back, legs stretched out. Still he didn’t look at her.
‘No – I don’t know what our mom’d do without me close by. And Ned’s been ever so good – says ’e’d live anywhere to be with me.’ Mary smiled at him adoringly.
Polly got up and refilled the teapot. Jess watched, saw Polly holding her shoulders stiffly. As she came back to the table she looked directly at Jess. See? her expression said. No good you getting any thoughts in that direction. But then she noticed that Olive had suddenly closed her eyes and sat back as if overcome by dizziness. Jess saw Polly exchange a worried glance with Sis.
‘You awright, Auntie?’ Ned leaned towards her.
Olive opened her eyes, dazed for a second, then took a deep breath. ‘Oh ar – I’ll be awright. You carry on.’ She held out her cup for tea, shaking her head to dislodge the flashes of memory which had appeared in there, unbidden.
Jess held Ronny tight with one arm, looking down and stroking his soft little legs. She felt as if she was in a dream, one in which she was in a familiar place but everything in it felt wrong.
You’re so stupid! she raged at herself in her head. You can’t work up any feelings for the man who was given you on a plate, and now you’re all of a flutter over someone who’s married to someone else! Just stop acting so daft and get ’im out of your head, for God’s sake!
She looked up again, sensing a movement beside her. Ned was leaning forward, playing a game with Ronny.
‘I’m gunna ’ave that!’ He tweaked at Ronny’s nose, then held his thumb trapped between two fingers. Jess saw that he had wide, flat nails. She could smell him, soap, leather, sweat, breathed him in. ‘Look – ’ere it is. I’ve got it – want it back?’
Ronny looked at him open mouthed for a second, put his hand up to his nose, then gurgled with laughter.
‘There yer go – back on!’
He pretended to give the little boy his nose back. As he touched the child’s face he looked at Jess for a second, laughing. She smiled back, but Ned turned, abruptly.
‘We’d better be going, Auntie. You ready, Mary?’
As they left, Olive stood on the step waving them down the street. She turned to come inside, still smiling.
‘Lovely couple, ain’t they?’ she said. ‘’E’s done really nicely for ’imself there.’
A few days later, when everyone was out, except the babby, Ronny, Olive stood in her house, her thoughts agonized. It was getting worse. Some days she was all right. Normal. But days like today were terrible. Memories rushing back at her like a flock of ravens flying into her mind. Things she had avoided thinking about for years, as if some cavity in her had opened, spilling over.
‘It’s no good – I can’t carry on like this . . .’ Hearing her speak, Ronny looked up from his seat on the floor where he was playing with a handful of pegs.
For a moment she stared at him, distracted. So like his father he was! Her face contorted with bitterness. The child couldn’t help it, but by God she would rue his existence to the end of her days. A few moments of weakness, of need. Carried away – her, Olive Beeston carried away by sweet talk and a man’s fumblings! If she’d known anyone else be so bloody stupid she’d’ve soon told ’em . . .
With trembling, clammy hands she pulled open the little drawstring bag she kept tucked in her pocket and counted through her change. She turned over the coins, counting and recounting with the sense of wonder that came to her whenever she handled money. It still seemed a miracle when they brought their earnings home. Polly, Bert, Sis – and Jess was bringing in a small amount . . . They had enough now with four earning! Not a princely amount, but enough.
Her days of bone freezing poverty never left her. Worrying about every farthing, not even having enough on many a day for a half pail of slack for the fire, Polly and Bert slinking down the canal to pinch it off the barges, begging
‘No – I don’t know what our mom’d do without me close by. And Ned’s been ever so good – says ’e’d live anywhere to be with me.’ Mary smiled at him adoringly.
Polly got up and refilled the teapot. Jess watched, saw Polly holding her shoulders stiffly. As she came back to the table she looked directly at Jess. See? her expression said. No good you getting any thoughts in that direction. But then she noticed that Olive had suddenly closed her eyes and sat back as if overcome by dizziness. Jess saw Polly exchange a worried glance with Sis.
‘You awright, Auntie?’ Ned leaned towards her.
Olive opened her eyes, dazed for a second, then took a deep breath. ‘Oh ar – I’ll be awright. You carry on.’ She held out her cup for tea, shaking her head to dislodge the flashes of memory which had appeared in there, unbidden.
Jess held Ronny tight with one arm, looking down and stroking his soft little legs. She felt as if she was in a dream, one in which she was in a familiar place but everything in it felt wrong.
You’re so stupid! she raged at herself in her head. You can’t work up any feelings for the man who was given you on a plate, and now you’re all of a flutter over someone who’s married to someone else! Just stop acting so daft and get ’im out of your head, for God’s sake!
She looked up again, sensing a movement beside her. Ned was leaning forward, playing a game with Ronny.
‘I’m gunna ’ave that!’ He tweaked at Ronny’s nose, then held his thumb trapped between two fingers. Jess saw that he had wide, flat nails. She could smell him, soap, leather, sweat, breathed him in. ‘Look – ’ere it is. I’ve got it – want it back?’
Ronny looked at him open mouthed for a second, put his hand up to his nose, then gurgled with laughter.
‘There yer go – back on!’
He pretended to give the little boy his nose back. As he touched the child’s face he looked at Jess for a second, laughing. She smiled back, but Ned turned, abruptly.
‘We’d better be going, Auntie. You ready, Mary?’
As they left, Olive stood on the step waving them down the street. She turned to come inside, still smiling.
‘Lovely couple, ain’t they?’ she said. ‘’E’s done really nicely for ’imself there.’
A few days later, when everyone was out, except the babby, Ronny, Olive stood in her house, her thoughts agonized. It was getting worse. Some days she was all right. Normal. But days like today were terrible. Memories rushing back at her like a flock of ravens flying into her mind. Things she had avoided thinking about for years, as if some cavity in her had opened, spilling over.
‘It’s no good – I can’t carry on like this . . .’ Hearing her speak, Ronny looked up from his seat on the floor where he was playing with a handful of pegs.
For a moment she stared at him, distracted. So like his father he was! Her face contorted with bitterness. The child couldn’t help it, but by God she would rue his existence to the end of her days. A few moments of weakness, of need. Carried away – her, Olive Beeston carried away by sweet talk and a man’s fumblings! If she’d known anyone else be so bloody stupid she’d’ve soon told ’em . . .
With trembling, clammy hands she pulled open the little drawstring bag she kept tucked in her pocket and counted through her change. She turned over the coins, counting and recounting with the sense of wonder that came to her whenever she handled money. It still seemed a miracle when they brought their earnings home. Polly, Bert, Sis – and Jess was bringing in a small amount . . . They had enough now with four earning! Not a princely amount, but enough.
Her days of bone freezing poverty never left her. Worrying about every farthing, not even having enough on many a day for a half pail of slack for the fire, Polly and Bert slinking down the canal to pinch it off the barges, begging
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