The Twelfth Day of July by Joan Lingard

Author:Joan Lingard
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780141926681
Publisher: Penguin Adult
Published: 1973-06-13T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Mrs Jackson Gets a Fright

‘Say what you like,’ said Mrs Jackson some hours later, having said a great deal in the meantime, ‘but there’s no greater blessing than a good neighbour in times of trouble.’ She was sitting drinking tea in Linda’s mother’s kitchen.

‘Treat the house as your own and welcome,’ said Mrs Mullet.

Mrs Mullet had frizzy hair and wore high pointed shoes, the kind that had gone out of fashion years ago. Before the fire, Mrs Jackson had often been heard to observe that Mrs Mullet was not her type; after it, she was her best friend. Mr Mullet and Mr Jackson had gone to the pub; the children had been sent to bed. They had been glad to go.

‘A woman without a kitchen’s like a car without an engine,” sighed Mrs Jackson.

‘You’ll get a nice new one though, won’t you? The landlord’ll have to do it up now. He’ll get it on Insurance. I could do with mine tarted up a bit.’

‘Nothing can be done till after the “Twelfth”,’ said Mrs. Jackson gloomily. ‘All the tradesmen are on holiday.’

‘You’ll just have to content yourself and do your cooking here.’ Mrs Mullet sat down at the table. ‘I’d have killed our Linda if she’d done it to me.’

‘She was with Sadie. They were both frying chips.’

‘I’m sure now, Mrs Jackson, it’d be Sadie’s idea. She is rather a wild one, isn’t she? Oh, just natural of course,’ she added quickly for she could see that Mrs Jackson was bridling. But everybody in the street knew that Sadie Jackson was a holy terror. She and Mr Mullet had been discussing her only the night before and had congratulated themselves that their Linda was a nice polite girl. They had agreed that she kept company too much with Sadie Jackson. Mrs Mullet decided now to send Linda to stay with her aunt in Lurgan for the rest of the holidays. They were ambitious for Linda: they wanted her to grow up nicely and get a good job and move away from streets like these. She might marry a bank clerk or even a teacher… Who knows?

‘There now, Mrs Jackson, eat up. You must be starved. The body needs food after a shock like that.’

In their own house across the road, Sadie and Tommy lay in bed in the fading light. There was no electric light, even if they’d been in a mood to have it on, for the fire had fused the electrical system. They listened to the last of the children playing in the street, calling to one another.

Sadie shivered. She had felt cold since the fire was put out. When she closed her eyes she could still see the flames shooting up the kitchen wall. Her head reeled with the sound of her mother’s voice. ‘Can’t trust you for a second, Sadie Jackson. Give you an inch and you take a mile…’ It had all been said before, on other occasions. Sadie sighed. It had been a stroke of bad luck.

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