Scrap CH TWO part 48

CH TWO 48
There are several lorries ahead in the queue so Scotty decides to treat himself to one of Ivy’s fry-ups. The café is busy with a few of the usual crowd gathered at the counter, engaged in gossip. ‘Have you seen Rosa Casey’s little lad?’ Bob Walker is keen to gauge opinion on the latest topic of conversation, this DNA evidence everyone is talking about. ‘Yeah,’ sneers Beanpole, ‘and they reckon he’s the image of his father.’ To which all five of the men reply in unison: ‘yeah: Fat Frank.’ And proceed to have a good laugh at Danny Casey’s expense.
Scotty shoulders his way in; ‘what’s this you’re saying about my mate?’ He demands of the skinny Brett, who has just lit up a cigarette. ‘Only what everyone else is thinking,’ he replies, ‘you must have noticed the boy looks nothing like Danny.’ Scotty says they shouldn’t spread rumours especially about people who are not around to defend themselves. He orders his breakfast, takes a mug of tea and seats himself as far away as possible from the group of trouble makers. He doesn’t want to get involved in anything concerning Danny Casey and neither would this lot if they had any sense.
He hides his face and his thoughts with the Daily Mirror but he is not reading it. He has never taken much notice of babies, even his own, believing they all look very much alike, but nobody can deny that the fair haired blue eyed son of Rosa Casey bears a striking resemblance to Frank Ridley. He vaguely remembers his mother-in-law winding up Frank when she read his tea leaves, saying he would soon be a father. He tries to dismiss the notion but the old bat has been uncannily correct with many of her predictions, so maybe there is something in this after all.
It is almost midday by the time Scotty arrives home and he is desperate for sleep but both the twins are bawling, Dawn is trying to get their bottles ready and Mavis is nowhere to be seen. Scotty plucks up the boy with the reddest face, places him on his shoulder and tries to make soothing noises. ‘Thank goodness you’re back,’ says Dawn as she hands him a bottle for George, ‘it’s been murder here this morning.’ She picks up the other baby and the two of them relax as the crying instantly ceases, replaced by gulping and snuffling from the twins.
‘Mum has caught the measles, of all things, or German measles, anyway she won’t be able to help out with the kids for at least a week because she’s scared of passing it on to the twins. Both of them are teething,’ she indicates the lower front of Charlie’s mouth, ‘and they’ve kept everyone up all night. Well, everyone except Robbie and I reckon he could sleep through a hurricane. He’s gone off to school happy as Larry and the others are half asleep.’
Scotty looks round at the room which looks as if it’s been searched for contraband with items strewn all about the place. The fire has not been cleared from last night and the sink is hidden by washing up awaiting attention. Reluctantly he feels he must lend a hand; ‘This one’s finished,’ he says, placing the empty bottle on the only free space on the table, ‘I’ll see to him and put him down for a nap then I’ll get on with clearing this lot while you get a rest.’ Dawn looks up at him with tears in her dark-circled eyes and can’t find the words to thank him. She quickly settles her charge then after both are asleep in their cots she falls onto the bed, kicks off her slippers and pulls the covers up over her face. Within seconds she is sleeping and Scotty surprises himself in feeling wide awake. He spends the next two hours cleaning up then after a quick wash he creeps into bed beside his exhausted wife and slips into unconsciousness.
Heather and Janet for once go straight home from school, too tired to linger with friends. The house is quiet and they creep upstairs to find their parents both snoring and the twins starting to wake. They each take one and leave the room, closing the door behind them. The boys are wide awake by the time they reach the bottom of the stairs and the girls change them, put them in the pram and position them where they can keep an eye on them. Together they find potatoes, vegetables and sausages which they presume are for dinner and set about preparing the meal. The other boys are helping immensely by keeping out of the way.
Robbie is looking out from his bedroom window when he sees a van pull up outside. He manages to get the front door open before the delivery man can ring the bell and to stifle a whoop of delight as the man says he is here to install the new television. Heather arrives on the scene and explains that their parents are having an afternoon nap, which causes the man to blush brightly. ‘No, they really are having a nap,’ insists Heather, ‘the babies kept everyone awake last night and they’re trying to catch up.’
Everyone crowds into the living room to watch as the new 26inch colour television is positioned in the corner of the room, the old one moved to a spot in the kitchen. ‘This is the remote controller,’ explains the man, ‘you plug it in here and you can change channels without getting out of your seat. What do you think of that then?’ He asks proudly as he demonstrates. Everyone is suitably impressed and eager to see what programme is on. ‘There aren’t too many in colour yet,’ explains the man, ‘but I think Coronation Street is and so is Top of the Pops, but that’s not on tonight. Now, I should really get your mum or dad to sign for the delivery but in view of the circumstances I think it will be okay if you put your name to it.’ He passes the delivery note to Janet, who forges her mother’s signature; he hands over the top copy and places the other in his pocket. ‘If anything goes wrong with it, just call in at the shop or give us a ring,’ he says before wishing them happy viewing and moving on to his next delivery.
Reluctantly, the girls tear themselves away and finish making the dinner. Unusually they have to call twice for the boys to join them at the kitchen table where they gulp down their meals eager to get back to the new box and leaving their sisters to clear away after them.