He frowned. ‘What’s up wi’ thee? You sound off.’
‘Have your soup first. I know you must be frozen. Afterwards we’ll have a chat.’
Bobby took her time serving the soup. By the time she had sliced and buttered some bread, her dad was in a half-doze. She didn’t summon him to the small dining table, but served the meal on a tray so he could eat it at the fireside. It was too cold to move far from the flames that evening.
‘Dad?’ she whispered, pressing his shoulder.
‘Hmm?’ He roused himself. ‘Just resting my eyes.’
‘Here. Eat this up, it’ll warm you.’
‘You not having any?’ he asked as she took a seat opposite.
‘I’ve a shift at the shelter later. I’ll take mine in a Thermos.’
She watched as the spoon moved back and forth to his lips. His hand shook, as it always did – part of the legacy of his time in the trenches.
Bobby had made her choice and she was sure it was the right one, but still, she felt a worry verging on dread about how everything would work out at home. Reg had said he couldn’t guarantee he would take Tony on, and even if he did, it was such a low wage. For a man of Tony’s age – a man who would soon be the head of a family – accepting a salary of twenty shillings a week would be beyond humiliating. Yet Bobby knew Reg couldn’t afford to pay more, when he was himself living on the subscription postal orders as they came in.
It was true that the job came with accommodation, but the draughty barn Bobby lived in with her father was hardly ideal for a young family. It could feel crowded even for two, the thin walls making it feel as though there was very little privacy, and it was so very cold in the autumn and winter months – even in the summer there was a perpetual chill in the air. When it was wet the roof leaked, and they were forever tripping over the pots and pans dotted around the place. When the wind blew, which it invariably did, each icy blast howled down the chimney and crept into aching bones. There was no plumbing, and the electric was unreliable. Too often during periods of bad weather, they had to sit in the dark for days until a man could get to them from Skipton to fix it.
And then there was Tony. Her dad had long despised the man, whose reputation as a ladykiller had been well-known in the pubs of their home town, and Tony Scott with his ever-fragileamour proprewas not the sort of person who would relish sharing another man’s home. Both men would likely resent having to share the title of head of the household. Supposing Tony decided his family would be better off in Liverpool, wherehigher wages were to be had, in spite of the bombings? Lilian would be so isolated there, and so afraid for her little one.
Still, the idea of her dad being left alone frightened Bobby more than any of the alternatives. No housekeeper could understand him the way his daughters did – not even Mary could do that. Bobby knew he would feel humiliated at the idea of anyone outside the family knowing how he passed his nights – the tears and the screams – or how he struggled to resist the temptations of the bottle. Feelings of humiliation and worthlessness had always been where the most danger lay.
Bobby had seen for herself the consequences of leaving her dad to dwell in the dark places in his head. Her father needed someone who knew how to help him, Lilian and her baby needed a home where they’d be safe from danger, and Tony needed a job. As imperfect as it was, this was the only solution that would give everyone what they required.
Chapter 18
When her father had finished eating, Bobby took his bowl to the sink and sat back down again.
‘Did you see anyone you knew at the pub?’ she asked, as a way of opening the conversation.
‘Ran into Pete.’
‘Pete Dixon?’
Her dad’s friendship with that local ne’er-do-well had largely petered out since he had started working for Topsy, but Bobby always worried Pete would try to drag her father into some fresh trouble.
‘Aye. Gave him an earful about them rabbit traps I found up by t’ lake last week.’
‘What did he say?’
Rob shrugged. ‘Just laughed and bought us a pint. Hard to be angry wi’ t’ man for long. Still, he knows full well I’ll smash ’em up soon as he puts ’em down. Don’t know why he wastes his time poaching on my patch.’
‘Don’t let him talk you into anything, will you? I know what he’s like.’
‘I know which side my bread’s buttered, don’t worry. I’ll not chuck a good job away for Pete Dixon’s benefit.’
‘Glad to hear it.’
Bobby hesitated, wondering how to broach the tricky topic of her sister and Tony.
‘It’ll be nice to see our Lil, won’t it?’ she said after a moment.
‘Aye, always nice to have the pair of you at home,’ her dad said with a vague smile.
The wireless was on in the background. Bobby went to turn it off. The swing music it was playing didn’t feel appropriate to what she was about to say.
