A Sister’s Sorrow

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‘Hello, Mr Sayers,’ Sarah called, waving eagerly.

The man stood up and arched himself backwards as he squinted into the sun to see her. ‘Hello, love. I thought you might come down today so I’ve just been digging up some lovely rhubarb for you. Come and have a look at this! I can’t believe how big it’s grown, especially after all that snow we had a couple of months back!’

Sarah had heard of rhubarb but she’d never eaten it. She looked at the red and green stalks with a dubious expression on her face.

‘Boil it up in a saucepan, that’s all you have to do. With these blinking rations, I doubt you’ve got any sugar, but if you have, sprinkle a bit on, and there you have it, stewed rhubarb. You’ll love it, and so will the boy,’ Mr Sayers said, and handed Sarah the fresh fruit before looking into the pram at Tommy, who greeted the toothless old man with an equally gummy grin. ‘Blimey, he’s getting big.’

‘Yes, he is, and I think it’s time he came off the milk, so I’ll give him a bit of this rhubarb later. Thank you.’

‘Sarah, come and sit down, pet. There’s something I need to tell you.’

She noticed a troubled expression on Mr Sayers’ lined face, and instantly her heart began to pound in anticipation of bad news. She sat on a rickety bench and watched with concern as he slowly lowered himself down beside her. His back must be playing up again, she thought, wishing there was more she could do to help the dear old man. His wife had passed away many years ago, and now Mr Sayers rented a room in a house owned by an elderly couple. The rent was reasonably cheap and was supported by the fruit and vegetables he supplied, and though it was not ideal, he always said he was happy enough, although his landlady was a mean-spirited miser. He’d once told Sarah he was even charged extra for using the shed. On a few occasions, Sarah had helped Mr Sayers carry his tools back to the shed, but she’d never been invited into the house.

Mr Sayers took Sarah’s hand, and sighed a long, deep breath. Though his palms were calloused, she noticed the papery skin covering the back of his hands, and could feel him shaking.

‘What is it, Mr Sayers?’

‘Thing is, Sarah … well, I’m an old man and I’ve had a good innings. I’ve seen five kings and queens come and go, and I’ve lived through two World Wars. But my time’s about up and it won’t be long before I’ll be seeing my Dulcie again.’

Sarah knew Mr Sayers’ wife had been called Dulcie, but she was dead.

‘I don’t understand …’ she muttered, praying it wasn’t what she thought.

‘I ain’t going to mince my words, so I’ll tell you straight … I’m dying, love. The doctor says I’ve got this blinking disease that’s gonna finish me off within a few months.’

At the thought of losing her substitute granddad, Sarah instantly felt tears welling up in her eyes. Mr Sayers was such a caring, sweet man, and as most of her old schoolfriends now shunned her, he was pretty much the only friend she had. He couldn’t be dying – it wasn’t fair!

‘Now, now, now … we can’t have any of that sad stuff. Like I said, I’ve had a good and long life, but I’ve missed my Dulcie. It’ll be good to be with her again.’

Sarah pulled her hand away from Mr Sayers’ and wiped her snotty nose with the cuff of her sleeve. ‘But … but … but I’ll miss you!’ she blurted out.

Mr Sayers shuffled further along the bench and placed his arm around Sarah’s shoulders.

‘I’m sorry, pet. There’s nothing I can do about it. Death is a part of life and comes to us all eventually. I didn’t want to tell you, but I had to ’cos I won’t be coming up here no more. It’s getting a bit much for me now. Come on, stop crying, you’ll upset young Tommy …’

Sarah heaved in a juddering breath and looked into Mr Sayers’ grey, watery eyes. ‘So … is this the last time I’ll see you? No, it can’t be! Let me come and look after you … please …’

‘You can’t, love. My son and his wife are coming to pick me up tomorrow morning. They’re taking me to live out my days with them in a town up north called Liverpool,’ said Mr Sayers, then chuckled before adding, ‘It ain’t my cup of tea – they talk funny up there! Cor, you should hear the way my daughter-in-law sounds. Still, it’s for the best, I suppose.’

Sarah threw her arms around the old man, sobbing hard. Mr Sayers was like the granddad she’d never had, and her heart was breaking at the thought of never seeing him again.

‘You’ve got to be a brave girl. No more tears,’ he said, and gently eased himself away from her.

‘I’m sorry,’ Sarah said as she tried to pull herself together. ‘Can I walk back through the park with you?’

‘Of course you can, though when we get to the gates, I don’t want any of this mushy long goodbye stuff … just a quick wave and a “see you later”. OK?’

‘All right,’ Sarah reluctantly agreed. She knew she was going to mourn Mr Sayers for a long time to come. As they walked through the park, she wondered what would happen to him. If he really was going to see his Dulcie again, would he be able to get a message to her dead brother?

Chapter 5 (#u1a90d826-4cce-5707-b4d6-70a8b73218f0)

Annie drew a long breath on the roll-up she’d made from old dog-ends that Sarah had collected off the streets. She sat at the kitchen table, irritated at the thought that at any minute the front door would fly open and her children would be home.

Eddy had just left and given her a jug of beer. She poured some into a tin cup and drank quickly in the hope of getting rid of the disgusting taste he’d left. She hadn’t wanted him to finish in her mouth but he’d forcefully held her head to his manhood and had almost choked her. She had thought of biting down, that would have taught the bugger a lesson, but then he’d have been annoyed with her and wouldn’t have given her the beer. So, with little choice, she’d been compliant, but if he wanted that again, she’d demand gin next time.

‘Hello, Mum,’ Sarah said, sounding subdued as she came in, holding Tommy in one arm and a bunch of rhubarb in the other.

Annie managed a grunt, but she couldn’t be bothered to get into a conversation with the girl. Tommy flashed her a wide smile. The brazen little brat, she thought as she glared at him, and was pleased to see him turn his head and bury it in Sarah’s shoulder.

‘I don’t suppose you’ve had anything to eat, have you, Mum?’ Sarah asked.

Annie didn’t bother to answer.

‘I’ll take that as a no then. I’m making me and Tommy some stewed rhubarb. Do you want some?’

Annie rolled her eyes and shook her head. No, she bloody didn’t want any rhubarb. Just the thought of it made her want to heave.

‘Oh, Mum, you’ve got to eat. You’re so thin, come on, it’ll do you good.’

Here she goes again, Annie thought, her righteous daughter, nagging and mithering as usual. Annie didn’t want to hear it. She scraped her chair back, then grabbed her coat and walked to the front door.

She heard Sarah say, ‘Mum … where are you going?’ but didn’t bother to turn around.

‘Out,’ Annie snapped back. She had enough coins in her purse to visit the pub. She knew she wasn’t welcome in there, but anything was better than sitting indoors and watching her bastard son stuff his face with Sarah fussing over him. If Sarah had dumped the brat when he’d been born she wouldn’t have to keep looking at him. Every time she saw his face, she wanted to punch it in. The little bleeder looked just like his father, and that was a face she’d sooner forget.

Ten minutes later, Annie pushed open the door to the pub and was immediately hit by the smoky atmosphere. She made her way to the bar, ignoring the snide comments from men in flat caps supping on their ales.

‘A large gin, straight, and half a beer,’ Annie said to the landlord.

‘Let me see your money first, Annie,’ the man demanded.

‘You know I’m good for it, Cyril, but …’ She pulled some coins from her purse and slapped them down on the counter.

Cyril nodded and proceeded to pour her drinks, and as Annie waited, she caught sight of a woman in the mirrored wall behind the bar. The woman could have been very attractive with her long, dark hair and olive skin. Her black eyes gave her an exotic look, but she appeared old and haggard. With a jolt, Annie realised she was staring at her own reflection. She hadn’t recognised herself.

Cyril placed the drinks in front of her, and she quickly knocked back the gin. How had it come to this, she thought, looking again at the aged image of herself. Men had used and abused her as far back as she could remember, but now she thought she had the upper hand. Surely it was her using them? She was in control, sleeping with them for what she could get. Granted, it wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep a roof over her head and fill her belly with beer.

The trouble was, it had also filled her belly with three kids. Two had lived and she despised and resented them. They had different fathers, but she hated both men equally. Sarah’s dad, Ron Lyons, had been her first love. When they’d got together, he was a married man, but had promised to leave his wife and marry her. She’d been fool enough to believe him, only to be dumped at sixteen as soon as she’d told him she was pregnant. Now every time she looked at her daughter, she saw Ron’s emerald- green eyes looking back at her. As for Tommy’s dad … a shudder went down her spine when she thought of him. The man was pure evil and she regretted the day she’d ever breathed the same air as him.

Annie took a large swig of the beer and belched loudly. A short, balding man who was standing next to her offered a smile. ‘Bloody rotten, this ale. I think Cyril needs to give his pipes a good clean,’ he said with a chuckle.

Annie eyed him up and down. He looked well fed, with a paunchy stomach, and he had a good pair of shoes on, not like the other men in the bar with their work boots and braces. She noted his hands and clean finger nails. He couldn’t be a manual worker, and she guessed he probably had a few quid in his pocket.

‘Yeah, you’re right there. I should stick to the gin,’ she replied. ‘I’m Annie. I don’t think I’ve seen you in here before?’

‘Philip,’ the man answered. ‘I don’t get out much these days, but many moons ago, Cyril and I used to be in the army together.’

‘Philip, you say, like the Prince? Oh, I say, pleasure to meet you,’ Annie said, trying her best to be charming as she gave a mock curtsey.

‘Ha, yes, that’s right, though I’m no prince.’

‘Well, you look pretty dapper compared to the blokes in here,’ Annie said with a seductive smile.

‘Thank you. It’s been a long time since anyone has flattered me so I think that deserves a drink. Cyril, I’ll have another, and I think this young lady would like a large gin, if I’m not mistaken?’

‘Lady, blimey! You ain’t no prince and I ain’t no lady, but I like the “young” bit!’

‘Well, you’re a lady tonight,’ Philip said and clinked his glass against Annie’s.

‘So why don’t you get out much?’ she asked.

‘It’s the wife. She’s ill, bedridden in fact, so I spend a lot of time looking after her.’

‘Oh, I see. I bet it’s been a while since you’ve had a bit of fun then?’ Annie asked as pound signs flashed in front of her eyes.

Philip looked a bit taken aback and laughed before he answered. ‘I suppose it has.’

‘Don’t be shy with me, Philip. I’m a broad-minded lady and for the right price, I could show you a good time.’

Cyril leaned over the bar and said quietly, ‘Oi, I’ll have none of that in here, Annie. I’ve warned you about it before. Either stop touting for business or sling your hook.’

Philip intervened, saying equally quietly, ‘Don’t be like that, Cyril. Annie seems like a lovely lady and was only offering to keep me company.’

‘If you say so,’ Cyril answered cynically, ‘but if there’s any funny business going on, I’d prefer it not to be under my roof.’

‘Tell you what, Philip, how about we go back to my place,’ Annie offered, loud enough for Cyril to hear. ‘It ain’t posh, far from it, but it’ll stop that nosy bugger sticking his beak in.’

‘I think that’s a smashing idea. Lead the way,’ Philip replied, and then gave Cyril a wink.

Once outside, Annie took Philip’s hand and almost dragged him across the road towards the tenement blocks. They stopped at the bottom of the stairs, and in the dim light she said, ‘This is gonna cost you, and I want the money up front.’

‘How much?’ Philip asked, his voice husky.

‘Call it a quid and I’ll make sure you have the time of your life.’

Philip took the note from a wad in his pocket and handed Annie the money. ‘How about we do it here?’ he urged as he pushed himself against her.

‘No, someone might see us.’

Annie took Philip’s hand again and led him up the stairs. As they got to the top, she noticed he was panting for breath. ‘You all right?’ she asked. ‘’Cos if you ain’t up to a bit of how’s your father, I’m warning you now that I don’t do refunds.’

‘Don’t you worry about me, I’ll be fine.’

Annie wasn’t convinced as she could see Philip was perspiring profusely, but the man followed her into the flat. She took off her coat and scowled at her daughter, saying, ‘Go on, bugger off for an hour and take the brat with you.’

Sarah was sitting cross-legged on her mattress with Tommy beside her, and instead of doing what she was told, she pulled her blanket closer. ‘But, Mum, it’s dark and cold outside, and Tommy’s asleep. Where are we supposed to go?’

‘That ain’t my problem. Just clear off, will ya!’ Annie snapped, her temper rising at her daughter’s stupid question.

‘Hang on a minute, Annie, you can’t expect the girl to wander the streets in this weather. It’s starting to rain,’ Philip said as he eyed Sarah.

‘Oh, yeah, so you want an audience, do you?’ Annie asked.

‘No … Look, I’m having second thoughts. I don’t think this is such a good idea,’ he said. ‘Maybe we should call it a night?’

‘That’s up to you, but like I told you downstairs, I don’t do refunds.’

‘Fine, keep my money. It looks like you need it,’ the man said as he made a hasty retreat for the door. ‘You dirty cow!’

The door slammed shut behind Philip, and Annie laughed. ‘That was the easiest quid I’ve ever made.’

‘It’s not funny, Mum. I wish you wouldn’t bring all these men back here.’

Annie’s face hardened as she glared at her daughter. ‘Do you now? Well, let me tell you something – if it wasn’t for me selling myself, you’d be on the streets, you and that brother of yours. So if I was you, I’d keep me mouth shut and stop bloody complaining!’

Annie slumped onto one of the kitchen chairs, angry with Sarah and thinking what a blinking cheek the girl had. She knew she wasn’t a great mother but her daughter didn’t know the half of it! She’d always provided a roof over her head and protected her from stinking, rotten men. In the past, she’d had some of her customers wanting Sarah too, but Annie had always denied them. She didn’t care much for her children, but she wouldn’t allow her daughter to have the same haunting memories she’d carried throughout her own life. The girl was lucky, thought Annie, and she shuddered at the recollection of her so-called father lying on top of her.

She walked over to the sink and grabbed the jug of beer before sitting at the table and downing a cupful. The smooth liquid calmed her, and after another cupful, the room became blurry. She looked at her daughter. The girl was pretty, like she’d once been before years of drinking had ravaged her. She thought Sarah could have a better life than she’d had, but first she’d need to impart some of her wisdom.

Sarah was horrified by her mother’s attitude, but wasn’t surprised. She was used to men coming and going at all times of the day and night. Mostly, her mother would give her the nod and she’d wait outside in the corridor. Sometimes, Annie would bring a man home when Sarah was in bed, so she’d pretend to be asleep and plug her ears with her fingers to block out the horrid grunts and noises.

‘Sarah, get yourself over here, and cheer up. You’ve got a face like a smacked arse,’ Annie said as she poured a cup of beer from the jug. ‘’Ere, get this down your neck, and don’t say I never give you nothing.’

Sarah was astounded. Her mother’s beer was so precious to her and she’d never shared it before. ‘Thanks, Mum,’ she said as she took a swig of the alcohol. It didn’t taste anything like Sarah was expecting, and she grimaced, the bitterness almost making her gag. She couldn’t understand why her mother enjoyed it so much.

‘Give it back if you don’t bloody like it,’ her mum said, snatching the cup from her hand. She then heaved a sigh. ‘I know you think I’m a bad mother, and, well, I admit I could have done more for you, but you don’t know what it’s been like for me. I don’t want you having the same shitty life I’ve had, so I want you to promise me one thing …’

Sarah stared wide-eyed at her mother. She had never sat her down and spoken to her before, not like this, without yelling or criticising her. She quickly nodded her head, wondering what her mum would make her promise to do.

‘Sarah, you’re all grown up now, and you’ll be having men after you soon. I’m telling you, don’t trust any of them! They’re all pigs, the bloody lot of them. Stay away from them, but, most of all, keep your legs shut.’

Sarah blinked hard. She knew what her mother meant about her legs, but if that’s how her mum felt, why did she so readily have sex with all and sundry? She daren’t ask. ‘OK, I promise,’ Sarah replied, and tried to smile at her mother.

‘Good, now get out of my sight, and don’t you ever show me up like that in front of a bloke again!’

Sarah scampered back to her mattress, almost relieved to hear her mum scolding her again as she’d found that little chat unnerving. She snuggled in close to Tommy and pulled the thin blanket up under her chin.

Thoughts of Mr Sayers floated through her mind, and a tear dropped from her eye. It was hard to accept that she’d never see him again. She’d miss him, and the fruit and vegetables he supplied. She’d have to get her thinking cap on, or she and Tommy would be going hungry.