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‘You should rub a little grease on it afterwards,’ he advised, ‘and bind it up with a bit of clean linen. And look, your lip is bleeding.’
‘Don’t worry, it will be all right,’ I said. ‘Was there something you wanted, Mr Phillips?’
‘No, no, it doesn’t matter,’ he said. ‘I was meaning to talk to Mrs O’Rourke but it will keep.’ He turned and went out of the kitchen with a glance of disgust for Mam.
She started on at me the minute she heard the front door shut behind him. ‘If he leaves we shall end up in the workhouse,’ she said and glared at me. ‘And it will be all your fault, Bridget.’
I was at the sink, plunging my hand in a bowl of cold water. The sting was beginning to go and I realized that I had been lucky – the water in the kettle had been hot but not at boiling point. I turned to look at her as I dried my hand.
‘I do my best to help you, Mam,’ I said. ‘But Tommy comes first with me. I don’t care what you do or say to me, but the minute you lay a finger on him we’ll be out of this house and you can manage for yourself.’
‘Get yourself out of my sight. Find yourself some work to do.’
‘I never stop working,’ I said as rebellion flared. ‘I’m going next door to talk to Maggie.’
‘You come back here! You’ll feel the back of me hand, girl!’
I ignored her and went out without speaking again. As I emerged into the street I saw Fred Pearce trundling by with his cart. He smiled and waved at me. I waved back, holding on to the tears that threatened to overcome me.
It was a freezing cold night and there was only just over a week to Christmas now, but it would be much the same as any other day in our house. I had been saving a few pence to buy something for Tommy, but I wanted to make it special for him. Especially if it … The emotion rose up in my throat to choke me. I leaned against the wall outside Maggie’s house, weeping.
‘What’s wrong, lass?’ I hadn’t noticed Ernie Cole approaching, but as I glanced up I saw that he was offering me a red spotted handkerchief. ‘Go on, it’s clean,’ he said, giving me an uncertain look. ‘Ma washed and ironed it this mornin’.’
‘Thank you.’ I accepted it gratefully and blew my nose, gulping hard to stop myself crying. I gave him a watery smile. ‘It’s not clean now. I’d better keep it and wash it before I give it back to you.’
‘You do whatever yer want, Bridget,’ he said. ‘Ma will ring a peal over me ’ead for losin’ it, but I’ll keep me mouth shut. Is there somethin’ I can do to ’elp yer?’
His kindness and his broad cockney accent were comforting, as was the look of concern on his face. ‘There’s nothing you can do,’ I told him. ‘Tommy might be very ill – he might have to go away for a long time.’
‘I’d ’eard somethin’,’ Ernie said and looked sympathetic. ‘You mustn’t give up, Bridget. If ’e’s lucky he might get better at one of them places what they send ’em to sometimes.’
‘If he’s lucky. With our luck they’ll stick him in the infirmary and he’ll be dead within a year.’
The expression in Ernie’s eyes told me that that was his own true opinion. He took a step towards me. I moved back as he reached out for me, a thrill of fear shooting through me as I recalled the night Harry Wright had tried to rape me.
‘Don’t you dare touch me, Ernie Cole!’
The sharpness of my voice startled him. He looked surprised and then a little offended. ‘I wouldn’t hurt you,’ he said. ‘Surely you know that, Bridget? I’d cut off my right arm before I did wrong to you.’
‘I know …’ I hesitated, wanting to tell him I was sorry I had spoken so harshly, to explain what had been in my mind, but it was too shaming. ‘I am sorry, Ernie. I didn’t mean to offend you. Please leave me alone now. I have to see Maggie …’
I turned away in a fluster of embarrassment, wondering why it had disturbed me to see that hurt look in his eyes. I wasn’t going soft on him; I didn’t have time to think of courting anyone.
Four (#ua6a5f0f3-8d21-59c9-8916-5173fed1464e)
Maggie welcomed me warmly into her kitchen. It was no bigger than ours, but it always smelt of good things. She looked at me and tutted as she saw the dried blood on my lip.
‘I suppose I don’t need to ask how that happened. Martha been up to her usual tricks, has she?’
‘We had an argument over Tommy. I wasn’t quick enough at getting out of the way.’
Maggie looked savage and I knew she would have liked to have a go at Mam but didn’t want to make things worse for me. ‘I’ll make a brew. Sit yourself down and tell me what’s on your mind, love.’
‘Mam says we can’t afford to send Tommy away if he’s got the consumption. I don’t know what to do, Maggie. If he needs treatment …?’
‘Sure and wouldn’t that be the best thing for the darlin’ boy? It might do him the world of good if they sent him to one of them seaside places. The air will clean his lungs, so it will.’
‘We couldn’t afford to send him somewhere like that,’ I said. ‘He will probably finish up in the infirmary – and you know what that’s like.’ My throat felt tight as I blinked back my tears once more. ‘I can’t bear to think of him in there but I don’t want to lose him, Maggie …’
‘Ah, don’t take on so, love,’ Maggie said. ‘There’s something I heard that might help your Tommy.’
‘I could do with some help,’ I said, and blew my nose on Ernie’s handkerchief. ‘It’s daft to get myself in a state but I can’t help it, Maggie. I keep thinking about it all the time.’
‘I know what you mean. I should feel just the same if it were our Billy – or the other boys, though they’re grown up now with families of their own.’ Maggie hesitated. ‘I haven’t said anythin’ before because it’s charity and I know how you feel about that, but this is the church, Bridget. Father O’Brien sent one of the boys from Billy’s class at school to this place a few weeks ago. You don’t pay anythin’ unless you’ve got the money. It’s near the sea somewhere …’
I stared at her in silence for a few moments, my stomach churning. I wanted to say that I wouldn’t take charity but I knew I couldn’t. Charity was a dirty word in my book, but if the Catholic Church ran this one I might just be able to accept it.
‘I shall have to talk to Dr Morris. If he says Tommy has to go away to get better, I’ll speak to Father O’Brien.’
‘Tell you what. I’ve been doin’ a bit o’ sewin’ for Father O’Brien’s housekeeper. I’m takin’ it back tomorrow afternoon. I’ll ask to see him and find out a bit more about it.’
‘You’re a good friend, Maggie. You make me feel so much better.’
‘That’s what friends are for, me darlin’.’ She poured me a cup of tea. ‘Now drink that up if you can manage it, and then I’ll bathe that lip for you.’
‘Could you wrap a bandage round my hand?’ I said. ‘I spilt some hot water on it and it feels a bit sore.’
‘More of Martha’s doing?’ She frowned as she saw the red patch on the back of my hand. ‘She’s a wicked woman that mother of yours. I’m tempted to give her a piece of me mind, so I am.’
‘She’s not wicked, Maggie,’ I said. ‘Just selfish and bitter. I wish I knew why she was like it, then I might be able to feel some sympathy for her.’
‘Don’t waste your pity on her,’ Maggie said. ‘It’s you and Tommy I bother about, not Martha.’
‘I’m all right,’ I said. ‘I was just a bit upset over Tommy, that’s all. I can put up with Mam and her temper as long as he’s all right.’
‘Don’t you worry about him,’ Maggie said, trying to cheer me up. ‘It will be like a holiday for him, so it will.’
‘He would like to visit the seaside,’ I agreed. ‘He’s never been. Da took Jamie, Lainie and me once years ago – to Southend in a charabanc, but Tommy hasn’t ever seen the sea.’
‘Well, this might be a chance for him,’ Maggie said. ‘You’ll see, love. It might all turn out for the best.’
I knew she was just trying to lift my spirits and I smiled to please her, but the growing certainty that my little brother was very ill was like a lump of stone in my breast.
I decided that I would try to see Lainie the next day, even if it meant taking half an hour off work. I wanted to tell my sister that Tommy might have to go away. Even if the charity paid the costs of his treatment he was going to need a few things.
Mrs Dawson frowned when she heard me asking for time off.
‘You are being very thoughtless,’ she said after her husband had told me it was all right as long as I was quick and didn’t make a habit of it. ‘You’ve been late a couple of times recently. You should be working extra time not less.’
‘I’m sorry. I’ll stay behind tomorrow to catch up, if you like.’
‘And so I should think!’
‘It’s all right, Bridget,’ Mr Dawson said. ‘Just don’t make it a regular thing.’
‘No, sir. I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused.’
I left work the moment Mr Dawson said it was all right and ran all the way to the Sailor’s Rest. By the time I got there I was out of breath and my chest hurt.
Mrs Macpherson was behind the counter in the lobby when I went in. A seaman was settling his account and I waited until she had finished serving him before approaching her.
‘May I please see Lainie for a few minutes? I promise I won’t stop her working. I have to get back myself—’
‘I’m afraid you can’t,’ she interrupted, looking annoyed.
‘I’ve got time off work specially. It’s very important, Mrs Macpherson.’
‘I dare say it is,’ she said, a sharp note in her voice, ‘but you can’t see her because she isn’t here. She took her things and left this morning.’
‘Where did she go? Did Hans come for her?’
‘Not to my knowledge. She didn’t say where she was going. She told me she’d had a better offer and went, just like that. It didn’t matter that I would be one short in my staff, but that’s your sister all over. I’m disappointed in her, Bridget. It’s my opinion she went off with a man.’ Her mouth had gone thin and hard, her eyes cold.
‘But who? She was going to marry Hans … She cared for Hans. I know she did … Why would she go off just like that with someone else?’
‘Perhaps she had big ideas all of a sudden. Don’t ask me what your sister had in mind – and don’t ask any more questions. I’ve too much work to do to stand gossiping to you!’
She turned her back on me and went through to her office, leaving me to stare after her in bewilderment. Bridie was very angry and I sensed that there was more to it than simply being let down by a girl who worked for her.
Lainie’s sudden disappearance left me concerned as to how I would pay for my next visit to the doctor, but when I went back there just three days before Christmas he told me I wasn’t to worry.
‘You can pay me when you have the money,’ he said kindly and I could see that he was wondering how to tell me the news about Tommy. ‘I am afraid Tommy is a very sick boy, Miss O’Rourke. I suspected it last week when I examined him and the tests I did seem to indicate that he has all the early symptoms of consumption.’
‘Does that mean he’s going to die?’ I asked fearfully.
‘Because he is still at an early stage, Tommy may be treatable,’ Dr Morris said. ‘We don’t really know enough about the disease, but in some cases rest, fresh air and good food may help – none of which is available to him in his present circumstances. Your brother is seriously undernourished, Miss O’Rourke.’
‘He doesn’t always eat what I give him,’ I said, feeling hot all over. He made it sound as if we starved Tommy, but I made sure he got the best I could manage. ‘He likes fruit but we can’t often afford that …’ I took a deep breath. ‘Someone told me about a place the church runs at the seaside …’
‘That would certainly be a good idea. I am afraid I can only offer the infirmary – unless you can find the money to send him away yourself.’
‘You won’t send him there yet? Not before Christmas?’ I asked, my stomach beginning to tie itself up in knots.
‘No, but you are going to have to keep him away from school. He could be infectious to other children – and your own family. I can give you a little time, but eventually it will have to be isolation at the infirmary if this charity thing doesn’t come through.’
‘As long as we have Christmas. I need a little time to prepare him …’
‘Yes, of course. I understand perfectly,’ the doctor said. ‘I don’t like this any more than you do, Miss O’Rourke, but I don’t have a choice. If neglected, Tommy is just going to get worse.’
‘Yes, I know,’ I said. ‘I know what I have to do, doctor, but not until after Christmas.’
Mam was sitting in her chair by the stove when I went in. She hadn’t done a thing all day and there was a pile of ironing waiting for me to start. ‘So you’re back then,’ she said sourly. ‘You can go up—’
There was a knock at the door before she could finish and I went to answer it. Ernie Cole was standing on the doorstep, cap in hand. He looked at me awkwardly, as if unsure of my reaction.
‘Ma sent this,’ he said and held out a parcel wrapped in greaseproof paper. ‘She made too much cake mixture and this was left over …’
I glared at him, tempted to thrust his gift back in his face, but then I remembered Tommy. A cake was a cake and I had little enough to spend on my brother as it was.
‘Thank Mrs Cole for me,’ I said stiffly. ‘It was kind of her to think of us. Tommy will enjoy it.’
‘It’s nuthin’ much,’ he said, seeming relieved that I hadn’t yelled at him. ‘Is there anythin’ I can do fer yer, Bridget? Chop wood or—’
‘Thanks but I did that this morning.’ He nodded and turned away. ‘If I don’t see you before – Happy Christmas, Ernie, to you and your ma.’
He looked back at me and grinned. ‘You’ll see me, lass. Don’t forget Mr Dawson has promised us a bit of a do at the brewery Christmas Eve. He’s closin’ at two so we can all ’ave a mince tart and a glass of ale before we go home.’
‘Bridget!’ Mam’s voice called from the kitchen. ‘Stop gossiping and come here.’
‘I have to go,’ I said. ‘Thank your ma for the cake.’
Mam glared at me as I returned to the kitchen. ‘What have you got there?’ she demanded. ‘We don’t want charity.’
‘It’s a piece of cake for Tommy. He’s entitled and he’s having it.’
She sniffed and drew the whisky jar to her, pouring what was left into the glass. Finding there was no more than a mouthful she pulled a face and took some coins from the shelf.
‘Go and fetch me a jar.’
‘It’s dark out, Mam. I’ll get it in the morning.’
‘You’ll get it now!’ She sprang up and lunged at me, catching my head with the flat of her hand. ‘You’ll do as you’re told or I’ll make you sorry.’ She lifted the hot iron from the fire and threatened me with it. ‘You’ll get a taste of this in a minute.’
I went out without looking at her.
It was cold and dark in the lane and I hugged my shawl tightly about me. I hated having to go to the pub after dark because I was always afraid that Harry Wright might be hanging around, although I hadn’t seen him since the night he attacked me.
I ran all the way to the Feathers. As I came out, I shivered in the cold wind, catching the stink of the river, and then I began to walk very fast in the direction of my home. When I heard the echo of footsteps behind me my heart took a leap of fear, but I refused to look back. I couldn’t go on fearing an attack from Harry Wright for the rest of my life.
Besides, it wasn’t Harry. Why should it be? I hadn’t seen him in the lane since that night. He probably believed I had told Jamie what he’d done and would stay well clear.
‘Bridget!’ I heard the voice call to me. ‘Bridget, wait for me!’
It was Jamie’s voice. I stopped walking and turned as he came striding up to me.
‘Oh, Jamie … Is it really you?’ If it were not for the whisky jar I would have flung myself into his arms and hugged him.
‘Sure and it’s the very same,’ he said, his eyes bright with devilment. ‘Who else would it be?’
