Custard Tarts and Broken Hearts by Mary Gibson Page B

him.’ Her father looked at her pityingly. ‘But he couldn’t promise nothing, we’ll just have to wait.’
    They sat together in the little kitchen, besieged by worry and fear for the rest of the day, each taking it in turn to sit with the little boy. Towards evening Nellie was with Bobby, trying to drip water into his parched mouth, when suddenly he took a shuddering breath and opened his eyes.
    She sank down and sobbed, ‘Oh, thank God!’ Then she covered her mouth, stifling her cries, in case she should frighten him. Running to the stairs, she called down as quietly as she could. ‘He’s awake!’
    Her father was first up the stairs, followed by Freddie and Alice. They gathered round Bobby’s bed, tears of joy streaming down each face. As their father leaned over to kiss his son, Bobby lifted his head to ask in a hoarse whisper, ‘Can Nellie stay?’
    Choking back his tears, her father answered, ‘I’ve got one child back, now I’ll make bloody sure I don’t lose another. She can stay, son.’
    Bobby let his head fall back on the pillow, closed his eyes, and smiled.
    Later, when she was assured of his returning strength, Nellie left her father and Freddie tending to him while she went to rest. Sitting with Alice in the quiet kitchen, flooded with relief at Bobby’s survival and joy in her own return home, she finally told her sister where she’d spent her first homeless night. From the light in the young girl’s eyes, Nellie gathered she had jumped to the same conclusion about her and Sam as Lizzie Gilbie had.
    Oh, why did life have to be such a tangle? But she hadn’t the heart to be cross at either her sister or Mrs Gilbie, not with her sweet Bobby safe upstairs. All she knew was that her prayers had been answered and that now she must keep her side of the bargain. Her promise to Lizzie had been compounded by a promise to God and, however burdensome they felt, she knew that whatever life brought her and however far down the road, these were promises she must keep.
    All the following week Nellie remained on strike. Volunteering at the Fort Road Labour Office every day had its compensations: she brought home precious food parcels each evening, which made the children’s faces light up, to say nothing of her father’s. He no longer gave any hint of opposition. It seemed Bobby’s illness really had changed him and now all his powerful anger had melted into an awkward carefulness. His once overpowering physical presence in the house was muted and he haunted the upstairs bedroom like a hulking spirit. Soon he was able to carry Bobby downstairs and deposited the frail boy in his own chair. Nellie shook her head and whispered into Alice’s ear, ‘Leopard’s changed his spots!’, causing Alice to giggle and her father to look up placidly and ask her to share the joke.
    It was another long hard week. Every day Nellie would see Eliza, with her coterie of union workers, gathered in huddles in the Labour Office, before returning to negotiations with the factory owners the next morning. On Friday she and Lily were put to work wrapping parcels in the main hall.
    ‘Aye aye,’ whispered Lily, ‘Madam Mecklenburgh is back!’
    ‘And it’s the first time I’ve seen her crack her face with a smile all week,’ Nellie replied. ‘Oh, Lily, do you think we could’ve won?’
    ‘Please God. Me poor mother’s getting thinner by the day and Dad can’t tighten his bloody belt any further. I can’t see us managing another week of it, Nell, not with Dad out as well as me.’ Lily sighed. Billy Bosher, like his sons, had already been on strike for weeks, and Ted had told them the strike fund was running perilously low.
    Suddenly Eliza James came to the front of the hall and called for attention. Volunteers were summoned from the basement and the back yard and soon the hall was crowded with expectant faces. Eliza paused, her face flushed with excitement, and she paced up and down until everyone had been