Zillah froze. She faced Mary Ann and affected a toothless smile that was intended to project innocence.
‘Zillah, are you drunk again?’ Mary Ann asked admonishingly. ‘Have you been a-guzzling me best ale behind me back?’
‘I don’t know what you mean, Mary Ann,’ Zillah responded defiantly. ‘It was just an accident. I’m sorry.’
‘Right,’ said Mary Ann. ‘Get your hat and coat on. You’m sacked.’
‘Please missus…’ Zillah pleaded, suddenly remorseful. ‘I said I was sorry. I lost me balance. It wo’ happen again. Let me pay for what I’n had.’
‘You’ll be paying till kingdom come from what I can see of it,’ Mary Ann said. ‘No. Up the road. Get on with you, you drunken swopson.’
‘Mother, will you let me talk to Zillah?’ Clover interceded diplomatically. ‘I think I can sort this out a different way. You go and look after your guests…Please?’
‘All right, but don’t be soft with her, our Clover.’
Clover escorted Zillah into the scullery. She thought the world of Zillah, who had been like a mother to her. Zillah had soothed the cut and grazed knees of childhood, mopped her tears and held her in her fat, dimpled arms when Mary Ann was too busy. When Clover had started her monthly bleeding and believed she was terminally ill, Zillah had explained about womanhood, how babies were conceived and brought into the world. She could talk to Zillah. Just because Zillah had helped herself to a glass or two of beer was nothing afresh. It had never bothered Mary Ann before. So Clover felt justified in sparing Zillah the belittling glare of attention from her mother’s guests, which had doubtless made Mary Ann feel she should be seen to be doing something about the offence.
‘Take your coat off, Zillah,’ Clover said kindly. ‘You’re not going anywhere. Come on, there’s work to be done.’ Zillah took off her coat biddably and rolled her sleeves up, relieved that she’d been reprieved. ‘Now listen, Zillah. Can you understand why my mother is so upset about you?’
‘I reckon so.’
‘Right. Well, when you come to work in future there’ll be no drinking behind her back. We all know you do it. Mr Tandy’s here now and he won’t stand for it. But if you bring a clean bottle with you every day and give it to whoever’s serving, I’ll see as they fill it up with free beer for you ready for when you go home. I can’t be fairer than that. Agreed?’
‘Oh, God bless yer, Clover. God bless yer, my wench. I need the money from this job and I should be in dire straits if I lost it. And I’ve always loved workin’ here, yo’ know that. Not another drop’ll touch me lips again while I’m at work. May the Lord strike me down if ever it does.’
‘Good. I don’t want to see you go, Zillah. You’ve always been like a mother to me. I’ve always been able to come to you with my troubles. I’ll never forget how kind you’ve been.’
‘God bless you, Clover. But what about Mary Ann?’
‘Don’t worry about my mother, Zillah. She only wanted to put on a bit of a show in front of her guests. She’s probably a bit tipsy herself by now. I’ll straighten it all out with her and Mr Tandy tomorrow.’
On the morning of Easter Sunday, the day after the wedding, there was a gleam in Jake Tandy’s eyes as he sat at the table in the scullery and smiled fondly at Mary Ann. To Clover’s amazement, there was a corresponding gleam in Mary Ann’s eyes too, as she smiled fondly back. Mary Ann delivered a plate of bacon, eggs, fried bread, fried tomatoes and sausage to her new husband with something approaching a smile.
‘There you are, Jacob. Start the day with a good breffus, I always say.’
Jake nodded and smiled back gratefully. ‘Thank you, my flower. I could do with it. I’m clammed.’
‘Are we going to church this morning, Mother?’ Clover enquired, sitting facing Ramona who had arisen that morning as fresh as the dew.
‘We’re all going to church, our Clover,’ Mary Ann replied piously as she placed a full plate in front of Ramona. ‘It’s Eucharist today. I always go to Eucharist. Have you been confirmed, Ramona?’
‘Yes, when I was eleven, Mother,’ Ramona replied. She had already been coached by Jake to call Mary Ann ‘Mother’. ‘Me and Father always went to Top Church.’
Mary Ann placed a plate in front of Clover. ‘Our Clover, you could’ve got up yourself for this, save me stretching over the table.’
Clover thought it unfair that she’d not made the same comment to Ramona who was just as awkwardly placed. ‘Marmaduke’s on my lap. I didn’t want to disturb him.’
‘Oh, sod the cat, Clover.’ Mary Ann frowned and placed her own plate on the table, sitting down opposite Jake, with Clover on her right. ‘Well…now we’m a family we’ll have to decide who’s doing what in the pub afore we open. What do you say, Jacob?’
‘Quite right,’ Jake responded, nodding and chewing bacon rind. ‘It’s good if we all have a routine. Ramona, you can bottle up while Clover sawdusts the floor and polishes the tables. I’ll stoop any barrels and mek sure as there’s plenty oil in the lamps and coal in the scuttle. What’ll yo’ be doin’, Mary Ann?’
‘I reckon I’ll have me work cut out cooking we dinners when I get back from church, Jacob. But have no fear, I’ll come and serve while it’s a-cooking.’
‘Well at least Zillah will do the spittoons for me now,’ Clover informed them. ‘After yesterday she’ll be glad to do anything.’
‘And serve her right,’ Mary Ann remarked. ‘Still, I liked the way you handled it, our Clover. Good idea to give her a pint of beer every day. Save her pinching it and more.’
‘But I don’t think we should put on her, just because of what’s happened,’ Clover stressed. ‘She’s been a good friend to us in other ways. You know she has.’
‘And in a day or two it’ll all be forgotten, I daresay,’ Jake said.
Clover turned to Ramona. ‘I’ll show you all round the house after, Ramona, so you know where everything is. How did you find your bed, by the way?’
‘Lumpy, if you want the truth.’ She dipped a piece of fried bread into her egg yolk. ‘I didn’t sleep very well. I’m not used to a lumpy bed.’
Clover watched for her mother’s reaction.
‘Then we’ll go down the town to the Worcestershire Furnishing in Wolverhampton Street in the week and order you a new one,’ Mary Ann said with a finality that was unassailable.
Clover could hardly believe her ears. Such sudden and unbounded generosity. ‘Can I have a new bed as well?’ she asked, not wishing to be outdone.
‘What do you want a new bed for, our Clover?’ Mary Ann asked, evidently irked that her daughter might be trying to take advantage. ‘They cost money and the one you’ve got is best feather and down.’
‘But it’s all lumpy and hard, Mother. Same as Ramona’s is.’
‘Try
