sure they’re made of silver.’
‘Really? Are you sure?’
Mavis couldn’t decipher the symbols, but knew what they were called. ‘Yes, look, you can just about see the hallmarks.’
‘Oh, dear, in that case I’m afraid I can’t give them to you. They’re saleable, but surely I can find something for the Salvation Army. Let’s have a look in the kitchen.’
Once again Mavis followed the old woman, but found the kitchen as austere as the living room. Oh, this was dreadful, she thought. The poor woman must be penniless to live like this. Cupboards were opened, most almost empty, including the pantry. Once again Mavis was swamped with guilt. She had lied to the woman and now all she wanted was to get away. ‘It’s all right. It doesn’t matter. I’ve collected loads of stuff already and I really must go now.’
‘But it’s such a worthy cause and I’d like to help,’ the woman insisted, pulling something from a bottom cupboard. ‘What about this?’
Mavis carefully took the china biscuit barrel, its metal lid black with dirt. ‘Thank you. This is fine and more than enough,’ she said. Before the old lady could protest, Mavis fled the kitchen, ran down the hall, pulling the front door closed behind her before almost skidding down the few stairs and onto the pavement.
Full pram or not, Mavis just wanted to go home. She had looked with envy at the large houses, imagined the luxurious interiors, but seeing inside one was a revelation. That poor old woman had nothing, yet was still prepared to donate something to charity.
Mavis put the biscuit barrel in the pram. And then, deciding to risk her mother’s wrath that the pram wasn’t full, she started the long walk home. Oh, if only she didn’t have to do this. If only she could find a job when she left school, but, as her mother always pointed out, nobody in their right mind would employ her. Downcast, she trudged along, worn out and hungry by the time she reached Cullen Street.
Lily was feeling warm and mellow. After making love they had come downstairs again and now Ron was sitting by the fire, his feet on the surround, talking so enthusiastically about his plans that Lily was beginning to feel that he really could make it this time.
The back door opened and Mavis walked in, smiling with delight when she saw her father. ‘Hello, Dad.’
‘How’s my girl?’
‘So, you’re back,’ Lily interrupted. ‘Let’s see how you got on.’
‘The pram isn’t full.’
‘I told you not to come home until it was.’
‘Lily, leave it out,’ Ron protested. ‘You shouldn’t send her out tramping the streets; she looks frozen.’
Lily’s good mood vanished. How dare Ron criticise her? Hands on hips, she spat, ‘The fact that Mavis has to go out scrounging is down to you, Ron, not me. You blow your money every week, leaving me to somehow find the rent, let alone food. I have to send Mavis out. If I didn’t, we’d bloody well starve.’
‘I know, and I’m sorry, love,’ Ron said ruefully. ‘I know you do your best, but things really are going to change.’
‘Huh. I’ll believe it when I see it.’ And with that Lily marched out to the yard. She rummaged through the pram, relieved to see that Mavis hadn’t broken anything, and saw a few things that would show a bit of profit. She could have done with more. It was just as well she had other plans now, but then, seeing what looked like a half-decent biscuit barrel, Lily felt a surge of pleasure, her bad mood lifting as she gave it a closer inspection. The rest of the stuff could wait until later, and Lily threw a cover over the pram in case of rain.
Mavis was sitting by the fire when Lily went back inside, smiling happily to be with her father. ‘You did all right, and this is a really good find,’ Lily said, holding up the biscuit barrel. ‘If I’m not mistaken, it could be antique and the lid’s silver.’
‘Oh, no! I’ll have to take it back.’
‘Take it back! Are you mad?’
‘But, Mum, the old lady who gave it to me lives in this big house, but she’s really poor. I only took it because I didn’t think it was worth anything.’
‘I can’t believe I’m hearing this. If it hasn’t escaped your notice, you daft cow, we’re poor too.’
‘But she didn’t even have a fire going and there was hardly any food in her pantry.’
‘Oh, and I’ve got a lot in mine, have I?’ Lily said sarcastically. ‘We’re so well off that all we’ve got for dinner is a bit of bubble and squeak.’
‘Things are gonna get better, love, you know that,’ Ron cajoled.
‘Yeah, so you say.’
‘Lily, I promise, you’ll get five pounds a week without fail.’
‘Five quid! From what you said, you’ll be earning nearly three times that.’
‘Does that mean I can return the biscuit barrel?’ Mavis asked eagerly.
‘No, you bloody well can’t! What your dad’s talking about may never happen. In the meantime, if we want to eat tomorrow, I’ll need to sell this, and fast. In fact, you can have a go at cleaning it up while I’m cooking dinner.’ Lily kept her expression stern and thankfully there were no further protests from Mavis. ‘I know what a clumsy cow you are, so just polish the lid. Use a soft cloth. I don’t want to see any scratches.’
While Mavis did her bidding, Lily started on their dinner, unable to help doing a mental calculation as she worked. If she really did get five quid a week from Ron, for the first time in years he’d be giving her decent money. She flicked a glance at her husband, saw that he had dozed off, and her expression hardened. What was the matter with her? Of course it wouldn’t happen. She couldn’t rely on Ron. As always, he’d let her down again. Still, she had the biscuit barrel and it would fetch a fair few bob, and with Mavis earning more from cleaning when she left school, things were starting to look up.
Mavis couldn’t stop her mouth from salivating. She’d eaten her bread and dripping at midday and now the smell of her mother’s cooking made her stomach growl with hunger. Oh, no, she’d forgotten to get jellied eels for Granny Doris! Tomorrow, she’d get them tomorrow. Her gran was sure to understand.
Gingerly Mavis picked up the ceramic biscuit barrel, and under the grime she could just about see a circle of black ponies, along with a pretty blue border top and bottom. She took off the lid, polishing it carefully, pleased to see how it began to gleam. While she worked, Mavis was unable to stop stealing glances at her father. As she’d hoped, he was home, and if he didn’t go out again that evening it would be wonderful.
Ten minutes later, when Mavis thought the lid was shiny enough to please her mother, she said, ‘Look, Mum, what do you think?’
‘Yeah, very nice,’ Lily said, her eyes squinting to see the hallmark. ‘I don’t know much about date letters, but I think it’s early.’ She then put the lid down to pick up the barrel and, upending it, she pointed out the maker’s mark on the bottom. ‘Look at that, it’s Royal Doulton. Well done, girl, it’s as I thought. This is worth a good few bob.’
It
