chin. Christ, he looked ill, he looked bloody terrible, and no bloody wonder. He had to get out before the girls came home.
A good long walk into town would do him good and he might even look like his old self by the time he reached The Old Bank.
*
‘Well, lads,’ Lily addressed the tap-room with a smile, ‘look what the cat’s dragged in.’
‘Well I’ll be buggered! It’s not often we see Joe Pomfret in here in the middle of the week,’ said Alf.
‘Did you forget what day it were Joe?’ asked someone else.
Joe flushed. He liked to be the one who supplied the jokes and wasn’t used to being at the wrong end of the cheerful banter,
‘As a matter of fact,’ he announced shakily, his mind suddenly made up, ‘I’d like all of you to join me in wetting the baby’s h ead… Florrie’s had a little lad this morning.’ He turned to the landlord, ‘Well come on Andy, get some beer pulled an’ put it on the slate, I’ll make it right with you as soon as I get me wage.’
His pals gathered round to slap him on the back, he was once more exactly where he liked to be, at the centre of attention.
‘You’re a dark horse, Joe,’ Lily forced a smile and squeezed his hand longer than was necessary, ‘you never even told us she were expecting, did you?’
‘Are you sure it’s yours , Joe?’ There was good-natured laughter as Joe’s news spread quickly throughout the pub.
‘Aye, I think yon coal-fella’s been helping you out a bit there, Joe.’
‘Nay, I’ve seen t’ milkman going round to your Florrie’s more’n he should… has he been giving her more’n a pint of milk then, Joe?’
‘Well,’ said old Harry on a softer note, ‘you’ve done better than our King and Queen, Joe…looks like they can only make little lasses, but you’ve got yourself both sorts. Come on, have a gill on me, you’ve done well for yourself there, lad.’
The men pushed gills of beer along the bar in his direction and Joe began to feel surprisingly proud. There was no turning back, he’d done it now, told everybody he had a son but what would that lot think if they knew it could be some other bugger’s kid? He pushed that thought to the back of his mind, for now.
*
Florrie lay with her face to the wall pretending to be asleep. He sat on the edge of the bed then shook her gently; she didn’t stir.
‘I’ve been thinking about all this,’ he said quietly, ‘you can keep it if you want, I’ll bring it up like it were one of me own, and that’ll be the end of it. Well, are you satisfied now?’
‘No, I’m not satisfied,’ she turned to face him. ‘I’m not satisfied because I don’t believe a word you say. You’re out boozing all bloody night and then when you decide to come rolling home you expect me to believe everything’s changed.’ Angry tears rolled down her face. ‘Well, I’ve had enough of your promises Joe Pomfret, do you think I don’t know after all these years when it’s beer that’s talking?’
Without even a glance at the baby, swaddled in a blanket warm and snug in the bottom drawer, Joe undressed and climbed into bed, tossing and turning the same as Florrie until exhaustion finally overcame them both.
The next day he gave the girls breakfast then went upstairs to Florrie with a boiled egg mashed between two slices of bread, and a cup of steaming tea.
‘Here y’are, get this down you afore it gets cold. I’m off to work, I’ll see you later.’ He dropped a kiss on top of her head then gently patted the warm bundle in her arms.
‘It weren't beer talking last night, ’ he muttered, ‘and it’s not beer that's talking this morning. It’s like I said… you can keep it, if that’s what you want.’
She heard him leaving for work, calling to the girls to be careful crossing the roads and to look after their mam after school till he came
A good long walk into town would do him good and he might even look like his old self by the time he reached The Old Bank.
*
‘Well, lads,’ Lily addressed the tap-room with a smile, ‘look what the cat’s dragged in.’
‘Well I’ll be buggered! It’s not often we see Joe Pomfret in here in the middle of the week,’ said Alf.
‘Did you forget what day it were Joe?’ asked someone else.
Joe flushed. He liked to be the one who supplied the jokes and wasn’t used to being at the wrong end of the cheerful banter,
‘As a matter of fact,’ he announced shakily, his mind suddenly made up, ‘I’d like all of you to join me in wetting the baby’s h ead… Florrie’s had a little lad this morning.’ He turned to the landlord, ‘Well come on Andy, get some beer pulled an’ put it on the slate, I’ll make it right with you as soon as I get me wage.’
His pals gathered round to slap him on the back, he was once more exactly where he liked to be, at the centre of attention.
‘You’re a dark horse, Joe,’ Lily forced a smile and squeezed his hand longer than was necessary, ‘you never even told us she were expecting, did you?’
‘Are you sure it’s yours , Joe?’ There was good-natured laughter as Joe’s news spread quickly throughout the pub.
‘Aye, I think yon coal-fella’s been helping you out a bit there, Joe.’
‘Nay, I’ve seen t’ milkman going round to your Florrie’s more’n he should… has he been giving her more’n a pint of milk then, Joe?’
‘Well,’ said old Harry on a softer note, ‘you’ve done better than our King and Queen, Joe…looks like they can only make little lasses, but you’ve got yourself both sorts. Come on, have a gill on me, you’ve done well for yourself there, lad.’
The men pushed gills of beer along the bar in his direction and Joe began to feel surprisingly proud. There was no turning back, he’d done it now, told everybody he had a son but what would that lot think if they knew it could be some other bugger’s kid? He pushed that thought to the back of his mind, for now.
*
Florrie lay with her face to the wall pretending to be asleep. He sat on the edge of the bed then shook her gently; she didn’t stir.
‘I’ve been thinking about all this,’ he said quietly, ‘you can keep it if you want, I’ll bring it up like it were one of me own, and that’ll be the end of it. Well, are you satisfied now?’
‘No, I’m not satisfied,’ she turned to face him. ‘I’m not satisfied because I don’t believe a word you say. You’re out boozing all bloody night and then when you decide to come rolling home you expect me to believe everything’s changed.’ Angry tears rolled down her face. ‘Well, I’ve had enough of your promises Joe Pomfret, do you think I don’t know after all these years when it’s beer that’s talking?’
Without even a glance at the baby, swaddled in a blanket warm and snug in the bottom drawer, Joe undressed and climbed into bed, tossing and turning the same as Florrie until exhaustion finally overcame them both.
The next day he gave the girls breakfast then went upstairs to Florrie with a boiled egg mashed between two slices of bread, and a cup of steaming tea.
‘Here y’are, get this down you afore it gets cold. I’m off to work, I’ll see you later.’ He dropped a kiss on top of her head then gently patted the warm bundle in her arms.
‘It weren't beer talking last night, ’ he muttered, ‘and it’s not beer that's talking this morning. It’s like I said… you can keep it, if that’s what you want.’
She heard him leaving for work, calling to the girls to be careful crossing the roads and to look after their mam after school till he came
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