Authors: Rita Bradshaw
The Rainbow Years (10 page)
Amy laid the photograph carefully on the bed before placing her hands on her grandmother’s, which had been pulling agitatedly at the eiderdown. ‘I’m not like Mam in the trusting people sense, Gran,’ she said quietly. ‘All right?’
She could see her grandmother was surprised but Amy couldn’t find the right words to explain further. She just knew she would never let a lad take her down without their being wed. The way her Aunt May and Mr O’Leary and especially her granda looked at her sometimes wouldn’t let her for one thing. Her mam hadn’t been bad and neither was she and one day she would show the lot of them. Quite what she’d show them she wasn’t sure, but she’d make it happen. And it would be for her mam as well as for her.
‘You’ve got a level head on your shoulders, hinny, that’s for sure,’ said Muriel, somewhat reassured. ‘Just you make certain some canny lad with the gift of the gab doesn’t turn it, that’s all I’m sayin’. Silver-tongued, some of ’em are. Isn’t that right, Kitty?’
Kitty smiled, a smile which was rueful but without rancour. ‘To be truthful I haven’t had too many spinning me a line, Mrs Shawe, but rest assured if one tries he’ll be up the aisle and standing in front of the priest with me clothed in white afore he can blink.’
Muriel and Amy laughed, as Kitty had meant them to, but as Amy looked at her mother’s best friend, she thought, The lads hereabout must be mad not to see what a lovely person she is; she’d make anyone a wonderful wife.The echo of Eva’s spiteful remarks about Kitty came to mind and impulsively Amy said, ‘Whoever gets you will be the luckiest lad in town, Aunt Kitty.’
Kitty’s lids blinked rapidly; she swallowed and moistened her lips before she said, ‘Thanks, lass, but I’m not holding me breath. Happen I’ll carry on as I am and that doesn’t seem a bad thing on a Sunday afternoon when all our lot come for tea with their bairns. Bedlam it is.’
She didn’t mean it. There was something in Kitty’s eyes which pained Amy and she turned from it, saying quickly, ‘What’s in the little bag, Gran?’
‘What? Oh aye. Here, take a look.’ Muriel thrust the velvet pouch at her granddaughter.
Amy loosened the drawstrings and peered inside before tipping the contents on the bed. Three pound notes fluttered onto the eiderdown.
‘This was goin’ to be for a bit of a do when your mam got wed,’ Muriel said softly. ‘I started savin’ the odd penny or two from me housekeepin’ on the sly from when she was born until I ended up in this bed twelve years ago. Me own weddin’ was a pauper’s affair an’ I wanted me lass to have a nice dress an’ a knees-up. I knew your granda wouldn’t agree but I’d got in mind for Bess to say to the young man, whoever he was, that it had come from his pocket. I’d got it all worked out.’ She smiled a watery smile, her lips trembling. ‘Course sometimes there were weeks when I couldn’t put anythin’ away. Your granda’s always had to know the ins an’ outs of old Meg’s backside an’ I swear he could add up what I’d spent down to the last farthin’. Mean as muck, Wilbur was, unless it came to tickets for the footie or money spent on his baccy and beer.’
‘But I can’t take this, Gran.’ Amy was staring in awe at the notes.
‘You can an’ you will, hinny. Put it away in one of them post office accounts or summat an’ no one will be any the wiser. Kitty’ll go with you to set it up, won’t you, lass?’
‘Aye, yes. We could go this afternoon,’ said Kitty.
‘There you are then, it’s settled. It’ll be a weight off me mind to know you’ve got it an’ your mam’s picture, bless her heart.’
‘Oh, Gran.’ Amy suddenly laid her face against her grandmother’s, and when Muriel hugged her close with a strength which belied her frail frame the two of them clung to each other for long moments.
Chapter 5
By the time Amy and Kitty left the warmth of Binns later that day after a delicious tea of wafer-thin sandwiches and cream cakes, it was quite dark outside. Fawcett Street was still thronged with Saturday shoppers despite the snow which had begun to fall thickly again, but the bright lights from the shops and the hustle and bustle all added to the magic of a perfect afternoon.
On leaving her grandmother’s house they had gone next door to Mrs Price. Kitty’s mother had presented ‘the birthday girl’ with a beautifully knitted scarf and gloves in bright red wool, along with two lace handkerchiefs in a little box.
After talking the matter over with Kitty and Mrs Price, Amy had decided to leave her precious photograph safely tucked up in Kitty’s bedroom until there came a time when she could have it herself. Sharing a bedroom with Eva, Harriet and the twins meant nothing was private at home. For the same reason she had left the little passbook which the post office had given her after she had deposited the three pounds with them in Kitty’s care too.
‘Well, lass, it’s been an unusual sort of afternoon.’ Kitty grinned at her as they made their way to the tram stop, the snow already coating their hats and shoulders. ‘Fancy your gran having that money hidden away all them years.’
Amy smiled back but said nothing. To be truthful, the contents of the little pouch hadn’t thrilled her a tenth as much as the photograph of her mother. She had stared and stared at it all the time she was in Kitty’s house and it had been hard to part with it when they had left. But it was for the best to leave it where it was. She gave mental confirmation to the thought. Not only would her grandma be in trouble with her granda if it was discovered at home but for years now any little items she possessed had a tendency to go missing or get spoiled. The mother-of-pearl hairbrush her Aunt Kitty had bought her for her eleventh birthday had lasted a week before she’d found it smashed at the bottom of the stairs; items of clothing tended to get snagged or torn, hair ribbons went missing, the Bible she’d been presented with at Sunday School had deep grooves in its cover and several of its pages were loose. The list was endless.
‘I have to say you could have knocked me over with a feather when I saw what your gran had got. I didn’t—’ Kitty stopped abruptly, clutching hold of Amy’s arm as she said in some surprise, ‘Isn’t that Perce standing at the tram stop? It is, I’m sure of it.’
At that moment the tall broad youth turned to face them, a smile spreading across his face and his voice jolly as he called, ‘Well, well, well! What are you two doing in this neck of the woods?’
‘Just been to tea at Binns, no less.’ Kitty’s voice was equally gay as she replied, the small pause when she had waited for Amy to speak swallowed up as she went on, ‘And you? I thought football was the order of the day on a Saturday afternoon for you and the rest of Sunderland’s male population?’
Perce laughed. He waited for them to reach him before he said, tapping his finger against the side of his nose, ‘I had to see a pal in town about a spot of business he’d got going down. I left Da and the others at the match, they’ll tell me what happened and the score.’
All this time Perce hadn’t once looked at Amy, he had kept his eyes fixed on the woman at her side. Now his gaze turned to his cousin. ‘You on your way home?’ he asked easily.
He had known she was finishing the afternoon with Aunt Kitty by having tea at Binns. He had probably heard her tell his mam earlier or something but he
had
known. She had never been more sure of anything in her life.There had been no pal, no business. She felt suddenly weak and sick, all her half-formed fears and misgivings of the last months coming together to tell her Perce liked her - in
that
way. The way a lad likes a lass. She forced herself to nod. ‘Yes, I’m going home.’
had
known. She had never been more sure of anything in her life.There had been no pal, no business. She felt suddenly weak and sick, all her half-formed fears and misgivings of the last months coming together to tell her Perce liked her - in
that
way. The way a lad likes a lass. She forced herself to nod. ‘Yes, I’m going home.’
‘Me too.’ His eyes left her and returned to Kitty. ‘Seems daft you coming all the way to ours only to come all the way back when I’m on hand to see she don’t get lost in the snow,’ he said jovially.
Kitty looked at him uncertainly. Put like that it did sound daft but she always saw Amy home. ‘Amy?’
Amy drew in a deep silent breath. If she said she wanted Aunt Kitty to accompany her on the journey, Perce would know she was frightened of him. ‘It’s coming down thicker than ever,’ she said, marvelling that her voice sounded so normal. ‘You don’t want to have to walk back if they stop the trams, Aunt Kitty.’
‘No, I suppose not.’ Kitty sounded relieved. She turned to Perce. ‘It
is
a night and a half,’ she said gratefully, ‘and if you’re going straight home ...’
is
a night and a half,’ she said gratefully, ‘and if you’re going straight home ...’
‘Wouldn’t be going anywhere else in this weather.’
‘All right then.’ Kitty turned to Amy. ‘I’ll see you next week then, lass. Here, have the tram fare.’
‘No need.’ Perce reached out and placed a large meaty hand on Kitty’s arm as she began to open her bag. ‘I’ve got it. Look, here’s the tram now. Bye, Kitty.’
‘Bye. Bye, lass.’ Kitty suddenly sounded unsure but as they stepped onto the tram she didn’t follow them, merely waving somewhat forlornly as the tram creaked away.
Amy felt very small and insignificant as she sat down on one of the wooden seats. Perce sat down beside her, his big brawny torso dwarfing her. ‘Had a nice time?’ he asked.
‘Yes, lovely.’
‘Called in to see Gran as normal, I suppose?’
She was aware of his eyes burning into the side of her face but she kept her gaze trained straight ahead as she nodded. ‘She looks forward to it. It can’t be much fun being stuck in that bed all the time.’
‘Suppose not.’ He didn’t sound interested.
Despite the butterflies in her stomach it riled her enough to look at him. ‘It wouldn’t hurt the rest of you to call in more often.’
His eyes narrowed and then opened again. ‘I will if that’s what you want,’ he said softly. ‘I’ll go for you.’
She’d known it, hadn’t she known he’d planned this? ‘It’s not what
I
want,’ she said sharply. ‘You should
want
to go, she’s your grandma.’
I
want,’ she said sharply. ‘You should
want
to go, she’s your grandma.’
He didn’t reply to this. What he did say was, and in a tone that made her embarrassed, ‘I’ll go and see her every day if you want me to. I’ll do anything for you, Amy. You must know that.’
‘Don’t be silly.’ She knew her face was burning but she couldn’t do anything about the hot colour; she had never felt so uncomfortable. She glanced nervously around, hoping no one could hear them.
‘I’m not being silly and don’t pretend you don’t know how I feel about you. I’ve watched you, you know all right. Look,’ his tone, which had turned slightly angry, returned to its former soft persuasive whisper, ‘I want you to be my lass one day, that’s all I’m saying. You’ll be leaving school soon and lots of lasses take up with a lad then.’
She stared at him. ‘I’m only fourteen, I can’t have a lad.’
‘I don’t mind waiting a bit. Not for you.’
She wouldn’t have him as her lad even if she had to spend the rest of her life as an old maid. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it but Perce had always reminded her strongly of her Granda Shawe. ‘We live in the same house,’ she prevaricated quickly. ‘It wouldn’t be right. You’re like my brother.’
‘Like your brother, am I?’ He emitted a hard laugh that was more like a bark.‘And Bruce, is he like your brother too?’
‘Bruce?’
‘Don’t come the innocent, I’ve seen you two billing and cooing.’
Amy reared up in her seat, her voice louder than she intended as she said, ‘We have not!’
‘Anyone would have thought he’d given you a box of gold nuggets rather than a box of cheap chocolates.’Then his voice changed again. ‘Look, I don’t want to argue with you, Amy, and I bought you something for your birthday but I wanted to give it to you when we were by ourselves.’
He had been reaching into his jacket pocket as he spoke and when he drew out a small package she stared at it, making no move to take it.
‘Go on.’ He shoved it into her lap. ‘I told you, it’s for you.’
Her hands shaking slightly, Amy undid the string holding the brown paper together. It unfolded to display an item of clothing, a silk and lace petticoat with ribboned shoulder straps. She knew instinctively this was not the sort of gift a lad should give a girl. She looked at it in the same manner in which a rabbit would view the snake about to bite it, her hands falling limply by her side and the petticoat lying across her lap.
‘Don’t you like it?’
‘I can’t take this. You know I can’t take it.’
‘I know nothing of the sort.’
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