The River Folk by Margaret Dickinson Read Free Book Online Page B

then.’
    Bessie chuckled, then her face sobered. ‘Aye, but I don’t want poor Amy being one of them.’
    ‘All right, Bess,’ Minnie said again and trotted off to do as her friend bade her.
    The sight of their neighbour stripped naked tore at the hearts of the two women and pricked their consciences.
    ‘Ya nowt but skin and bone, Amy lass,’ Bessie whispered as she gently soaped the woman’s hair and Minnie tipped a jug of water over it to rinse the suds away. ‘Whatever have you been doing to let yasen get in such a state?’
    Amy said nothing but submitted meekly to their ministrations, her arms wrapped around her knees drawn up to her chin. Her crying had stopped and, just once, Bessie thought she saw the ghost of a smile on Amy’s mouth as Bessie’s motherly hands washed her. She sat staring into the glowing coals in the fire, a faraway look in her eyes. Then the smile faded and tears welled once more.
    ‘They had to sleep in the trenches, you know. Just where they were. In the cold and the wet and the mud. And rats, as big as cats, would snuggle up under their armpits at night.’
    Bessie shuddered inwardly and glanced at Minnie. She had turned white. Stoically, Minnie said nothing but bent her head, continuing to soap Amy’s feet.
    They let Amy talk, hoping that unburdening her terrible memories might help her. ‘And sometimes, they hadn’t proper food. Just bully beef and biscuits were all they had. Just think, Bessie . . .’ Amy gave a sob. ‘My boy – my baby – dying out there in all that. He was crying for me – I know he was crying for me. And I wasn’t there to look after him, to keep him warm and safe. I wasn’t there, Bessie. I wasn’t there.’
    ‘Stand up, love,’ Bessie ordered gently, but found that together they had to lift Amy bodily to stand up and step out of the tin bath. Then Bessie wrapped a thick, warm towel around her. For a moment she put her arms about Amy and held her close, trying to transmit some of her own strength into the frail, grieving woman. ‘There, there. You sit by the fire here. That’s it. Now, did you eat some porridge?’ When Amy did not answer, Bessie turned to Minnie. ‘Did she?’
    ‘Only a couple of spoonfuls.’
    Bessie nodded and bent towards Amy. ‘Now come on, lass. Let’s get you into these clothes Min’s brought across for you. Then you can sit here for the day and have a bit of dinner with us. It’ll only be cold meat and pickle, ’cos me and Min’s going to give your place a good going over.’
    ‘Oh Bess, I don’t know about that,’ Minnie began. ‘My ol’ man’ll be home for his dinner and—’
    ‘Your Stan won’t mind. He’s got the kindest heart I know in a man.’ She grinned broadly, ‘’Cepting for my Bert, of course.’
    Minnie smiled back. ‘Oh, of course, Bess.’
    The smiles faded on the faces of both women when they looked back again to their friend.
    ‘We’ve got to help her, Min,’ Bessie said quietly. ‘We’d never forgive ourselves if . . .’ She left the words unspoken but Minnie, her friend of many years, understood perfectly.
    The two women had a busy day, but by the time Bessie had to go to meet Mary Ann from school as she had promised, Amy’s house was positively gleaming. A fire burned brightly in her range. There was hot water in the boiler behind it and food on her table.
    ‘Sorry, it’s not more, Amy lass, but I’ve a regular army to feed at my house.’ As she said the words, Bessie heard Minnie’s sharp intake of breath and knew the woman thought her tactless. As she had worked through the day, Bessie’s thoughts had not been idle ones. At first, she had dwelt on the woman Amy had once been.
    She remembered the Hamilton family coming to Waterman’s Yard. It was in the spring of 1900. Bessie remembered the date clearly because she had been expecting Dan when Amy and George had arrived to live in the corner house with their little boy, Ronald, who was just learning to walk. She had