Another week passed and Constance wasn’t sure she could stand living in Kibble Street for much longer. She’d been unhappy at home, before and after her mother died, but that unhappiness was nothing to how she felt now. She avoided going out as much as possible, knowing that when she did some neighbours would scowl at her, calling her all sorts of names, and it was wearing her down.
She was also unhappy with the way Albie behaved. He was rarely home, and when he was, he spent his time either criticising her or ignoring her. She’d always lacked confidence, but she was now beginning to feel worthless. She felt trapped – trapped in a loveless marriage. She hadn’t known what to expect when she married Albie, but at least she’d hoped to be shown some affection. After her mother’s coldness and her father’s indifference, it was something she craved.
There was only one person who had ever shown her any affection, and that was Ethel, so on Monday morning Constance left the housework and the ironing to cycle to see her in her flat near Northcote Road. It was quite a long ride, the wind snapping at her and making her eyes water, but Constance forged on. When she at last arrived she parked the bike on the small front path and knocked on her door.
‘Well, I’ll be buggered. I was just thinking about you and here you are at my door. Come in, it’s good to see you.’
Ethel’s welcome was so warm that tears welled in Constance’s eyes. ‘Oh, Ethel.’
‘I can see something’s wrong. Sit down, I’ll make us both a cup of tea, and then you can tell me what the problem is.’
‘Where … where’s Mary?’ Constance asked when Ethel returned with the tea.
‘She’s got herself a job and started it this morning. It’s a waitressing job in the market café.’
‘That’s nice,’ Constance said dully.
‘Yes, I’ll tell you more about it later, but for now get that down you and tell me what the problem is.’
‘I hate it, Ethel. Hate my marriage and living in Kibble Street.’
‘Right, one thing at a time. What’s wrong with your marriage?’
‘Albie is hardly ever home and when he is, he’s so cold, Ethel … I … I think he hates me.’
‘Hate is a strong word,’ Ethel said, pausing as though to gather her thoughts. ‘It could be that Albie feels he was forced into the marriage and feels trapped.’
‘He wasn’t forced. My father bribed him and he was happy to take his money. As for feeling trapped – it’s me that feels trapped. I dread leaving the house, because as soon as I show my face in Kibble Street some of the neighbours call me dreadful names. I … I’m not a tart, Ethel. I’ve only been with Albie, and that was just once.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that. Women can be cruel, but if you hold your head high and pretend that what they say doesn’t bother you, they’ll soon get fed up.’
‘I wish I didn’t have to live there, and … and I think that Albie might be having an affair.’
‘What! No, I can’t believe that. You’ve only been married for a couple of weeks.’
‘That’s just it, Ethel. We may be married, but we’re not living as husband and wife. Albie obviously finds me distasteful and he hasn’t touched me. Not even once …’ Constance sobbed, the tears falling in earnest now.
‘Oh, you poor girl. Come here,’ Ethel said, rising to her feet and pulling Constance into her arms. ‘I wish there was something I could do – wish I could give Albie a good talking-to, but you know how he feels about me so it isn’t possible.’
‘Why have both Albie and Dora cut you out of their lives?’
‘If I tell you I reckon you’ll turn against me too.’
‘Nothing could make me do that, Ethel. You’ve been like a mother to me and … and I love you.’
‘Oh, bless you, darling. All right, I’ll tell you, if only to take your mind off your own troubles for a while,’ she said, giving her another hug. ‘Now sit down again.’
Constance listened quietly while Ethel explained the whole story, and frowned when it came to an end. ‘Why didn’t you post Dora’s letters?’ she asked.
‘Because I was an interfering mother and thought I knew what was best for my daughter. I felt she should go out with other boys, that she was too young to commit herself to Billy.’
‘If you didn’t open Dora’s letters, I can see why you didn’t know she was pregnant, but later, when you found out, why didn’t you post the letter to Billy’s commanding officer?’
Ethel heaved a sigh. ‘Because I’m selfish, that’s why. I’ve never been a great beauty, and never understood why my husband married me. He was so handsome, and Albie takes after him, both blond, with lovely blue eyes, and well, I adored Fred. I was afraid to admit to what I’d done because I didn’t want him to think badly of me and stop loving me. So I lied, Constance, and I’ve regretted it every day since. I put myself before my daughter and I lost her, my grandson too. I don’t blame them for not wanting me in their lives.’
‘Oh, Ethel. I’m—’
‘I know, you’re going to say you’re disgusted with me,’ she interrupted, ‘and no doubt you won’t want to see me again.’
‘No, Ethel, I wasn’t going to say that. I was going to say how sorry I am, and though what you did was wrong, I think you’ve suffered enough.’
Ethel sniffed and pulling a handkerchief from up her sleeve, she blew her nose. ‘I wish I could turn back time – wish I could put it right. It’s the only really bad thing I’ve ever done, and it lost me my family.’
‘There must be something I can do.’
‘There’s no point in trying. Albie and Dora’s minds are set, and if you try to interfere they won’t thank you. It would only make things worse for you.’
‘Ethel … can … can I live here? I don’t mind sleeping on the sofa and I can do the housework for you, even a bit of simple cooking.’
‘Oh, pet, I’d love to say yes, but I’m afraid our tenancy agreement doesn’t allow us to have anyone else living here. If we break the agreement we could be chucked out.’
‘I shouldn’t have asked. I’m being selfish and even if you could take me in, I couldn’t expect you and Mary to keep me. I’ll just have to stay with Albie.’
‘You’re carrying his child, love, and once it’s born I reckon you’ll see a big difference in him. He’s sure to love it and it’ll bring you closer together.’
‘I’m not sure I want us to be closer.’
‘I don’t recognise the Albie you’ve described to me. He was always such a lovely young man, a charmer, and you once saw that for yourself. Don’t give up on your marriage yet, Constance. Talk to Albie, tell him how you feel, and it might make him take a good look at himself and the way he’s been treating you.’
‘I suppose I could give it a try.’
‘That’s my girl. Now go and make us a fresh pot of tea and I’ll tell you all about Mary’s new job.’
Mary was running around, doing her best to keep up with the orders, but at the same time enjoying the banter with the costermongers. Helen, the other waitress, occasionally gave her a hand, but with her own tables to wait on, there was only so much she could do.
‘Did you stick your finger in an electric plug this morning?’ a market trader asked.
Mary frowned. ‘No. What makes you think that?’
‘It’s your hair, darlin’, it’s all frizzy and sticking up.’
‘Leave her alone, Larry,’ another man said. ‘You’re hardly God’s gift to women.’
‘Yeah,’ Larry said, laughing. ‘You’re right there. When I look in the mirror I frighten meself.’
Mary giggled, and licking the end of her pencil she took their order. She wasn’t offended by what Larry said. She’d been called names in the kids’ home, and had learned that it was better to laugh them off. ‘Do you want baked beans with that?’ she asked Larry.
‘No thanks, sweetheart. I don’t want to be shooting bunnies all day.’
‘Shooting bunnies?’
‘He means farting, love.’
‘Oh, I see. Right then, no beans.’
As Mary took their order to the kitchen, she was smiling. So far she loved this job and it was a big improvement on her last one. ‘Another order, Percy,’ she called.
‘Righto. How’s it going out there? Are they behaving themselves?’
‘Yeah, they’re all right. I like them.’
‘Pat, the waitress you’ve replaced, couldn’t stand their bawdy jokes. Are you sure you’ll be able to cope?’
‘Better to listen to jokes than moans, so yes, I’m sure I’ll be fine.’
‘Right then, off you go.’
For the rest of the morning, Mary continued to enjoy the work, and though she made a few mistakes, Percy was patient with her and said she would soon improve. ‘For your first morning, you ain’t done badly,’ he said when the morning rush cleared. ‘It’s time for your break now so what do you fancy to eat? How about a nice bacon sarnie? Lunch is included, a perk of the job.’
‘In that case, yes, please.’
‘Right, pour your own tea and I’ll give you a shout when it’s ready.’
In the lull, Helen came over to talk to her, but as her break was to follow she didn’t sit down. ‘I heard what Larry said about your hair. Don’t let it worry you.’
‘I won’t. I grew up in a kids’ home and I heard worse than that.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry. That must have been awful for you.’
‘No, not really. I was in there from when I was a baby so it’s all I knew.’
‘So you haven’t got a family, parents?’
‘No, but I’ve got the next best thing. I live with an old girl called Ethel, and she’s become like a grandmother to me.’
‘That’s nice, I’m glad to hear that. Right, I’d best get on. Those tables won’t clear themselves.’
Mary sipped her tea, her eyes on Helen as she worked. She liked her, thought her very pretty and hoped they could become friends. She loved Ethel, but it would be nice to have a friend of around her own age.
Constance stayed with Ethel until gone two, but rather than make matters worse by not doing her chores, she cycled home.
‘Where the hell have you been?’ Albie shouted as she walked in the door.
It was the first time he’d been there during the day, and, unprepared, she said the first thing that came into her head. ‘I’ve been for a ride on my bicycle.’
‘What, since nine-thirty this morning? And you needn’t deny it ’cos Penny saw you leave.’
‘Oh, so she wasn’t with you then?’
‘No, of course not. What makes you think that?’
‘Because neither of you have jobs, but you both seem to disappear all day.’
‘You soppy cow. That doesn’t mean we’re together.’
‘So where do you go every day?’
‘If you must know, I’ve been helping a mate to fix up his house.’
‘Really? If that’s the case, why do you never come home looking dirty?’
‘’Cos I wear overalls, not that it’s any of your business.’
‘Albie, why are you so cold and hard towards me? What have I done?’
‘You don’t show me any respect. Instead you enjoy showing me up, and that started on the day after our wedding.’
‘I don’t understand. How did I show you up?’
‘You acted superior and corrected me, said that you’d have called our Sunday dinner “lunch” instead.’
‘But I wasn’t correcting you. It’s just that what I call lunch, you call dinner. It was just one of the differences I noticed, that’s all.’
‘Yeah, well, it didn’t come across like that. I know you’re better educated than me, but I don’t like it when you make me look like a fool. It gets my back up.’
‘If you feel like that, I’m sorry, but honestly, Albie, I can’t go on like this. You … you’re hardly here and when you are you’re so unkind.’
‘I suppose I might have been a bit hard on you, but you still ain’t told me where you’ve been today?’
‘I told you, for a ride.’
‘There you go again, taking me for a mug, expecting me to believe that you’ve been riding around in the cold for five hours.’
Constance decided that attack might be the best defence and said, ‘You don’t tell me where you’re going when you go out.’
‘I told you I’ve been helping a mate out.’
‘What about in the evenings?’
‘I’m sometimes in the pub, or the snooker hall, and like I said, it’s none of your business.’
‘In that case, where I’ve been is none of your business.’
‘You’re my wife, and you will tell me where you’ve been.’
‘Oh, so you’re acknowledging the fact that we’re married now, but it’s a sham of a marriage that remains unconsummated. Am I that repulsive to you?’
‘Look, if you must know you’re carrying a kid and it puts me off.’
‘It’s your child, Albie.’
‘I know that, but I just can’t get it up while you’re pregnant.’
Constance was surprised. She hadn’t realised that pregnancy could put a man off. ‘I … I didn’t know.’
‘Yeah, well, now you do and I’m still waiting to hear where you’ve been today.’
Constance had tried to avoid this, changing the subject, but Albie always came back to it. ‘When I lived with my parents, they were very cold and distant. The only person who was kind to me and showed me any affection was Ethel. I grew very fond of her and that’s where I’ve been today. I went to see your gran.’
‘You fucking bitch! I’ve told you how I feel about my gran and I forbid you to see her again!’
‘You’ve never said why both you and your mother feel such malice towards her.’ Albie was going to speak but she held up her hand. ‘It’s all right. Ethel told me herself today, and though what she did was awful, she’s suffering for it. She’s lost her daughter and you, and deeply regrets what she did.’
‘So she should,’ Albie snapped.
‘It’s the only bad thing she’s ever done in her life and I wonder, when you get to her age, if you’ll be able to say the same. She loves you, Albie, so much, your mother too. Surely it’s time to let go of the past and forgive her.’
‘No way! I’ll never forgive her,’ Albie yelled and before she got a chance to say any more, he stormed out of the door.
Constance flopped onto a chair. Just when she thought they were getting somewhere, that Albie had softened, she’d ruined it. She hadn’t expected to care that Albie didn’t want her, she had welcomed not having to share his bed, but conversely she found she craved his affection, if only to be held in his arms.
Constance sat like that for a further five minutes, wishing she’d been able to come up with an excuse for being out for five hours, but she’d never been any good at telling lies. With a sad shake of her head she got up and dashed around tackling the housework. The ironing could wait until tomorrow, and thankfully it was only fried left-overs for dinner. Soon, the beds were made, the front room dusted, and the kitchen clean.
When Dora arrived home, she kicked off her shoes and signed with relief, before saying, ‘Hello, love, have you had a good day?’
Unwilling to admit that she and Albie had rowed, she just said, ‘I expect you’d like a cup of tea.’
‘Can a duck swim?’ Dora quipped.
Constance was about to go into the kitchen when the front door opened and Albie stormed in.
‘Have you told her? Have you told my mother where you’ve been today?’ Albie yelled. When Constance remained silent, he continued, ‘No, I thought not. But she’ll hear it from me.’
‘All right, there’s no need to shout,’ Dora said placatingly. ‘Let’s sit down and tell me quietly what this is all about.’
Dora sat, but Albie didn’t. He paced the small room as he spat out where Constance had been.
Dora reared to her feet, her face pinched with anger. ‘I’ve taken you in, Connie, treated you kindly, and this is how you repay me. You’ve been going to see my bitch of a mother behind my back.’
‘Please, listen to me. I know what she did was wrong,’ Constance protested, finding her voice, ‘but your mother isn’t a bitch. She’s a kind old lady who is desperately sorry for what she did, and you should find it in your heart to forgive her.’
‘What gives you the right to tell me what to do? It wasn’t your life she ruined, it was mine – and as for forgiving her, forget it.’
‘I’ve forbidden Connie to go there again,’ Albie said, his voice quieter now.
‘I should think so too.’
‘You’ve got no right to forbid me to do anything.’
‘As long as you’re living under my roof he has,’ Dora spat. ‘You’re my son’s wife and you will do as he says.’
Constance hardly recognised the harridan who now stood glaring at her. She’d thought she had Dora on her side, but by going to see Ethel she’d ruined the fledgling relationship. She nodded as though in agreement, but in truth, nothing was going to stop her from going to see Ethel. She’d just have to be careful to make sure that, in future, Albie and his mother didn’t find out.