Kay Brellend 3-Book Collection: The Street, The Family, Coronation Day

Leaving Bobbie and Stevie on the pavement Alice scampered up the stairs, forgetting in her haste to avoid the spot in the landing floorboards that was broken. She stumbled, rubbed her shin, and tiptoed towards Aunt Fran’s door. She peeped around it, searching for her mum.

Tilly was sitting on the edge of the bed, bending over Fran who was restlessly twitching on the mattress. At that moment a groan issued from between Fran’s bluish lips.

‘Shall I go and see if Mrs Perkins is home?’ Alice volunteered in a quiet hiss.

‘Is your dad back with Jimmy?’ Tilly frowned over her shoulder at her daughter.

Alice shook her head. ‘Uncle Jimmy’s up the corner. I found him. He said he’s coming in a minute.’

That information made Tilly’s eyes and mouth narrow but she was soon swinging her attention back to her sister. Fran had dug her heels into the bed as a contraction took her huge belly arching towards the ceiling.

‘S’alright … ’s’alright,’ Tilly soothed Fran while pressing her palm to her hot forehead. She looked back at Alice. ‘Yeah … would you go ‘n’ see if Lou’s in, Al? Then get your dad back here quick as can be. When you pass the corner if Jimmy’s still there tell him he’s needed home now or I’ll come ‘n’ fetch him back meself.’

Alice had turned to go but her mother called her back.

‘Al … Al … wait a minute. Before you go, get that kettle set to boil and get some more water from the sink in that there bowl.’ She nodded her head at a tin bowl on the table that held dirty crockery.

Alice unloaded the plates and cups and quickly did as she was told. As she was about to leave for the second time her mother stopped her again with the instruction, ‘Shout up the stairs fer yer sister. Sophy’ll have to get down here with me and keep the hot water coming in case I need it soon. Beth’ll have to see to Lucy for a while.’

Alice nodded and hared up the stairs, garbled out to Sophy what her mother had told her then ran down again and out into the wintry air.

She gasped out to her cousins where she was going and made no objection when the two boys started running behind her as she went on her errand to fetch Lou Perkins.

As they passed the gamblers’ corner Alice called to the boys behind. ‘Go ‘n’ tell yer dad it’s urgent and he’s got to go home straight away or me mum’s after him.’ Stevie and Bobbie seemed for a moment as though they would do so. They hesitated; then having stopped and considered, they speeded up and caught up with Alice again. They both knew that telling their dad something like that was likely to get them a good cuff in front of everyone, then more later in private.

Alice banged on the door of number ninety-two. ‘Is Mrs Perkins at home?’ she panted out at the old man who’d opened the door. He removed the pipe clenched in his yellow teeth to croak, ‘No, she ain’t.’ He made as though to shut the door.

‘Baby’s being born down the other end. D’you know where she is?’

The old man opened the door a little wider. ‘Poor little mite,’ he grunted in his tobacco-roughened voice. ‘Might find her at the Duke or the Pooles Park.’ Having aired his sympathy, and his opinion on Lou’s whereabouts, he closed the door without any further ado.

Eventually Alice ran Lou to ground at the Pooles Park Tavern. She was merry but not drunk. Not the sort of drunk state that Alice had seen her mum in, anyhow. She came with them and puffed behind the trotting youngsters, gasping at intervals, ‘Bleedin’ ’ell, slow up; me legs ain’t as young as your’n, y’know.’

As they turned the corner Alice saw her dad pacing back and forth outside on the pavement. As soon as he glimpsed them he strode to meet them. Something in his demeanour seemed to give Lou her second wind and she speeded up. A grim head flick and a muttered, ‘First floor, second door,’ from her dad and the woman disappeared in to the sombre interior.

‘That’s what happens sometimes,’ Tilly said quietly to Sophy. She had taken her daughter into a corner of the room because Sophy had started to sob uncontrollably. The atmosphere in the confined space was heavy with the reek of sweat and blood. By the bed Lou Perkins was cleaning up Fran, who was lying quite still now, her greyish countenance turned away to the wall. Lou dipped the rag into tepid water that had long ago turned crimson and again wiped Fran’s encrusted thighs.

Tilly knew her sister was lucky to be alive. The baby girl had been breech and stillborn after struggling for almost two hours to get its tiny body free of its mother’s hips.

Sophy’s wide-eyed stare was fixed on her dead cousin. The baby girl had been wrapped in a pillowcase and placed at the foot of the bed. ‘Why’d she have to die?’ Sophy gurgled. ‘Ain’t fair.’ She swiped a hand over her runny nose.

‘Sometimes it’s more’n fair,’ Tilly contradicted her harshly. ‘Sometimes it’s a blessing. When it’s your time you should wish yourself so lucky.’

Chapter Nine (#ulink_353395e1-e94d-5f21-af90-37da16092b03)

‘Don’t want to interrupt, but ain’t it about time you took yourself off home to see yer wife?’

It was softly spoken sarcasm but had the required effect of making the couple immediately scramble apart. A moment before they’d been locked together, the woman with her back to the wall and her arms and legs encircling her partner. Jimmy Wild glanced over his shoulder, cursing under his breath. He’d recognised his brother-in-law’s voice straight away. Nellie Tucker jerked together the edges of her coat and tightly belted it over her rucked-up dress. It was late afternoon and dusk had already descended, bringing with it a clinging icy mist that had shrouded the furtive pair from prying eyes, or so they’d hoped. But Jack had spotted them … eventually.

It was over five hours since Fran had given birth to her dead daughter. Since that time Jack had been out searching for Jimmy to tell him the awful news. Having looked for him in all his usual haunts he’d been about to give up when, quite by accident, he’d finally run him to ground. Cold and hungry, and hunched into his coat, Jack had idly glanced into an alleyway he’d been passing on his way back to Campbell Road and caught a glimpse of what looked to be a courting couple bumping against the wall. After a moment or two of observation he’d realised his search for his bastard of a brother-in-law was at an end. So carried away had Jimmy been that he’d not even heard Jack call out to him the first time.

‘No need to be sarky, mate,’ Jimmy said easily. ‘Ain’t as if Fran’s never had a kid before. She knows what to do. I’d just get in the way.’ He gave a conspiratorial chuckle. ‘Last time, with Stevie, I got told ter stay outside and didn’t do nuthin’ but go up and down the stairs.’

‘So this time you thought you’d go up ‘n’ down with that old bag instead, did yer?’

‘’Ere … you …’ Nellie started to protest at the insult. She surged forward but was shoved stumbling back against brickwork by Jimmy.

‘If I was you,’ Jack told her with silky menace, ‘I’d get meself off home sharpish, just in case I copped a stray one.’

‘That don’t sound like you, Jack.’ Jimmy sneered a laugh. ‘I know you ain’t got the balls to clump a woman even when the bitch deserves it.’

‘Whereas you have, eh?’ Jack said quietly. ‘Nellie know that?’ He jerked his head at the sullen-faced tart. ‘She know how much you like using yer fists on a woman ‘n’ telling her she deserves it so you can be the big man?’

‘What you so riled up about?’ Jimmy snarled. He came closer, belligerently thrusting out his chin. ‘I don’t see what my missus droppin’ her nipper is to do with you anyhow.’

‘You don’t see nuthin’ at all, do yer, Jim?’ Jack said. ‘You’re too busy poncin’ about ter notice anything what goes on.’ He controlled his temper with difficulty as a vision of Fran’s deathly pale face crept into his mind. Then came the memory of Lou Perkins carrying a bowlful of rocking red water down the stairs to empty it in the privy in the yard. He focused his gaze back on Jimmy. ‘While you been pokin’ this old brass,’ he said bitterly, ‘your wife’s been having a real bad time … I mean real bad. She’s torn ter bits and lost a lot of blood. Your daughter’s stillborn.’

‘Stillborn?’ Jimmy looked confused then he stalked closer to Jack with a grim frown. ‘She’s killed our kid?’ He sounded peeved and disbelieving.

‘You nearly lost your wife, you fuckin’ bastard!’ Jack raged. ‘The baby was round the wrong way and if it hadn’t been for Lou Perkins knowing what to do, you’d be putting two in the ground, not one.’ Jack saw that finally he’d shocked his brother-in-law. ‘You’d best see Lou alright for what she did for you today. Woman’s been a diamond and stayed and helped Tilly clean up yer place.’

Jimmy tickled at his chin with nervous fingers and darted a look at Nellie. She seemed dazed by what she’d just heard.

‘First you’d best get home and see Fran,’ Jack prompted Jimmy. ‘She’s still in a dreadful bad state. She’s been askin’ after you. She needs some comfort and you’d bleedin’ well better give it to her.’

Jimmy pushed roughly past Jack and had managed a couple of steps before Jack, following silently, spun him around by the shoulder, and landed one on his chin. It was a short jab; just enough to make Jimmy stagger and understand that there’d be more to come.

‘Just fer starters,’ Jack promised. ‘We’ll finish it another time.’

Jimmy put a hand to his cut lip and gave Jack a vicious smile. ‘Yeah … we will finish it another time ‘n’ all, mate.’ He strode away without sending a look or word Nellie’s way.

‘I didn’t know it was her time, honest; he never said nothing to me,’ Nellie started to whine.

‘’Cos it would’ve made a difference, eh?’ Jack sneered. ‘Bet the fucker ain’t paid you neither, has he?’ He smiled with sour amusement then turned on his heel and headed for home.

‘See you this Saturday night?’ Bill Prewett called up to Tilly but continued his hop down the stairs.

‘Nah … we’re giving it a bit of rest for a while yet.’ Tilly had leaned over the banister to tell her neighbour that there would be no weekend parties going on at the Keivers’ for the foreseeable future.

‘Oh … yeah … right. See what you mean. How is Fran?’ Bill Prewett stopped and rested his weight against the rickety stairs. ‘Not seen nothing of her. Take it she’s still laid up?’

‘She’s doin’ alright, considering,’ Tilly replied whilst absently swinging the kettle she held in one hand. She’d been about to fill it from the tap on the landing. ‘Doctor’s been in a couple of times and given her some jollop for the infection. Wanted to take her into the ’ospital for a rest and so on, but she won’t have it.’

Bill Prewett nodded his head sagely then shook it. ‘You wouldn’t get me in there willing neither. No workhouse, no ’ospital. At my age you gotta avoid both of ’em like the plague ’cos you don’t never come out again ’cept in a pine box.’ He frowned up at Tilly. ‘Lucky she was, your sister … very lucky.’ With that he continued to hobble on out into the cold, damp street.

Tilly rested the kettle in the stained sink and turned on the tap. She looked about at the dilapidation, her eyes darting from one sombre locked door to another. Usually she didn’t study the depressing environment, it was just there. Now it sent a soft sigh blowing through her lips. Hurriedly she turned off the tap as the kettle overflowed. She went back into the room and put it onto the hob to boil for tea. Bobbie and Stevie were sitting at the table with Bethany. They were all looking at her expectantly. Her nephews had practically moved in with her since Fran had lost the baby several weeks ago now. Fran was still fighting infection and too weak to get up for more than a few hours a day.

When Tilly’s nephews weren’t at school they pottered about between the two households. Bobbie slept in his own room downstairs as the Keivers’ sleeping areas were already cramped. Stevie had refused to leave at night. Tilly had gruffly said he could stay if he could find himself a space. She knew the poor little blighter would sooner kip on old coats on the floor than go home and get bashed by his father for having wet the mattress again. And he’d wet himself almost every night since his mum got ill. In fact once he’d done more than that. Annoyed as Tilly had been, she’d bitten her tongue when he started to grizzle, and cleaned him up for school.