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- Herausgeber: Allison & Busby
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Sprache: Englisch
1919, London's East End. Robert Hunter is eagerly awaiting the return of his father from the war. Next door, Ruth Cooper's family are also preparing to welcome her dad, whose ship was lost at Jutland. After five years of separation and anxiety - and, for Bob, the worry of caring for his frail mother - emotions are running high for both young people. But Alf Hunter, who saw action in the trenches, returns a changed man, and when he takes to drink, Bob must put his own happiness on hold to support his family.
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Seitenzahl: 431
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2015
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BERYL MATTHEWS
Contents
Chapter One
Canning Town, London, 1919
The war was over and the men were beginning to come home. Robert Hunter couldn’t wait to see his dad again. His mother wasn’t strong, and the last year had been hard for her. He had done his best to see she had plenty of rest, and he was taking any job he could so he could buy decent food and help to pay the rent. It wasn’t easy though, and he could only get casual work. They struggled even with him doing two jobs a day. But he was strong, just like his dad, and once he was home there would be two of them to look after her. Without the worry she’d be all right again.
‘Bob! Bob!’ Ruth Cooper from next door tumbled into the scullery where he was preparing a stew for their dinner.
He placed a large hand on top of his little friend’s head to stop her jumping up and down. ‘What’s up?’
‘Dad’s on his way home! Mum’s had a letter saying his ship has arrived in Portsmouth. He’ll be back any time now!’ Her large hazel eyes were shining with excitement.
‘That’s terrific, Ruthie.’
‘Any news about your dad yet?’ she asked.
‘No, but he should be back soon.’
‘Should be.’ Her expression became troubled. ‘Hope they’re all right. I saw Mr Hall from number eight, and he can’t stop shaking, and the man from number twenty-three has lost a leg.’
Bob stopped what he was doing. ‘I know it’s terrible, Ruthie, but you mustn’t worry about your dad. He’s in the Navy, and hasn’t been in the trenches. Mine has, but he’s a strong man. They both are. They’ll be all right, and anyway, if they’d been hurt we would have heard.’
‘Of course.’ Her smile was back. ‘How’s your mum?’
‘Better today, but I’ve made her take a little nap. All the worry about Dad has been hard on her, but that’s over now. Once he’s home she’ll be strong again.’
Ruth nodded. ‘Are you still working at the market?’
‘Yes, and I’ve also been able to get some work at the docks in the afternoon. With the men home that won’t last long, but I’ll take whatever I can get. I’m trying to get a permanent job there, but I don’t hold out much hope at the moment.’
‘You work too hard, Bob. You’re only sixteen, and you never have time to go out with your mates. You ought to be having some fun.’
He laughed. ‘You’re a fine one to be talking. You take care of your young sister and two brothers, and just about anyone else in the street who needs help!’
‘I enjoy helping people,’ she protested.
Bob leant back and rested against the large scrubbed kitchen table. ‘I know you do, Ruthie, and it’s time you thought about what you’re going to do. You’re fourteen now, intelligent, and have a real nice way with people. Why don’t you see if you can train to be a nurse, or something like that?’
She shrugged. ‘I can’t leave home. Mum needs me. You know she has to do home sewing to help with the food. She’s got five of us to feed.’
‘I know, but she’ll be all right when your dad’s home for good. Think about it.’
‘I will.’
‘Promise?’
‘I promise.’ She glanced at the clock on the mantle shelf. ‘Oh, I must go! The kids will be home from school soon. Bye.’
‘That girl’s always in a hurry.’
Bob turned and saw his mum standing in the doorway, a smile on her face. He smiled back, relieved to see her looking rested, and with some colour in her cheeks for a change. ‘I’ve been trying to get her to train for nursing, or something like that. She’s always looking after people and ought to think about her own future. But she won’t do anything about it.’
‘Keep on trying, Bob. Daisy’s quite capable of managing, and she’ll have Steve home soon. I’ll have a word with her about Ruth, if you like.’
‘Thanks, Mum. I do worry about Ruthie. She’s a bright kid and ought to think about doing something useful with her life.’ Bob poured her a cup of tea. ‘They’ve heard Steve’s ship has docked and he’s on his way. When do you think Dad will come home? The war’s been over for three months now.’
‘There’s hundreds – thousands – of troops stuck in France and Germany. They’ll get them all back eventually. I expect he’ll just turn up one day …’
Two days later Ruth came in all excited. ‘Dad came home last night, but it was late and I didn’t see him until this morning. Mum’s ever so happy, but the kids just keep staring at him, because he’s been away so long they don’t remember him. It’s the first time he’s ever seen Sally, but she’s chatting away.’ Ruth grinned. ‘You know what she’s like, and she’s making him smile.’
‘I’m glad he’s back safely,’ Helen said. ‘How is he, Ruth?’
‘All right, I think.’ Ruth chewed her bottom lip. ‘He looks awful tired. Mum’s told us we mustn’t ask him about the war, because he won’t want to talk about it.’
‘That’s right,’ Helen agreed. ‘They’ll talk when they feel like it, but we must leave them to do it in their own time.’
Ruth nodded. ‘I’m going to the shops, Mrs Hunter, so is there anything I can get you? There’s a nasty wind blowing today and I wouldn’t be surprised if it snowed.’
‘That’s a good idea, Mum.’ Bob put another piece of wood on the kitchen stove. ‘You stay in the warm, and I’ll be home about one o’clock to get you something to eat.’
‘Oh, you two,’ she laughed. ‘I don’t need you both running around after me. I’m feeling much better now.’
‘The weather’s bitter though, Mum. What’s the point of going out in it when you don’t have to?’
‘Write me a list, Mrs Hunter.’ Ruth fished a piece of paper out of her pocket, and a short stub of pencil. ‘It won’t be any trouble to get your shopping along with ours.’
Seeing she was busy writing down what she wanted, Bob grabbed his coat. ‘I must be off. Don’t want to lose my job at the market.’
He ran all the way, his long legs eating up the distance to the market, where the fruit and vegetables were already being unloaded. He skidded to a halt and pushed his light brown hair out of his eyes.
‘Ah, there you are, lad.’ The stallholder looked uncomfortable. ‘But you needn’t have rushed. Ted’s back now and I promised to keep his job for him. Sorry, Bob, but I can’t afford to employ you as well. You’ve been a good worker and I’ll be sorry to lose you, but I must keep my word. You understand?’
Bob glanced at the man setting up the stall, and he nodded. ‘Do you know anyone else who needs a strong hand, Mr Peters?’
‘Not at the moment, but I’ll keep my ear open and let you know if I hear anything.’
‘Thank you for employing me; I’ve enjoyed working for you.’ Bob walked away, bitterly disappointed. He’d known this could happen, of course, with men streaming back looking for work again, but he had hoped he would be able to keep this job.
He hurried towards the docks to see if he could get some extra work there today. They were never going to manage if he didn’t earn some money. Dad’s army money would stop as soon as he came home, and he had to earn enough to see them through until his dad found a job. Then they’d be all right.
That thought lifted his spirits, and he began to whistle as he strode along. Perhaps he’d be able to continue his education and become a teacher. It was something he had always thought he would like to do. He had loved school and hadn’t wanted to leave. Mr Jenkins at school had said he’d make a good teacher, and would easily pass the tests. Yes, he would seriously consider that once things had settled down at home.
As promised, Bob went home at lunchtime. Mum had lost a lot of weight lately and he wanted to make sure she ate something. It had been a depressing morning, but he smiled brightly, not wanting to worry her. Not only had he lost his job at the market, but there hadn’t been anything for him at the docks either.
After the meal he banked up the fire, concerned at how low their stock of coal and wood was. The weather was bitter, and it was only the beginning of February. Spring was a way off yet, so he’d have to see what he could do about it.
‘I’m off, Mum. You have a nice rest, and stay in the warm.’
‘Bob,’ she laughed. ‘All I’ve done is rest!’
‘I know, but it’s done you good, hasn’t it?’
‘It has, but you mustn’t worry so. I’m fine now. I’ll get your dad’s best suit out and give it a press. He’ll need that when he gets back.’
‘All right, but you make sure that’s all you do today.’
‘Go on,’ she laughed, ‘and stop giving me orders. Ruth got us a nice piece of cod today, so we’ll have that for our tea. You’ll be home at the usual time?’
‘Same as always.’ He closed the door behind him, determined to find a job of some kind. He’d do anything.
The first person he saw was the coalman, hunched up on his cart and looking miserable in the cold. ‘Hey, Tom, you on your own today? Want some help?’
‘Could do with it. Jump on, Bob, and I’ll give you a bag of coal if you help with the deliveries.’
Remembering their depleted stock, Bob leapt up, blessing his good fortune. ‘Where’s your lad today?’
‘Got a shocking cold. Little devil hasn’t got the strength to hump sacks of coal, so I told him to go back to bed.’ Tom pulled the horse to a stop. ‘Two sacks here. Coal bunker’s round the side.’
They didn’t finish the deliveries until six that evening. It was dark, and very cold when Tom stopped outside Bob’s house. ‘Thanks for your help. Take that last sack as payment. I’d never have managed without you.’
Jumping down, Bob lifted the sack on to his shoulders. ‘Are you going to need help tomorrow?’
‘I expect so. Come to the depot in the morning. I’m sure we can find a strong lad like you something to do.’
‘I’ll be there.’
After tipping the precious coal into their bunker, Bob went into the scullery, dirty, but well pleased with his afternoon’s work. He might even have a job for tomorrow too with any luck.
When he saw the man sitting at the table with his mother, he had to look at him hard. It was such a long time since he’d seen him, and he wasn’t sure.
‘Dad?’
‘Hello Bob.’
‘Oh, it’s good to have you home! When did you arrive?’
‘Couple of hours ago.’
‘What have you been doing?’ his mother asked. ‘You’re filthy.’
‘I’ve been humping coal.’ He couldn’t stop smiling. His father seemed rather quiet, but that was understandable. It must feel strange being back after all this time, and it would take a while for him to get used to everything again. He sat down and gulped the tea his mother had poured for him. ‘They didn’t want me at the market or docks because the men are taking their old jobs back.’
‘Oh, that’s a disappointment for you, Bob, but it’s only to be expected.’
‘And only right, Mum.’ He held his cup out for a refill and smiled at his dad. ‘I expect they’ll be glad to have you back at the docks, Dad.’
‘Give me a chance! I’ve only just got home.’
Bob was surprised at his sharp tone. He couldn’t remember him ever raising his voice before, but put it down to him being unsettled. ‘I was only telling you how things are, but of course you’ll need a couple of days to sort yourself out again. I expect it all feels odd at the moment.’
‘You’re right about that.’ Alfred Hunter gave a tight smile. ‘Get your coat, Helen, and we’ll go to the pub with Steve and Daisy.’
‘Not on an empty stomach, Alf. We’ll have something to eat first. I can make the fish stretch to three meals, and I’ve got a fresh loaf of bread. Bob, you’d better clean up before we eat.’
‘Right.’ He went to the washhouse, beat the dust from his clothes and washed his hands and face. That would have to do for the moment. He’d get the tin bath out later and clean up properly.
During the meal they talked about what was going on in the street. Bob and his mother avoided any mention of the war. As soon as the meal was over he washed the dishes, then stood at the front window to watch them walk up the road with Ruth’s parents. It was good to see them all together again.
Returning to the scullery he went out the back door and leapt over the fence. After a brief knock on Ruth’s door he went in.
‘They’re going to celebrate tonight,’ he said, smiling. ‘We won’t see them until closing time.’
‘Is your dad all right?’ Ruth looked concerned. ‘I hardly recognised him.’
‘I had to look twice, as well, but it’s a long time since we’ve seen him. He’s a bit quiet, that’s all. He isn’t injured or shaking like some of the poor devils.’
‘That’s good.’ Ruth grabbed her little sister as she rushed in and made straight for Bob. ‘Sally, you should be in bed.’
‘I heard Bob come in,’ she protested, struggling free.
He swung her up so she could sit on his lap, and the little girl gave her big sister a smug look. When the two boys also appeared, Ruth threw her hands up in resignation. ‘I think everyone’s too excited to sleep.’
Bob nodded. ‘I think we’d better play a game and tire everyone out. Let’s see who can say their two times table the best.’
Amid the howls of protest, Bob and Ruth grinned at each other. The men were home and everything would be all right now. They could put the dreadful war behind them.
Chapter Two
Within two weeks Bob knew just how wrong he had been to believe that things would be better now his dad was home. They were worse, and he was worried sick. Dad spent every opening hour at the pub, and after closing time he staggered home to sleep it off. He had been home for a month now and showed no sign of sobering up or looking for a job. Bob was still working for the coal merchant. It was a hard, dirty job, and every penny he brought home seemed to go into the old man’s pocket for beer.
Well, he wasn’t getting any of this week’s money, Bob decided as he walked home after another long day. They needed it for rent. His mother was really having a rough time trying to make ends meet while coping with a drunk – for that is what his dad had become. It was no good denying it any longer. She had improved a lot before he came home, but now she looked ill again.
When he walked into the scullery he stopped in amazement. His mother was ironing a massive pile of clothes, and holding on to the table in an effort to stay on her feet. ‘What the hell are you doing?’ He took the flat iron from her hand and made her sit down. ‘Where did all this come from?’
‘I’m taking in some washing. It’s the only work I could get, Bob.’ She pushed him away from the table. ‘Don’t get coal dust over everything. I’ll have to wash it all over again if you do.’
Bob was so incensed he could hardly speak, but he managed it through clenched teeth. ‘I’ll finish this when I’ve cleaned up, then deliver it and tell the people you won’t be doing it again.’
‘Don’t you dare!’ She was on her feet again, taking a fresh iron from the stove. ‘The rent man’s due tomorrow and I’m getting behind with the payments. He won’t wait much longer for his money.’ She gave her son an imploring look. ‘Please don’t try to stop me, Bob. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep a roof over our heads.’
He felt his eyes filling with moisture, but quickly wiped it away. Their situation was obviously desperate now. ‘But you’re not strong enough, Mum. All this worry is making you ill again. I got paid today and will see to the overdue rent.’
Helen Hunter hugged her son gratefully. ‘You mustn’t worry about me all the time. I know I can do this. You work so hard, and I hate taking all your money, but I don’t have a choice. I don’t know what I’d do without you.’
‘Where is he?’ he asked, changing the subject before his despair for her spilt over.
‘Asleep, at the moment. He can’t seem to rest at night.’ She gave Bob a weary smile. ‘Go and clean up and I’ll get us something to eat.’
When he returned he found his father alone in the scullery and going through his mother’s bag. ‘What are you doing?’
The bleary-eyed man glared at him. ‘I need some money for tonight.’
‘Well, you are wasting your time. She hasn’t got any. You’ve used it all to drink yourself senseless every day, and you’re not getting another farthing out of us!’
‘Don’t you use that tone with me, lad. I’m your father.’
‘Not any more, you’re not! You’re a pathetic drunk who can’t look after his family properly. Mum’s been reduced to taking in washing now, and she isn’t strong enough. Don’t you care?’
‘Bob!’ His mother came into the room. ‘Alf’s had a bad time, but he’ll pull himself together eventually.’
‘When? We’ll be in the workhouse by the time he does that. We’ve made excuses for him long enough, but no more, Mum. Lots of men have suffered, but most of them are back and working again. Dad’s all in one piece – not like some other poor devils—’
‘Shut up!’ his dad shouted. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about. I need a drink to stop the bloody nightmares, so hand over the money you’ve got.’
‘No! You’ll have to go without your booze. I’m going to pay the rent so we don’t get thrown out on the street! You might be happy to sleep in the gutter, but we’re not!’
‘Oh, Bob,’ his mother gasped.
‘Think you’re tough, do you?’ Alfred Hunter stood in front of his son. ‘Come on then, show me.’
Bob’s laugh was without humour. ‘Don’t tempt me. Haven’t you noticed that I’m as tall as you now – and stronger?’
‘Stop this at once!’ Helen came between them, pushing so they had to step away from each other. Taking a coin out of her apron pocket she held it out to her husband. ‘That’s all I’ve got, Alf. Bob’s right, the rent must be paid this week or we’ll really be in trouble.’
He took the coin, kissed his wife briefly on the cheek, and then turned and walked out of the house.
‘You shouldn’t give him any money,’ Bob told her gently, his anger draining away.
‘I’m sorry, Bob. I know just how it must grieve you to see the money wasted in this way, but he needs the drink.’
‘It isn’t his drinking that worries me so much, Mum. If he wants to ruin his life like that it’s up to him, but I can see how his behaviour is making you ill again.’
‘You mustn’t be concerned for me,’ she told him. ‘I’ve got to do what I feel is right, and that’s all any of us can do. It’s hard, I know, but he needs our support. Try to understand, Bob. He’s sick.’
‘So are you, Mum. Let me take you to a doctor.’
‘There’s nothing they can do. I’m just tired, that’s all.’ She looked up at her son and managed a smile. ‘We’ll get through this bad patch eventually.’
After they’d finished their meal, Bob made his mother go to bed and he set about finishing the ironing. It wasn’t expertly done, but it was clean, and gathering up the piles of washing he went out into the cold again. The meagre amount of money he collected he kept in his pocket to buy food.
On his return he checked that his mother was all right – she was fast asleep – and then he jumped over the fence to see Ruth. His emotions were chaotic, a mixture of anger and despair. He had pinned all of his hopes on his dad’s return, believing that would be the end of their troubles, but the man living in their house bore no resemblance to the father he remembered. This stranger had brought back nothing but heartache. He needed to talk to Ruth because she understood people. She seemed to be able to see right inside them and find some good in everyone, but he couldn’t fathom people at all.
She greeted him with a smile, but as soon as she saw his face, she frowned. ‘You’re angry.’
‘Bloody furious!’ He sat down and told her what had happened. He ran a hand through his hair. ‘This can’t go on, Ruthie, but I don’t know what I can do. We nearly came to blows tonight, and that upsets Mum even more.’
‘Fighting with him isn’t going to help any of you. I know it’s hard, Bob, but you must control your temper.’
He grimaced. ‘I know I can erupt easily, and I really am trying, but I don’t know which way to turn at the moment.’
She nodded. ‘You like to be in control of your emotions, and I can see you’re finding that impossible at the moment, but you’re doing well in a terrible situation, Bob. Just carry on the way you are, and I’ll keep an eye on your mum while you’re working.’
‘Oh, thanks, Ruthie.’ He gave a tight smile. ‘It always helps to have a talk with you.’
‘That’s what friends are for.’
Spring came, then it was June, but nothing had changed. Bob still had his job at the coal depot, and although he hated it, he couldn’t leave. They desperately needed the money he was bringing in. He never handed his wages over to his mother now, but made sure he paid the rent personally, and even did the food shopping on his way home from work. That way he knew he could keep a roof over their heads and food on the table. His mother was still taking in washing, and insisting that she was all right. Ruth was helping her through the day, and he spent his evenings ironing and delivering the fresh laundry. The money went into his mother’s pocket, but he knew it didn’t stay there for long. It ended up at the pub down the road.
It was a wretched way to live and Bob never bothered to speak to the old man now. He had pleaded and begged him to stop drinking, but it had been a wasted effort. The situation was hopeless. His dad was too far gone for help.
Tired and dirty, Bob walked into the scullery and plonked the shopping on the table. Then all the breath left his lungs and he fell to his knees in front of the old armchair that was tucked in beside the stove.
‘Mum!’ He cradled her head in his large hands, but he knew – he just knew. She was dead.
Lifting her off the chair he carried her upstairs and laid her on the bed. Then, consumed with grief and anger he hurtled down the stairs, bursting into the front room where the old man was sitting senseless, as usual.
Bob dragged him out of the armchair and shook him until he opened his eyes. ‘You bastard! She’s dead, and it’s your fault! You don’t care, do you? You’ve been too bloody drunk to notice how she’s been suffering. All you’ve been worried about is yourself! You’re beneath contempt.’
He threw him back on to the armchair and glared at him in disgust. ‘I ought to beat some sense into you, but you’re not worth it.’
His father reached out a hand to him, but Bob turned away, left the room and somehow made his way next door.
As soon as he walked into the Coopers’ scullery, Daisy grabbed his arm. ‘What’s happened, Bob?’
He stood there swaying with shock, unable to speak.
‘Steve! Ruth!’ Daisy called, still holding on to Bob. ‘Come here, quick!’
The room was immediately full of people, but it seemed to Bob as if everything was happening through a thick fog.
‘Sit down, lad.’ Firm hands held him upright in a chair. ‘Tell us what’s happened?’
He gulped. ‘Mum …’
Daisy caught hold of his hands and said to her husband, ‘Go and see, Steve. Ruth, you make some strong tea, and put plenty of sugar in it.’
Bob was on his second cup when Steve returned and spoke quietly to his wife.
She nodded and sat next to the traumatised boy. ‘You leave everything to us, Bob, and you can stay here tonight.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Cooper.’ His mind was beginning to clear, but the pain of loss was awful. ‘Sorry I’m so dirty. It’s the coal dust …’
‘Don’t you worry about that, lad.’ Steve squeezed his shoulder, then said to his wife, ‘What are we going to do about Alf, Daisy? He’s in a bad way.’
‘Does he know what’s happened?’
‘I think so—’
Bob surged to his feet. ‘Don’t you bring him near me! I don’t know how I stopped myself from giving him a good beating. He was in a drunken stupor while Mum was slumped in the scullery chair – dead! How could he leave her like that? The swine! I’ll kill him if I see him again … I will!’
‘Shush now.’ Daisy and Ruth were both trying to make him sit down again, but in a fury he was too big to handle.
Steve finally managed it. ‘Your mum was sick, and has been for some time. Even before Alf came back.’
‘I know, but that useless man made her worse. She would still be alive today if he’d looked after her like he should. She’d still be alive …’
For the first time in her life, Ruth was at a loss. She hated to see her friend suffering like this, and she wanted to help ease his pain. But how could anyone do that? Steve had brought his fresh clothes from the house and Bob was now clean. But he said nothing, and that worried Ruth - and her mother.
The two young boys peeped in the open doorway and whispered, ‘Can we come in, Mum?’
‘Of course.’ Daisy smiled at her sons as they slipped quietly into the room. Steve had explained the situation to them, and they had obviously understood. ‘Where’s Sally?’
‘She’s asleep,’ they told her.
The youngest, John, was clutching his favourite dog-eared storybook, and he went straight over to Bob, holding it out to him. ‘Would you read the story of the dragons for me, please? There’s lots of words I don’t understand, but I always know them after you’ve told me.’
Ruth was alarmed and started to get up, but Daisy caught her arm, shaking her head. She sat down again and watched. John loved Bob to read to him, but she didn’t think this was the right time.
Taking the proffered book, Bob gazed at it for a moment, then reached out and pulled John on to his lap. ‘Lots of new words, are there? Have you got the little dictionary I gave you?’
After fishing about in his pocket, John produced an equally tatty little book. ‘I’ve always got it with me.’
‘Good boy. Now, do you know what page the story begins on?’
‘It’s the last story in the book.’ John settled down, a look of expectant pleasure on his face.
Eddie grinned at his mum and sister, then went and sat on the floor next to Bob’s chair so he could listen as well.
‘They’re good boys,’ Daisy said, quietly.
At first Bob’s voice was husky and hesitant, but soon he was speaking normally. Ruth never got tired of listening to him; he spoke well and had a lovely tone to his voice. She often wondered if he could sing, but she had never heard him do so.
Daisy tapped her daughter on the arm, and indicated that they should leave the room now.
‘He’ll be all right,’ she said once they were in the scullery. ‘The boys will take his mind off things for a while. I’ll wash his clothes out while you make us all some cheese sandwiches, Ruth. I don’t suppose any of us feel like eating, but we must have something.’
‘He ought to be a teacher, Mum. Although he’s in shock after finding his mum like that, he’s still got time for the boys and their reading.’
Daisy nodded. ‘I doubt he’s ever going to get the chance to become a teacher now though.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because we are considered the poor, Ruth, and people in our station don’t get many chances in life to improve ourselves.’
Ruth snorted in disgust. ‘I thought the war was supposed to change all that! Isn’t this now a land fit for heroes, like they promised? It’s not our fault we’re so poor. We’re not daft, and should all be judged on our abilities, not on where we live, or how poor we are.’
‘Ah, that sounds like Bob talking. What a world that would be.’ Daisy smiled at her daughter, then turned her attention to her husband as he walked into the scullery. ‘How’s Alf? Does he know what’s happened to Helen?’
‘He’s a mess, but he knows she’s dead. He was just too drunk to do anything about it. He’s crying with shame.’ Steve sat down and wiped a hand over his eyes. ‘Lord knows what’s going to happen to both of them now. As sick as she was, Helen held that family together.’
‘She knew she was dying,’ Daisy told her husband, ‘but she so wanted to live long enough to see Alf through his problems. She just didn’t have enough strength to hang on any longer.’
‘But Bob did everything he could for her, didn’t he?’ Ruth said.
‘He did, darling.’ Steve smiled wearily at his caring daughter. ‘He’s a good lad, but I fear for him now. Unless he can learn to forgive, that anger he’s carrying around will drag him down, if he isn’t careful.’
‘I’ll keep an eye on him.’ Ruth’s expression was grim as she piled sandwiches on a plate. ‘He’s my friend, and I’ll help him.’
‘I know you will, and we’ll have to watch out for Alf, Daisy.’ Steve pinched a sandwich from the plate, and then stood up. ‘We’ll have to arrange everything, and I’d better start immediately. We can’t leave Helen in the house. Did she have any funeral insurance?’
‘Yes, she told me her mother had taken out a penny one when she’d been born, and she’d kept it up. The policy’s in a biscuit tin at the back of her wardrobe.’
‘That’s a relief. At least we’ll be able to arrange a proper funeral.’ He hauled himself up, and left, eating as he went.
Chapter Three
The next day Bob went to work as usual, saying nothing about his mother’s death. It was too painful to talk about, and the last thing he wanted, or needed, was sympathy. He couldn’t handle that at the moment. The Coopers were seeing to all the distressing details, and he was enormously grateful to them. They had always been like a second family to him, but now they were all he had.
Somehow he got through the day, and when he reached home, Ruth was waiting for him.
‘The undertakers have been, Bob, and you can stay with us again if you don’t want to go into your own house at the moment.’
‘Thanks.’ He laid a large hand on her shoulder and shook his head. ‘You’ve all been very kind, Ruthie, but I’ve got to face up to everything. As much as I hate the old man, he’s got to get through the funeral. I’ll have to sober him up enough to stand at the graveside with some kind of dignity. Mum deserves that.’
‘He’s very upset,’ Ruth told him.
Bob’s expression darkened. ‘So he should be! I suppose it’s asking too much to expect him to have stayed sober today?’
When Ruth just shook her head, he turned away and swore under his breath, then spun back to face her. ‘Is he down the pub already?’
‘He went as soon as they opened. I’m sorry. We did try to stop him.’
‘Dear Lord, Ruthie, you don’t have to apologise. There’s only one person who can help that man, and that’s himself. Until he recognises what he’s doing to himself and those around him, he’s never going to change. I did hope that the shock of Mum’s death might have brought him to his senses, but it seems not.’
‘I know you’re right.’ Tears shone in her clear blue eyes. ‘I do so wish we could help him.’
He looked at his little friend with affection. ‘You’d save the whole world if you could, but some people are beyond help. Don’t you worry; I’ll get him through the funeral. Tell your mum and dad I’ll be in to see them later to discuss the arrangements with them.’
‘All right. Have you got any food in the house? Mum said you could eat with us if you haven’t, and she’ll take a dinner in for your dad.’
‘Don’t worry about that. I did the shopping yesterday and there’s plenty there.’ His voice broke slightly, and he turned away, hiding his emotions. ‘I’ll see you later.’
Ruth watched her friend walk into his house, and sadness for him made her shoulders droop. He had taken on the responsibility of the man of the house all through the war, doing any dirty job he could find just to earn some money, and never once had she heard him complain. To have it end this way must be devastating for him.
Bob waited for the old man to come home from the pub, and pushed a strong cup of tea towards him as he slumped at the scullery table.
‘Drink that,’ he ordered, standing over him with the teapot in his hand. As soon as the cup was empty he refilled it, again and again.
When the pot was empty, Bob put it down and towered over his father, hands on hips. ‘The funeral is in six days’ time, and this is what we’re going to do. I don’t care how much you drink for the next five days, but on the day of the funeral you are going to remain sober. I will not have you disgrace Mum by falling down drunk as we lay her to rest. Do you understand?’
Alfred Hunter gazed up at his son with tortured eyes. ‘I won’t disgrace her or you.’
‘Good. Now, I know it won’t be easy for you because you’ve been permanently drunk since you arrived home, but I’ll help you through the next week. After that you are on your own.’
‘I have tried, really I have … I’m sorry, son.’
‘It’s too late for apologies.’ Bob took some coins out of his pocket and put them on the table. ‘That should get you through the week, but it’s the last I’ll be giving you.’ Then he left the scullery and made his way upstairs to try and get some sleep. He had done all he could for the moment.
The morning of the funeral dawned bright and warm, and Bob was grateful for the sunshine. If it had been a gloomy day it would have made everything even more upsetting.
Steve walked into the scullery. ‘Where is he, Bob?’
‘Still in bed, and I was about to drag him out. I don’t think he had quite as much to drink last night as he usually does, but I doubt he will be completely sober this morning.’
Steve nodded, his expression grim. ‘Come on, lad, I’ll give you a hand. We’ll manage him between us.’
‘Thanks.’
Alfred Hunter was up, washed and dressed without a murmur. With Bob on one side of him and Steve on the other they arrived at the church without mishap.
During the service and at the graveside, Alf pushed aside their restraining hands and stood unaided, tears rolling silently down his cheeks. Bob didn’t dare look at him or his anger would rise again, and this was no place for such emotions. He needed to remember his mum with love in his heart. She had been so brave.
Daisy and Ruth had prepared sandwiches, cakes and tea for the neighbours and friends who had attended. Both parents had been only children, so there weren’t any close relatives, but it had been a good turnout. Helen had been well liked and quite a few had come to pay their respects.
It had been a simple funeral, but a dignified one, and Bob was immensely grateful to the Coopers. Finally the last person left, and Bob sat at the table, giving a huge sigh of relief. Everything had gone well and the old man had made an effort, talking to people and remaining on his feet.
Steve Cooper gathered his family together. ‘Time to go. Bob will want to be on his own now.’
Bob gave him a grateful look. ‘Where is he?’
‘Asleep in the armchair,’ Daisy told him. ‘I should leave him there, Bob, he’s exhausted. And so are you. Try and get some rest.’
He nodded wearily. ‘I’ll try. Thank you for all your help. You’ve been wonderful.’
Steve gripped his shoulder for a moment, and then herded his family out of the door.
When he was finally alone, Bob rested his head in his hands and cried for the first time that day. After a while he dried his eyes and put the kettle on to make a strong cup of tea, feeling better now he’d let his sorrow come out. He’d been bottling it up ever since his mum had died.
Holding a fresh cup of tea between his hands he took a deep breath. All he had been able to think about was getting through the funeral, but now that was over it was time to make some decisions.
After draining the cup he stood up and went to the front room. The man asleep in the armchair seemed like a stranger to him, and he felt pity when he remembered the vital man who had once been his dad. But pity wasn’t going to do either of them any good. He knew the only way he was going to find peace again was to forgive the worry and sadness this man had caused his mother. But at the moment he couldn’t do that. Perhaps one day, but not now.
‘I’m sorry, Mum,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ve done all I can for him. It’s now time for me to move on.’
Chapter Four
Robert Hunter closed the door of the house he had called home, and fighting back the crippling sadness that threatened to tear him apart, he walked up the street. He’d loved his dad, but the man who had returned from the war had changed beyond recognition. Now Bob only felt contempt for the man who had caused his gentle mother so much pain.
‘Bob!’
Ignoring the call he kept going, his step never faltering. He had made up his mind and no one was going to turn him back. The decision had been hard because it meant leaving everything he was familiar with, and that included good friends and neighbours …
‘Where are you going?’ Ruth caught his arm, looking anxiously at the bundle he had tied with string and slung over his shoulder.
He shook off the restraining hand, being sharper than he should, but it was the only way he was going to hold on to his composure. He had been desperately hoping no one would see him so that he could slip away unnoticed. ‘I’m leaving,’ he said simply.
Tears filled Ruth’s eyes. ‘You don’t need to do that. Mum said you could come and live with us if you’d rather not live in the same house as your dad.’
‘Don’t be daft!’ he snapped. ‘You haven’t got enough room for me. Your house is full and she has quite enough people to look after as it is.’
‘We’d make room,’ she pleaded. ‘And you’d still be close enough to keep an eye on your dad. He needs you, Bob.’
‘No!’ He felt rotten when he saw her face crumple. She didn’t deserve to be spoken to like this. Hell, he sounded just like his old man, and that was something he must never do. ‘Your mum’s a kind woman, Ruth. You thank her for me, but I can’t stay. I’ve got to try and make something of myself.’ Bob’s mouth set in a grim line as he looked at the row of squalid houses. ‘I’m not going to end up like my old man who can’t face the world sober.’
‘He’s a troubled man—’
‘That’s no excuse. So are lots of other people.’ Bob’s voice came out in a snarl. ‘Mum would still be alive today if he’d stayed away from the drink and found a job. She was dreadfully ill, and he didn’t even notice. He can take care of himself now!’
‘We all know how bad things have been.’ Ruth touched his arm in sympathy. ‘But you’ve got friends here who will help and support you. If you leave you’ll be on your own. Where will you go? What will you do?’
‘I’ll be all right.’ He straightened up, trying to appear confident, his grey eyes hooded to hide his emotions. ‘I’m strong and can do any kind of heavy work. I’ll move around, picking up jobs where I can.’
‘Have you got any money?’ Ruth delved into her pocket and held out two pennies.
‘No, Ruth.’ He backed away. ‘I’ve got enough. I can’t take your money.’
‘I want you to have it.’ She stepped forward and thrust the coins into his large hand. ‘You can pay me back when you’re rich and famous.’
He smiled then. ‘All right, Ruthie. You’ll get it back with interest, and that’s a promise.’
‘And you make sure you bring it yourself.’
‘I will.’ Bob looked at his little friend with affection. He knew she had been doing jobs for neighbours so she could earn enough to buy herself a badly needed winter coat, but she was the kind of girl who always put other people first. ‘You’re a fine girl, Ruth, and with your dark hair and hazel eyes, you’ll be real pretty when you’ve grown a bit.’
She tipped her head to one side and made an attempt at a smile. ‘Well then, you’d better come back to find out, hadn’t you?’
On impulse he bent and kissed her cheek, slipping the coins back into her pocket without her noticing. ‘You take care of yourself, little Ruthie, and don’t settle for this kind of life. You deserve better.’ He straightened up, turned and strode away, not daring to look back.
‘Where’s Bob off to?’ Ruth’s mother asked when she went back into the house.
‘He’s left, Mum.’
Daisy Cooper stopped chopping the carrots and shook her head. ‘I was afraid of that. Did he say where he’s going?’
Ruth shook her head, near to tears. ‘I told him he could come and live with us, but he wouldn’t hear of it. He said you had quite enough to do looking after us lot.’
‘He’s always been a considerate boy, but if he really couldn’t stand living in that house any longer, we’d have made room for him.’ Daisy went back to chopping the vegetables for a nourishing soup. A few dumplings and a chunk of bread and it would fill her family up nicely. ‘But I don’t like to think of him all alone now. And God knows what’s going to happen to Alf. If he doesn’t sort himself out he’s going to end up in the workhouse. That man is a real mess, but in his own way he loves his boy.’
‘Well it’s a pity he forgot how to show it.’ Ruth’s voice wavered, still upset at losing her friend. ‘Bob tried so hard to help both his mum and his dad, and he might have stayed if he’d thought his dad cared.’
‘I know, but things are not always what they seem.’ Daisy reached out and pulled her daughter close, smiling down at her. ‘Life gets hard at times, Ruthie, trying to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table. We don’t always show how much we love each other.’
Suddenly three children erupted into the scullery, yelling and fighting.
‘Stop that!’ Ruth grabbed the youngest and pulled her out of harm’s way. Sally was only three and no match for her boisterous brothers, Eddie aged ten, and John aged eight.
‘He pushed me!’ John glared at his brother. ‘He made me fall over and tear my trousers. Look.’
‘I did not! You tripped.’
‘That’s enough!’ Daisy silenced her squabbling children.
John’s bottom lip trembled as he fingered the hole on the leg of his trousers. ‘I’m sorry, Mum.’
Bending down, Daisy inspected the damage, and then ruffled her little son’s dark hair. ‘That’s all right, John, accidents happen. Your sister will patch it for you, won’t you, Ruth? You know how clever she is with a needle.’
‘Of course. Take them off, John, and I’ll do it now.’ Ruth smiled at her sensitive brother. ‘You won’t even be able to see where the hole was when I’ve finished.’
The worry cleared from his little face. ‘Oh, thanks, Ruthie. Eddie, can I borrow your other trousers till mine are fixed?’
‘All right. They’ll be a bit big, but we can tie a piece of string around to keep them up. Come on.’
Friends again, the boys left together and scampered up the narrow stairs.
Ruth returned to the subject of the friend she adored. ‘Bob said I should get out of here when I’m older. He doesn’t believe we should live like this.’
‘Bob’s a dreamer, Ruthie; you shouldn’t take too much notice of what he says. We were born poor. That’s our lot in life and there’s no way we can change that. You need a good education to get anywhere, and there’s no hope of that around here.’
‘But we aren’t daft, and Bob’s ever so clever.’ Ruth’s eyes shone with admiration. ‘He’ll make something of himself. You’ll see.’
‘I hope he finds the kind of future he’s looking for.’ Daisy gave a sad smile. ‘The problem with that boy is he thinks too much. He’s also too clever for his own good.’
Ruth didn’t see how anyone could be ‘too clever for their own good’, but she said nothing.
Around five o’clock they were all sitting at the scullery table having their tea of bread and jam when the door burst open and Alf Hunter tumbled in.
‘Look at this!’ he shouted, holding up a sheet of paper. ‘That bloody kid’s left me. What’s he want to go and do a daft thing like that for? Where’s he gone?’
‘Stop shouting, Alf.’ Daisy pushed the distraught man into a chair. ‘And watch your language in front of the kids.’
‘Sorry, Daisy.’ Alf wiped a shaking hand over his eyes. ‘Where’s he gone? He’s only a kid. Why’s he done this?’
Daisy looked at her neighbour and saw that he was more or less sober for a change. It was time he faced the truth. ‘He’s sixteen years old, Alf, and quite capable of looking after himself. We don’t know where he’s gone, but the why is obvious. He blames you for Helen’s death, and believes she could have lived longer if you’d stayed off the drink.’
A muffled groan came from Alf. ‘I’m not much of a man, am I, Daisy? Helen died too young, and I’ve driven my son away.’
Ruth had poured Alf a cup of tea and placed it in front of him. ‘Drink that, Mr Hunter.’
‘You’ve got to pull yourself together, Alf,’ Daisy said, watching as he gulped down the hot liquid. ‘You’re only forty, and if you’d get that drink out of you, all your strength would come back. Steve said there’s work to be found at the docks if you aren’t too fussy what you do.’
‘Won’t bring my boy back, though, will it?’
‘No. What’s done is done. We can’t change that.’ Daisy sat beside Alf and gripped his hand. ‘Bob’s looking for a better future, and you can do the same. Take this chance to change your life, then when he comes back he’ll find the father he’d loved when he was a little boy.’
Alf glanced up, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. ‘Do you think he’ll come back, Daisy?’
‘Of course he will. Now, why don’t you show him you can change?’
‘Can … can I have another cup of tea, please?’ He raised his head, and for the first time since his return from the war, Alf Hunter had a glint of determination in his eyes.
Ruth poured another cup for him. ‘Would you like a slice of bread and jam, Mr Hunter? We’ve got enough.’
‘I’d like that. Thank you.’
‘Bob will be all right,’ Ruth told him as she cut a thick slice of bread for him. ‘He’s ever so clever. He was top of the school all the time.’
‘Yes. He’s got brains, and he certainly didn’t get them from me.’
‘Don’t put yourself down, Alf,’ Daisy scolded. ‘You ain’t so daft. It’s only the drink fuddling your mind.’
After putting a scraping of jam on the bread, Ruth handed it to Bob’s dad. ‘I gave him a bit of money I’d saved up, and he promised to return it, so he will come back. He always keeps his promise.’
