understatement and, in a square mile full of ancient, decrepit prams, this one was a clear winner.
‘Well,’ he said, brandishing an eloquent hand over the monstrosity, ‘what do you both think?’
Granny was almost speechless. ‘In the name of God, Dad, where did you get that?’
Taking her reaction as a compliment, he beamed. ‘I bought it from Jeemy’s Emporium. Got a real bargain as well. Just cost me half a crown.’
‘Half a crown?’ said Granny, spluttering so hard that tiny droplets of spittle erupted into the air.
Grandad’s smile grew wider. He obviously hadn’t picked up on the angry message that was being directed at him. ‘Well, I got it cheap because Jeemy says if he ever needs anything delivered – just wee things,’ he hastened to add, ‘well, I can deliver them when I’m out with Lily for her walks.’
Granny stood with her hands on her hips. She looked formidable. ‘Do you mean to tell me that you bought that pram from “Jumping Jeemy”?’ This was the nickname of the second-hand dealer and it came from the fact that the odd flea or four were sometimes observed jumping around the vast pile of musty clothes that lay in an untidy heap in the minuscule shop. In a hard-up, poverty-stricken community, it was a well-known fact that someone had to be almost destitute before purchasing any garment from him. His only real customers were the Lascars, seamen who regularly arrived at the docks and made a foray into the local shops. To them, one second-hand shop was much like another so they didn’t seem to be all that choosy.
Grandad, his manner now well and truly deflated by Granny’s stance, muttered, ‘Well, the baby is getting really heavy to carry, Nan, so I thought I could give her a wee hurl in the pram every day.’ His face grew stubborn looking. ‘Anyway, it’ll clean up fine after a wee wash.’ He sounded unhappy. His wonderful idea wasn’t proving such a success after all. He had obviously thought his wife and granddaughter would have been ecstatic and falling over the pram with wild cries of delight and complimentary mutterings.
I smiled. It now looked as if Grandad was also going into the delivery business, just like Danny. ‘I think it’s a lovely idea, Grandad!’ I said it more to cheer him up than anything because he looked so miserable.
It worked and his face lit up immediately. ‘There you are, Nan. Ann likes it and I was just thinking of Lily. She’ll love her wee hurls in it.’
Granny relented and moved gingerly towards the contraption as she referred to it. Still, she kept her distance. ‘It’s in not too bad a condition,’ she conceded as she circled it warily. ‘At least the wheels are not buckled but it’ll still need a damn good scrub.’
Because she wouldn’t let it into her kitchen before its decontamination, we had to work in the confines of the outside lobby. Granny brought an enamel pail filled with hot soapy water and a generous dollop of bleach. After an initial wash, she then added a large amount of San Izal disinfectant which turned the water creamy white. The acrid fumes from this concoction almost knocked the three of us out – never mind any lone lingering flea. The pram was reasonably clean which was surprising and apart from its general scruffiness it was basically sound.
Grandad was chuffed. ‘I told you – didn’t I say that it was in good nick? Jeemy didn’t keep it in the shop because there was no room so he parked it in the close beside the shop.’
‘Well, thank goodness for small mercies,’ said granny, handing me the bucket. ‘It’s a shame to waste this good hot water. Put it down the toilet and it’ll freshen it up.’
The toilet, a tiny cubicle situated like some afterthought on the communal stair, was shared by ten families. After doing what I was told, I reckoned that anyone foolhardy enough to use it within the next hour could well pass out from the fumes.
Thankfully, the pram was minus any grimy mattress
‘Well,’ he said, brandishing an eloquent hand over the monstrosity, ‘what do you both think?’
Granny was almost speechless. ‘In the name of God, Dad, where did you get that?’
Taking her reaction as a compliment, he beamed. ‘I bought it from Jeemy’s Emporium. Got a real bargain as well. Just cost me half a crown.’
‘Half a crown?’ said Granny, spluttering so hard that tiny droplets of spittle erupted into the air.
Grandad’s smile grew wider. He obviously hadn’t picked up on the angry message that was being directed at him. ‘Well, I got it cheap because Jeemy says if he ever needs anything delivered – just wee things,’ he hastened to add, ‘well, I can deliver them when I’m out with Lily for her walks.’
Granny stood with her hands on her hips. She looked formidable. ‘Do you mean to tell me that you bought that pram from “Jumping Jeemy”?’ This was the nickname of the second-hand dealer and it came from the fact that the odd flea or four were sometimes observed jumping around the vast pile of musty clothes that lay in an untidy heap in the minuscule shop. In a hard-up, poverty-stricken community, it was a well-known fact that someone had to be almost destitute before purchasing any garment from him. His only real customers were the Lascars, seamen who regularly arrived at the docks and made a foray into the local shops. To them, one second-hand shop was much like another so they didn’t seem to be all that choosy.
Grandad, his manner now well and truly deflated by Granny’s stance, muttered, ‘Well, the baby is getting really heavy to carry, Nan, so I thought I could give her a wee hurl in the pram every day.’ His face grew stubborn looking. ‘Anyway, it’ll clean up fine after a wee wash.’ He sounded unhappy. His wonderful idea wasn’t proving such a success after all. He had obviously thought his wife and granddaughter would have been ecstatic and falling over the pram with wild cries of delight and complimentary mutterings.
I smiled. It now looked as if Grandad was also going into the delivery business, just like Danny. ‘I think it’s a lovely idea, Grandad!’ I said it more to cheer him up than anything because he looked so miserable.
It worked and his face lit up immediately. ‘There you are, Nan. Ann likes it and I was just thinking of Lily. She’ll love her wee hurls in it.’
Granny relented and moved gingerly towards the contraption as she referred to it. Still, she kept her distance. ‘It’s in not too bad a condition,’ she conceded as she circled it warily. ‘At least the wheels are not buckled but it’ll still need a damn good scrub.’
Because she wouldn’t let it into her kitchen before its decontamination, we had to work in the confines of the outside lobby. Granny brought an enamel pail filled with hot soapy water and a generous dollop of bleach. After an initial wash, she then added a large amount of San Izal disinfectant which turned the water creamy white. The acrid fumes from this concoction almost knocked the three of us out – never mind any lone lingering flea. The pram was reasonably clean which was surprising and apart from its general scruffiness it was basically sound.
Grandad was chuffed. ‘I told you – didn’t I say that it was in good nick? Jeemy didn’t keep it in the shop because there was no room so he parked it in the close beside the shop.’
‘Well, thank goodness for small mercies,’ said granny, handing me the bucket. ‘It’s a shame to waste this good hot water. Put it down the toilet and it’ll freshen it up.’
The toilet, a tiny cubicle situated like some afterthought on the communal stair, was shared by ten families. After doing what I was told, I reckoned that anyone foolhardy enough to use it within the next hour could well pass out from the fumes.
Thankfully, the pram was minus any grimy mattress
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