danger of splitting in two. ‘Tell you what, if I pushes the pram, can I stick me bag on it? It ain’t that it’s heavy – well, it is, but I don’t care for that – I’m afraid it’s goin’ to split with the weight and send me messages topplin’ into the road.’
Kathy would have unhesitatingly refused but Jane said at once that it would be fine. ‘Kathy and me’s managed so far, but it’s awkward crossin’ the road when there’s two of you pushin’ the pram and it’s already awfully heavy,’ she said. ‘Are you sure you can manage it though, Jimmy? It’s goin’ up an’ down kerbs and crossin’ the tramlines which is so difficult. Tell you what, why don’t you push for a bit and then Kathy an’ me’ll take over?’
Jimmy said that that would not be necessary and pushed in grim silence for all of five minutes. Kathy was thinking, with some satisfaction, that the pram with its many burdens was obviously a good deal heavier than Jimmy had suspected and that he had no breath to spare for idle chat, when he slowed the steady pace he had been keeping up and turned towards her. ‘I were real sorry to hear about young Billy’s accident and your dad’s death,’ he said gruffly. ‘I’ve not seen you since, except in the distance, like, so I’ve not had a chance to – to tell you how I felt. Your dad were real kind to me. When my dad got an allotment, none of us McCabes knew how to set about growin’ stuff but your dad took me to one side an’ gave me a heap o’ help and advice. I don’t suppose I’ll ever be able to grow things like he could, but I’m goin’ to have a bleedin’ good try.’
Kathy muttered that it was good of him to say so and felt the tears rush to her eyes. In all the unhappiness of the past few months she had completely forgotten her father’s allotment. Now she was wondering whether it was still theirs, whether she and her mother ought to catch the tram and go there. When she was small, she had visited the place almost weekly, digging her own little plot and planting radishes, Mrs Sinkins pinks and even a tomato plant, which she had watched over anxiously for many weeks, enjoying the resultant fruits far more than usual because they came from her very own plant. She remembered Dad had got raspberry canes, two gooseberry bushes and a fine blackcurrant, and realised that she and her mother had never given a thought to that neat square of garden out in Seaforth, which her father had tended so assiduously. There would be things that needed doing, even though it was winter. She imagined that the winter cabbage and sprouts which her father had planted would have been harvested by someone else; she could not imagine anyone stealing the prickly gooseberry bushes and she knew the raspberry canes would have died down long since, but the blackcurrant must be a temptation for it was well established and, in the summer, provided an enormous quantity of fruit. Without pausing to consider how it would sound, she turned to Jimmy. ‘I expect all the cabbages and sprouts have gone because we’d forgotten all about the place, but are the fruit bushes still there? And how about me dad’s little shed where he kept his tools? There were a padlock on the door but I dare say that’s been forced and all his lovely tools carried off by someone who fancied them.’
She was watching Jimmy’s face as she spoke and saw his lips tighten and his eyes flash. ‘They’re a decent set of fellows up at the allotments,’ he said. ‘None of ’em would touch so much as a sprout what didn’t belong to ’em, an’ there’s others, beside meself, what have cause to be grateful to your dad. I think you’ll find the place just as he left it, ’cept I’ve turned the earth over for him because I know – he told me – that that’s the right thing to do once the main crop of veggies are all dug up. But though I’ve been workin’ his allotment, I dunnit with me own tools and I didn’t take
Kathy would have unhesitatingly refused but Jane said at once that it would be fine. ‘Kathy and me’s managed so far, but it’s awkward crossin’ the road when there’s two of you pushin’ the pram and it’s already awfully heavy,’ she said. ‘Are you sure you can manage it though, Jimmy? It’s goin’ up an’ down kerbs and crossin’ the tramlines which is so difficult. Tell you what, why don’t you push for a bit and then Kathy an’ me’ll take over?’
Jimmy said that that would not be necessary and pushed in grim silence for all of five minutes. Kathy was thinking, with some satisfaction, that the pram with its many burdens was obviously a good deal heavier than Jimmy had suspected and that he had no breath to spare for idle chat, when he slowed the steady pace he had been keeping up and turned towards her. ‘I were real sorry to hear about young Billy’s accident and your dad’s death,’ he said gruffly. ‘I’ve not seen you since, except in the distance, like, so I’ve not had a chance to – to tell you how I felt. Your dad were real kind to me. When my dad got an allotment, none of us McCabes knew how to set about growin’ stuff but your dad took me to one side an’ gave me a heap o’ help and advice. I don’t suppose I’ll ever be able to grow things like he could, but I’m goin’ to have a bleedin’ good try.’
Kathy muttered that it was good of him to say so and felt the tears rush to her eyes. In all the unhappiness of the past few months she had completely forgotten her father’s allotment. Now she was wondering whether it was still theirs, whether she and her mother ought to catch the tram and go there. When she was small, she had visited the place almost weekly, digging her own little plot and planting radishes, Mrs Sinkins pinks and even a tomato plant, which she had watched over anxiously for many weeks, enjoying the resultant fruits far more than usual because they came from her very own plant. She remembered Dad had got raspberry canes, two gooseberry bushes and a fine blackcurrant, and realised that she and her mother had never given a thought to that neat square of garden out in Seaforth, which her father had tended so assiduously. There would be things that needed doing, even though it was winter. She imagined that the winter cabbage and sprouts which her father had planted would have been harvested by someone else; she could not imagine anyone stealing the prickly gooseberry bushes and she knew the raspberry canes would have died down long since, but the blackcurrant must be a temptation for it was well established and, in the summer, provided an enormous quantity of fruit. Without pausing to consider how it would sound, she turned to Jimmy. ‘I expect all the cabbages and sprouts have gone because we’d forgotten all about the place, but are the fruit bushes still there? And how about me dad’s little shed where he kept his tools? There were a padlock on the door but I dare say that’s been forced and all his lovely tools carried off by someone who fancied them.’
She was watching Jimmy’s face as she spoke and saw his lips tighten and his eyes flash. ‘They’re a decent set of fellows up at the allotments,’ he said. ‘None of ’em would touch so much as a sprout what didn’t belong to ’em, an’ there’s others, beside meself, what have cause to be grateful to your dad. I think you’ll find the place just as he left it, ’cept I’ve turned the earth over for him because I know – he told me – that that’s the right thing to do once the main crop of veggies are all dug up. But though I’ve been workin’ his allotment, I dunnit with me own tools and I didn’t take
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