Free The Likes of Us by Stan Barstow Page B

suppose he thinks I’m the smartest woman he’s ever seen.’
    â€˜But you could be smart,’ Eva cried. ‘You could if you got away from here. What’s the use of bothering here, though, livin’ week in an’ week out miles from anywhere with a husband who spends all his money on gamblin’ an’ drinkin’? How can anybody take a pride in conditions like that?’
    â€˜Well, my place is with your father, Eva, and that’s all there is to it.’
    â€˜But you don’t–’
    â€˜That’ll do,’ her mother said quietly.
    Eva said, ‘Oh!’ and stood up with an impatient gesture.
    The radio was still playing. ‘Do we have to have this thing on?’
    â€˜You can switch if off if you like. I was listening to some old-time dance music, but it’s over now.’
    Eva went round the back of the chair and turned the knob. In the silence that followed she remained standing there, one hand resting on top of the wireless cabinet, her back to her mother.
    â€˜Mother,’ she said suddenly, and turned round, ‘am I illegitimate?’
    Her mother started. ‘No, you’re not.’
    â€˜But you an’ me dad had to get married because of me, hadn’t you?’
    â€˜No, no. It wasn’t quite like that. We did get married when we knew you were coming; but we should have done anyway. We weren’t forced into it.’ She met her daughter’s eyes. ‘How did you find out?’
    â€˜Oh, it’s something I’ve hid in the back of me mind for a long while now,’ Eva said, still standing behind the chair. ‘It was just a matter of checkin’ a couple of dates to make sure.’
    â€˜Have you said anything to Eric?’
    â€˜No.’
    â€˜Are you going to?’
    â€˜I don’t see why I should.’
    â€˜Neither do I,’ Mrs Scurridge said. ‘But you don’t think he’d mind, do you?’
    â€˜I don’t know,’ Eva said frankly. ‘He... Well, he’s a bit straitlaced about some things, is Eric. I don’t see any point in spoiling anything…’
    â€˜But nobody can call you illegitimate, Eva,’ Mrs Scurridge said. ‘We were married months before y…’ She turned her gaze to the fire. ‘I’m sorry, love. I never saw any reason to tell you.’
    â€˜Oh, don’t you be sorry.’ Eva’s mouth set. ‘It’s him, not you.
    â€˜You shouldn’t hate your father so much, Eva.’
    â€˜How can I help it when everything he touches turns rotten? He’s spoilt your life an’ he’d have done the same with mine if I hadn’t stood up to him. He couldn’t even get married in a right way. He had to get hold of you by getting you into trouble.’
    â€˜It wasn’t like that at all,’ her mother said intensely. ‘He was different in those days. You’d never credit the difference.’
    â€˜So you tell me. But I can’t remember him like that. The only father I know is a tight-fisted, mean-hearted old rotter who can’t live decent for gamblin’ everything away.
    â€˜Oh, Eva, Eva.’
    â€˜I’m sorry,’ she said; ‘but it just makes me boil.’
    â€˜Look,’ her mother said. ‘Just look in that album on the table and you’ll see your father as he was.’
    Eva moved to the table and opened the cover of the album. ‘I don’t remember seeing this before.’
    â€˜I might have shown it to you when you were little. I haven’t had it out meself for years. It was that old-time dance music on the wireless that made me remember it. It started me thinkin’ back…’
    Eva pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. ‘He wasn’t bad-looking as a young man…’
    â€˜A little wiry dandy of a man, he was,’ Mrs Scurridge said. ‘Honest, hardworking, full of fun. I was twenty-two when I met