The Carpenter's Children Read Online Free

he eventually got home he forestalled his wife’s righteous indignation.
    ‘Just let’s be thankful we’re not in that tragic case, Vi. If I was Eddie I don’t know how I’d cope. The poor devil blames himself.’
    ‘Blames
himself
? Why on earth should he think that?’ asked Mrs Munday, none too pleased by the suggestion that Tom could be Eddie, which was like comparing herself with Eddie’s wife.
    ‘Yes, he blames himself, though it was more the fault o’ that fool of a doctor when she had Mary,’ said Tom, deeply saddened by what Eddie had toldhim. ‘You remember how she had a very bad time, and was in bed for weeks afterwards, couldn’t feed the baby and her mother had to come over to look after them – it was a rotten time, after looking forward to the baby.’
    ‘Yes, I remember, but she got over it, didn’t she? She’s not the only woman to have a bad time birthing, and at least she didn’t lose her life, like that poor girl over at Hassett last year,’ replied Violet. ‘And when I had Ernest, you may recall that—’
    ‘But you got over it, an’ had two more children, an’ she couldn’t have any more, that’s why there’s only Mary. Eddie says she went into a melancholy state, couldn’t do anything at all, so Eddie called that doctor back to her. He advised her to take a glass of brandy each night, to make her sleep and cheer her up. So Eddie did what he said, an’ it got to be a habit. She couldn’t break out of it, no matter how hard she tried. He says she does her best to keep it under control, but sometimes it gets the better of her, an’ she takes to the bottle again. Sleeps it off indoors, mostly, but today was bad.’ Tom shook his head and repeated, ‘Yeah, today was pretty bad.’
    ‘Well, you’ve certainly done everything a friend and neighbour could do,’ said Mrs Munday.
    ‘Yeah – but he could’ve done with a bit o’ help from a woman, Vi. It was pretty embarrassing, to saythe least, ’cause
I
couldn’t very well help him clean the poor woman up.’
    There was a short silence, then Mrs Munday said in a somewhat subdued tone, ‘Well, if ever Mary needs somewhere to go, I’d be willing to have her round here.’
    ‘That’s good o’ you, Vi,’ he replied gravely. ‘None of us know when we might be in need of a friend – and that woman needs a friend now, if anybody does.’
    Violet did not attempt to answer, feeling herself rebuked.

    Up in the bedroom shared by the girls, Isabel was becoming irritated by Grace’s persistent questions about the strange and very rude lady in their garden. Why was she trying to get into Daddy’s shed? And why did she wee in the cabbage patch? And why was Mummy so angry about her?
    ‘Oh, go to sleep, Grace, I’m tired,’ snapped Isabel. Their mother had told them not to talk about what had happened, and to forget all about it. Yet Isabel sensed that she would never forget the sight of Mary Cooper’s mother who, Isabel now realised, had been drunk – which was something that only happened with men, or so Isabel had thought until now. Something of her mother’s shock and disgust had been passed on to her, and she knew that she would be hauntedby Mary’s mother, like a grotesque picture in her memory that would never quite go away. And what she would remember above all was the lost, bewildered look in the woman’s eyes.

    On returning from school Ernest at once realised that something bad had happened, something that the girls had been ordered not to talk about. If he knew his little sister Grace, she would find an opportunity to whisper it to him sooner or later, whether he wanted to know it or not. There were many other matters on Ernest’s mind, and lying in his bed that night he recalled the unthinking cruelty of his classmates, and how he was learning to endure their sometimes obscene taunts by keeping quiet; he was getting better at meeting ridicule with a bland silence that hid his inward distaste.
    But not on