‘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.
She pushed cups of weak tea in front of the boys and Beth and cut hunks of bread to go with it. A scraping of jam on top made it a bit more of a palatable breakfast for them. ‘Hurry up and get it down yers,’ Tilly ordered briskly. ‘Time’s marchin’ on.’ She scooped Lucy up off the floor where she’d been toddling and dragging a shoe along by its laces. She plonked her in the middle of the bed and gave her a finger of bread and jam to chew on, hoping to keep her occupied while she got the kids off to school.
Soon Tilly’s thoughts were again turning to her sister. She wished Fran would go into the hospital for a while; at least she’d get a bit of decent grub and a rest. She was looking pale and scrawny and Jimmy never made life easy for her. It set Tilly’s teeth to scraping when she thought how popular and outgoing Fran once had been. As teenagers they’d gone together to dances and Fran, being blonde and pretty, had always attracted the lads. But she’d fallen for Jimmy Wild, despite a couple of his past fancies warning her he was a bully who’d steal her last farthing. Then she’d got herself in the family way and was trapped with him. He’d be different with her, Fran had boasted. He was going to get them a nice place down Highgate way and get himself a good job to pay for it. Within a very short while Fran had learned the hard way how false was his smile and how empty his promises. Then over years she’d discovered, painfully, what she’d get … or the boys would get … if ever she complained about Jimmy’s lies and womanising. Tilly knew that the sadistic git wasn’t above controlling Fran by punishing Bobbie and Stevie.
Now that Fran was laid up and bringing nothing in Jimmy had been forced to take regular work. Tilly knew he resented having to do that. One day last week he’d knocked off work early and had come stomping up the stairs looking for Fran in Tilly’s place. He’d been moaning for his dinner then, uninvited, he’d slouched into a chair at Tilly’s table,