Christmas at Tuppenny Corner Page 3

  Rosie remembered one particular time when they had been loading some crates of strawberry jam, which were heavy yet fragile, so one had to be particularly careful when handling them. Tim had strolled along the towpath towards the Wild Swan, sweeping his corn-coloured hair back as it flopped over his hazel eyes and whistling a soft tune. Rosie’s heart had given a hopeful leap, as she was sure he must be on his way to help. ‘Dad says you’re loading Robertson’s jam, so I’ve come to see if I can give you a hand,’ Tim had said, his white teeth gleaming against his deeply tanned skin.

  Rosie had started to nod eagerly, and was about to speak when Maggie cut across her. ‘Nearly done, thanks all the same,’ she had said, as she guided a large crate down on to the barge.

  Tim had shrugged. ‘Ah well, the Sally Anne’s not moving off for another hour or so, so I may as well give a hand as I’m here.’ And as he stepped aboard the Wild Swan he had winked at Rosie, who felt a blush invade her neck as she looked up into his handsome, tanned face.

  Tim’s parents and grandparents were familiar figures on the Leeds and Liverpool Canal and Rosie had known the Bradleys for as long as she could remember. They were a kind, hard-working family, and Tim was regarded as quite the catch amongst the other bargee girls whom Rosie had often seen gathered in small giggling groups, admiring him as he strolled casually along the towpath.

  One time, Maggie had watched the girls as well, scornfully making loud tutting noises as she observed them tossing their hair and waving at Tim. ‘Little tarts!’ she had sneered nastily. ‘No shame whatsoever, and where are their mothers, that’s what I’d like to know.’ She had wagged her finger at Rosie. ‘Don’t ever let me catch you fawning over a boy like that. Bloomin’ disgraceful. They’re actin’ like a bunch of alley cats if you ask me.’

  Rosie had sighed. She wouldn’t dream of fawning over any boy, let alone someone as popular as Tim. She knew that she was not attractive; what with her underdeveloped figure and short dark hair she had been mistaken for a boy on more than one occasion. She thought of herself as a plain Jane, with a nose too big for her face. Her mother, on the other hand, was a real beauty, with thick, curly raven hair, large sky-blue eyes and plump rosy lips. Rosie knew the story about the ugly duckling turning into a beautiful swan and could only hope that one day a similar miracle would happen to her. Having no memory of her father, who had died when she had been barely four years old, Rosie could not say whether she resembled him more than her mother, for even though she had seen an old wedding photograph of her parents it had been badly faded, and her father’s features were all but lost. Yet she supposed he must have been quite handsome to attract a beauty such as Maggie. Rosie sighed. She was no fool, and she knew that it didn’t matter how nice a feller Tim was, he had too many girls to choose from to end up with an ugly duckling such as she.

  Now, standing on the deck of the Wild Swan, she tucked her short hair behind her ears. She knew that Tim would not dismiss her previous night’s encounter, but she had no desire to admit to him that she had sneaked off during the middle of the night to talk to a horse! He might think her silly and too young to bother with. No, she wanted Tim to see her as an equal and not some little kid who talked to animals. He was, after all, nearly sixteen years old, and was given a lot of freedom not just because of his age, but because he was a boy, and all boys on the canals were expected to work alongside the men as equals from an early age, maturing them beyond their years. No, it seemed that her adventure from the previous night would have to go unspoken.

  A few weeks later, Rosie awoke at five minutes to six to find that another sunny day had arrived. She scrambled out of her bedding, folded everything away neatly and jumped on to the towpath to go through her usual routine of setting up the primus stove and boiling the kettle before briefly knocking on the main cabin doors and presenting Maggie and Ken with the first brew of the day.

  By the time they had drunk their tea Rosie had got their breakfast of bread, cheese and pickles plated up, and the three of them sat around the small table enjoying the late summer sunshine as they broke their fast. The decision had been made to exchange the Wild Swan for a mechanised barge, and as they ate Maggie reminded Rosie that today she and Ken were going to be starting their course in engine management. ‘We’ll need a few days to learn all the ins and outs of working a boat with an engine,’ she said, casting Rosie a fleeting smile. ‘Ken was remarkin’ the other day as to how you’re norra bad girl, allus doin’ as you’re told with never a grumble, and how you’ve made him feel right welcome aboard the Wild Swan.’ Her mother glanced at Ken and cleared her throat before continuing. ‘Ken was also sayin’ as how the Sally Anne’s havin’ some minor repairs done and is goin’ to be moored up for about the same length of time as we are, and seein’ as there ain’t goin’ to be nothin’ for you to do while me and Ken learn the engine, he thought that you and that Tim Bradley could go for a wander around the city.’

  Rosie sat, transfixed, a chunk of Red Leicester halfway to her gaping mouth. She was about to speak when her mother continued. ‘Anyway, I spoke to the Bradleys and they said that it was okay by them and Tim said as how he’d be happy to look after you. I’ll admit I weren’t too sure I wanted you on the loose in Liverpool, or any other city for that matter, but Ken reckons you’ll be fine with Tim around. So you’ve him to thank, and it’s him I’ll blame if you gerrin any trouble. Remember that and do as young Tim tells you, like you did that time he taught you to swim, and you won’t go far wrong.’ She raised her brows expectantly.

  Rosie was flabbergasted. Yesterday her mother would not have dreamed of letting her daughter stray further than the local shop unless someone accompanied her, yet today she was allowed to go into the city. Not knowing how to respond, she looked from Ken to Maggie and back again, still holding the chunk of cheese halfway to her mouth. Was Maggie actually beginning to treat her daughter the way other parents did?

  Clearly annoyed at Rosie’s lack of response, Maggie spoke sharply. ‘Of course, if you don’t want to …’ she began, but before she could renege on her suggestion, Rosie dropped the piece of cheese back on to her plate, leaned over the narrow table, and gave her mother an impulsive hug. ‘Thank you, Mam. I won’t let you down, and Tim’s ever such a nice feller. Can I go to the picture house with him? I must be the only bargee on the Leeds and Liverpool who’s never seen one of these movin’ pictures they talk of.’

  Maggie smiled, obviously pleased at her daughter’s reaction. ‘That’s more like it,’ she said. ‘And I s’pose if it’s all right by Tim then I don’t see why you shouldn’t both go and see a fillum together, and you don’t need to worry about money neither. Ken reckons you should’ve been paid a wage years back, so we’ll give you enough to get by for the day, including a trip to the picture house and wharrever else you may need. If you make some sandwiches that’ll be one meal that you won’t have to worry about spendin’ your cash on, leavin’ you free to spend it on summat else. You can make some sarnies for Tim too, as a way of thanking him for taking you about the city – although I’ll give you extra for a chip supper.’

  Rosie beamed with delight, though her smile soon faded when her mother’s voice took on a more serious tone. ‘But before you go rushin’ off, I thought you should know that I’ve had a word with Mr Pank, what owns the grazing field on Tuppenny Corner.’

  Rosie, who had been feeling on top of the world, was pretty sure that this next piece of news wasn’t going to be as welcome as the last.

  Maggie continued. ‘You must have realised that Daisy would be going, what with us getting the new boat an’ all. So I suppose it’s no real surprise, but like I was saying, I’ve spoke to Mr Pank and he said that Daisy would be a welcome addition to his stock.’

  ‘But she’s never pulled a plough, and it’s completely different from a barge, you know,’cos ploughs move off as soon as the horse starts pullin’ …’ Rosie began.

  Maggie pulled a face. ‘She’s the best, and even though she’s neve
r drawn a plough or a wagon in her life, I’ve no doubt she’ll soon get used to it.’

  ‘Did you ask Mr Pank if I could visit her whenever the barge moored close by?’ Rosie asked hopefully.

  ‘Course I did, and he said you’d be very welcome and he’d treat Daisy like his own daughter,’ Maggie said, clearly relieved that her daughter had not made a fuss.

  As her mind conjured up a picture of Daisy in a sun bonnet and little white socks, Rosie giggled briefly before straightening her face. ‘Of course I’ll miss her very much, but she’ll have the companionship of other horses, which I’m sure she’ll enjoy. Will they use the same old field, the one with the shelter in the corner? I do hope so, because it’s close enough to the canal to make a visit easy.’

  Maggie shrugged. ‘I can’t say for certain, but you won’t mind a bit of a walk if she’s on the far side of Pank’s land, I’m sure. I know he has other horses, so he’ll probably put her in with them. It’ll be good for Daisy to have company.’ She frowned thoughtfully. ‘It must be a good few years since I been up that field. I’m surprised that shelter’s still standin’.’

  A thought struck Rosie. ‘She’s not goin’ to be leavin’ today, is she?’

  Maggie shook her head. ‘She’ll be leavin’ towards the end of our stay, so don’t worry, girl, you’ve plenty of time for goodbyes as yet. Just you enjoy your day around Liverpool.’

  Rosie smiled with relief. With all the talk about Daisy she had almost forgotten the promised trip to the city. Her mother had suggested Rosie fixed a packed lunch, so she dug out some ham and tomatoes and cut thick slices of bread to make sandwiches, adding a couple of apples and then turning her attention to preparing a flask of cold tea. With everything complete, she fished out the satchel which she used on her rare trips to school and placed the packed lunch inside, nodding with satisfaction. She had been about to change out of her work clothes when Maggie called her over and pressed some silver coins into her palm.

  ‘That’s to buy your tea and anything else you might need,’ Maggie said, though she rather spoiled the effect by wagging her finger in Rosie’s face as the girl tried to give her a kiss. ‘I’m only givin’ you what you’ve earned,’ she said gruffly. ‘Ken’ll give you a bob or two an’ all so’s you can get some new clobber. He said a girl of your age needed all sorts, but you were too proud to ask. Well, from today everything will be different.’ She gave Rosie a tight little smile. ‘Like Ken said, you’re norra bad kid. I’m aware that I can be hard on you, Rosie, but you know as well as I do that it’s a tough world out there, specially for women. You can’t afford to be soft, not nowadays. I may not allus show it, but I do care for you.’

  Rosie stared. What a peculiar thing to say to your own daughter. But before she could find her tongue Maggie had left the barge, making way for Ken as he jumped on to the deck. He eyed Rosie thoughtfully; the stained dungarees, the shirt with three buttons missing, her bare feet in a pair of ancient plimsolls.

  ‘You ain’t goin’ into the city like that, are you? You gotta wear summat decent; hows about that blue dress with all the little squares … can’t remember what they’re called … that the Reverend give you for Sundays? And get young Tim to take you to Paddy’s Market, so’s you can buy yourself wharrever you young’uns wear.’ He delved into his pocket and produced a handful of loose change, and picking out four shiny half-crowns he pressed them into Rosie’s startled hand. ‘Maggie telled me young Tim was callin’ for you at ten o’clock, so you’d best get yerself changed and ready.’ He looked at her with approval. ‘You’re clean as a new whistle already; in fact you’ve always kept yerself nice, and that ain’t easy livin’ on a barge.’

  Rosie thanked him and rushed off to get changed. A few moments later she emerged on to the deck of the Wild Swan, clad as suggested in her Sunday best with her short dark hair brushed until it gleamed, and was just in time to see her friend approaching. Tim’s eyes widened with surprise and he gave a wolf whistle. ‘Well I never!’ he said. ‘You’re pretty as a picture, Miss O’Leary! I’ll be right proud to take you about.’

  Rosie laughed and eyed him shyly from top to toe.

  ‘Well, as today’s a sort of holiday I spruced myself up a bit.’

  Tim smiled approvingly. ‘I thought we could go to the cinema. Ken said you’ve never seen a moving picture, lerralone a talkie, so you’re in for a treat.’ He gave her a mock bow. ‘And I’m the feller to introduce Cinderella to her first sight of the fillum world, so ain’t I the lucky one? Are you ready? Then let’s go. Where would you like to start?’ he asked, as they left the canal and headed towards the Vauxhall Bridge, where they looked down on the barges being loaded with various cargoes.

  Rosie did not hesitate. ‘Liver Birds first, please,’ she said eagerly. ‘I’d like to climb right up to the very top and look out and see America!’

  Tim laughed. He was wearing a short-sleeved stripy shirt, long trousers and a cap tilted at a jaunty angle. ‘First disappointment coming up,’ he said. ‘The Liver Building is owned by insurance companies – don’t know which ones – and unless you’ve business there you can’t even get in the ground floor, lerralone up to the birds themselves.’ He twinkled down at her and it struck Rosie how lucky she was to have Tim as her companion. She knew that there were at least half a dozen girls longing for his attention, but today she was the fortunate one. The fact that her mother had chosen him as a suitable person to introduce her daughter to the city of Liverpool was just chance, for Maggie would not have considered looks a recommendation. As Rosie continued to stare at the older boy, she realised that he had stopped talking and was looking at her expectantly.

  Aware that she had not answered, she spoke quickly. ‘That’s a shame. I’ve often wondered what it would be like to be a great golden statue looking down on humans, scurrying round like mice … I’m afraid I’m always daydreaming; I’m sure you must’ve heard Maggie bawling me out for not paying proper attention.’

  Tim raised his brows. ‘I should think the Liver Birds themselves have heard Maggie shouting at you for one reason or another over the years.’ He placed a comforting arm around her shoulders, which sent a shiver of pleasure through Rosie’s body, and as he guided her across the bridge she hoped he had not noticed her secret delight and was relieved when he continued to talk. ‘According to my dad all the kids on the canals are daydreamers, so don’t think you’re alone. And even though we can’t go into the building, we’ll get as near to the Liver Birds as we can, then take in Paddy’s Market. Ken said something about getting you some clothes? Us fellers don’t see the appeal of all that but he said you could do with some new ones and if we saw summat suitable we were to buy it.’

  ‘Yes, he did,’ Rosie said. ‘Only I don’t know much about what such things cost and Mam’ll get cross if I make a mistake and buy summat what’s been overpriced.’

  Tim chuckled. ‘Well, I don’t think you’ll find the market clothing too costly. It’s all second-hand, you know, just like a huge jumble sale. If you wanted new clothes, you’d have to go somewhere like Blacklers. I like to go in there from time to time just to look at all the fancy stuff, but it’s way too pricey for the likes of us.’ He smiled kindly at Rosie. ‘So we’re agreed. First the Liver Birds, then Paddy’s Market, then a spot of lunch and the cinema. After we’ve seen the movie we can see how much time we’ve got left before we decide what to do next.’

  Rosie nodded happily. It seemed that today was going to be even better than she had imagined. As they reached the base of the Liver Building, she squinted up at the great golden statues, using her hand to shade her eyes from the sun. ‘They’re huge,’ she breathed. ‘How on earth did they get them up there?’

  Tim shrugged. ‘Don’t know, but I’m sure they didn’t fly up themselves.’

  Rosie nudged him with her elbow. ‘I’m not a complete idiot, you know!’ She glanced around. ‘So is the market nearby?’

  Tim nodded. ‘This way, ma’am,’ he said, offering his arm, wh
ich Rosie shyly accepted, lowering her gaze to the paving in front of them to hide her blushes.

  As they stood in one of the entrances to Paddy’s Market, Rosie’s jaw dropped. She had never seen a market of this size. There must have been a hundred tables, all covered in clothes. Tim, who had been watching her expression, laughed. ‘I’m guessing we won’t get out of here before lunch time, am I right?’

  Rosie nodded as she walked up to the first stall, which was strewn with dresses of every size and colour. She picked up the most beautiful pink gingham dress, with short puffed sleeves and a neat little bow at the back.

  A plump, cheery-looking woman approached her from behind the stall. ‘Like it, do you, queen?’ she enquired, a broad smile dimpling her large pink cheeks.

  ‘I was just looking,’ Rosie said as she quickly placed the dress back on the table, fearing that the woman might try to insist she buy it.

  ‘No law against that as far as I know, dearie,’ the stallholder said kindly. ‘You after anythin’ in particular?’

  Rosie shook her head, then nodded. ‘I’ve been told to buy a new dress, what fits me better than this’un,’ she said, running a finger round the tight neckline of her own dress. ‘Nothing too expensive mind,’ she added hastily. ‘Summat practical what you can wear for Sunday best’ll do.’

  The woman stood back and eyed Rosie critically. ‘How old are you? Thirteen? Fourteen?’

  Rosie shook her head. ‘Fifteen. I’m a bit small for my age.’ She felt the dreaded blush begin to creep up her neck and looked hastily round to see if Tim was watching, but he had wandered over to a stall a little further up and was inspecting a pair of stout lace-up boots.