out for more beer until Granny Beaton chased the guests away, muttering that the Sabbath would soon be upon them. Mabel and Mary, who were singing ‘The Blaydon Races’ for the sixth time, had to be prised apart and Mary was helped downstairs by her son Tommy, while an inebriated Uncle Barny leaned on Tich and Susan for support.
‘It’s me leg,’ he chortled, ‘can’t make it do what I want.’
‘It’s the booze, more like,’ Violet answered huffily, stalking off ahead.
Maggie caught Richard whispering something to Helen on his way out, which brought a coquettish look to her sister’s face.
‘Grand evening!’ Mary Smith shouted up from below and then the downstairs door banged shut behind her.
‘Have I told you ‘bout the siege of Lichtenburg, Jimmy?’ Barny slurred at his nephew.
‘Aye, once or twice, Uncle Barny,’ Jimmy grinned and rolled his eyes heavenwards at Susan.
‘I lost me leg, you know—’
‘Our Tich’ll see you up the road,’ Susan interrupted as they reached the bottom of the stairs.
‘No need, young man,’ Richard appeared at Barny’s side, ‘I can manage him.’ He smiled at Susan. ‘It’s been a wonderful evening and I have enjoyed meeting you, Susan. Aunt Violet told me you were the special one and I see what she means,’ he winked at her.
Susan flushed with pleasure and surprise, for she had been disappointed by the amount of attention he had paid to Helen.
‘It’s been canny meeting you too,’ she said shyly, her hand going to her neck in a nervous gesture.
He moved closer and dropped his voice. ‘I hope I may call on you sometime.’
‘Of c-course,’ Susan stuttered and beamed with delight.
‘Right then, Uncle Barny,’ he said loudly, relieving Jimmy of the portly older man’s weight. Barny began to sing again as he was steered into the dark damp street.
‘I’ll get you into the matinee next Saturday, Jimmy, my boy,’ Richard promised.
‘Ta very much,’ Tich replied enthusiastically. ‘That would be champion.’
Susan and her brother watched them go, Aunt Violet stalking ahead with Barny’s fiddle while the men weaved their way behind.
‘He’s canny, isn’t he?’ Tich glanced at his sister.
‘I think so,’ Susan answered coyly.
‘It was disgusting the way Helen was flitting with him all evening, mind,’ Jimmy complained as they retreated inside.
Susan agreed but said nothing. After all, it was she and not the brazen Helen that Richard had asked to see again. She was seized by the sudden exciting thought, as they ascended to the flat, that Richard could be their means of escape from Gun Street. She would marry Richard and being an important man he would buy a house big enough for them all to live in. It would be a house with a proper parlour, only used for entertaining, Susan daydreamed, and there would be railings and a gate in front and a door with gleaming brasses. Her mother would no longer have to slog around Newcastle selling clothes and Helen could be indulged with new dresses. Granny Beaton could spend her final days sitting in front of a roaring fire that never went out and Tich would find a good position, working indoors instead of hawking firewood around the neighbourhood. And Maggie...
Susan’s imagination failed her when she thought of her other sister. Try as she might, she could not see Richard living happily with Maggie under his roof, a constant critic of all he said and did. No, Maggie would be much happier setting up house with Rose Johnstone or one of her other strident friends. She could visit them for Sunday tea or whenever she wanted, but it would be a far more harmonious household if Maggie was absent, Susan mused, then felt a pang of guilt for the disloyal thought.
***
The next morning Maggie had just finished dressing her grandmother in the room that passed for parlour and the old woman’s bedroom when she heard banging on the front door. Her mother and Helen were still lying in bed and Tich was out
‘It’s me leg,’ he chortled, ‘can’t make it do what I want.’
‘It’s the booze, more like,’ Violet answered huffily, stalking off ahead.
Maggie caught Richard whispering something to Helen on his way out, which brought a coquettish look to her sister’s face.
‘Grand evening!’ Mary Smith shouted up from below and then the downstairs door banged shut behind her.
‘Have I told you ‘bout the siege of Lichtenburg, Jimmy?’ Barny slurred at his nephew.
‘Aye, once or twice, Uncle Barny,’ Jimmy grinned and rolled his eyes heavenwards at Susan.
‘I lost me leg, you know—’
‘Our Tich’ll see you up the road,’ Susan interrupted as they reached the bottom of the stairs.
‘No need, young man,’ Richard appeared at Barny’s side, ‘I can manage him.’ He smiled at Susan. ‘It’s been a wonderful evening and I have enjoyed meeting you, Susan. Aunt Violet told me you were the special one and I see what she means,’ he winked at her.
Susan flushed with pleasure and surprise, for she had been disappointed by the amount of attention he had paid to Helen.
‘It’s been canny meeting you too,’ she said shyly, her hand going to her neck in a nervous gesture.
He moved closer and dropped his voice. ‘I hope I may call on you sometime.’
‘Of c-course,’ Susan stuttered and beamed with delight.
‘Right then, Uncle Barny,’ he said loudly, relieving Jimmy of the portly older man’s weight. Barny began to sing again as he was steered into the dark damp street.
‘I’ll get you into the matinee next Saturday, Jimmy, my boy,’ Richard promised.
‘Ta very much,’ Tich replied enthusiastically. ‘That would be champion.’
Susan and her brother watched them go, Aunt Violet stalking ahead with Barny’s fiddle while the men weaved their way behind.
‘He’s canny, isn’t he?’ Tich glanced at his sister.
‘I think so,’ Susan answered coyly.
‘It was disgusting the way Helen was flitting with him all evening, mind,’ Jimmy complained as they retreated inside.
Susan agreed but said nothing. After all, it was she and not the brazen Helen that Richard had asked to see again. She was seized by the sudden exciting thought, as they ascended to the flat, that Richard could be their means of escape from Gun Street. She would marry Richard and being an important man he would buy a house big enough for them all to live in. It would be a house with a proper parlour, only used for entertaining, Susan daydreamed, and there would be railings and a gate in front and a door with gleaming brasses. Her mother would no longer have to slog around Newcastle selling clothes and Helen could be indulged with new dresses. Granny Beaton could spend her final days sitting in front of a roaring fire that never went out and Tich would find a good position, working indoors instead of hawking firewood around the neighbourhood. And Maggie...
Susan’s imagination failed her when she thought of her other sister. Try as she might, she could not see Richard living happily with Maggie under his roof, a constant critic of all he said and did. No, Maggie would be much happier setting up house with Rose Johnstone or one of her other strident friends. She could visit them for Sunday tea or whenever she wanted, but it would be a far more harmonious household if Maggie was absent, Susan mused, then felt a pang of guilt for the disloyal thought.
***
The next morning Maggie had just finished dressing her grandmother in the room that passed for parlour and the old woman’s bedroom when she heard banging on the front door. Her mother and Helen were still lying in bed and Tich was out
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