Walking My Baby Back Home Read online

  ‘If yer’ve got a penny to spare, Mam, will yer get us a comic?’

  Dot turned on her way to the door, intending to tell him she didn’t have a penny to spare. But one look at the pleading in his eyes and she relented. All week he’d carried out the chores he was supposed to get sixpence for, and he hadn’t kicked up a stink when she’d told him that this week he’d have to do without his pocket money because she needed every penny. Katy had understood the need to economise, but Colin wasn’t twelve until next week; he was only a kid and would have preferred his pocket money to having the room decorated. ‘I think I can spare a penny, son, I’ll bring a comic in with me. But you behave yerself, d’yer hear?’

  Her hand was reaching up to open the front door when the knocker sounded and she jumped with fright. ‘Blast,’ she said, under her breath. ‘Who the hell can this be?’

  ‘Oh, I’ve caught you on the way out.’ John looked embarrassed as he held a bag towards her. ‘I’ll just hand this over and let you get about your business.’

  It was the first time he’d called since Christmas Day and Dot thought they’d seen the last of him. ‘What’s in the bag?’

  ‘A couple of things for Mary, nothing special.’

  Dot held the door wide and stepped back. ‘Yer’d better come in.’ She didn’t mean to sound so abrupt, and it wasn’t that she wasn’t glad to see him, it was just that he couldn’t have chosen a worse time to call.

  But if his mother’s reception had been lukewarm, Colin’s was just the opposite. He was overjoyed to see the big man again and it showed on his face. ‘Hello, Mr Kershaw! I’m glad yer’ve come ’cos I was beginning to think we wouldn’t see yer no more.’

  ‘Hello, Colin.’ John ruffled the boy’s hair. ‘A Happy New Year to you.’ He turned to Dot and held out his hand. ‘And to you, Dot.’

  Feeling like a heel because of her rudeness, Dot took his hand. ‘I’m sorry, John, I’m forgetting me manners. It’s just that I’ve done nothing but rush around all day, like a cat chasing its ruddy tail. I’ve been to work, done me shopping for the house, and now I’m off to buy the paper and paint for this room. If I haven’t got it when Katy comes home, she’ll never forgive me.’

  ‘You know how much of everything you need, do you? Tins of paint, rolls of paper and border?’

  Dot’s face fell. ‘I’d forgotten about the border. I know I need six rolls of paper ’cos Betty Mason told me, and I’ll get a big tin of paint.’

  ‘At the risk of being told to mind my own business, Dot, you need a lot more than the paper and paint. The ceiling will have to be white-washed before you even think of putting paper on the walls, and the woodwork must have an undercoat.’

  ‘I’m not doing the ceiling,’ Dot said. ‘I’d never be able to manage that. I get dizzy standing on the front step, never mind climbing to the top of a ruddy ladder.’

  John’s brows nearly touched his hairline. ‘You are not intending to decorate this room yourself, are you?’

  ‘I don’t see anybody else around, do you?’ Dot was getting irritated. ‘Of course I’m doing it meself, what’s wrong with that?’

  ‘I know I’m going to rub you up the wrong way, but I don’t want you throwing good money away.’ John pointed to the ceiling with its ten years of dust and soot-marks. ‘That would have to be done before you put nice new paper on the walls, otherwise it’ll stand out like a sore thumb.’

  Dot’s anger came because she knew he was right. ‘I’m not doing the ceiling because I can’t ruddy-well do the ceiling, so that’s all there is to it.’

  ‘I’ll do it for you.’

  Colin moved to stand beside John as though taking sides. ‘Yeah, Mam, let Mr Kershaw do it. He’s big enough to reach up there without the ladder.’

  ‘The ceiling stays as it is,’ Dot said, even though she knew she was cutting off her nose to spite her face. ‘And if I don’t get out now the shops will be shutting.’

  ‘You’re a stubborn woman, Mrs Baker,’ John said quietly. ‘Why won’t you accept help from someone who is not only willing, but wants to help?’

  ‘I am not a stubborn woman, I’m a practical one.’ Then Dot met his eyes and pulled a face. ‘Yes, I am a stubborn woman, ye’re right. It’s just that I’ve been both man and woman in this house for the last ten years and I can’t get out of the habit.’

  ‘Will you let me help, then?’

  Dot nodded. ‘Yes, and I’ll be very grateful.’

  ‘Then I’ll come to the shops with you now because there’s things you’ll need that you won’t even think about. Besides, you’ll never manage to carry so much on your own.’

  Dot was thoughtful for a while. She had been worried about how she was going to cope, she’d even thought of taking Colin with her but decided he’d be more hindrance than help. ‘All right, but on one condition.’

  ‘You’ve very fond of making conditions, aren’t you?’ John grinned. ‘What have I got to agree to this time?’

  ‘That I go out the front and you go out the back.’

  ‘What! Don’t you think that’s carrying things a bit too far? Are you ashamed of being seen with me?’

  ‘Of course not!’ Dot eyed his good-quality suit and overcoat, and the trilby hat he was holding in his hand. With the old coat she was wearing, the boot should be on the other foot. ‘But I’m not walking down the street with yer and setting all the tongues wagging. The gossips would have a field day, I’d never hear the end of it.’

  John would have liked to have reminded her that she was a free woman and could please herself what she did, but wisely he kept his thoughts to himself. ‘I’ll meet you in Hawthorne Road, at the bottom of Willard Street. Does that suit you?’

  Dot nodded. ‘I know yer think I’m barmy, but I can’t help the way I’m made.’ She glanced at the bag on the table. ‘Is there anything in that bag that yer can put in yer mouth and chew? If there is yer’d better warn my son to keep his hands off it or he’ll scoff the lot.’

  Colin was cut to the quick. ‘I will not! I won’t touch it, Mr Kershaw.’

  ‘It’s just a bit of fruit and a jar of malt and cod liver oil. I thought they might help to build Mary’s strength up.’

  ‘You’re too good to be true, you are.’ Dot smiled at him before pointing to the kitchen. ‘Out yer go and I’ll meet yer in five minutes.’

  ‘I like that one the best.’ Dot went back to the first roll of paper the man behind the counter had opened up for her. It had a light beige background with small sprays of flowers on. ‘Do you like it, John?’

  ‘Yes, it’s nice and light and will brighten the room up. Also, the pattern’s so small there’ll be no need to match and so no waste of paper.’

  ‘I’ll take six rolls,’ Dot told the assistant. Then, mindful of how much she had in her purse, she said to John, ‘I’ll buy the stuff for the ceiling and get the paint another time.’

  ‘There’s no need for you to buy whitewash, I’ve got plenty of it at home. I’ll never use it all if I live to be a hundred, so it would be silly to waste your money when I’ve got bags of the stuff lying in my wash-house.’ When Dot looked dubious, John bent down so their eyes were on a level. ‘It costs coppers, Dot, for heaven’s sake. You don’t buy it in a tin, like paint, it’s a powder that you have to mix with water.’

  ‘Are you telling me the truth?’

  ‘You’ll see for yourself when I mix it in your bucket, with water from your tap.’ John suddenly let out a loud chuckle. ‘I’ve just thought of a good name for you – Doubting Dorothy.’

  Dot scratched her forehead. ‘That’s not fair, I can’t think of a word that goes with John. But when me mind’s clear I’ll come up with something. I’m not having you get the better of me even if yer are going to whitewash me ceiling with yer own whitewash.’

  When the assistant came back with the six rolls of paper, John watched as Dot counted the money out to him. He could almost hear her counting up how much she had left and knew she was wondering
whether she’d have enough for the other things she needed. ‘Just get the undercoat for now, Dot,’ he advised. ‘Leave the gloss paint for another day. It’s going to be near the end of next week before we need it because there’s a lot to do before the gloss goes on.’

  ‘OK, I’ll do that. What size tin of undercoat do I need?’

  ‘What colour do you want the paintwork?’

  ‘I’d like a cream colour – the brown we’ve got on now gives me the willies.’

  It was John who told the assistant. ‘The lady would like a large tin of white undercoat.’

  When Dot saw the size of the tin she nearly fainted. She’d never have enough on her for that! ‘I don’t need such a big tin, it’s only a small room.’

  ‘Yes, it’s a small room, but if you want the paintwork cream, it’ll need two coats to cover the brown. If you want the room to look nice, don’t try and skimp.’ John turned his back to the counter so the man couldn’t hear him whisper, ‘Stop doubting me, Dorothy.’

  ‘I’ll get me own back on you, just you wait and see,’ Dot whispered back before smiling at the assistant. ‘How much is it? I might not have enough money on me.’

  ‘Three and sixpence.’

  Dot’s smile widened. Thank God for that, she could just make it.

  John insisted on carrying both paper and paint. ‘And I’m walking down the street with you, no more cloak and dagger stuff for me. Besides, aren’t you being a bit miserable, depriving your neighbours of some juicy gossip?’

  ‘I’ll tell them that ye’re me long-lost brother what’s been living in Australia for the last fifteen years. That should put a stop to any jangling.’

  John laughed down at her as she tried to keep up with his long strides. ‘You should have no trouble getting away with that story, because the resemblance between us is remarkable. We could easily pass for brother and sister, particularly in the dark.’

  Dot pursed her lips. ‘Yeah, ye’re right. If yer hair and eyes were a different colour, if yer nose was turned up instead of straight and yer had a dark complexion and thick lips, we’d be the spitting image of one another.’

  Much to Dot’s embarrassment, two of her neighbours were standing talking in the street and when they saw John they made no attempt to hide their curiosity as they eyed him up and down. ‘Hello, Dot, goin’ to be busy, are yer?’

  ‘I’m going to give it a try, Judy. Hello there, May.’

  John inclined his head. ‘You’ll have to forgive me, ladies, I’m afraid I can’t doff my hat to you because, as you can see, my hands are full. But I bid you a very good evening.’ He gave each of the ladies a bright smile before walking on, leaving them to look at each other with wide eyes and open mouths.

  Dot was bursting with laughter but she managed to control it until they were in her living room where she doubled up. ‘Oh dear, oh dear! Did yer see their faces?’

  Colin looked at the tears running down his mother’s face and asked, ‘What happened, Mam? What are yer laughing at?’

  Dot fished in her pocket for a hankie and blew her nose. ‘Two of the neighbours were in the street, son, and I’ll bet any money that right now they’re trying to figure out whether John’s a nut-case or I’ve got meself a posy fancy man.’

  ‘Why, what did he say to them?’

  Dot reached up and took John’s trilby from his head. When she put it on it was far too big for her and dropped down to cover her eyes and ears. Undeterred, she held out her arms as though she was laden down. ‘It won’t be word for word, but near enough. “You’ll have to forgive me, ladies, I’m afraid I can’t doff my hat to you because, as you can see, my hands are full. But I bid you a very good evening”.’

  While Colin put a hand over his mouth and shook with laughter, John chuckled. ‘Not a bad impersonation. D.D.’

  Dot narrowed her eyes when the penny dropped. Pushing the trilby to the back of her head, she said to her son, ‘Your friend, John Kershaw, has given me a very unflattering nickname. Doubting Dorothy, he calls me. Now I’d like to return the compliment but can’t think of a word beginning with “J”.’

  ‘I can, Mam! What about Jumping John?’

  ‘No, that’s no good. If he jumped in this room he’d put a ruddy hole in the ceiling. Anyway, it’s not insulting enough. I’ll just bide me time until I can come up with a belter.’

  ‘While you’re deciding on a name for me, I’ll nip home and get changed,’ John said. ‘And I’ll organise the whitewash and brushes.’

  ‘Right.’ Dot followed him to the front door. ‘Alec is lending us his ladder and a paint brush . . . he’s bringing them down later – and Betty said she’d come and give us a hand to get the old paper off.’

  ‘Have you got a couple of scrapers? One is no good between four of you.’

  ‘We’ll have to use knives, won’t we? Where there’s a will, there’s a way.’

  ‘I’ll see what I’ve got at home.’ John stepped into the street. ‘I’ll see you later.’

  ‘Don’t come too early, ’cos Katy doesn’t get in until just after six and we’ll be having our meal then.’ Dot gave a short snort. ‘Some meal . . . chips from the chippy.’

  ‘I’ll be having the same myself, I’m afraid, so don’t be feeling sorry for yourself.’ John walked two steps away, hesitated, then came back. ‘Would you mind if I brought my chips here to eat? For that matter I could get yours at the same time, save making two journeys.’

  Dot folded her arms and leaned against the side of the door. ‘Let’s get something straight, John, and clear the air once and for all. Yer’ve been very good to us and I really appreciate it, but I’ve got to say what’s on me mind. Yer might think I’m feeling sorry for meself again when yer hear what I’ve got to say, but I don’t. Oh, there’s been times when I’ve thought fate had dealt me a lousy hand, but I’ve never suffered from self-pity. I’ve got two lovely children and that’s enough to want to live for. I’ve always been straight with them, explaining why we were hard-up and they couldn’t have the things their friends were getting. We talk everything through, as a family, and each of us is entitled to an opinion. When Katy started work I told them that life wouldn’t be any different for quite a while because I want to use her wages to make this house a halfway decent home for them – a nice place where they’d be proud to invite their friends in. And they agreed. So tonight, we’ll be having threepenny-worth of chips and scallops between us. No fish, chips and mushy peas, we can’t afford such a luxury, not for a while, anyway.’ She took a deep breath and smiled at him. ‘So now you have the picture and we know where we stand.’

  ‘I’ve had the picture since the first time I set foot in your house, Dot. You’re a very good mother and have done an excellent job in bringing up the children – they’re a credit to you. And seeing as we’re having a heart-to-heart, I’ll tell you why, on the night I knocked Colin down, I didn’t just dump him and leave. Most boys would have been crying, trying to save their own skins by laying the blame firmly at my door. He didn’t, and I don’t think the thought even entered his head. I took a liking to the lad for his honesty, and after meeting the rest of his family I took a liking to them, too.’

  John pulled up the collar of his coat to protect his ears from the cold and turned, ready to walk away. ‘Now you’ve said what you wanted to say, and I respect your wishes, I’ll still call in the chippy on my way here and get fourpennyworth of chips and scallops which we’ll share. And if it makes you feel better, I’ll take your threepence then. Does that meet with your approval, D.D.?’

  ‘It certainly does.’ Dot half-closed the door before adding, ‘I’ll see you later, J.J.’

  John tried not to let his surprise show when Katy handed him his share of chips in a piece of newspaper. He put them on his lap waiting to be handed a fork, but when the others sat down and proceeded to eat with their fingers, he followed suit. And he had to admit that chips had never tasted so good. He thought of his mother and how strict she’d been over good table m
anners. If she could see him now she’d be horrified. Then suddenly in his mind’s eye there flashed a picture of her as she was a few years before she died, and she was smiling as though happy for him.

  ‘Have yer finished, Mr Kershaw?’ Katy was standing before him. ‘I’ll take the paper off yer and put it on the fire.’

  He screwed the paper up before handing it to her. ‘I enjoyed that, very tasty.’

  ‘Yeah, yer can’t beat chips, can yer? Here’s Billy with a cup of tea.’

  ‘I haven’t brought yer tea,’ Billy said, blushing. ‘Mrs Baker wants to know if yer’d rather have a cup with a handle and no saucer, or a saucer and a cup with no handle?’

  John chuckled. ‘Bit of a tongue-twister that, eh, Billy?’ He held his chin in his hand and looked serious. ‘That’s a big decision to have to make. I’ll need to give it some thought.’

  Dot poked her head around the door. ‘Come on, slowcoach, make up yer mind before it’s time to go to bed.’

  ‘I’ll settle for the cup with a handle. Oh, and Dot, I’ll need to wash this ceiling and frieze down, the soot is caked on it. Would you put the kettle on for extra hot water, please?’

  ‘Will do.’ There came a hammering on the door and Dot grinned. ‘That’ll be Betty, she’s got a real moneylender’s knock. I keep expecting her to put the blinkin’ door in.’

  ‘Well, well, well!’ The big woman breezed in, a wide smile on her chubby face. ‘What have we here, then – a flippin’ party?’

  ‘Are we heck,’ Dot said. ‘We’re just having a quick cuppa then we’ll all roll our sleeves up and get stuck in.’

  ‘I may as well take the weight off me feet while I’m waiting, then.’ Betty lowered herself on to one of the wooden chairs. ‘How’s it going, John? I never expected to see you here.’

  ‘I offered to do the ceiling for Dot, seeing as she can’t stand heights.’

  Dot prodded her friend’s shoulder. ‘Don’t tell me the gossip hasn’t spread to you yet? I’m surprised at yer, Betty Mason, you’re usually the first to know what’s going on in the street. Yer must be slipping.’