Mother’s Ruin Page 7
Sally refrained from pointing out that she’d already suggested they buy a house locally. ‘If you use all our savings, what would we do for money?’
‘Joe and I are going to pay ourselves a small wage until the houses are sold, but it’ll be nothing like the money we’re used to. It’ll be enough to pay the rent on a small flat, but we’ll need to pull our horns in.’
‘It sounds like you’ve already made up your mind.’
‘Yes, I have, but I’d like to think you’re with me in this.’ Sally began to realise how lucky they had been. Arthur was well paid and they had never had to worry about money. Now, for the first time, she would have to economise. Well, she’d had a good teacher in her mother and though she had never had to resort to it, she knew how to make nourishing meals from cheap cuts of meat. Not only that, Elsie had been supportive of Bert when he had started up the removals business, and she would do the same. ‘If this is what you really want to do, then yes, I’m with you.’
Sally was rewarded by the way Arthur’s face lit up as he hugged her. ‘I’ll tell my father tomorrow, clear it with him and then tell Joe.’
When Arthur undressed and climbed into bed, Sally snuggled into his arms. There’d be no lovemaking while they remained here, but with any luck she’d shortly find the perfect flat close by.
Chapter Nine
Ruth had seen how upset Sally was and couldn’t sleep that night. She lay awake, wondering what Arthur was up to, but then heard someone shouting outside in the lane, followed by a door slamming.
It was probably that lot next door, Ruth decided, closing her eyes again. The room felt clammy, airless and she wondered if there was a storm brewing. With an impatient sigh, she threw back her blankets and padded to the window to open it a little wider.
Ruth was just about to return to her bed when she heard a faint noise that sounded like muffled sobs. Puzzled, she looked up and down the lane. At first she saw nothing, but then, in the dim light from a street lamp, Ruth saw a small figure sitting on the kerb, feet in the gutter. A child! What was a child doing outside after midnight?
Careful not to make any noise, Ruth threw on her dressing gown to go out into the lane. Shocked, she saw that the small figure sitting hunched in a thin jumper was Tommy Walters, his head bent as Ruth approached. ‘Tommy, what on earth are you doing out here at this time of night?’
‘Me muvver chucked me out,’ he said, cuffing his face with his sleeve to wipe away tears.
Ruth found herself angry. What sort of mother threw a child onto the streets? ‘Why, Tommy?’
‘’Cos of me bonfire.’
‘I don’t understand. That happened earlier so why wait until now to throw you out?’
His thin shoulders lifted in a shrug. ‘She’s had a few more bottles of cider, that’s why, and she gave me a right old belting too.’
‘Come on,’ Ruth said, holding out her hand. ‘I think it’s time for you to go indoors and I’ll have a few words to say to your mother.’
‘No, missus!’ he cried, scrambling to his feet. ‘You can’t do that. She’ll go mad.’
‘I can’t leave you out here all night.’
Tommy straightened his shoulders, now saying bravely, ‘I’ll be all right. I’ll wait until she’s asleep, me dad too, and then I’ll sneak back in.’
‘Have you got a key?’
‘Nah, of course not, but me bedroom’s at the back. I can climb over the wall into the yard and then shin up the drainpipe.’
‘But you might fall,’ Ruth said, horrified by the danger.
‘Course I won’t. It’s a piece of cake and I’ve done it loads of times.’
Ruth shivered, clutching her dressing gown closer to her body as she eyed Tommy’s inadequate clothing. All right, the boy had lit a bonfire in their backyard, but it didn’t warrant being thrown out. Despite Tommy’s protests she wanted to give the woman a piece of her mind and said, ‘No, you’re not climbing drainpipes. Come on, we’re going to knock on your door.’
‘No! No, don’t do that! If you do, I – I’ll run away.’
Ruth could see the fear in the boy’s eyes and hear it in his voice. She touched his shoulder. ‘All right, but it’s freezing out here so you had better come into my house for the time being.’
All might have been well, but as they stepped inside, Sadie came out of her room. In other circumstances her appearance might have been comical as she stood, her blue hairnet askew and her dressing gown gaping to reveal a long, flannelette nightdress. Toothless, and lisping, she demanded, ‘Why are you bringing that hooligan in here again and at this time of night?’
‘Because his mother chucked him out.’
‘Yeah, well, after what he’s been up to he deserves it. Now get him out of my house.’
‘No, Mum. I’m not leaving him on the streets.’
‘But look at the state of him. He’s probably alive with fleas and as I said, I want him out of my house.’
‘This isn’t your house, Mum, it’s mine, and I’ll say who comes in and out of it.’
‘Don’t you dare talk to me like that!’
Ignoring the indignant look on Sadie’s face, Ruth spoke to Tommy. ‘Go into the kitchen and I’ll find you a bite to eat.’
‘What! You’re going to feed the little bugger too?’
‘It’s all right. I don’t want nuffin’,’ Tommy said, his eyes glistening with tears.
‘Go into the kitchen,’ Ruth urged again, giving him a gentle shove. When he was out of sight she turned back to her mother. ‘He’s only two years older than Angela and I’d like to think that if she was in trouble, someone would help her. Now go back to bed, Mum, and keep your nose out of it.’
Perhaps it was something her mother saw in her face, Ruth didn’t know, but instead of arguing Sadie huffed loudly. ‘Sod you then. Do what you like.’
Ruth went into the kitchen and in no time she had cut a doorstep of bread, spreading it liberally with margarine and strawberry jam. With a reassuring smile she gave it to Tommy, and wide-eyed he took it, cramming it hurriedly into his mouth as though scared it would be snatched away again. ‘’Cor thanks, missus. That was bleedin’ lovely.’
Tommy was perched on the edge of the sofa, his face pinched with cold and Ruth’s heart ached for him. She poured him a cup of milk and then sat beside him, her questions gentle. ‘Do you get many beltings, Tommy?’
‘Nah, most of the time I keep out of my muvver’s way.’
‘What about your dad?’
‘He’s all right. When he’s had a skinful he just goes to sleep.’ Seven, he’s only seven, Ruth thought, yet already he sounded so streetwise. She was about to offer him another slice of bread when she saw him sinking back into the sofa, his eyelids drooping. As he drifted off to sleep Ruth studied his face, finding that in sleep he looked so sweet and innocent.
Ruth stood up and taking her cigarette packet from the mantel- piece she lit one, taking a deep drag. There was something about Tommy that drew her to him, and seeing an old blanket on her mother’s chair she gently tucked it around the child. He stirred, but didn’t wake and she decided to let him stay. Sally wouldn’t be happy to see him there in the morning, nor would her mother, but there was no way Ruth was going to turn the boy out to climb drainpipes in the dark.
Once again Ruth studied the boy’s face and found that there was something about him that tugged at her maternal instincts. The poor kid. What a life he had, with both parents it seemed fonder of booze than their son. What sort of future did Tommy have? Not much of one, Ruth decided, but there was little she could do about it. She stubbed out her cigarette, lay down on the sofa, and tired now Ruth joined Tommy in sleep.
Sally woke the following morning and stretched, aware of sounds drifting up from the kitchen. Her mother must be up already and soon after Arthur and Angel stirred. It was Sunday morning and usually leisurely but Angel seemed anxious to go downstairs.
Unwilling to get up just yet, Sally helped her daughter into her
dressing gown and let her go, but shortly after Angel was back again. ‘Mummy, Daddy, come and see who slept here last night!’
Sally now threw on her dressing gown, but Arthur said, ‘If we’ve got company I’d best get dressed first.’
Puzzled about their overnight visitor, Sally wasn’t pleased to see that it was Tommy Walters. He was perched at the table, tucking into a bowl of cereal, his ragged clothes rumpled. Hissing at her mother, Sally asked, ‘What’s he doing here?’
‘His mother chucked him out. I found him outside after midnight so I let him sleep on the sofa.’
‘She threw him out! But he’s only a child.’
‘I know, and if you ask me Laura Walters is a bloody disgrace. She isn’t fit to be a mother.’
Angel scrambled onto a chair beside Tommy, grinning as she said, ‘Tommy, I knew you’d be here. I had a dream that you were living with us,’ and then looking at Ruth she asked, ‘Can he stay forever now, Nanny?’
‘Well now, I don’t know about that, ducks.’
‘No, of course he can’t,’ Sally said and moving closer to her mother she whispered, ‘I think you should report what happened to Tommy. Anything could have happened to him if he’d been left on the streets and his mother needs sorting out.’
‘No, Sally, if I make waves Tommy might end up in care.’
‘Yes, care, and that’s what he’d get instead of neglect.’
‘I don’t want the poor kid to be shoved in a kids’ home. I’ll have a strong word with his mother, and I’ll also keep an eye on him from now on.’
‘But . . .’
‘Shut up about it, Sally,’ she said, then smiled at Tommy. ‘Now lad, would you like some more cereal?’
‘Yes please, missus,’ he said with a wonky-toothed grin. ‘I bleedin’ well told her she shouldn’t bring him in here,’ Sadie said as she stepped into the room, her face set in disapproval.
Arthur appeared as well, looking surprised to see the lad, but unlike Sadie, he smiled. ‘Hello, young man, and what are you doing here?’
‘Me muvver chucked me out and she,’ he said pointing at Ruth, ‘fetched me in here.’
‘She,’ Arthur gently admonished, ‘is Mrs Marchant. Now tell me, why did your mother throw you out?’
‘’Cos of me bleedin’ bonfire, but it wasn’t that bad and didn’t set our house on fire.’
Arthur roared with laughter, obviously finding the boy amusing, but Sally’s lips were pursed in an expression of disapproval. ‘Don’t swear, Tommy.’
‘Swear? But I didn’t swear.’
‘Yes you did. You said, bleeding.’
‘But that ain’t swearing, and she just said it,’ he protested, looking at Sadie. ‘Now if I’d said fu—’
‘Don’t you dare!’ Sally cried before the boy had time to finish. ‘Where on earth did you learn such bad language?’
‘Me dad says it all the time. He calls me a little bugger too.’
Arthur roared with laughter again, but Sally’s smile was thin and once again she spoke quietly to her mother. ‘I don’t like Angel hearing this bad language. Look at her. She’s drinking in every word that Tommy comes out with.’
‘I know, but you’ve got to feel sorry for the boy,’ and turning to Tommy she said, ‘Come on, love. It’s time you went home. I’ll come with you.’
‘No, no, there’s no need for that,’ Tommy said as he hastily stood up to make a run for the front door, calling out as though on an afterthought, ‘Fanks for ’aving me.’
The door slammed, followed by silence for a few moments, and then Ruth said, ‘It was nice that he thanked me. He’s not such a bad kid really.’
‘How can you say that, Mum? You heard his appalling language.’
‘You can’t blame the boy for that. He’s only repeating what he hears at home.’
‘I feel sorry for Tommy, but I still don’t want Angel mixing with him.’
‘Mummy, I like him,’ Angel protested.
‘Like him or not, I want you to stay away from him.’
‘Sally, you should listen to yourself,’ Ruth commented. ‘You sound as snobbish as your Aunt Mary. Tommy is no different from the other kids around here.’
‘I know that, and I don’t want her mixing with them either.’
‘Both you and Arthur grew up in Candle Lane and it didn’t do you any harm. Now you act as though the place isn’t good enough for you.’
‘There weren’t children like Tommy Walters around then.’
‘Yes, there were, but you seem to have a selective memory. As for bad language, Angel has heard swearing before, and mainly from my mother, but she hasn’t picked it up.’
‘Here, Ruth, you swear too,’ Sadie protested, ‘yet Sally has a point, neither of us use the f word.’
‘You always take her side,’ Ruth complained.
‘Look, the boy’s gone home so can we drop the subject now,’ Arthur said. ‘We have something else to talk about, something we want to tell you.’
‘Spit it out then,’ Sadie ordered.
Sally left it to Arthur, her mother saying nothing until he came to the part about moving into a place of their own. Sally braced herself as her mother turned to look at her, saying worriedly, ‘But what about your gran? Who is going to look after her?’
‘I’ll still come here every day. When you come home from work, you can take over and I’ll go home.’
Sadie commented, ‘It’s about time you found your own place again, and I don’t see why you’d have to come here every day. I don’t need looking after any more. I keep telling you that.’
‘I don’t mind, Gran, and I’m going to look after you until the doctor gives you the all clear.’
‘He’s an old fusspot and hell might freeze over before he does that.’
‘Are you trying to get rid of me?’ Sally asked, trying to introduce a bit of lightness into the conversation.
‘Of course not, you silly mare.’
‘What’s a silly mare, Gamma?’ asked Angel. ‘It’s a funny horse, me darling.’
‘Can I have one?’
Arthur picked Angel up and swung her high before putting her down again, laughing as he said, ‘If you ever have a horse of your own, you won’t want a silly one. Now, Sally, how about feeding me? After that I’m off to see my dad to break the news and it’s not something I’m looking forward to.’
‘He isn’t going to like it,’ Sadie observed. ‘Are you sure you’re doing the right thing? You’ve got security working for your father and it isn’t something to be sniffed at.’
Sally hadn’t realised how unhappy Arthur had been, and though she knew her gran was right, she was once again determined to support Arthur in his decision. She began to cook his breakfast but suddenly a cold shiver ran up her spine and her hands shook.
Something was going to happen, something terrible she was sure, and Sally’s eyes shot to her gran. Was she in danger?
Chapter Ten
Arthur drove to Wimbledon wondering if he should delay telling his father. His hands were tight on the steering wheel, but he wouldn’t wait, he’d get it over with, and at least this way there’d be nobody at the yard to overhear what might turn into a heated argument.
As he parked in his parents’ drive, Arthur’s eyes roamed over the house, appreciating why they had chosen it. The mellow red bricks added warmth to the facade and though the front garden was bleak now, he knew that in the summer it would be ablaze with his mother’s favourite flowers.
Arthur rang the bell to see that his mother looked harassed. He could hear the sound of children screaming with laughter and shortly after he saw his nephews tumbling into the hall. The terrible twins, he thought, grinning. No wonder his mother looked frazzled.
Ann, his sister, chased behind them and seeing him her face lit up. ‘Arthur, how lovely, but where are Sally and Angela?’
‘Back in Battersea. I’ve only called in for a quick word with Dad,’ Arthur said, thinking that after the trendy clothe
s she used to wear, his sister now looked almost matronly. ‘If we had known you were here, Sally would have insisted on coming.’
‘It’s a surprise visit. Mum wasn’t expecting me.’
There was an awful howl, and then Bert’s loud bellow, ‘Darren, Jason, stop that!’
Arthur saw that they had a hold of the cat’s tail, its hackles up. They let it go and the cat hissed at them before running off. ‘It would have served you right it he had scratched you,’ Bert told them, but then he smiled at Arthur. ‘Hello, son. What brings you here today?
‘I want to talk to you, but with this lot around I don’t think there’s a hope in hell.’
‘We’ll go to my study, and woe betide you lot,’ he said with a mock frown, ‘if you disturb us.’
‘Surely whatever it is can wait until you’ve had a cup of coffee,’ Elsie protested.
‘Of course it can,’ Arthur said, finding that now the moment had arrived he was relieved to put it off for a while.
His mother’s usually immaculate sitting room was strewn with toys, but it didn’t seem to bother her as she smiled happily at her grandchildren. ‘What a shame that Angel isn’t with you. She’d have loved to see her cousins.’
‘Yes, and I’d have loved to see Sally,’ Ann said. ‘She’s my best friend but I hardly see her these days.’
‘Well, you chose to move out to the sticks, sis.’
‘I know, but it wouldn’t hurt you to drive her down to see us more often.’
‘Give me a break. I only have Sundays off and by then I’m sick of driving.’
‘It isn’t that far and you know my husband can’t drive.’
‘Then it’s about time he took lessons.’
‘You drove here to see Dad.’
‘Only because I need to talk to him. It isn’t for pleasure.’
‘Now then, you two, if you don’t stop this will turn into an argument. Arthur, can I get you something to eat with your coffee?’
‘No thanks, Mum. I had a big breakfast before I left.’