A Family Affair

‘I’m not sure,’ he replied, pleased with the interest he was getting from this lovely dark-haired girl with the smiling blue eyes and beautiful nose that looked so appealing in profile. ‘It’s something I drifted into. Even as a small boy I was interested in photography.’

‘Is it fiddly?’ Ramona chipped in, not about to be excluded. ‘It looks fiddly to me.’

‘Yes, it is a bit, Miss Tandy—’

‘Oh, please call me Ramona, Mr Doubleday.’

‘Yes, er…Ramona.’ He smiled into her alluring brown eyes. ‘It’s even more fiddly in the darkroom.’

‘In the darkroom?’ Ramona’s voice had an appealing, girlish croakiness about it. ‘I don’t know if I’d like it in a darkroom. Would I be scared, do you think?’

‘Not if you’re with somebody else.’

‘Would I need to be scared with somebody like you?’ Her eyes darted knowingly from Clover to Tom and Clover thought her new stepsister was maybe trying to be just a little provocative.

‘Do you have to work in complete darkness?’ Clover interjected, seizing the opportunity to get back into the conversation before Ramona completely hijacked it.

‘Yes, otherwise you’d fog the latent image on the plate,’ Tom explained. ‘It’s light-sensitive, you see, Miss Tandy.’

‘Miss Beckitt, but you can call me Clover,’ Clover corrected with a broad smile. ‘Ramona and I are stepsisters. That’s why we have different surnames.’

‘Oh, I beg your pardon. But Clover…Mmm, what a lovely name that is.’

‘Well, thank you, Mr Doubleday.’

Tom Doubleday nodded his acknowledgement. ‘Well now – with all this informality, I’d be obliged if you’d call me Tom.’

‘All right.’ Clover smiled delectably. ‘So, to get back to my question – Tom – does all this working in darkness mean you have to go through the whole process of developing your plate without even knowing your photo’s come out all right?’

‘Not just developing, Miss…er, Clover. To make the image so it’s not sensitive to light any more, you have to thoroughly wash off any developer – after a given time – then fix it in another solution we call hypo. But listen, forgive me. The last thing I want to do is bore you.’

‘I’d like to see it done,’ Ramona said. ‘It sounds ever so interesting.’

‘Well, it’s more frustrating than anything, Ramona,’ Tom said pleasantly. ‘Especially when you enlarge or make prints. You’re never quite sure how long to expose the paper to the negative. You waste a lot getting it right, and it’s expensive stuff.’

Zillah Bache served the pudding, hot apple pie and custard, and the girls’ conversation with Tom Doubleday continued. Clover was drawn to him inexorably. He was clean-shaven and his teeth were beautiful and even. As he spoke, she watched his lips and imagined how his kisses might feel. But she would dearly have preferred it if Ramona had not been there. She felt Ramona was a rival when she wanted her as a friend. Trouble was, she did not know the girl well enough to tell her to keep her pretty nose out of it.

Meanwhile, Job Smith tapped a firkin of old ale and presented everybody with a glassful. Elijah Tandy got to his feet and set about doing his duties as best man. He made a clever speech that made everybody laugh and asked them all to drink the health of the bride and groom. Then Jake Tandy thanked them all for their good wishes and said how lucky he was to be wed to somebody like Mary Ann. Mary Ann summoned a rare smile and Clover even thought she detected a blush in her mother.

While the tables were cleared and the trestles taken away, the guests drank more old ale, stretched their legs and stumbled about from one conversation to another, noisily putting the world to rights. The women complained about their men while the men cag-magged about work, feeling obligated to denigrate their gaffers. Job Smith, meanwhile, tapped a second firkin of old ale and began doling it out. Ramona Tandy, to Clover’s surprise, played an old accordion adeptly while many sang along raucously to the tunes.

‘They reckon as all the steam engines at the pits am gunna be replaced by ’lectric motors afore long,’ said one of Mary Ann’s brothers to another above the hubbub. It was Frederick, a miner, who had just been given a fresh glassful of old ale.

‘Like the trams,’ remarked the other.

Frederick took a swig from his glass. ‘And the sooner the better as far as I’m concerned. Bloody stinking, noisy articles, steam engines. Why, you cort hear yourself think when you’m a-standing by ’em. And somebody’s gorra be shovelling coal in night and day.’

It was at this point that Zillah Bache dropped a tray of glasses and the room went eerily quiet.

‘Zillah!’ Mary Ann shouted in her most intimidating voice.

Zillah froze. She faced Mary Ann and affected a toothless smile that was intended to project innocence.

‘Zillah, are you drunk again?’ Mary Ann asked admonishingly. ‘Have you been a-guzzling me best ale behind me back?’

‘I don’t know what you mean, Mary Ann,’ Zillah responded defiantly. ‘It was just an accident. I’m sorry.’

‘Right,’ said Mary Ann. ‘Get your hat and coat on. You’m sacked.’

‘Please missus…’ Zillah pleaded, suddenly remorseful. ‘I said I was sorry. I lost me balance. It wo’ happen again. Let me pay for what I’n had.’

‘You’ll be paying till kingdom come from what I can see of it,’ Mary Ann said. ‘No. Up the road. Get on with you, you drunken swopson.’

‘Mother, will you let me talk to Zillah?’ Clover interceded diplomatically. ‘I think I can sort this out a different way. You go and look after your guests…Please?’

‘All right, but don’t be soft with her, our Clover.’

Clover escorted Zillah into the scullery. She thought the world of Zillah, who had been like a mother to her. Zillah had soothed the cut and grazed knees of childhood, mopped her tears and held her in her fat, dimpled arms when Mary Ann was too busy. When Clover had started her monthly bleeding and believed she was terminally ill, Zillah had explained about womanhood, how babies were conceived and brought into the world. She could talk to Zillah. Just because Zillah had helped herself to a glass or two of beer was nothing afresh. It had never bothered Mary Ann before. So Clover felt justified in sparing Zillah the belittling glare of attention from her mother’s guests, which had doubtless made Mary Ann feel she should be seen to be doing something about the offence.

‘Take your coat off, Zillah,’ Clover said kindly. ‘You’re not going anywhere. Come on, there’s work to be done.’ Zillah took off her coat biddably and rolled her sleeves up, relieved that she’d been reprieved. ‘Now listen, Zillah. Can you understand why my mother is so upset about you?’

‘I reckon so.’

‘Right. Well, when you come to work in future there’ll be no drinking behind her back. We all know you do it. Mr Tandy’s here now and he won’t stand for it. But if you bring a clean bottle with you every day and give it to whoever’s serving, I’ll see as they fill it up with free beer for you ready for when you go home. I can’t be fairer than that. Agreed?’

‘Oh, God bless yer, Clover. God bless yer, my wench. I need the money from this job and I should be in dire straits if I lost it. And I’ve always loved workin’ here, yo’ know that. Not another drop’ll touch me lips again while I’m at work. May the Lord strike me down if ever it does.’

‘Good. I don’t want to see you go, Zillah. You’ve always been like a mother to me. I’ve always been able to come to you with my troubles. I’ll never forget how kind you’ve been.’

‘God bless you, Clover. But what about Mary Ann?’

‘Don’t worry about my mother, Zillah. She only wanted to put on a bit of a show in front of her guests. She’s probably a bit tipsy herself by now. I’ll straighten it all out with her and Mr Tandy tomorrow.’

On the morning of Easter Sunday, the day after the wedding, there was a gleam in Jake Tandy’s eyes as he sat at the table in the scullery and smiled fondly at Mary Ann. To Clover’s amazement, there was a corresponding gleam in Mary Ann’s eyes too, as she smiled fondly back. Mary Ann delivered a plate of bacon, eggs, fried bread, fried tomatoes and sausage to her new husband with something approaching a smile.

‘There you are, Jacob. Start the day with a good breffus, I always say.’

Jake nodded and smiled back gratefully. ‘Thank you, my flower. I could do with it. I’m clammed.’

‘Are we going to church this morning, Mother?’ Clover enquired, sitting facing Ramona who had arisen that morning as fresh as the dew.

‘We’re all going to church, our Clover,’ Mary Ann replied piously as she placed a full plate in front of Ramona. ‘It’s Eucharist today. I always go to Eucharist. Have you been confirmed, Ramona?’

‘Yes, when I was eleven, Mother,’ Ramona replied. She had already been coached by Jake to call Mary Ann ‘Mother’. ‘Me and Father always went to Top Church.’

Mary Ann placed a plate in front of Clover. ‘Our Clover, you could’ve got up yourself for this, save me stretching over the table.’

Clover thought it unfair that she’d not made the same comment to Ramona who was just as awkwardly placed. ‘Marmaduke’s on my lap. I didn’t want to disturb him.’