The District Nurses of Victory Walk

‘Yes, just amateur for now, but he thinks he’s going to make it big.’ Edith nodded. ‘Imagine! He could be famous. He’s already been in the local paper. This is just the start, he says.’

‘Goodness.’ Alice didn’t know much about boxing and wasn’t sure what to say. It sounded like a dangerous hobby.

‘Then he walked me all the way home. We couldn’t stop talking. You know sometimes you run out of things to say to someone – well, it wasn’t like that at all. You’d like him, Al. He knows lots of stuff.’

‘Maybe,’ said Alice.

‘I said we’d meet him, you and me and Mary, and he’ll bring along his friends.’

‘I don’t know …’

‘Oh, don’t be a spoilsport, Al. You’d have fun. You can’t hide away with your books for the rest of your life. Not after Mark and everything …’

Alice pushed back her hair behind her ears. ‘I’m not hiding away. I just like a nice night in with my books. We’ll see. I’m sure Mary will go out with you. Anyway, how did you get back in? Isn’t it after curfew? Oh, Edie, not again!’

Edith shook her dark curls. ‘No, no, it’s fine – I was just in time. About thirty seconds to go, I reckon. I was very careful. Even so, I crept along so I wouldn’t wake Gwen or Fiona. So it’s all turned out fine.’

‘You were lucky though.’

‘That’s me,’ said Edith confidently. ‘Look, I’ll leave you to sleep.’

‘Don’t you want to know about your patient, the postman?’ Alice wondered.

‘Tell me tomorrow. Night night.’ Edith slipped out of the room as quietly as she’d come in.

Alice was left to try to get back to sleep, noting that Edith hadn’t asked what sort of evening she’d had. But then, she hadn’t tried to tell her. Maybe she should have mentioned meeting Joe, and his offer to find her the book. Then again, perhaps she’d keep that to herself for the time being. It was hardly the same thing. And she couldn’t quite explain the sensation that thinking of him gave her – no longer anger, or righteous indignation, but something not quite describable either.

CHAPTER EIGHT (#ulink_a99abdee-973e-5280-816c-2caed8f3b073)

Kathleen woke with a start and for a moment couldn’t work out what the noise was. She tried to make out the time on her battered old enamel alarm clock, but it was barely dawn and still too dark to see. The banging was coming from the front door. Still foggy from sleep, she swung her legs out of bed and pushed her feet into her well-worn slippers. She had to stop the banging before it woke Brian. He’d taken ages to get off last night and an early wake-up was the last thing he needed.

‘Kathleen! Open up!’ came a voice.

For a moment she was seized with terror. Last week a man had come to the door, banging on it just like this. It had been in the middle of the morning, as she was thinking about going to the market to see if there were any bargains; perhaps some rolls at the bakery left over from the day before that would be all right for toast. The man’s voice had been aggressive and she had instinctively ducked out of sight in case he tried to look through the window. Most people would have given up after a minute, assuming nobody was in, but this man had just kept on, then shouted, ‘I know you’re in there’ very loudly, enough to annoy the Coynes upstairs.

Mrs Coyne had come to the window. ‘What’s all the bleedin’ fuss about?’ she had demanded.

‘Where’s your neighbour?’ the man had shouted back.

‘How the hell should I know? I’m not her bleedin’ keeper, am I?’

There had been the sounds of shuffling feet as the man had indeed gone to peer through the window. Kathleen had crouched, trembling, against the wall beside the bed, praying the noise wouldn’t wake Brian.

‘Well, you tell her next time you see her that she’s behind with the rent and the landlord won’t stand for it. She’s got a week to make up the shortfall or she’s out,’ the man roared up at Mrs Coyne.

‘Tell her yerself, I ain’t doin’ your dirty work.’ She had slammed the window.

Kathleen had sent up a prayer of thanks. Usually the Coynes were the first to complain if she made too much noise or left baby clothes dripping for too long outside, but they didn’t like the landlord any more than she did.

A minute or so later, an envelope fluttered through her letterbox, addressed to her in an angry scrawl. Then there had been the sound of retreating footsteps. She had waited a further ten minutes before she felt safe to move to retrieve it. With shaking hands she tore it open, to find what she had feared: a demand to pay her rent arrears in full by this time next week or she’d be evicted. She had no way to find that amount of money. She could barely afford stale bread.

Dismayed, she’d forced herself up and made a cup of weak tea before collapsing at the little table. She knew she had to think, to plan, but no ideas came. Short of a miracle, or Ray sending some money, which was even more unlikely, she was done for.

She had no idea how long she had sat there like that, when there came another tap at the door, this time followed by a familiar voice, a friendly one.

‘Kath, you in?’

Kathleen sighed in relief and went to open the door. It was her old school friend, Billy Reilly. He worked down at the docks and occasionally did early or late shifts so he was free in the daytime. Now and again he would drop by, just for old times’ sake. She always loved to see him as he seemed to know what to say to cheer her up.

‘All right, Kath? How’s the nipper?’ Billy came in and then took in the expression on her face. ‘Kath, what’s up? You look like you seen a ghost.’

Kathleen hurriedly shoved the envelope in her patch pocket and ran her other hand through her hair, trying to appear normal. ‘Nothing, Billy. Nothing at all. How are you? Care for a cuppa?’ She spoke as brightly as she could. There was no way on this earth that she would admit to anyone how much money she owed. She went through to the tiny back kitchen to boil the kettle, gritting her teeth with the effort of not showing her despair.

Billy had always been kind to her at school, although they hadn’t known each other very well as he was in the year above her. He’d stayed friends with the Banhams, which meant she saw more of him, and they’d become friendlier. Then she’d met Ray, and everything else had taken second place.

She recalled one incident when she and Ray had been courting for a few months and he’d agreed to go to the pub with her old friends. Afterwards he’d been strangely quiet, his face tight with suppressed emotion. Finally she could bear it no more and asked what was wrong.

‘What’s the story between you and Billy?’ he had demanded.

She’d been taken totally by surprise. ‘Nothing. There’s no story. We was at school together, just like the rest of them.’

Ray had huffed in disbelief. ‘I don’t like the way he looks at you. You been leading him on or something?’

‘What? Billy? He’s a mate, nothing more,’ she had protested, sensing a side to Ray she hadn’t seen before. She’d known he could be very protective. But she hadn’t realised he could be jealous.

‘You make sure that’s all it is,’ he had snarled, gripping her arm and lowering his face close to hers, and for a moment she thought he was going to turn on her. Then he had smiled his usual charming smile and the dark moment passed. ‘There’s only one man for you, Kath, and that’s me. You don’t need no other,’ he had said, slinging his arm around her shoulder, and she had looked up at him and smiled back in delight, because she believed he would look after her and love her.

She shook her head. That had been a long time ago now.

The familiar ritual of making a pot of tea had calmed her, and by the time she’d brought it through to Billy, her hands were steady again.

He’d stayed for a while to make small talk, producing a little rattle he’d picked up ‘for next to nothing’ and waving it at a now fully awake Brian, who had waved his arms back. Kathleen had beamed in pleasure, watching another stage of her baby learning how to reach for an object, loving his big smile.