Part 20 (1/2)

Tommy's face lit up. 'Would yer, Carrie? Would yer really?'

She smiled. ''Course I would. Knock fer me when yer ready an' I'll be waitin'.'

'It's seven till eight visitin' time,' he said, releasing the brake chain. 'I'll be round at ten ter seven.'

Carrie watched as he climbed up on to the cart and jerked on the reins. 'I'll be ready,' she said.

Trouble had been brewing in the Tanner household all week. On Friday evening, as soon as the meal was over, Nellie glanced across at Danny, hunched sulkily in his chair. 'It's no good yer sittin' there lookin' all mean an' 'orrible,' she said sharply. 'I told yer I don't want yer goin' ter that boxin' club. In fact, I've a good mind ter see Billy Sullivan's muvver abaht it. Billy should 'ave more sense.'

'But I like boxin', Mum,' Danny answered, twirling a knife. 'It's nuffink ter do wiv Billy. Yer'll make me look silly if yer see 'is muvver.'

'It is somefink ter do wiv Billy Sullivan,' Nellie said, gathering up the plates. 'It was 'im who kept on ter yer about boxin', an' it was 'im who took yer ter the club in the first place. I told yer before, I don't want no fighters in this family. All them knocks ter the 'ead can't do yer no good.'

William had his head buried in the evening paper and huffed defensively as Nellie rounded on him.

'Yer sittin' there takin' no notice. Why don't yer tell 'im?' she said sharply.

He folded the paper and laid it down on the table. 'I fink yer makin' too much of it, Nell,' he said quietly. 'It's a good club an' they don't let the kids get 'urt. It's not like professional fightin'.'

'That's 'ow they start though,' she complained. 'That's 'ow Billy Sullivan started, an' now look at 'im. I saw 'im the ovver day - 'is face was all bruised an' 'e 'ad a nasty black eye. Is that 'ow yer wanna see Danny turn out?'

'Billy's gonna fight fer the area t.i.tle next week,' Danny said loudly. ''E's gonna be the champion soon.'

'See what I mean?' Nellie groaned. 'Mind yer, I blame meself. I should 'ave stopped 'im 'angin' around wiv that Billy. The way it is now 'e finks the sun s.h.i.+nes out of 'is a.r.s.e. Gawd, as if it wasn't bad enough nursin' 'im frew that bronchitis an' pneumonia! Now 'e's gonna be knocked stupid as well.'

James had been listening to the argument. He pushed back his chair and stood up. ''E'll be all right, Muvver. It'll knock some sense into 'im,' he said, winking at Danny.

'That's it, take 'is part,' Nellie stormed. 'Ain't you got anyfink ter say?' she rounded on Charlie.

The quiet lad looked up, surprised at his mother's anger. 'I reckon in the end it's up ter Danny what 'e wants ter do, Mum,' he said. 'If 'e takes up boxin', at least n.o.body's gonna pick on 'im.'

Nellie picked up the plates and hurried out of the room, sighing loudly. Once she had gone, William turned to his youngest son. 'Look, yer shouldn't keep on about that boxin' club in front of yer muvver,' he said in a low voice. 'Yer know 'ow she feels about it. If yer wanna go, then go, but keep quiet about it. She'll get used ter the idea, but give 'er time.'

Danny's face brightened a little. He turned to Carrie who was folding up the tablecloth. 'Will yer come an' watch me when I 'ave me first fight?' he asked, grinning.

'Only if yer promise ter win,' she said as she hurried out to the scullery.

Nellie was sc.r.a.ping the plates as Carrie entered. She cast an anxious glance at her daughter. 'P'raps I worry too much about that boy but I can't 'elp it,' she fretted, wrapping the leavings up in a piece of newspaper. 'Especially after that illness 'e 'ad. It leaves yer chest weak.'

'I shouldn't worry too much, Mum,' Carrie replied. 'Danny's as strong as an ox.'

Nellie took the kettle from the gas-stove and poured hot water into the enamel bowl. 'I s'pose I shouldn't 'ave jumped at yer farvver the way I did,' she said. ''E's worried enough the way fings are goin' at the yard. What wiv Soapy puttin' 'is notice in, an' Galloway talkin' about gettin' rid of ole Sid Bristow. The way fings are goin' yer farvver could be next.'

Carrie took a wet plate from her mother. 'Galloway wouldn't put Dad off, surely,' she rea.s.sured her. 'Dad's savin' 'im a fortune the way 'e cares fer those 'orses. There's the men too. Dad knows 'ow ter 'andle 'em an' they respect 'im. No, I can't see 'im puttin' Dad off.'

Nellie rinsed the last plate and pa.s.sed it to Carrie. 'Don't yer be so sure,' she said. 'Galloway wouldn't fink twice if it suited 'im. 'E's 'ard, take it from me.'

'But who's gonna look after the animals if Dad goes?' Carrie asked, putting the stack of plates in the cupboard.

'Fings are changin' fast,' her mother replied. 'Young Geoffrey's got ideas of 'is own. 'E wants ter bring in lorries ter do the cartage. A lot o' firms are changin' over now. In a few years' time yer won't see 'alf the 'orses yer see on the road now, mark my words.'

Carrie leaned back against the copper and folded her arms. 'What would 'appen if Dad did get the sack? Would we 'ave ter leave 'ere?'

Nellie shrugged her shoulders. 'I can't see Galloway lettin' us stay.'

'But we could pay rent like the rest o' the tenants,' Carrie said.

'It's not as simple as that, luv. If they did change over ter motors, they'd need somebody ter look after 'em an' 'e'd 'ave the 'ouse. It'd go wiv the job,' Nellie told her.

Carrie blew out her cheeks. 'No wonder Dad's worried. Why can't fings stay the same? Why does everyfing 'ave ter be so complicated?'

Nellie laughed resignedly. 'Life's complicated, Carrie. Nuffink's simple fer long. One fing's certain though - we'll manage some'ow. We always 'ave.'

The evening air was chill and the sky a ma.s.s of dark brooding clouds as the young couple walked through the infirmary gates and along the gravel path to the main building. Carrie was holding on to Tommy's arm and they were both silent. She had never been inside the building but the stories she had heard about the place filled her with dread.

'They go there from the work'ouse,' her mother had said. 'They send 'em there when the poor bleeders are too old ter work an' when they start goin' orf their 'eads.'

Carrie gripped Tommy's arm tightly and he smiled encouragingly as they climbed the stone stairs to the second floor. The walls were tiled in brown and cream, and the stone floor scrubbed clean. The nurses they pa.s.sed were wearing long dark uniforms with white, starched hats that covered their foreheads and hung down their backs triangular fas.h.i.+on. Their clothes rustled and keys hanging from their black canvas belts jangled as they hurried by. Carrie s.h.i.+vered inwardly as they entered the dark ward and walked past the rows of beds along the walls. Hollow eyes followed them as they pa.s.sed. When they reached the last bed on the left, Tommy leant over the frail figure lying there and kissed her forehead gently.

'I've brought somebody ter see yer, Mum,' he whispered.

Carrie leant forward and smiled at the vacant-eyed old lady. ''Ello, Mrs Allen. 'Ow are yer?' she asked in a low voice.

A long, bony hand slipped out from beneath the bedclothes and gestured feebly.

'Jack? Is that Jack? I got the ticket. I'll get yer suit out on Friday. I'll ...'

The croaky voice trailed away and the bony hand dropped limply on to the bedclothes.

'She finks it's me farvver,' Tommy whispered as he pulled up a chair for Carrie. 'She's on about the p.a.w.n shop again. It was the same last time I come in.'

Carrie looked down at the white-haired old woman. She could see the faint pulse beating in her thin neck. The woman's eyes were closed but they seemed to be moving beneath her dark eyelids. Carrie could not think of anything to say and looked up at Tommy. He was standing over the bed holding his mother's hand. He bent down to stroke her forehead gently with his other hand. 'It's Tommy. It's yer son Tommy, Ma,' he whispered. 'Open yer eyes, Ma.'

The old lady's eyes flickered and closed again. 'Tommy?' she murmured hoa.r.s.ely. 'Yer a good boy ter yer ole mum. Tell yer farvver I'll be 'ome soon. Bring me clothes in next time, Jack. I can't stay in 'ere.'

Tommy looked at Carrie and shook his head. 'It's no good, she keeps wanderin',' he said softly.

Carrie looked around the ward. Like the long corridor, the walls were tiled in cream and brown and the highly polished floor smelt of carbolic. Here and there a few wilting flowers stood in gla.s.s vases beside the beds, and in the centre of the ward there was a polished wooden table where the ward sister sat writing. Beside her was a large vase containing a spray of bright yellow chrysanthemums. They seemed out of place in the drab, sterile surroundings.

Tommy stood over his mother, whispering to her and squeezing her limp hand for a while, then straightened up and turned to Carrie. 'I fink we should leave now,' he said. 'She doesn't know us.'

Carrie got up and stood at the foot of the bed while Tommy bent over and gently kissed his mother's lined forehead, then took his arm as they walked quickly from the ward and along the gloomy corridor.

They walked in silence until they had crossed the quiet thoroughfare and then Tommy turned to her. 'Would yer like a drink?' he suggested. 'I need one.'

Carrie looked at him rather apprehensively. 'In a pub?' she queried.