Tom All Alone 18 (iii)

Cherry

By HarryC

Thu, 11 Jun 2026
  • 487 reads
16 comments
 

 

Mum came to collect Tom on Sunday afternoon. He was watching from the living room window and saw her coming down the road, waving when she spotted him. He ran to the front door just as Uncle George was letting her in. She dropped her bag and crouched down, opening her arms.

"Hello, love. You been good?"

Tom hugged her hard and she gave him a kiss.

"'e's been alright," said Uncle George, looking down at Tom. "'ad a good time, ain't you, boy."

"What have you been up to?"

"Tell your mum what we did yesterday," said Uncle George.

"What did you do?"

"Went to a football match."

"Did you? Did you enjoy it?"

He nodded.

"Who won?"

He looked up at Uncle George. "I can't remember."

Uncle George cackled through his cigarette smoke.

"The other team," he said.

Mum poked her head into the sitting room and said hello to Brendan and Keith, who were watching the telly.

In the kitchen, Auntie Pat was getting dinner ready. She gave mum a hug and put the kettle on.

"I wasn't sure whether to get him a dinner or not. I made enough."

"Thanks, Pat. We won't stop, though."

"You sure?"

"I need to get back."

She turned to Tom.

"You go and sit with your cousins, love. I just need to talk to Auntie Pat and Uncle George a minute."

Keith and Brendan were watching a war film, and a big sea battle was on. It was very loud. Every time there was a bang or explosion Uncle George's budgies shrieked and leapt around their cages.

"I bet they're talking about your dad," said Keith.

"How do you know?"

"I told you. Because that's why you're here."

Tom got up and went to the door.

"You going to spy on them?"

"I'm going to the toilet."

Tom went out to the hall and headed for the bathroom, which was next to the kitchen. He stopped and looked at the kitchen door. He could hear their voices, but couldn't quite make out what they were saying. He heard mum blow her nose. Uncle George sounded like he was saying something gentle to her - the way she sometimes spoke to Tom if he was upset.

"I know he's my brother, Cath," Auntie Pat said then - loud, close to the door. "But believe me..."

The door opened and she came out. Tom turned quickly and grabbed the bathroom door handle, but too late. She glared at him.

"Were you listening to us?"

"No, Auntie Pat. I was going to the toilet."

She folded her arms, still glaring.

"Well, go on then. Hurry up."

He went into the bathroom and locked the door.

 

After they'd left and were walking up to the bus stop - mum holding Tom's hand, carrying his case in the other - he looked up at her. She seemed upset about something.

"What's the matter, mum?"

"Nothing, love. Come on. We don't want to miss this bus."

"Is dad alright?"

"Yes, love. He's at home now. He'll be pleased to see you."

Tom thought about that.

"Hasn't he been well?"

She looked down at him.

"Why do you ask that?"

"Because Keith said he had problems."

She stopped and turned to him.

"What did Keith say?"

His lower lip quivered. "Dad had some problems. He said he heard it."

She looked angry for a moment, turning her head back they way they'd come. But then she looked at him again.

"Dad's alright, don't worry. Keith shouldn't be telling tales. Forget what he said."

They started walking again - quicker now.

"Come on. Let's get back and have some dinner. Bobby's missed you, too. He's waiting to see you."

They got to the stop just as the bus was coming along.

"Made it," said mum. "Thank goodness. Soon be home now."

Home, he thought. Home again.

They sat at the front, where he could see out of the window at the passing houses as they went.

Home.

(continued) https://www.abctales.com/story/harryc/tom-all-alone-19-i

 

 

Certificate U
Story
Tom All Alone
Other Fiction

Comments

Submitted by celticman on

It's the middle and muddle of things. So sad, but so believeable. 

 

Submitted by HarryC on

Certainly is! Nearly finished now. Not the ending many might expect, but truthful.

Thanks for reading, Jack.

Thanks for the cherries! smiley

Submitted by Di_Hard on

Glad Tom made it through the visit. I think you have described his Aunt's family SO WELL. I always feel I would know people in your stories, if I met them :0)

 

Submitted by HarryC on

Thanks, Di. And I was only thinking this afternoon that I need to give more character detail when I do the final draft! This is reassuring.

Submitted by GlosKat on

Good writers like you don't need a lot of words to paint a picture Harry. Like Di I can see your characters in my head perfectly.  Think of Hemingway's Iceberg Principle, and he didn't do too badly !

I think it helps that we're contemporaries, so I've seen people like these myself when I was growing up. 

Am intrigued as to how this will end. In my case my dad left (it was very unusual to have divorced parents in the early 70's and unheard of at the convent) but you've hinted it may not go down that path.

 

Submitted by HarryC on

Thank you, Kat. More reassurance when I need it. Sometimes it feels like a plod, and the prose feels pedestrian. But I suppose it says what it needs to. Yes, the Iceberg Principle... I've experimented with that before. Not so much what's said, but what isn't said. Hemingway had some good advice. My favourites: 'Write drunk, edit sober,' and 'The most essential gift for a good writer is a built-in, shockproof, shit detector. This is the writer’s radar and all great writers have had it.'

As I've said, I've telescoped the time frames a bit and adjusted characters slightly - but the events all happened. Including the ending, which is not far away now. I'll be intrigued to hear reactions to it.

Submitted by GlosKat on

I hadn't heard that 'Write drunk, edit sober' but I love it. 

As I don't drink alcohol, I think I will have my own version 'Write with passion, edit without it'.  smiley

 

Submitted by HarryC on

That's probably a better idea, Kat. I find I get ideas when I'm a few sheets to the wind, and write them down with enthusiasm. Trouble is, next day I realise they're a load of rubbish! I remember Bruce Robinson saying that when he was asked to write the screenplay for Hunter Thompson's 'The Rum Diary' film, he'd been sober for about 8 years. But he found he needed to drink in order to get in the right frame of mind for writing that booze-riddled script! So his doctor allowed him a 'medicinal' bottle of wine a day. I suppose at least he could have claimed it as a business expense!

Submitted by GlosKat on

Off on a complete tangent, I have started reading that John Mcnulty book you recommended 'This Place on Third Avenue'.  I'm loving it. I thought his wife's introduction of the story of her husband's life was fascinating.  

And yet again, as with the Joseph Mitchell stories, I can see my grandad (a steward on the Cunard run from Southampton to New York) wandering around 1930s New York.  He might well have gone to Costello's saloon as he was Irish on his mother's side. He might even have had a drink with John Mcnulty !  They were actually the same age, born in 1895.

 

Submitted by HarryC on

That would be something! I'd like to imagine it. Or maybe he ate at Sloppy Louie's!

I'm re-reading 'Up In The Old Hotel' again. It remains my desert island book. Glad you like those books.

You might remember the piece, earlier in 'Tom All Alone', where Tom sits with his gran and she tells him about going out to Canada as a young woman to work on a ranch in Saskatchewan. My nan did that. It was a remarkable thing to do - a young woman, born and raised in a tiny Sussex village, who'd never even been to London before. She was born in 1891, so this would have been around 1909, when she was 18. Such an amazing adventure. People would probably think nothing of it nowadays. But back then, it was a massive thing to do.

Submitted by GlosKat on

I think women were a lot more intrepid than we might think, Harry.  Well done to your gran.

My great grandmother, a working class girl from Southampton (in fact the mother of my grandad above) went to sea on the White Star liners as a seamstress and children's nurse.  She ended up as a governess in Venice in the 1880's, working for the ambassador's family at the Japanese embassy (the ambassador was actually French, so she spoke French, which was an amzing thing in itself).  I inherited some beautiful Satsuma vases and Shibuchi earrings which were hers.  I wish I could have talked to her about her life, but unfortunately she died about twenty years before I was born.

 

Submitted by HarryC on

I agree. Strong and independent-minded women at a time before universal suffrage, and where women usually had a 'place' in society, and needed to know that place.

What a fascinating life your great-grandmother led, too. White Star liners. My nan came back to England just after the Titanic went down. She only returned for a short holiday, to see her family. But while she was back she met a man... who became my grandfather! So her big adventure ended there and another one began: raising a family. But her tales of life on the prairies were passed on to all of us. Mum heard them growing up, so did I. Mum always wanted to go out there and see it herself, but thought she would never make it. In 2007, though - on the eve of her 80th birthday - I was able to take her out there. We rented a cabin in the small town closest to the settlement where the ranch had been, at Edgeley. Sadly the ranch no longer existed. But a granddaughter of the woman my nan worked for still lived in a tiny house there, and we looked her up. She was the same age as mum. She'd lived at Edgeley all her life, never been out of Saskatchewan. The settlement had fewer than 100 inhabitants over a four block grid of probably less that a quarter of a square mile. It had a chapel and a community centre, but no shops. She was equidistant between the city of Regina and the town of Fort Qu'Appelle - about 30 minutes by bus to each. So she'd go in once a week for her shopping. She was partly disabled with arthritis, but managed to stay in that house way up into her 80s, when she had to finally give it up for residential care. They had six months of snow each year, and she always managed to dig herself out! We kept in touch regularly until she sadly passed away three years ago, in her late 90s. It was incredible to meet her and hear about her life. She wrote a weekly column on Edgeley news for the Fort Qu'Appelle local paper. She also took in waifs and strays and had several cats and one dog. She grew what she could in her garden. It was a very tough life - but she was born to it. Incredible resilience. And her favourite TV programme was.... Coronation Street. So she was really pleased to meet up with people, for the first time, from England.

Submitted by GlosKat on

That's so interesting !  I'm really pleased you managed to get out there to see it.  I've been to Venice and imagined my great-gran wandering around the same streets in a long skirt and a big hat.

I don't know if you've read Isabella Bird's A Lady's Life in the Rocky Mountains but if you haven't then I'd thoroughly recommend it.  She was in Canada earlier than your gran, in the 1870s.  Amazingly intrepid woman, and a very entertaining writer.

 

Submitted by HarryC on

I'll look it up, thanks. Can I suggest 'Photographing Montana' by Donna M Lucey - about the photographer Evelyn Cameron (in case you don't know of her). She was a 19th-century British aristo who gave it all up to marry a Scottish naturalist, and they both went out to Montana to build a small ranch with the intention of raising polo ponies (I think) for the British market. That didn't work out, and they lived a pretty rough, hard-scrabble existence. He tried to make money from writing articles for nature magazines, while she did the hard work with keeping their animals, growing veg, digging lignite for fuel, etc. It's an absolutely fascinating story. I first came across it in Jonathan Raban's book 'Bad Land.' Evelyn did lots of different things to try to make extra money. One of them was to take in travelers as a kind of bed-and-breakfast, one of whom happened to be a photographer. That fired her imagination and enthusiasm, so she bought her own camera, taught herself how to use it and develop the prints... and the rest is history. Her photos of the people, lives, and the changing landscape in those settler communities went on to become known around the world. I based my short story 'Still Life' on her/their story. I think the book is still in print. It's largely based on the extensive journals she kept during those years. Here's a short introduction to her... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aLPzRBQ_8eQ&t=13s

PS I've just checked, and it does look - sadly - like it's out of print. There is one used copy on Amazon, though, for under £20. Better copies are £84 and £108! I treasure my copy. The photographs are stunning - though you should be able to find them all online. Her journals are a remarkable insight.

Submitted by GlosKat on

Thanks Harry.  I'll put that on my books bucket list !

I think it's great people on ABC recommend books to each other.  

 

Submitted by HarryC on

Me, too. As Joseph Brodsky said: 'There are worse crimes than burning books. One is not reading them.' And I don't read anywhere near enough, and have got no excuse for it.