A Whisper to the Living

A Whisper to the Living by Ruth Hamilton

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Authors: Ruth Hamilton
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regular letters and parcels from Tom in Philadelphia, so my life, apart from the great worry about my mother and Ernie, continued on an even keel for several months.
    When my mother began to get fat, I took little notice. Some people were fat, some were thin; nobody bothered much about shapes and sizes in those days. It was Mrs Cullen who inadvertently told me the reason for my mother’s increased girth. We were sitting out at the back of the house enjoying a sunny September afternoon. Around us were piles of ‘clear-outs’ among which the little kids played while we elders – Josie, Allan and I – sat drinking dandelion and burdock with Mrs Cullen.
    ‘What dost want then, a brother or a sister?’ Oh no, not again. Surely there were not going to be eight Cullens? I noticed that she was not looking at Josie or at Allan as she spoke.
    ‘Are you talking to me, Mrs Cullen?’
    ‘I am that, lass. Did you think I were askin’ our Josie? Don’t you think I’ve done my share then? Nay, I’m ’avin’ no more. I’m even thinkin’ o’ sendin’ George off ter Siberia ter mek sure.’ Her great belly shook with laughter. ‘But it’s time you got a little playmate, isn’t it? Eeh, I can see yer now, pushin’ yer pram round Long Moor. Aye, it’s not before time. ’Ow old are you now?’
    ‘Eight and a half,’ I answered, hoping I didn’t sound too stunned.
    ‘Big gap, that. Still, never mind, eh?’ She was staring hard at me now. ‘Eeh lass – didn’t you know, ’aven’t they told you?’
    I shook my head.
    ‘Well then, tek no notice o’ me, I could be wrong. It’s just I’ve ’ad so many meself I recognize t’ symptoms, if yer get me meanin’. She might just be puttin’ a bit o’ weight on, luv.’
    I was trying to organize my thoughts. A brother or sister, a baby in the house, how did I feel about that? I concluded that my feelings were mixed. With a new baby about, Eddie Higson would be pleased and would perhaps take even less notice of me – that would be a good thing. But a baby would take my mother’s attention too, leaving her with less time for me. And what about poor Ernie? She wouldn’t be able to have a lie down with him in the afternoons any more, not with a baby to feed and change. Perhaps Ernie would go elsewhere now and we would both miss him.
    ‘By the way, Annie,’ said Josie. ‘We’re moving, you know.’
    Oh no, not again! Mrs Cullen laughed at the expression on my face.
    ‘We’re movin’ across the road from you, Annie,’ she giggled. ‘You’ll be able ter stick yer ’ead out o’ t’ winders an’ yell across at us.’
    Thank goodness for that, at least. ‘We’ve got a swap for a four bedroomed,’ said Allan. ‘Though I think the real reason is the council wants to get at this lot and clean it up.’
    Mrs Cullen roared with laughter. ‘Aye. ’Appen they’ll move us every time as t’ garden gets full!’
    ‘When are you moving?’ I asked, just for something to say, something to take my mind off the possible changes at home.
    ‘Couple o’ weeks,’ answered Mrs Cullen. ‘Now you get off ’ome an’ see is yer Mam needin’ you. If she’s the way I think she is, she’ll be needin’ all the ’elp she can get. Oh, before you go – come ’ere a minute.’ I bent down so that she could whisper in my ear. ‘Tell ’er to go careful wi’ that Ernie feller. Don’t worry, I won’t say nothin’ ter nobody. I saw ’em together in Town last week an’ once before at your door. Tell er . . .’ Her voice dropped even lower. ‘Tell ’er ’e’s wed wi’ three kids of ’is own.’
    I fled homeward, my face burning with shame. I’d begun to pick things up at school, dirty words about what men and women did together, stories of bad women who would ‘go’ with anybody, even married men. Although I wasn’t yet fully aware of what it all meant, I didn’t want my Mam to be a bad woman.
    When I opened the front door, all was quiet, yet the air

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