say. Wasting more money.’

  For the next hour, she snoozed in the chair and Molly sat with her. When Amy woke with a start, Molly insisted on her going to bed. ‘I’ll wait for him,’ she promised. ‘It’ll be all right.’ And Amy was too weary to argue.

  The next hour passed quickly, with Molly checking the meal and making herself a brew, then going back and forth to the window to watch for him. ‘You selfish bastard,’ she muttered, dropping the curtains. ‘You’ve no thought for anybody but yourself.’

  Molly was half asleep in the chair when she finally heard him fumbling at the door. A quick glance at the mantelpiece clock told her it was almost one o’clock in the morning. ‘Shame on him.’ Scrambling from her chair she went into the scullery, only to find the dinner steamed to a pulp.

  ‘Amy! I’m home!’ Throwing open the front door, Frank stumbled into the passage. ‘I’m a bit merry,’ he giggled. ‘Met an old pal in the boozer… we had a drink for old times’ sake.’ While he shouted, he made numerous attempts to shut the door, without success. ‘Bloody thing!’ Standing back he gave an almighty kick that sent the door home with a shudder, and himself sideways against the wall. ‘Amy!’ His voice rose to the rafters. ‘AMY!’
r />   Making his way to the parlour, he kept on calling, ‘What’s your game, eh? Didn’t you hear me?’ Straddling the doorway he glared into the room. ‘What’s this then, eh?’ He felt oddly uncomfortable with his eldest daughter’s gaze on him. ‘What the hell are you staring at,’ he said rudely, ‘like I’ve got the pox or summat! And where’s yer mam?’

  ‘I’m here, Frank. Leave the lass alone.’ Behind him, Amy clung sleepily to the banister.

  Taking her roughly by the arm, he dragged her inside. ‘So! Yer couldn’t even wait up for me, eh, you lazy bitch.’

  Instinctively afraid, Amy dropped her gaze, but not Molly. As always, she stood her ground. ‘You’re drunk,’ she said in disgust.

  ‘So what! If I’m drunk it’s my money I’m spending, not yourn.’

  Drawing from Molly’s strength, Amy looked up. ‘You haven’t spent all your wages, have you, Frank?’

  ‘None of your business.’ He blundered into a chair and cursed. ‘Bloody women!’

  ‘You’ve not been gambling, have you, Frank?’ Amy said fearfully. She knew from old that gambling would take his every penny, and hers, too.

  He glared at her through bleary eyes. ‘And what if I have?’

  When he saw her face fall he jeered, ‘You’ll manage. You always do.’

  Suddenly he noticed there was no food on the table. ‘Hey! Where’s me bloody supper, eh?’ Banging his fist on the table, he screeched like a madman. ‘DID YOU HEAR WHAT I SAID, WOMAN? Move your arse and get some food on this table.’ His voice fell to a sinister tone. ‘Before I do summat I might regret.’ Already he was moving towards her.

  ‘Leave her alone, Dad.’ Molly took a step forward. ‘She’s not feeling too good.’

  ‘I don’t give a toss. She’ll get my food now! Or she’ll feel the buckle end o’ my belt, an’ no mistake.’ To make the point he began undoing the wide stiff khaki belt from around his waist.

  ‘Your dinner was kept warm for hours. It’s not Mam’s fault if it’s spoiled,’ Molly told him. ‘I’ll get you summat now. There’s eggs and bacon and a couple of sausages left over. Sit yourself down. It’ll only take a few minutes to throw it all in the frypan.’

  Out of the corner of his eye Frank regarded Molly with contempt. ‘It’s her place to look after me,’ he said, tightening the khaki belt round his knuckles. ‘You’ll stay out of it, if you know what’s good for you.’

  Undeterred by his bullying, she thrust herself between the two of them. ‘I already told you, our mam’s not well.’

  Sensing trouble, Amy intervened. ‘It’s all right, lass,’ she said. ‘Go up and see to the children.’ In a softer voice she added, ‘I expect they’re awake now.’ Frightened, too, she imagined.

  In great pain, she began to hobble towards the kitchen; not resisting when Molly eased her gently into a chair. ‘Stay where you are, Mam,’ she insisted. ‘I’ll get his meal.’

  ‘Like bloody hell you will!’ Darting forward, Frank thrust Molly aside, before wrenching Amy from her chair. Surprised when his daughter lunged at him from behind, he lashed out with the strength of an ox, sending his wife careering across the room, and Molly with her.

  Steadier now, he strode towards them, his cruel eyes fixed on Amy’s terrified face. ‘Frightened of me, are you? Well now, that’s how it should be an’ all.’ His soft laugh sent a chill through both women. ‘I expect you’ll be quick enough to get my dinner now, but you see, Amy lass, I reckon you still ain’t learned your lesson. Not by a long chalk.’ Raising a clenched fist he steadied himself to administer the punishment.

  ‘No, Dad.’ Stepping forward, Molly held out her arms. ‘Touch her and you’ll have me to deal with!’ Her blue eyes blazed with anger.

  ‘You!’ Spitting in her face, he brought his fist down on her temple. The blow seemed to lift her into the air and launch her to the far side of the room, where her head struck the corner of the sideboard, before she slithered, unconscious, to the floor.

  When he raised his foot to kick her, Amy cried out, ‘No, Frank. Leave her be, or I swear to God, you’ll be sorry!’

  Something in his wife’s frightened eyes stirred a deep-down suspicion in him. ‘“Sorry”? What does that mean, eh?’

  ‘Nothing.’ Unable to look at him any longer in case he saw the truth of what she had in mind, Amy turned away.

  Stooping, he grabbed her by the throat, and raising her face to his, asked quietly, ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean.’ She felt the colour of guilt crawling up her face and knew he had seen it.

  ‘Summat’s been going on,’ he persisted. ‘Has there been somebody ’ere?’

  Fearing for her life, Amy shook her head. ‘There’s been nobody here, Frank.’

  ‘You’re a bloody liar! There’s guilt written all over your lying face! Who were it, eh? Some fancy man you intend running off with? Is that what you meant just now when you said I’d be sorry?’ With one hand gripping her swollen midriff, he pulled the collar of her blouse until it was like a gallow rope round her neck. ‘How do I know this brat is mine?’ he demanded. ‘You coulda been playing dirty behind my back.’ As his voice rose, his spittle spattered her face. ‘Happen it weren’t me as filled yer belly after all.’

  ‘You’re wrong, Frank. This bairn is yours all right.’ More’s the pity, she thought. ‘Besides, how could I have a fancy man? I tell you, there’s been nobody here… man nor woman.’ As the words were squeezed from her throat, Amy believed they would be her last.

  ‘Filthy whore!’ Drawing her close, he sniffed her, like a dog with a bone. ‘There has been a man round yer,’ he growled. ‘I can smell the bastard!’ Raising his fist to beat the truth out of her, he was stopped by the sound of Lottie’s voice calling from the doorway.

  ‘The man came to take her away,’ she said callously. ‘They were kissing.’

  ‘What were that?’ Swinging round, he looked directly at Lottie, making her shrink away. ‘What did you say?’

  Suddenly, Amy clutched her side, her face contorted with pain. ‘Run, Lottie!’ she cried. ‘The bairn’s started. Fetch Maggie.’

  ‘You stay right where you are, my girl.’ Lumbering across the room, Frank uncurled the khaki belt. ‘You’d best tell me, you bugger, or I’ll flay the hide off yer!’ Making a grab for Lottie he swore when she turned and fled back up the stairs. ‘Come back ’ere!’ he yelled, chasing after her. Then, changing tactics, his voice softened. ‘She’ll not tell me, but you will, won’t you, lass?’

  Cajoling and smiling, he pursued his daughter to the top of the stairs, where he quickly caught her to him by the hanks of her hair. ‘We’re the same, you an’ me,’ he cooed. ‘We look out for each other. I won’t belt you, lass – not if yer tell me the truth.’ When she hesitated, the sound of his belt buckle echoed ominously against the banisters.

  Downstairs, Amy was frantic. On her hands and knees, she crawled over to Molly. ‘Are you all right, lass?’ Holding one arm across her writhing stomach, she gently shook her daughter with the other. ‘Wake up, love. For God’s sake, wake up!’ When the pain seemed to tear her apart, she screamed out, ‘Molly! Help me!’

  At first it seemed Molly couldn’t have heard. But then, with agonising slowness, she opened her eyes. ‘Mam?’ At the sight of Amy’s desperate face, a stark realisation shot through her. ‘Where is he?’

  ‘Lottie told him.’

  ‘Told him what?’ Molly was confused.

  ‘Never mind that now.’ Later she would have to confide in the girl, but not now. ‘Your dad’s gone after Lottie, but she can take care of herself. They’re two of a kind.’ Bending double, Amy gasped, ‘Dear God, I never had this sort o’ pain with you lot. It’s the bairn, lass. The bairn’s started and there’s summat wrong. I know there is.’ The pain was so bad she could hardly speak.

  Taking a minute to gather her senses, Molly noticed a thick trail of blood where Amy had crawled across the floor. ‘Be still, Mam.’ Swallowing her fear, she spoke
calmly. ‘Lie here, be very still, while I fetch Maggie. She’ll know what to do.’

  From upstairs she could hear Lottie and her dad arguing. ‘Out with it, lass! What else did he say?’ Frank meant to worm every last truth from her. But her mam was right; Lottie wasn’t afraid. Not when she thought there might be something in it for her.

  ‘Don’t be frightened, Mam.’ Laying Amy down, Molly took her coat from the door and laid it over her. ‘I’ll away and get help.’

  ‘Hold me!’ More terrified than she had ever been in her life, Amy clung to her. ‘Don’t leave me.’

  There was a sudden commotion from upstairs, then a yell and a thud close by. Scrambling to her feet, Molly was horrified to find her father lying face down at the foot of the stairs, and Lottie standing on the last step staring down with big, scared eyes. ‘He wouldn’t let me go,’ she whimpered. ‘I pushed him off… he was hurting me.’

  A swift examination revealed that Frank Tattersall wasn’t dead, nor was he injured. ‘He’s just overcome by the drink if you ask me,’ Molly said disgustedly. ‘Now then, Lottie.’ She forced her voice to remain calm so as not to panic the girl. ‘I want you to run and fetch Maggie as quick as you can.’ From behind them, Amy’s cries grew louder. ‘Tell her she’s to come straight away because the bairn’s on the way and there’s summat wrong. Run as fast as you can now.’

  With that she tugged her sister from the step and propelled her towards the front door and out into the cold, dark night. ‘Tell her what I said. The bairn’s on the way, an’ Mam says it doesn’t feel right!’ She called the same instructions time and again, before returning to the parlour.

  ‘It’s all right, Mam,’ she murmured, stroking Amy’s head. ‘Maggie’s on her way.’

  * * *

  By the time Lottie returned bringing Maggie with her, Amy was in a terrible state.

  ‘She’s losing so much blood, Maggie.’ Molly was frantic. ‘I don’t know what to do.’ Cross-legged on the floor, she held her mother, who was nearly unconscious, in her arms.