Cathy Sharp - A Daughter’s Sorrow

‘And we all know where that little tramp gets her money. She’s a slut and a whore,’ Mam said and grunted as she flopped down in her chair by the stove, clearly out of breath. She rubbed at her chest as though it hurt. ‘She’ll come to a bad end, your sister.’

‘Lainie earns her money working for Mrs Macpherson. Why do you say those things about her?’

‘I thought she was getting married? What’s happened to that feller she was after marryin’?’

‘Hans is still away. It’s a longer voyage this time. He’ll marry her when he gets home.’

‘That remains to be seen.’ Mam rubbed at her chest. ‘So what did the doctor say then?’

‘I’ve got to take Tommy back next week.’

‘And what’s that going to cost? I’ve trouble enough making ends meet as it is without paying for doctors.’

‘Lainie said she’ll give me the money.’ Mam rubbed at her chest again. ‘What’s wrong, Mam? Have you got a pain in your chest?’

‘It’s all the worry of you and your brother,’ she muttered. ‘I’ve warned you, Bridget O’Rourke, you’ll be the death of me yet. What if your brother turns out to have the consumption? Have you thought about that? They’ll likely want to send him away – where will Lainie get the money for that? You should’ve left things as they were. Tommy will get over it—’

‘Or he’ll just get worse and die. Is that what you’re thinking, Mam?’ I noticed the fine red lines about her nose and a certain puffiness in her face. She was changing fast and it had to be the drinking that was dragging her down. ‘Well, I’m not going to let that happen without a fight. I care about him even if you don’t.’

‘You little bitch!’ She clawed up out of her chair suddenly and launched herself at me in a fury. Taken by surprise, I didn’t move fast enough and she punched me hard in the face, splitting my lip and sending me crashing back against the stove. I knocked my arm on the kettle and felt the sting of hot water as it spilled on to my hand. ‘I’ll teach you to criticize me …’

‘Stop it, Mrs O’Rourke!’ The shocked voice from the doorway halted her as she was about to launch herself at me again. ‘That is enough! Can’t you see Bridget is hurt?’

‘It was her own fault,’ Mam muttered and slumped down in her chair again. ‘Ah, but she’s a hard girl that daughter of mine, Mr Phillips. You don’t know how she talks to her poor old mother.’ Tears of self-pity were filling her eyes. ‘She’s no feelings for me at all.’

Mr Phillips shot her a look of disgust. ‘Was that water boiling, Bridget?’ he asked. ‘Let me look at it for you.’

‘It’s all right,’ I said. ‘It was just the shock. I’ll put some cold water on it.’

‘You should rub a little grease on it afterwards,’ he advised, ‘and bind it up with a bit of clean linen. And look, your lip is bleeding.’

‘Don’t worry, it will be all right,’ I said. ‘Was there something you wanted, Mr Phillips?’

‘No, no, it doesn’t matter,’ he said. ‘I was meaning to talk to Mrs O’Rourke but it will keep.’ He turned and went out of the kitchen with a glance of disgust for Mam.

She started on at me the minute she heard the front door shut behind him. ‘If he leaves we shall end up in the workhouse,’ she said and glared at me. ‘And it will be all your fault, Bridget.’

I was at the sink, plunging my hand in a bowl of cold water. The sting was beginning to go and I realized that I had been lucky – the water in the kettle had been hot but not at boiling point. I turned to look at her as I dried my hand.

‘I do my best to help you, Mam,’ I said. ‘But Tommy comes first with me. I don’t care what you do or say to me, but the minute you lay a finger on him we’ll be out of this house and you can manage for yourself.’

‘Get yourself out of my sight. Find yourself some work to do.’

‘I never stop working,’ I said as rebellion flared. ‘I’m going next door to talk to Maggie.’

‘You come back here! You’ll feel the back of me hand, girl!’

I ignored her and went out without speaking again. As I emerged into the street I saw Fred Pearce trundling by with his cart. He smiled and waved at me. I waved back, holding on to the tears that threatened to overcome me.

It was a freezing cold night and there was only just over a week to Christmas now, but it would be much the same as any other day in our house. I had been saving a few pence to buy something for Tommy, but I wanted to make it special for him. Especially if it … The emotion rose up in my throat to choke me. I leaned against the wall outside Maggie’s house, weeping.

‘What’s wrong, lass?’ I hadn’t noticed Ernie Cole approaching, but as I glanced up I saw that he was offering me a red spotted handkerchief. ‘Go on, it’s clean,’ he said, giving me an uncertain look. ‘Ma washed and ironed it this mornin’.’

‘Thank you.’ I accepted it gratefully and blew my nose, gulping hard to stop myself crying. I gave him a watery smile. ‘It’s not clean now. I’d better keep it and wash it before I give it back to you.’

‘You do whatever yer want, Bridget,’ he said. ‘Ma will ring a peal over me ’ead for losin’ it, but I’ll keep me mouth shut. Is there somethin’ I can do to ’elp yer?’

His kindness and his broad cockney accent were comforting, as was the look of concern on his face. ‘There’s nothing you can do,’ I told him. ‘Tommy might be very ill – he might have to go away for a long time.’

‘I’d ’eard somethin’,’ Ernie said and looked sympathetic. ‘You mustn’t give up, Bridget. If ’e’s lucky he might get better at one of them places what they send ’em to sometimes.’

‘If he’s lucky. With our luck they’ll stick him in the infirmary and he’ll be dead within a year.’

The expression in Ernie’s eyes told me that that was his own true opinion. He took a step towards me. I moved back as he reached out for me, a thrill of fear shooting through me as I recalled the night Harry Wright had tried to rape me.

‘Don’t you dare touch me, Ernie Cole!’

The sharpness of my voice startled him. He looked surprised and then a little offended. ‘I wouldn’t hurt you,’ he said. ‘Surely you know that, Bridget? I’d cut off my right arm before I did wrong to you.’

‘I know …’ I hesitated, wanting to tell him I was sorry I had spoken so harshly, to explain what had been in my mind, but it was too shaming. ‘I am sorry, Ernie. I didn’t mean to offend you. Please leave me alone now. I have to see Maggie …’

I turned away in a fluster of embarrassment, wondering why it had disturbed me to see that hurt look in his eyes. I wasn’t going soft on him; I didn’t have time to think of courting anyone.

Maggie welcomed me warmly into her kitchen. It was no bigger than ours, but it always smelt of good things. She looked at me and tutted as she saw the dried blood on my lip.

‘I suppose I don’t need to ask how that happened. Martha been up to her usual tricks, has she?’

‘We had an argument over Tommy. I wasn’t quick enough at getting out of the way.’

Maggie looked savage and I knew she would have liked to have a go at Mam but didn’t want to make things worse for me. ‘I’ll make a brew. Sit yourself down and tell me what’s on your mind, love.’