Charlie mops his brow on his forearm and props his hoe against the shed. ‘Bits a bloomin’ wool everywhere. Yer daren’t move yer feet case yer gets tangled up in the darned stuff,’ he continues to grumble while he bends to rinse his hands at the tap that stands beside it.
‘You think you got trouble, Jess’s knittin’ fer two on the beggers!’ George pulls the bottom of his vest up and with both hands underneath, uses it as a towel to wipe sweat from his face. ‘What wi’ your Peter’s missus ‘n young ‘Elen.’
‘You wait ‘til they’re ‘ere, it’ll all be worth it.’ Ernie opens a folding chair and sets it in the shade along the side of the shed, next to the two he has already put out.
George grunts. ‘Won’t be no diff’rent fer me, we ain’t related.’ He notices the dirty patches on his vest and scowls in the knowledge that he risks falling foul of Jessie again and glares at the marks as though someone else has been responsible for putting them there.
‘You got gran’children though, ain’t yer so you knows what I’m sayin’s right.’ Ernie lowers himself thankfully onto one of the chairs and blows a sigh of relief at the respite from the sun. ‘Think we done enough fer t’day. Tha’s too blimmin’ hot out there! Reckon that’ll storm afore the day’s out.’ He looks out onto the allotments while his hands rest on the arms of the chair, turning to George as he sits beside him. ‘Ere! Didn’t you say what you was goin’ over t’see them others, once upon a time. Them in America?’
‘We was...but summat else come up. Lot a money t’go over there.’
‘You’ll ‘ave the money now though, won’t yer?’ Charlie retrieves a cool box from the shed and places it in front of them.
‘Got t’sell the thing first. Be glad when it’s off me ‘ands; keep ‘avin’ t’go ‘n do things about the place. We been an’ gone an’ done it once an’ then she’s still moanin’ I gotta go do it again.’
‘You got t’keep it up t’gether if yer wants folk int’rested. Edna says what ‘ouse soon gets fusty if yer don’t open a winder n’ the dust keeps comin’ even if you ain’t there!’ Charlie pops the top on a can of cider and nudges the box with his foot. ‘This ain’t ruddy waitress service, yer know!’
George views the day’s offering unenthusiastically and eventually chooses a bottle of bitter. ‘Jess ‘n ‘er are as bad as one n’other, keep pick, pick, pick all the bloomin’ time.’ He prises off the metal cap by jamming the neck between the crossed spars of Ernie’s chair. ‘It’s enough t’drive a man t’drink.’
‘They got a point though, ain’t they? Say what you likes about my Edna, she keeps our ‘ouse like a new pin an’ if she spots summat wants doin’, I gets an’ does it. Don’t take five minutes when yer does it like that. We ain’t up t’doin’ big jobs no more but if yer does it a bit at a time, looks tidy.’
‘Like we does up at the ‘otel.’ Ernie endorses what Charlie has said. ‘You can’t leave it ‘til it all wants doing, else we’d ‘ave t’close down t’put it t’rights! Summat gets done most days over ‘n above our reg’lar routine. S’only way, boy.’ He toasts the statement with another bottle before lifting it to his lips.
George looks neither to one side or the other, knowing any argument would be useless. His scowl seems permanently etched as he grunts what might pass as a plausible excuse for not having maintained the house properly. ‘There were talk of the copper’s boy, that one what lives up Manor Road there, I were gonna let ‘im ‘ave it at one time but that died a death.’
‘The one wha’s in Australia, married the little gal from the library?’
‘Tha’s the one. It were some idea a the boys.’
‘Which boy?’
‘I know the one yer mean.’ Charlie sups long and deep and belches before speaking again. ‘E’s back though ain’t ‘e? Leastways I saw ‘im ‘n ‘is mother out yesterday.’
‘Prob’ly come fer ‘oliday. They does it reg’lar. Dunno ‘ow they can bloomin’ well afford it. If ‘e ain’t comin’ over ‘ere, they’s goin’ over t’see ‘im. Must ‘ave money t’damn well burn!’
‘It don’t cost that much considerin’’ Ernie puts in, stretching out his legs and crossing them at the ankle. ‘There ain‘t nothin’ t’spend once they’re ‘ere, an’ yet when ‘is mother ‘n father goes over there, I shouldn’t wonder. It’s all a case of priorities,’ he says philosophically. ‘You wants summat bad enough, you don’t go spendin’ yer money on things you can do wi’out and you put a bit by instead. Soon mounts up. Course, you wouldn’t ‘ave t’do that. Tha’s a nice tidy sum you got comin.’
‘Aye. And I shall see the kids alright.’ George’s head wobbles, thinking his friends will be impressed by his largesse.
‘And a bit fer you an’ Jessie.’ Charlie says, satisfied rather than impressed, and folds one arm over his stomach as he lifts his other hand to slurp more cider.
‘Wha’s Jess got t’do wi’it?’
Charlie stares at George open-mouthed, stunned by the question. ‘Yer married, ain’t yer? Ain’t yer got a joint bank account? Me ‘n Edna’s ‘ad one fer years!’ he ignores George’s raised hand as he tries to butt in. ‘Gone’s the days when I’d bring ‘ome wage packet and she’d dole me out me pocket money.’ He chuckles at the memory but his smile is proud. ‘She could stretch money like nobody else I know. She ‘ad to afore she got job up at Manor ‘Ouse.’
‘We got ‘n account.’ George mutters. ‘She puts some in an’ I puts some in, an’ it pays bills. She ain’t gettin’ ‘er ‘ands on nothin’ wha’s mine, an’ tha’s that!’
‘But you’re livin’ in ‘er bloomin’ ‘ouse! An’ I don’t s’pose fer one minute she charges yer fer every bit o’grub she puts in front a yer, yet fer the lookin’ arter! Blimey, you wants yer cake ‘n eat it, you do. Tight as a duck’s arse.’
‘Ah...’ Ernie nods agreement. ‘An’ tha’s watertight.’
The Allotments
Chapter Fifty
Dell Cottage, Washbrook Lane
‘And nobody saw fit to tell me?’ Nathan finds it difficult to control the shake of his hands as he lights a cigarette. ‘You two didn’t...’ he stops pacing to level at Helen and Kester. ‘And you didn’t either!’ he glares at Stephanie. ‘That’s what’s got me. She came to this bloody house and you never said a fucking word!’
‘I think we can see why and if you could if see yourself in a mirror, you would too.’ Helen says evenly. ‘We knew you’d react like this and thought it was better left. We didn’t expect to see her again and we certainly didn’t anticipate she would try to contact you at all.’
‘If I’d’ve been here, I’d’ve killed her,’ he snarls angrily and pulls on his cigarette. ‘Throttled the bloody life out of her!’
Kester grimaces at the fall of paint and render when Nathan kicks the wall. ‘Understandable but not what you’d call sensible.’ He claps a hand on Nathan’s shoulder and gives it a squeeze. ‘Come on, sit down, you’re upsetting Steph. ‘
‘It’s alright for you!’ Nathan knocks his hand away. ‘You didn’t go through what I did because of that bitch!’
‘I saw what it did.’ Stephanie says in a small voice. ‘But we got past it. Everything’s okay with us, isn’t it? She didn’t destroy us, did she?’
‘I don’t know what to say.’ Helen looks up from where she sits on a wooden folding chair. ‘She’s my sister and she’s caused untold misery. I don’t know how or even if I should apologise for her.’ She unconsciously rubs at her bulging stomach as she speaks. ‘I’ve cut her out of my life; I don’t know what else I can do. I’m sorry.’
‘You alright?’ Kester frowns.
‘I’m a little uncomfortable,’ she smiles at his concern and laughs when he crouches by her side and lays his hand over hers. ‘I think Junior is telling me I am more upset than I thought.’
‘Can we all sit down and talk about something else?’ he issues his plea while looking directly at Nathan. ‘Another beer?’
‘I’ve still got,’ Nathan scowls, picking up his can from the table and weighing it with a shake. He flops resentfully onto the chair next to Stephanie. ‘Fucking bitch,’ he mutters before taking a long draught. ‘If she comes here again....’
‘If she thinks my Mum lives here, I don’t think she will.’ Stephanie’s smile is tentative in the face of Nathan’s hostility. ‘She wanted to murder her.’
‘Yeah?’ He produces a single bark of cynical laughter. ‘Good for her. Nice to know I’m not the only one.’
‘Think she got the message. She called her a harlot and a liar.’ She glances at Helen and bites her lip in mute apology.
‘And she’d be right!’ Helen laughs to show she has not been offended. ‘I wish I’d been here to see it. She’d take more notice of her than she’d ever take of me.’
‘And...’ Stephanie reaches for Nathan and laces her fingers through his, bending her arm to be able to kiss the back of his hand as reward for having calmed down. ‘She told her you were her son-in-law.’ She nods and smiles when he looks at her in surprise. ‘And when I called her on it, she said you’d earned the right,’ she finishes with a giggle. ‘And she was sure God would forgive her for telling fibs.’
‘Jeeze,’ he exhales the exclamation in a low hiss.
‘Seems you’ve got yourself a champion!’ Kester grins and raises his can in a toast. ‘Here’s to Mrs. P.’
‘Yeah...’ Nathan seems stunned as he raises his can in reply. ‘Mrs. P....My mother-in-law...... Bloody hell.’
