Scrap CH THREE part 14

Scrap CH THREE part 14
‘I wonder where he was going with that old wreck.’ Dawn is enjoying a rare hour of peace and quiet sitting in the garden with her mother while the twins sleep in their pram beneath the shade of the only tree, a cankerous Bramley apple which miraculously still produces enough edible fruit to store each winter for use in pies and crumbles. ‘Who cares as long as it’s out of your road?’ Mavis has been chopping down the overgrown grass which has grown up around the old van and has been rewarded for her efforts with a large glass of whisky to go with her tea and a chunk of home-made fruit cake. She looks up at the branches where the green apples are forming nicely; ‘you’ll miss that when you move,’ she muses, ‘would you like me to buy you a new one as a moving in present?’ Dawn says that would be nice and they chat for a time about their plans for the new garden. Dawn had not realised there would be so much to do after moving in to a brand new house. She has been adding to the list of requirements almost daily and putting off the time when she has to show it to her husband, who plainly has not given such matters the slightest thought. With new washing poles, fittings and lines, plants, television aerial, telephone, mower that works, swing for the kids, a dozen other items, it is all mounting up and he will get a shock when he has to pay for it.
‘I saw that Casey woman at Mass on Sunday,’ says Mavis as she moves the conversation towards what is really on her mind. ‘She went up for Communion brazen as you like and I know she is on The Pill. I don’t know how she can show her face the way she carries on: everyone knows that her husband is not that poor wee baby’s father and she parades him about as if she hasn’t a care in the world. That Father O’Donnell is no better the way he swans around flirting with the young girls.’ Dawn stares in disbelief at her mother, who usually has the utmost reverence for the clergy. ‘He’s just trying to be friendly I’m sure, trying to keep up with the youth of the parish. Every year there are fewer and fewer of the young people in the pews, he’s just trying to stay in touch with them.’ Mavis drains her whisky glass and scoffs: ‘and failing dismally. If he could hear what the teenagers say about him behind his back he would be mortified. Well it wouldn’t have happened in my day. When I married your father we were expected to have as many children as the Good Lord deemed right for us. I would never have dreamed of going in for any of this family planning nonsense. It’s a mortal sin and that’s all there is to it.’
Dawn is in no mood to argue, especially as she has only recently had her tubes tied to ensure there will be no more little Stewarts running around. She would rather be a wicked sinner than go through all that again.
The babies are waking from their afternoon nap and the women take one each, propping them on their laps and chatting to the little mites. ‘It’s about time you got these two baptized isn’t it?’ Mavis is back on her other favourite topic. ‘Have you decided which one will wear Grandma’s christening robe? They can’t both have it but you can’t break the family tradition. I’ve seen a lovely one at Carol Tobin’s new shop in the High Street, I could buy it then you’d have another heirloom to hand down.’ Dawn says that would be very nice and she only wishes she could buy new matching robes for each of the twins. ‘I see their prices have gone sky high since they stopped doing the house parties,’ she grumbles, ‘they have beautiful stuff but it’s far too expensive for me. You would never believe that such small scraps of material could fetch those high prices. As usual I have to make do with second hand for my kids.’
The babies distract them and show some interest in what the women are gabbling about; George even tries to copy his mother but manages only the usual baby blah which nonetheless draws coos of encouragement from his adoring public. ‘This one needs changing,’ says Mavis, holding her charge at arm’s length, ‘a smelly one too.’ The two go indoors to change and feed the infants and find the man of the house has just woken from his slumber and used up all the hot water for his bath. The babies will have to wait for theirs as it takes at least half an hour for the immersion heater to warm the 40 gallons in the copper cylinder. ‘I suppose you’re off out again this evening to your club?’ Inquires his mother-in-law as she sets about the task of cleaning up his son. ‘I am indeed,’ Jim smiles in reply, ‘my one night a week when I’m not hard at work; you don’t begrudge me that do you?’ Dawn very much begrudges him the freedom he enjoys, believing that she works just as hard as he does and she doesn’t get a night off in a month of Sundays.
‘You should have a night off once in a while,’ says Jim, as if reading her mind, ‘why don’t you go to bingo with your mum, you’d like that wouldn’t you Mavis?’ The two women exchange stunned looks but agree they would like to do that. ‘I’m sure Janet and Heather would be happy to babysit, especially if I give them a few quid.’ Dawn’s eyes unexpectedly fill with emotion and she dabs away a tear, smiling at the same time. ‘You’re a good man Jim Stewart,’ she says, kissing him on the lips whilst carefully avoiding spilling any of the contents of the dirty nappy which she is clutching in her hand. He can be so thoughtful at times.
Naturally Scotty has an ulterior motive for his generous suggestion but he will bask in her gratitude for as long as he can. He will be home very late tonight and he can do without any earache tomorrow morning.
The younger members of the Stewart clan are rarely visible when the sun is shining, unless there is any food going, but young Stuart has been hanging around waiting to ask his father a question and nabs him just as he is attempting his escape. ‘Dad,’ he begins, in a slightly wheedling tone, ‘you know you said I could have something nice for my birthday.’ Jim has not forgotten that ‘Double’ will soon turn nine; ‘yes, I remember, have you decided what you’d like yet?’ The boy is sitting astride his bicycle, which he has already outgrown, and is fiddling with the brake levers. ‘I was hoping for a new bike,’ he blurts out, ‘please don’t tell me we can’t afford it. I’ve been doing all my chores and I’ll do anything even wash up every day if I can have a new bike. Clive up the road got a new Chopper for Christmas and he let me have a go on it. Please dad, I really need a new one, look where the saddle is on this old thing and my knees come up under my chin when I ride it.’ Scotty says he will see what he can do; having already bought the bike and stored it in Mavis’s shed. ‘You’d better keep to your side of the bargain if I do get you one,’ he warns, and his son promises the moon before setting off whooping with excitement to tell Clive all about it. Kids; Jim never had anything new when he was a boy, he didn’t get a bike until he was fourteen and that was so he could ride the eight miles to work. They get everything these days, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.