A Liverpool Song by Ruth Hamilton Read Free Book Online Page A

that Joe, or Joseph as Emily insisted on calling him, often felt left out. She was now going on about the forest canopy, the lower
canopy, shrub, moss and herb layers. Aye, she was betraying her origins all right.
    Emily stopped. ‘I read all that somewhere,’ she said lamely. ‘In a magazine years ago.’
    ‘Your mother reads a lot and forgets none of it.’
    Andrew munched his way through salad and ham. The magnitutde of the task he was about to undertake took the edge off his appetite and made swallowing slightly difficult. Within minutes, it
became almost impossible.
    ‘I have taken a job,’ Emily announced suddenly.
    Joe’s cutlery clattered on his plate. ‘Oh aye. What job’s that, then?’
    ‘Assistant to the almoner at Bolton Royal. It’s mostly paperwork, but the almoner’s office makes sure that care systems are in place for vulnerable patients leaving hospital.
Just three or four days a week, I’ll be working at the start. Andrew’s old enough now to be left occasionally.’
    Joe almost growled. ‘Are you after more housekeeping? Do I not give you enough? There’s plenty more if you’re in need.’
    She maintained her dignity. ‘It isn’t about money, Joseph. It’s about involvement and being useful.’
    ‘I see.’ He picked up his implements. ‘Education should not be wasted. I’m quoting you there, Em. So we’re not enough for you, me and the boy?’
    Emily, always the lady, placed her knife and fork side by side on the plate. ‘If you have a sensible objection, it will be taken under consideration. As far as I am aware, no one can force
me not to work. There’s no law against my taking employment, but I am open to rational suggestion.’
    Andrew, seated between the two, felt like a minister without portfolio. Raised not to interrupt, he simply stayed where he was, incapable of ingesting more food. This was as near as his parents
had ever come to battle within his hearing. Too young to referee the bout, he had to sit through it in silent discomfort.
    ‘I like to be the breadwinner in my own house,’ Joe said, his face slightly flushed. ‘You don’t need a job. Anything you want, just ask and I’ll get it for
you.’
    ‘I want to work.’
    ‘So he becomes a latch-key kid?’
    ‘No. I shall work part-time only. I’ll be here when he gets in from school.’
    ‘You’ve made your mind up, then?’
    Emily inclined her head.
    Joe left the table, walked into the hall and slammed the front door after leaving the house.
    ‘Phew,’ Andrew breathed.
    ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘Storm in a teacup, dear. He’s always at his noisiest when in the wrong. Let him tell his . . . his friends about it.’
    They cleared the table and washed dishes. Together, Andrew and his mother worked like a well-oiled machine, even here in the confines of a small kitchen. It occurred to him that life without Dad
would be a great deal better than life without Mother. If his father never came back, it wouldn’t matter, because he had another—
    The front door flew inward. ‘You there, missus?’ yelled a male voice. ‘Keep your rubbish off the street, will you? We get sick of shifting trash like this.’
    Emily left her son in the kitchen. On the floor in the hall, her husband was moaning and trying to get to his feet. She bent to help him.
    ‘Leave me alone,’ snapped the heap on the floor. ‘I’ve been robbed. I’ve been beaten, too.’
    Andrew offered to go for the police.
    ‘No,’ Joe snapped. ‘He got nothing but my watch.’
    Andrew backed away. There was no doubt in his mind that the probably fast-escaping visitor was the husband of the woman in the dirty house. The letter box opened, and the missing watch landed on
the doormat. ‘There’s your watch that fell off, you cheap bastard. Even mine’s better than yon, and I’m nobbut a bin man. Like I said, I’m used to shifting muck and
rubbish.’ The flap clattered back into position.
    ‘Andrew, go and pack an overnight