Part 8 (1/2)

William nodded. 'You take George Galloway. 'E didn't get an education, well not the sort we're talking about. 'E learned 'is trade runnin' the streets an' sleepin' rough, the same as I did. Now look at 'im. 'E's got a business, an' 'e owns this row of 'ouses. I've 'eard talk about 'im buyin' a few more in the turnin'. Gawd knows what else 'e's involved in. If 'e fell in s.h.i.+t 'e'd get up smellin' o' lavender. Look at that time 'e lost the army contract fer the 'orses. A few weeks later 'e landed the brewery contract. I wouldn't worry too much, Nell. If our kids are destined ter get on in life, they will.'

She reached down and picked up the poker. The mention of George Galloway had made her feel bitter and she tried not to show it in front of her husband. 'I wouldn't like my kids ter turn out like Galloway,' she said quickly. 'Look what 'e would've done ter poor ole Jack Oxford if it wasn't fer you standin' up to 'im.'

'It was young Geoff what made 'im change 'is mind,' William replied. 'If it'd jus' bin me, I'd 'ave bin out the gate. 'E's a nice lad that Geoffrey. 'E's a bit soft an' 'e don't like makin' decisions but 'e's a good lad fer all that. It's a pity the ovver boy wasn't made ter do 'is share. Come ter fink of it, p'raps it's just as well. Two Galloways ter deal wiv is enough wivout anuvver one in the office!'

Nellie laughed briefly and then prodded at the fire, a feeling of apprehension mounting inside her. She had been aware for some time now of the strain beginning to show in Will's face. As she stole a glance across at him, she could see how the years and the toil were beginning to mark him. William was still robust and healthy, but there was a certain sad look in his pale blue eyes. His face had started to show lines too. His fair hair was thinner and he looked tired. She was beginning to feel the burden of the years herself. When she looked in the mirror that morning, Nellie had seen the signs around her eyes. Her figure was still slim and rounded, but she had gazed wistfully at her sagging b.r.e.a.s.t.s and the looseness of the skin on the backs of her hands.

The pa.s.sing of the years was apparent too in the way her children seemed to be hurrying towards adulthood. Carrie's body was developing quickly, and she was growing up into a pretty young woman. James, too, had seemed to grow up suddenly. He was tall and gangling, and his abrupt manner and tendency to anger quickly reflected his pa.s.sage into manhood, she thought. Then there was Charlie. He was fair-haired like the others, but his eyes were grey and he had a quiet manner.

Nellie sighed deeply as she recalled the feelings she had kept from William and the secret agony she suffered during the time when she carried Charlie inside her. There had been no one she could turn to and the memory of those anxious days and nights of pregnancy had stayed fresh in her mind. She could see the narrow alley as though it were only yesterday, with the smell of rotting vegetables, and the black-painted door with the large iron knocker. She remembered looking at the address on the small piece of paper and then raising her hand to the knocker. It was the faint cry of a baby that had checked her. She had turned abruptly and hurried from the alley, suddenly determined to give her unborn child its chance in life, come what may.

William's repeated question interrupted Nellie's troubled thoughts. 'I said, young Danny looks like 'e's picking up.'

'Sorry, I was miles away right then.' She smiled dismissively, loath to meet his eyes at that moment. 'Yeah, 'e looks like 'e's puttin' on a bit o' weight. I worry about Danny. There's always one weak 'un in the family.'

William smiled. 'Danny's gonna grow up the toughest o' the bunch, mark my words.'

Nellie leaned back in her chair and let her stockinged feet rest on the edge of the bra.s.s fender. 'Our Carrie seems ter be gettin' 'erself involved wiv those suffragettes,' she said. ''Er mate at work 'as bin tellin' 'er all about 'em. The gel goes on the marches, by all accounts.'

William looked at Nellie with concern. 'She's a bit too young fer that sort o' fing. The kid's only jus' turned fifteen. I wouldn't wanna see our Carrie get involved wiv that lot. I was readin' in the paper the ovver day 'ow they go on 'unger strikes in prison an' 'ave ter be force-fed.'

Nellie shrugged her shoulders. 'Yer know 'ow 'eadstrong Carrie is, Will,' she said. 'Nuffink we can say will make any difference. Look 'ow she used ter get on ter yer about 'elpin' out in the yard an' goin' on those journeys wiv yer.'

'Well, I 'ope she don't go gettin' any fancy ideas,' he said quickly. 'I'm not against votes fer women but I fink they're goin' the wrong way about it. Chainin' 'emselves ter railin's ain't gonna do any good.'

Nellie got up and moved the iron kettle over the fire. 'Well, sometimes yer gotta take drastic measures,' she replied. 'Look at that time the women blocked the turnin'. It worked, didn't it?'

William's face relaxed into a smile. 'I don't fink it did. What stopped ole Galloway was a certain little troublemaker who marched out o' the 'ouse wavin' a chopper.'

Nellie glared at him. 'Well, it stopped the women gettin' a soakin', didn't it? Now what about gettin' up out o' that chair an' callin' the kids in before it gets dark?'

Nora Flynn had finished was.h.i.+ng the dishes and scouring the pots and pans after the late tea, and was preparing to take an evening stroll. The two lads had been subdued at teatime, she thought; and Josephine seemed to lack her usual sparkle. There had been an atmosphere. At such times Nora wished she could eat alone, but it was her employer's wish that she should join the family for meals. She had seen the fleeting glances which flashed between the boys and noticed George's reluctance to make conversation. He had answered Josephine's questions in monosyllables and had left the table as soon as he could. As Nora reached for her coat Josephine walked into the room, a sad look on her pretty young face.

'Why does Father shut himself up in that miserable room, Nora?' she asked, sitting down in a chair beside the large table.

Nora gave the child a brief smile. 'Yer farvver needs ter be alone, child,' she replied. ''E's got a lot on 'is mind.'

Josephine ran her finger along the raised grain of the wood. 'Geoffrey took me to the stable today to see the horses. They're lovely, but Father said I shouldn't go near there any more. He told Geoff so. Why, Nora?'

'Yer farvver's worried in case yer get knocked down by one o' them carts, luv, or in case one o' them 'orses kicks out at yer,' Nora told her kindly. 'A transport yard can be a dangerous place for a little gel.'

Josephine clasped her hands on the table and looked wide-eyed at the housekeeper. 'When I was at the stable I saw the children playing out in the street. Isn't it dangerous for them?' she asked.

'They've got no choice, they live beside the stable,' Nora said, smiling. 'Yer lucky. Yer live in a nice 'ouse in a nice square, an' there's no 'orse-an'-carts ter worry about, 'cept the traders who call.'

Josephine pouted. 'I think it's much nicer in Page Street, and the children there seem very nice too,' she remarked. 'Geoffrey told me that the boy who waved to me was Mr Tanner's son, Charlie. I think he was very nice.'

Nora glanced up at the large clock on the mantelshelf. 'I've got ter go out, Josephine, an' you'd better get off ter bed, it's gettin' late,' she told the child.

Josephine stood up obediently and presented her cheek to receive Nora's goodnight kiss, then as she was going out she stopped suddenly and turned in the doorway. 'You'd never leave us, would you, Nora?' she asked, her violet eyes gazing appealingly at the housekeeper.

Nora shook her head firmly. 'I'll always be 'ere, child, an' yer can always come an' talk ter me if yer need to. Now off ter bed wiv yer this minute.'

Josephine was about to say something, but instead she just smiled quickly as she turned and hurried up to her room.

Nora put on her coat and walked down the stairs, hoping to catch Geoffrey before he left. He had said he was going out to meet someone and Nora wanted to find out just what was wrong. Geoffrey was always ready to confide in her, although lately he appeared to have something on his mind and she felt he had become evasive.

The house was quiet, however, and as Nora let herself out of the front door she heard George Galloway's throaty cough coming from his room. It was cold and damp and not an evening for taking a stroll, but she wanted time to think. Things had changed in the house of late and she did not understand why George was so morose this evening. Recently he had become very talkative and often, after Josephine had gone to bed and the two young men had gone out, had called her into his room. They had chatted about the early days and of trivial things which Nora found amusing. George had laughed with her, and on one or two occasions had tempted her with a gla.s.s of port. Nora had found herself becoming excited in his presence and her long suppressed physical feeling for him had been rekindled. George had not made any advances, other than to remark on what the lads might think should they return unexpectedly, and she had not felt able to give him any hint of her secret desire.

At first she had felt pity for George, pity for a distraught man left alone to care for three young children, but her pity had soon changed to something deeper. She soon realised that he hardly ever noticed her. He was a hard man, with a streak of arrogance and meanness in his nature, but there was something difficult to define about him which she found very attractive. Maybe it was the single-mindedness that had brought him comparative wealth. Such strength of purpose might change to devotion and release the goodness in his character, Nora thought to herself, if he would only start to be aware of her as a woman. He had never seen her as anything other than hired help and she had suppressed her feelings for him and gone about her tasks, wis.h.i.+ng secretly that one night he might visit her, if only out of loneliness. He never had, and the solitariness of her own existence weighed heavily on her.

I've been alone too long, she thought as she crossed the square and walked out into the empty Jamaica Road. Why can't I show him how I feel about him? Maybe he is only waiting for a sign or a hint.

George had not been drinking so heavily of late and seemed to have come to terms with his bereavement, but tonight there was something on his mind. Maybe she should confront him in his room and let him see she was concerned for his happiness.

The m.u.f.fled sound of a tug whistle carried from the river lanes as the fog drifted down. Nora pulled the collar of her coat around her neck and buried her hands deeper into her fur m.u.f.f. Her high-heeled shoes echoed on the deserted pavements and when she reached the park gates she stopped and turned round. Normally she would have carried on a little further but the fog seemed to be getting thicker. She hurried back towards the quiet square, her thoughts centred on a warm fire and a hot drink before retiring for the night.

It was then that she saw the couple standing in a dark doorway. The man had his back to her and was pressing against the woman whose face was resting on his shoulder. Her eyes were closed and she was groaning as the man's rhythmic movements became faster. Nora turned her head as she walked quickly past, but the couple seemed oblivious to her presence. She hurried on and turned into the quiet square feeling strangely roused. The woman was probably one of those tarts who frequented the music hall, she thought, and he might be a merchant seaman. Maybe she was wrong. Perhaps they were two young lovers who for their own reasons had to resort to a dark doorway on a cold miserable night to express their love for each other.

Nora let herself in the house and closed the door behind her. She stood in the hall for a few moments, then taking a deep breath tapped gently on the front room door. She heard George's gruff voice and as she stepped into the room Nora saw her employer sitting slumped in his armchair before the fire. He had a gla.s.s of whisky in his hand and his face was flushed.

Nora's heart sank as she sat down facing him. He looked at her enquiringly. She hesitated before speaking.

'I wanted to 'ave a chat, George,' she said at last. 'I noticed you were quiet ternight. Is anyfing wrong?'

He shook his head and stared down into the fire. 'I've 'ad a few words wiv young Geoffrey. It's nuffink really,' he said quietly.

Nora paused for a moment then sat forward in her chair. 'I've bin enjoyin' our little chats, George,' she began. 'I 'ope yer feel the same way. I jus' want yer ter know I'm always 'ere, in case yer need me.'

George looked up and noticed that his housekeeper was eyeing him intently. 'Yer look a bit edgy, Nora. Anyfing wrong?' he asked.

She smiled. 'I came in 'ere wiv the same question. I don't like ter see yer miserable, George. It grieves me ter see yer drinkin' alone.'

'I don't 'ave to,' he replied. 'Yer could always join me.'

'I didn't mean it like that,' she said quickly, her face flus.h.i.+ng slightly. 'It used ter upset me when yer spent all that time shut away in 'ere wiv the bottle. I wanted ter 'elp yer, but I didn't know 'ow. I know yer was grievin' over Martha but it's bin a while now an' I was pleased when yer let me share the evenin's wiv yer. I thought it was 'elpin' yer, an' me too. I don't like ter see yer go back ter drinkin' 'eavily again, George. Don't shut the children out o' yer life, an' me too fer that matter.'

He was watching her closely while she spoke, aware of her embarra.s.sment. Nora was strange, he thought. She had always seemed so prim and proper, never giving way to her feelings. Now she was making him feel uncomfortable. She was a fine woman, he had to admit. Her face was well shaped and her eyes warm and friendly. The high-necked blouse seemed to accentuate her sloping shoulders and small b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and her hands were those of a younger woman, long and slender. George noticed how she sat upright in the chair, with her long black cotton dress almost touching the floor. Her still raven hair was pulled high on top of her head and secured with a fan-comb, giving her a matronly appearance that was more suited to an older woman. He realised he had never seen it any other way and wondered if she wore it like that when she went to bed.

Suddenly he got up, averting his eyes from hers. 'Let me get yer a drink,' he said, walking over to the sideboard.

Nora felt she should decline his offer but the strange excitement she had felt on seeing the lovers still persisted. She made no effort to stop George pouring out a large port, telling herself she was going to need it if she were finally to unburden herself to him. The time was ripe, she tried to convince herself.

George was standing beside her with the gla.s.s of port held out to her. He smiled, and she noticed how his eyes appraised her.

'Yer know, I've never seen yer wiv yer 'air let down,' he said suddenly.