I have a hunch it’ll all work out.
3
Clovis did get work, donkey work as a stevedore in Plymouth
carried huge barrels and heavy sacks from the ships to the warehouses and from the warehouses to the trucks
he got on with the other stevedores, many was seasoned former seamen who didn’t think he’d dropped from Mars
they’d go for drinks after work, he came home tipsy on good nights, drunk on bad ones
after I’d put the children to bed, the three I had
in as many years
I was left alone with the children all day and all evening
I heard people cuss as they passed me, very few were friendly
I was served last in whatever shop I went into, even when I was first in the queue
cars deliberately drove into puddles when I was pushing Shirley in her black bassinet and the two boys was attached to harnesses either side of me
I was the one to find a dead rat on our doorstep
I was the one to live with GO HOME daubed in white paint on our front door until Clovis painted over it
I was the one who had to spend my evenings alone and scared they was going to throw a petrol-soaked rag through the window
however, Rachel, one thing I learnt from my time down there, is that if you stay somewhere long enough, and behave in a civilized manner, people will get used to you
Mrs Beresford, an elderly widow, who lived a few doors down, was the first to have a proper chat
she used to stoop down into the pram to stroke Shirley’s cheek, who grasped her fingers and wouldn’t let go
babies are innocent, Mrs Beresford said, this is an agreeable place to live, Mrs Robinson, once people get to know you
she handed the boys sherbet fountains and they eagerly snatched them before I could object because I didn’t let them eat sweets, another bad English custom
I did allow them a small slice of the pound cake Mrs Beresford brought around on her first visit
she introduced me to Mrs Wright and Mrs Missingham, both from the local church, at a special tea she laid on for me and the children after school one day
it was my first time in an English person’s home, I remember it clear as daylight and wanting a home like this for my family
there was a rug of flowers over wooden floorboards in the sitting room, rose wallpaper, lots of pictures hung up, a heavy dresser with plates displayed in rows as if they were ornaments, which I found odd, heavy drapes at the window and a luxurious settee, or so it seemed to me, as well as to Tony and Errol who bounced up and down on it until I had to tell them to stop because Mrs Beresford was too polite to do so herself
she showed me how to toast crumpets over the coal fire
how to make tea using proper milk and not condensed
how to put the milk in last and not first
Mrs Beresford
invited us to church and when my family of five entered the drive, her and Mrs Wright and Mrs Missingham greeted us as if we was long-lost friends
they each took a child protectively by the hand
and walked us in
even at the park the mothers got tired of calling their own children away from ours as if they might catch leprosy
very small children don’t care about skin colour, Rachel, until they’re brainwashed by their parents
when Tony started at Everdene Primary School, followed by Errol, they came home in tears because the kids called them Sooty
they was getting caned and made to stand in a corner of the classroom with their faces turned to the wall by teachers who picked on them
it wasn’t us, Mummy, they’d complain, it wasn’t us
me and Clovis drummed it into our boys to behave well at all times
we knew our boys was lively but they wasn’t bad
one time I was waiting to collect them at the school gate and saw two older boys jump Tony who fought back, my brave little boy
as I rushed towards him Mr Moray the headmaster got there first, grabbed Tony by the scruff of his blazer and marched him back into the building
the two bully boys laughed, dusted themselves off, picked up their satchels, walked scot-free out of the gates
when Shirley started primary school, she too came home crying at being called Sooty no matter how many times Clovis marched up to the school to tell Mr Watson to tell the children to stop picking on his pickney
then another coloured girl joined the school, a likkle half-caste called Estelle who was light-skinned with light hair that fell in Shirley Temple ringlets
Estelle was the type of red-skinned child people call pretty on account of it
her mother was one of those long-haired beatnik-types who wore black slacks, a beret, and a scruffy leather jacket like Marlon Brando
I was properly attired: below-the-knee dress, cardigan, coat, tights, shoes, headscarf tied under my chin
Vivienne tried to talk to me at the school gate, she was a painter, Estelle’s father was a Cape Coloured in exile from apartheid in South Africa
what was apartheid or a Cape Coloured?
don’t look so shocked, Rachel, apartheid wasn’t general knowledge in those days, anyway Vivienne soon gave up trying to be my friend, which was fine because we had nothing in common – not even our daughters
Estelle was treated nicely by the teachers, who greeted the children when they arrived each morning, most of them ignored Shirley, who was too young to notice
Estelle, who couldn’t hold a tune, was cast as Mary in the school nativity play and sung solos
Shirley, who had a lovely voice, was cast as a palm tree and made to stand at the back of the stage
along with the boy with a hare lip
and the girl with a club foot
the next day I told Clovis, you can stay here but the mother of your children is returning to London
with them.
4
Winsome is distracted by the men who come back into view through the kitchen window and amble up the beach in the blazing heat, neither wearing sun cream nor a sun hat, in spite of her nagging
years ago brown-skinned people thought they was immune from sun damage and ended up with skin cancer
even today most men don’t bother with sun protection
as if it makes them less manly
Lennox is more like Clovis than she likes to think, physically and temperamentally
Winsome reckons this is why Shirley chose him, subconsciously he was familiar to her
maybe that’s why Winsome herself took to her son-in-law
a younger, sexier version of the man she married
in a few weeks’ time, after the men have made the boat sea-worthy
after
they’ve replaced the missing planks from the hull and installed the new engine and propeller
after
they’ve stood back and admired their handicraft
after
they’ve launched the boat with a bottle of rum smashed against her hull
they’ll go out before daylight to capture flying fish, drop lines to pick up dorado and billfish along the way, once they’re far out, they’ll throw cane trash and palm fronds on to the sea to act as a screen, drop baskets underneath them that release bait slowly, once the flying fish have gathered for this meal, they’ll be scooped into nets, although hauling in nets is harder when you’re older, Clovis says, when he returns with an aching back that she massages for him
fishing is an important part of who he is, it makes him feel like a real man, a man who goes out to work, who provides, even in retirement
Madison wakes up on Rachel’s lap, looks groggily around to orientate herself, tumbles from her mother’s lap, waddles out of the door and runs to greet the men when she sees them walk towards the house on the coral-coloured sand
she positions herself between them, they each take a hand and swing her
it’s a charming picture
Rachel thanks Winsome for confiding in her, it’s quite a story, Nana, you were a trailblazer
we was just two people who went foreign, Rachel, nothing trailblazing about that