Gilding the lilly, p.7
Gilding the Lilly, page 7
Fighting back tears she made an effort to compose herself. Perhaps it would work out between Ralph and Sarah and at least Ralph’s mother seemed nice. And the thing was done now, it was no use harking back to what she should have said or done. She gazed at the grey rooftops over the top of the yard’s high brick wall. The endless rows of chimney pots beneath the blue sky were depressing and she lifted her gaze higher to where a bird - a lark, by the look of it - was soaring and swooping in the thermals.
She was still looking at it when a slurred voice behind her said, ‘I thought I saw you come out here. Had a bit too much to drink, have you?’
Lily swung round. Ralph stood swaying within inches of her, a bedfuddled smile on his perspiring face. ‘Of course I haven’t; I just wanted a breath of fresh air, that’s all.’
‘“Of course I haven’t.’” The mimicry was soft but the teasing had an edge. ‘Lily wouldn’t drink too much, Lily’s a good girl. Isn’t that right?’
She stared at him, at his bloodshot eyes, his red complexion, the beer he had slopped down the front of his shirt. ‘I’m going back in.’
‘What’s your hurry?’ He was blocking her escape and he knew it. ‘Can’t you try and be civil for two minutes?’
‘I want to go back in, Ralph. Don’t show him you’re frightened, stand your ground. ‘Kindly let me pass.’
‘Been avoiding me all day, haven’t you? Oh I know, I know.’ He tapped the side of his nose. ‘And you haven’t congratulated me yet on me wedding day.’
‘Congratulations.’
‘Not like that.’The waving movement of his hand slopped more beer down his shirt. He put the glass down on one of the beer barrels stacked to one side of the doorway. ‘How about a kiss for your new brother?’
‘You are not my brother.’
‘Brother-in-law, then. Same thing.’
‘Get out of my way,’ she said stonily.
‘Now why do you have to be like that, eh? You’re not kind, you know, Lily. Not like Sarah. Now she was kind from the first time we went out together.’
He was so close she could smell the beer on his breath and his sweat. The small yard seemed to have shrunk further and it was pressing in on her. Would anyone hear if she screamed? But she couldn’t scream. It would bring people to them and how would she explain this to Sarah? It was Sarah’s wedding day. Keeping her voice low, she said, ‘Sarah was kind to you because she loves you.’
He smiled. ‘Give us a kiss an’ you can go back in.’
He was looking at her in the way that made her feel sick. ‘I’m not going to kiss you out here. I will when we’re back inside with everyone.’
‘Not good enough. I deserve more than a peck on the cheek.’
His voice was cold. It dawned on her Sarah’s husband was not as drunk as she had supposed. He knew exactly what he was doing. Curiously she found the knowledge put iron in her backbone. Her next words wiped the satisfied smile off his face and caused him to stiffen. ‘Let me make one thing clear once and for all. Sarah is my sister and I love her, and I’d no more do anything behind her back than fly to the moon. If you ever try this again I shall tell her immediately, and not just her. I’ll broadcast it to your mam, your da and every member of your family and beyond.’
‘You wouldn’t dare.’
‘No?’ She glared at him. ‘You don’t know me very well if you think that.’
‘You wouldn’t want to upset Sarah.’
‘Far better upsetting her if it came to it than letting her go on loving a man who isn’t worthy to lick her boots.’
‘You little—’
‘Don’t swear at me, Ralph. And I’m asking you one more time. Get out of my way.’
He remained planted in front of the doorway, looking at her with both hate and desire in his eyes, but he said nothing. After a full ten seconds, the longest of Lily’s life, he stood aside and continued to watch her as she marched past him and back into the noise and laughter. It was only when she had disappeared from view that he began to swear, foul oaths that came out in a continuous string of profanity. Reaching for his glass he drained the last of his beer and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, muttered, ‘I’ll see my day with you, you see if I don’t. It might take time but you’ll live to regret them fine words, m’lady.’ And with one vicious movement he threw the glass against the wall of the yard.
On entering the club Lily stood in the passageway which led into the main room for a moment, her heart pounding and her hands clenched into fists at her side. He was disgusting and she hated him.Tears burnt at the back of her eyes but she blinked them away furiously. She was not going to cry over that despicable man but oh, Sarah, Sarah, what have you done? To escape home you’ve tied yourself to him for life. This was her father’s fault. If he’d treated her mother better and things had been different at home, Sarah would never have married Ralph Turner.
Worried Ralph might come up behind her she forced herself to enter the room and immediately a barrage of sound and smoke enveloped her. In view of her thoughts it was unfortunate that the first people she met were her father and John Turner who were standing by the door, drinks in hand, deep in conversation.
‘You all right, lass?’ Stanley’s gaze narrowed on his daughter’s over-bright eyes and the two spots of burning colour in her cheeks. ‘What’s up?’
‘Nothing is “up” as you put it.’
Her voice had been a snap and as her father’s eyebrows rose, John stared at her. It was clear what he was thinking. Stanley, aiming to pour oil on troubled waters, said quietly, ‘Can I get you a drink?’
‘Lily gets her own drinks. Isn’t that right, Lily?’
John’s voice was pleasant and his words could have been termed jocular, but she had seen the look in his eyes. Flushing still more, she said, ‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘One of these suffragettes, are you?’ John asked, his voice still deliberately amiable.
‘What’s wrong with the suffragette movement? Why shouldn’t women press to have the vote?’ She didn’t actually belong to the movement but one of the members of the weekly reading and discussion group she belonged to at the local library did, and she had listened to Ellen Lindsay’s views on the subject and agreed with them. ‘It’s our country too, isn’t it?’
‘I’ll leave you to it.’ Stanley had had enough. The whole day had been a nightmare and all he wanted to do was to leave as quickly as he could and get Geraldine home before he made some excuse to go out again. He needed to see Sally. Hell, how he needed to see her. He didn’t know how much longer he could go on with this hole-in-the-wall affair.
‘Well?’ Lily didn’t turn her head as her father left but kept her eyes on the man in front of her who looked so like his brother. ‘Why shouldn’t women have their say?’
John glanced after Stanley. When he looked at Lily again he didn’t answer her question but said flatly, ‘Do you always speak to your father like that?’
Totally taken aback, she stared at him. ‘That - that’s none of your business.’
‘When you behave like that in front of me I think it is. I like your father.’
‘Do you?’ she said tightly.‘And you’ve known him . . . how long? Two hours, is it? Or three?’
‘Meaning?’
‘You work it out.’ She wanted nothing so much as to go somewhere and have a good cry, but that luxury would be denied her for some time yet.
John found himself in the unusual position of feeling at a loss. This hadn’t happened in a long time and he didn’t like it, especially when he was being put in his place by a slip of a lass. He ran his fingers through his thick hair, reminding himself this was a wedding and things needed to be kept sweet, much as Nora had done earlier when she had been talking with Geraldine. ‘I think I’m a good judge of human nature,’ he said shortly. ‘And your father is the sort of person who improves on acquaintance, unlike some.’
‘Is that a dig at me?’
It hadn’t been, but her tetchiness took the last of his patience. ‘What is the matter with you?’ He shook his head, signifying something between condemnation and pity which made Lily bristle still more. ‘You’re so damn sharp you’ll cut yourself on your own tongue. This is a wedding, in case you’ve forgotten, and everyone’s supposed to be all hail and well met. Your sister has married my brother. Accept it.’
‘I wish I didn’t have to.’
As she glared at him it struck John he’d never seen another pair of eyes as beautiful as hers. It wasn’t just the pure clear green of them or that the fringe of thick, curling dark lashes were emphasised by her blond hair, it was the shape of them, too. And at present those same eyes were letting him know she thought he was something that had just crawled out from under a stone. ‘You are like your mother, aren’t you? You think Sarah’s married beneath her and that Ralph’s not good enough for her.’
That was exactly what she thought but not for the reasons he supposed. Not that she could go into that. She lifted her chin in an unconscious gesture of defiance but said nothing.
‘Can’t you bring yourself to put your prejudices aside and wish them well?’
‘For the sake of the baby, you mean?’ His eyes widened; she had shocked him by mentioning Sarah’s condition, she thought, with some satisfaction. Her eyes holding his, she said quietly, ‘The only reason two people should marry is because they love each other and I’m not sure your brother does love Sarah, if you want to know.’
‘At the risk of sounding impertinent, what do you know about it anyway?’
She had really riled him but she didn’t care. He was as arrogant and objectionable as his brother any day. ‘Enough.’
‘Oh no, Miss Brown, no clever cryptic monosyllables. You have just accused my brother of something and the least you can do is back it up.’
‘That’s where you’re wrong.’ John was standing with his back to the room but from her vantage point she could see her mother staring over at them with an annoyed expression on her face. Any minute now she was going to come across and break up what she clearly imagined was a tête-à-tête which would put the tin lid on things. ‘I don’t have to explain a thing to you.’
What did she know? John’s mind was racing. Ralph was a fool, how many times had he told him he’d catch his toe with his messing around, especially since he’d been courting Sarah? He couldn’t even keep his hands to himself on his stag night, he’d had to toy with that barmaid who was no better than she should be and her with a face like the back of a tram. Had Sarah’s sister caught wind of that, or something else?
While he was still hesitating, Lily made to brush past him and it was only then he said, ‘What gives you the right to look down your nose at anyone?’
Lily looked at him. The expression on her face convinced John she had something on his brother. They continued to stare at each other for a few moments more, and when she walked past him he made no effort to detain her this time.
Hell’s bells. Should he say something to Ralph? Warn him? What if that one whispered what she knew in Sarah’s ear? That’d be a good start to wedded bliss. He could brain their Ralph. He’d always been full of himself, swaggering about like a cockerel in a farmyard where the lassies were concerned. He knew for a fact that from when his brother had first got involved in knocking off the odd load from the docks he’d spent a good portion of the money in a certain whore house in the East End. No one could ever accuse Ralph of being too particular.
When the door a few yards in front of him opened and Ralph walked through, John saw his brother’s eyes move swiftly round the smoky room before coming to rest on him. ‘All right?’ Ralph said airily.
‘I want a word with you.’ Moving quickly, John pushed the smaller man out into the passageway again, ignoring Ralph’s, ‘Hey, what you playin’ at?’ as he said, ‘Shut up and listen. That barmaid from the Boilermakers’ Arms, how far did it go with her?’
‘What’s it to you?’ Ralph stared at his brother, belching a breath of stale beer. ‘You mind your own business.’
That was twice in the space of five minutes he’d had that said to him and perhaps he should, at that. The last thing he wanted was to get caught up in any domestic rows. ‘You didn’t get back till gone three that night.’ They shared a room with the twins and Robert and packed in like sardines as they were, Ralph had woken him up when he’d climbed over John’s pallet bed to fall into one of the two three-foot single beds the room held. John preferred the hard pallet bed on the floor to top-and-tailing with one of his brothers. Their close proximity and the sounds and smells that emanated from their persons was bad enough as it was. ‘And you left the rest of us at midnight.’
‘So?’ Ralph squared up to him belligerently. ‘What are you, me keeper or summat? It’s nowt to do with you what I do.’
Oh, to hell with it. Whatever Lily knew or thought she knew, they could work it out between themselves. Anyway, the lass might keep her mouth shut. ‘Please yourself.’
‘Aye, I will an’ all.’ And then with one of the quick changes of attitude that had always characterised their relationship, Ralph lightly punched him on the arm, saying, ‘Come and have another jar and stop looking so miserable.You think too much, that’s your trouble.’
‘Good job one of us does.’ It was the answer he always gave and had covered everything with his brother from his refusal to accompany him to the East End and ‘have a bit of fun’ to his insistence he wanted nothing to do with the thieving at the docks. Both these things, John knew, had offended Ralph, and his brother had made this clear by various forms of subtle torment for months after the event. And yet he knew Ralph loved him in his own way and he hadn’t been surprised when Ralph had asked him to be his best man. With three years difference between them there had been a time, when he had first started school, when Ralph had been his buffer against the inevitable bullying that occurred, a role Ralph had fulfilled to the letter. Ralph had often teased him unmercifully and pinched his Saturday penny, but if anyone else had so much as laid a finger on him his brother had been there with fists and feet. He was a funny mixture, was Ralph.
They walked back into the room together but after a while John made his way to where his mother was talking to Cissy and Florence at a table in a corner. Bending down, he said in her ear, ‘This is going to go on for a while yet if I know Ralph and the others when they get started. I’m going to nip back and do a bit of work but I’ll be back later, all right?’
‘Aye, all right, lad.’ Nora knew he had his ‘homework’ from his night classes, reams and reams of it which he usually did in the hallowed front room which up till the point he had needed a quiet place had only been used on high days and holidays. She was very proud of the fact that despite the hard times she had been able to keep her precious front room with its stuffed horse-hair suite and giant aspidistra intact. It had meant the lads being crammed into one bedroom and Cissy and Florrie sleeping in a desk bed in the kitchen and the youngest ones in with her and Harold, but it had been worth it.When the doctor or the minister called there had always been somewhere to receive them, even when there hadn’t been a crust in the house and the bairns hadn’t been able to go to school because they’d had no boots on their feet. But now John was doing his writing and reading in there, work which, God willing, would take him into the hitherto unreachable heights of a white-collar worker. It added a touch of reverence to her thoughts about the front room.
John straightened. As he did so his eyes were drawn to a splash of gold on the other side of the room. Lily was talking to Sarah but the conversation couldn’t have been a deep one; Sarah was smiling and, as he watched, the two sisters embraced. So, it looked as though she was going to keep quiet. Ralph had got away with whatever it was he’d done once again.
Twilight hadn’t yet begun to fall when he stepped out into the street. The club was situated in the warren of roads and alleys stretching south-east from Mowbray Park, and as he began to walk the faint smell of rotting garbage carried on the cool May evening.
He passed numerous children playing their games on the greasy pavements and in the gutters, and knew there would be still more in the back lanes. Here and there women stood gossiping on their doorsteps, shawls tucked into their long skirts and their arms resting on the mounds of their stomachs. John walked swiftly and without making eye contact with anyone, he’d had enough of passing pleasantries for one day. A couple of lads were swinging on a lamp-post from a rope dangling from the iron arm which jutted out beneath the gas lamp. Neither had boots on their feet and above their dirty faces their hair was matted and clearly verminous. Spotting him in his suit, one of them called out, ‘Spare a penny, mister?’ as he landed at the side of him.
John shook his head. If he gave to one they would all be round him and he had learned from experience the more persistent would think nothing of following him home, chanting and name-calling.
The nearer he got to Canon Cockin Street the more the smell from the chemical works and other industry lining the east side of Hendon made itself felt. He stood for a moment at the top of the street he had been born in as he was wont to do at times when the grind of constant studying got him down. It was identical to hundreds of others in the area, most of which were overcrowded, insanitary and unhealthy. It only needed a minute to convince him that whatever he had to do, however he had to struggle and however long it took, he’d make a better life for himself. And education was the answer. He wouldn’t be a dock labourer all his life.
Becoming aware his hands had curled into fists, he slowly released his fingers before walking on, and he had almost reached his doorstep when one of the doors opened and a grey-haired woman stepped into the street.
