she was getting behind with the rent. She’d been for several interviews for jobs but for one reason or another never took or was offered one. You’d gone off to school and she was just leaving to continue with her job search when the back door opened and in he walked, bold as brass, plonked his bag on the floor and announced to her he was back. Arnold didn’t even say he was sorry for leaving her high and dry. Didn’t offer any explanation for where he’d been in the meantime or what he’d been doing, just expected to carry on like he’d never been away.
‘When Jessie came to tell me and yer granddad of his return, I asked her what she was playing at, just letting him back in after all these years with not even a word from him. She said, “Mam, I’m in arrears with the rent, can’t seem to get a job for love nor money – his return is like a Godsend to me. Don’t matter whether I want him back or not, I’ve no choice but to have him back, ’cos you’ve no room to take me and my daughter in, and having him back is better than the workhouse or walking the streets.”
‘Whenever me and yer granddad dropped in Arnold was civil to us, and from what we saw he seemed to be being a decent husband to Jessie and a father to you. Whenever I asked her how life was, she’d just say, “Fine, Mam,” and change the subject. Within a matter of months of him coming back she fell pregnant with George. Then Betty came along just over a year later, and only four months after giving birth to her, she fell for Marion. She was about seven months gone when, out of the blue, Arnold disappeared one night, again without any warning, and we’ve never seen nor heard anything of him since. That was when Jessie opened up to us and told us that not long after he’d returned he was back to all his old ways, but by then she was pregnant. Turned out he gave her Betty and Marion too before he finally abandoned her.’
Bertha’s eyes narrowed darkly and she hissed, ‘How the hell any man could abandon his pregnant wife and kids, not just once but twice, and think it right to do so … Well, I hope he’s gone to hell and rots there!
‘Yer granddad had retired by then and we were struggling to make ends meet on just the bit I made from me potions ourselves, so we couldn’t help Jessie moneywise. Thank God you were earning by then, and what you handed over helped enormously even though you were only training in your job. Along with the pittance she made from taking in washing and ironing and another lodger, Jessie just about scraped though, but there was nothing left over for any luxuries. If it hadn’t been for the neighbours passing her hand-me-downs from their own kids, I dread to think how she’d have dressed you all.’ Bertha’s face puckered, the glint of tears in her aged eyes, and she uttered, ‘Oh, Aidy, if only me and yer granddad had been able to help Jessie more maybe she wouldn’t have put such a strain on her heart with all that hard work. Maybe she’d still be with us now.’
Aidy reminded her, ‘But you did help her, Gran. You and Granddad both. Granddad used to come around each morning at six and light the fire under the copper while me and Mam got the kids up and dressed before I had to rush off to work and she saw to the lodger’s breakfast. Then, when Granddad went off down the allotment that kept us all in veg, you would arrive and help Mam with what washing and ironing she had to do that day. And I know you wouldn’t take any payment ’cos Mam told me you wouldn’t, even though you could have put good use to a few coppers extra. And I know you used to share your potion money with Mam when you were able to because she told me you did.’ A worried expression clouded Aidy’s face then. ‘Maybe she’d still be alive if I hadn’t got married and left home, Gran.’
Bertha sighed heavily. ‘We could sit here all night worrying that something we didn’t do for her contributed to her death. Anyway, I told you, if anyone’s to blame it’s Arnold