'Tell me it's not true. Say it's just a story.'
'So did you hear the story of the Bucket twins? As like each other as two new pins, of one womb born, on the selfsame day, how one was kept and one given away? And did you never hear how the Buckets died. Never knowing that they shared one name, till the day they died, when a mother cried; My own dear sons lie slain? And did you never hear of the mother, so cruel, there's a stone in place of her heart? Then bring her on and come judge for yourselves, how she came to play this part.'
'Once I had a husband,
You know the sort of chap,
I met him at a dance and how he came on with the chat.
He said my eyes were a chocolate brown,
My skin as soft as snow,
He told me I was sexier than Marilyn Monroe.
And we went dancing,
We went dancing.
Then, of course, I found
That I was six weeks overdue.
We got married at the registry and then we had a 'do'.
We all had curly salmon sandwiches,
And how the ale did flow,
They said the bride was lovelier than Marilyn Monroe.
And we went dancing,
Yes, we went dancing.
Then the baby came along,
We called him Danny Champ,
Then three months on I found that I was in the club again,
And though I still fancied dancing,
My husband wouldn't go,
With a wife he said was twice the size of Marilyn Monroe.
No more dancing
No more dancing.
By the time I was twenty-five,
I looked like fourty-two,
With seven hungry mouths to feed and one more nearly due.
My husband, he'd walked out on me,
A month or two ago,
For a girl they say who looks a bit like Marilyn Monroe.
And they go dancing
They go dancing
Yes they go dancing
They go-'
"Listen, love, I'm up to here with hard-luck stories; you owe me three pounds, seventeen and fourpence and either you pay up today, like now, or I'll be forced to cut off your deliveries." the Milkman said, rudely interrupting the female.
"I said, I said, look, next week I'll pay you-" Mrs. Bucket tried but was cut off by the miffed Milkman.
"Next week, next week! Next week never arrives around here. I'd be a rich man if next week ever came." the man groaned, taking and replacing milk bottles at each house except one as he took the bottles but didn't put any milk bottles down.
"But look, look, I start a job next week. I'll have money coming in and I'll be able to pay you. You can't stop the milk. I need the milk. I'm pregnant." Mrs. Bucket cried, resisting the urge to grab the Milkman.
"Well, don't look at me, love. I might be a Milkman but it's got nothing to do with me. Now you've been told, no money, no milk," and with that, the Milkman shoved his back to Mrs. Bucket only to walk off until he was out of sight only to turn and return to pinning up the laundry. What was she going to do now?
"Mum, Mum, the baby's crying. He wants his bottle. Where's the milk?" the female flinched as she heard her young daughter call out.
"Hey, Mum, how come I'm on free dinners? All the other kids laugh at me." another cried.
"Hey, Mother, I'm starving and there's nothing in. There never bloody well is." one kid snapped.
Mrs. Bucket flinched only to put her laundry basket down and peered through the open door with a stern look on her face, "don't swear, I've told you." she said to her son who just stared back at her.
"Mum, I can't sleep, I'm hungry, I'm starving..." a young girl in jeans moaned, slamming her head on the wall in pure agony.
"And me, Mum. And me." all six cried with the tune of a baby's sobs.
Mrs. Bucket viewed the kids all looking like children who worked in Victorian factories and were as thin as paper that it was a miracle that they were still alive!
'I know it's hard on all you kids,
But try and get some sleep,
Next week I'll be earnin'
We'll have loads of things to eat,
We'll have ham, an' jam, an' spam an'
"Roast Beef, Yorkshire Puddin', Battenberg Cake, Chicken an' Chips, Corned Beef, Sausages, Treacle Tart, Mince an' Spuds, Milk Shake for the baby." Mrs. Bucket listed only to chuckle as she heard all the moans of delight coming from the children and the giggles from the baby as if it could understand the mother.
'When I bring home the dough,
We'll live like kings, like bright young things,
Like Marilyn Monroe.
And we'll go dancing...'
As Mrs. Bucket hummed away with her song as she entered a large building, a gasp left her lips as she saw how beautiful it was despite who owned it. The female walked in, spotting cleaning supplies neatly placed in the corner. She smiled and already began studied the equipment as she hummed only to flinch as she heard a chuckle come from behind her. Looking back, Mrs. Bucket saw a tall figure in a white dentistry outfit, two white latex gloves sat in his hands.
"Hello, Mrs. Bucket, how are you? Is the job working out all right for you?" he asked with a cocky smile.
"It's, erm, great. Thank you. It's such a lovely house it's a pleasure to clean it." Mrs. Bucket said, turning back to the cleaning supplies and chose the mop.
Dr. Wonka just chuckled as he watched the female starting her work with the floor, "It's a pretty house, isn't it? It's a pity it's so tall. I'm finding it rather large at present." he answered honestly making his way towards the table and took a seat on one of the comfy armchairs, that was when Mrs. Bucket noticed the dull looking box in his hands.
"Oh. Yeah. With your assistant being away and that? When does he come back, Dr. Wonka?" Mrs. Bucket asked, looked at the dentist who was opening the box with graceful care.
Dr. Wonka looked up from his box only to look at Mrs. Bucket, "oh, it seems such a long time. The Company sent her out there for nine months, so, what's that, she'll be back in about five months' time." he explained with his dull blue eyes taking glances from the woman to the box in his lap before back at her.
"Ah, you'll be glad when he's back, won't you? The house won't feel so empty then, will it?" Mrs. Bucket smiled memories entering her mind when her Mr. Bucket was still around.
Dr. Wonka remained silent as he finished unwrapping the item inside the box only for an awkward chuckle left his throat, "actually, Mrs. B, we bought such a large house for the- for the children- we thought children would come along."
Mrs. Bucket mopped away at the floor but not in any ordinary fashion but if she was at a Royal Ball and she had become Cinderella with the mop being Prince Charming, dancing through the night until the clock struck midnight, she took several glances at Dr. Wonka only to shrug her shoulders as she stopped dancing as her mind clouded with dizziness. "Well, you might still be able to..." she said only to notice Dr. Wonka's heavily shaking head.
"No, I'm afraid..." he sighed, looking like he was about to cry, "we've been trying for such a long time now..." Mrs. Bucket went to comfort the male with a soft rub on his back but decided not to, "... I wanted to adopt but... my assistant is... well, she says she wanted her own nephew or neice, not someone else's. Myself, I believe that an adopted child can become one's own." Dr. Wonka chuckled as he looked at Mrs. Bucket who looked quite moved with his words.
"Ah yeah... yeah." Mrs. Campball nodded, her mind wandering off to her own litter of kids back at home probably starvin' their arses off, she chuckled to herself, "hey, it's weird though, isn't it? Here's you can't have kids, and me, I can't stop having them. My husband used to say that all we had to do was shake hands and I'd be in the club. He must have shook hands with me before he left. I'm having another one, you know." Mrs. Bucket explained, giving her baby bump that was starting to show a rub while resting her hands from cleaning with her mop.
Dr. Wonka looked at the baby bump but looking away with a look of overcoming sadness as if life wanted to toss him a boot but this time one made of steel at his heart. "Oh, I see..." he sighed, hoping Mrs. Bucket wouldn't notice his storm cloud over his head.
Mrs. Bucket widened her eyes only to clear her throat, gaining Dr. Wonka's attention again, "oh but look, look, it's all right, Dr. Wonka, I'll still be able to do my work. Having babies, it's like clockwork to me. I'm back on my feet and working the next day, you know. If I have this one at the weekend I won't even need to take one day off. I love this job, you know. We can just manage to get by now-" suddenly, while she was talking, Dr. Wonka had taken out his new shoes from his box before placing them on the table and as Mrs. Bucket noticed this she stopped with pure panic on her face, "Jesus Christ, Dr. Wonka, what are y' trying to do?" she suddenly demanded, her legs turned to jelly and about to fall any second.
Dr. Wonka looked at Mrs. Bucket with confusion and worry, "my God, what's wrong?" he asked, she was fine just a second ago.
"The shoes... The shoes..." the mother stuttered as she pointed to the shoes on the table.
"Pardon?" the dentist wondered, seriously confused of what Mrs. Bucket was trying to tell him.
Finally, the strength was found and the words slipped out, "new shoes on the table, take them off..." she panted.
Dr. Wonka looked at Mrs. Bucket only to turn to his brand new shoes that glistened in the light only to pick them up before placing them on the floor while keeping an eye on the woman in the lightly ruined flowery dress and apron who was still quivering before him.
Relief began to show from the mother as he does so, "oh God, Dr. Wonka, never put new shoes on the table... you never know what'll happen." Mrs. Bucket warned as she gave Dr. Wonka a firm look in the eye, chocolate brown eyes meeting the storm blue eyes in a non-tense environment of a home.
Dr. Wonka remained dead quiet until he began twigging it with laughter as realization struck him, Mrs. Bucket had no idea what he was laughing at at all really, and only stopped when he managed to calm down and wipe the tears from his eyes, "Oh... you mean you're superstitious?" he grinned.
"No, but you never put new shoes on the table." Mrs. Bucket said with a stern voice and strict body language with a dented lip look.
Dr. Wonka just chuckled, "oh, go on with you." he said playfully as he gently stroked his beard only to grab his new shoes and stand, "look, if it will make you any happier I'll put them away." and with that, Dr. Wonka walked into another room with the new shoes.
'There's shoes upon the table an' a joker in the pack. The salt's been spilled and a looking glass cracked. There's one lone magpie overhead.'
"I'm not superstitious."
'The Mother said.'
"I'm not superstitious."
'The Mother said.'
Mrs. Bucket, being led by a pretty looking nurse, entered a room where she was about to have her pregnancy checked with the local Gynaecologist. She sighed only to see the man awaiting her and stiffened as she recognized the Milkman dressed in that hospital clothing.
"What are you doin' here?" she asked, staring at the short haired man, "the milk bill's not due till Thursday."
The Milkman straightened his clothes with a small smile, "actually I've given up the milk round and gone into medicine." admitted the male as he reached around only to produce a listening funnel out that was going to be used on Mrs. Bucket and the unborn baby, "I'm your gynaecologist." he then got closer to Mrs. Bucket and started to examine her that included a little bit of touching, just harmless touchings around the hips, he was going to examine the baby after all not herself, "okay, Mummy, let's have a little listen to the baby's ticker, shall we?" he asked as he began to procedure of listening with the funnel.
Mrs. Bucket looked down at Gynaecologist doing his work, her mind filled with ideas with what her future held. Her future son or daughter forming inside of her made her remember the sweet joys of being a mother. She sighed, "I was dead worried about havin' another baby, you know, Doctor. I didn't see how we were gonna manage with another mouth to feed. But now I've got me a little job we'll be okay. If I'm careful we can just scrape by, even with another mouth to feed." Mrs. Bucket explained with a small smile appearing on her lips as she could see it all in her head with her children and her living just like living should be and with them would be Mrs. Bucket's eighth baby son or daughter, it was so close now!
The Gynaecologist then moved his head after he had finished his examination and clapped his hands together after putting the funnel to one side.
"Mouths, Mummy." he corrected.
"What?" Mrs. Bucket wondered, snapping out of her imagination after hearing his voice.
"Plural, Mrs. Bucket. Mouths to feed. You're expecting twins. Congratulations." he grinned as he patted her back and gave her a small hug, being careful not to accidentally crush the babies before pulling away and walked on behind Mrs. Bucket, "and the next one, please, Nurse." his voice rang out.
Time passed, Mrs. Bucket was still numbed by the news, and soon she was back at work but not doing anymore ballroom dancing with the mop but circular scrubbing on the table that she should be careful unless she'd like to saw a circle-shaped hole in the fine wooden table.
"Hello, Mrs. B. How are you?" the sound of Dr. Wonka's voice made Mrs. Bucket jump but she contained herself and continued to stay silent. "Mrs. B? Anything wrong?" the dentist asked again, walking over and placed a gentle gloved hand on the female's shoulder and felt the light shake.
"I... I had it all worked out." she finally said, keeping her eyes focused to the floor but her scrubbing stopped as Dr. Wonka took the cloth away from her.
"What's the matter?" the silver haired male asked, genuenly concerned for this woman's behalf, what ever could be making her act like this?
"We were just getting straight." she gasped out as she tried to repicture her plan with the apparent twins but it all became too fuzzy and messed up to see clearly.
"Why don't you sit down." Dr. Wonka said, leading the poor woman to a soft looking chair and sat her down before pulling himself a wooden chair to sit besides her before placing a hand on top of her's.
"With one more baby we could have managed." she said, "but not with two. The welfare have already been on to me. They say I'm incapable of controllin' the kids I've already got. They say I should put some of them into care. But I won't. I love the ink of every one of them. I'll even love these two when they come along. But like they say at the welfare, kids can't live on love alone." Mrs. Bucket croaked out, going red in the face and looked as if she would cry.
"Twins? You're expecting twins?" he asked, amazed that a woman who's mentioned she had round about seven children was capable of having two more. That would make it nine children, God how was she still alive herself? Suddenly, upon thinking on how the news of the twins was said; an invisible lightbulb appeared above his head.
'How quickly an idea, planted, can take root and grow into a plan. The thought conceived in this very room grew as surely as a seed, in a mother's womb.'
Dr. Wonka slowly returned his hands to his lap and stood up before turning away with a thoughtful look on his face only for four words to leave his lips; "give one to me."
Mrs. Bucket stopped wiping her eyes only to turn to the male by her, "what?"
"Give one of them to me." he said, turning to the woman as he contained his excitement to his idea after learning the news of the Bucket twins that were forming inside of the woman before him.
"Give one to you?" Mrs. Bucket repeated just to be sure she wasn't hearing things.
"Yes... yes." Dr. Wonka said, his grin enlarging.
"But you can't just..." Mrs. Bucket started as she took it as almost a joke but couldn't see the funny side of it.
"When are you due?" Dr. Wonka suddenly butted in with a look that Mrs. Bucket couldn't tell between excitement or plain curiosity.
"Erm, well, about..." she stumbled only to shake her head towards the male, "oh, but Dr..." but Dr. Wonka cut her off by taking hold of her shoulders and leaned closer.
"Quickly, quickly, tell me... when are you due?" he repeated his question more sounding like a demand than a question.
Mrs. Bucket stared Dr. Wonka in the eye only to sigh, "November, he said, the beginning of..."
"November... and my assistant doesn't get back until the middle of November. She need never guess." Dr. Wonka grinned like a child on discovering a lucky penny.
"Oh it's mad..." the female sighed as she then took hold of Dr. Wonka's shoulders to hopefully get the point forward.
"I know, it is. It's mad... but it's wonderful, it's perfect. Look look, you're what, four months pregnant, but you're only just begnining to show..." Dr. Wonka started as he moved his hands down to her baby bump and felt where two babies where forming inside only to step away from Mrs. Campball and look around, "so, so I've got a four months pregnant wife who lives in another place in the world and she's only just beginning to show." he suddenly grabbed a random magazine from the table near the window only to flip through pages only to rip out one of the pictures only to place the picture on the table and grabbed a permanent marker from the kitchen, the colour to match the heavenly dress the model was wearing, only to draw a rough expansion on her belly to represent the baby bump and then coloured it heavily to make it look more convincing, the model in the photo honestly looked like she was a little more than four months pregnant but still convincing. "Look, look, she could have got pregnant just before I went away. But she didn't tell me in case she miscarried, she didn't want to worry me whilest I was away. But when my assistant arrives home I tell her we were wrong, the doctors were wrong. I have a baby, our baby. Mrs. Bucket, it will work, it will if only you'll rambled on only for Mrs. Bucket to start speaking again.
"Oh, Dr. Wonka, you can't be serious." she sighed looking at the male with a desperate look that he would just break off the joke already.
"You said youself, you said you had too many children already." Dr. Wonka reminded her of the seven starving at home.
"Yeah, but I don't know if I wanna give one away." she sulked as she felt where her twins were blooming inside.
Dr. Wonka and walked over, the ruined photo still in his hand, "already you're being threatened by the welfare people. Mrs. Bucket, with two more children how can you possibly avoid some of them being put into care? Surely, it's better to give one child to me. Look, at least if the child was with me you'd be able to see him every day, as you came to work." he smiled, showing he was telling the honest truth. The two shared a look until Dr. Wonka slowly became desperate for Mrs. Bucket to agree, "please, Mrs. Bucket, please." he begged with a look in his eye.
"Are you... are you that desperate to have a baby?" Mrs. Bucket asked looking sorry for the dentist.
'Each day I look out from this window,
I see him with his friends,
I hear him call,
I rush down but as I fold my arms around him,
He's gone.
Was he ever there at all?
I've dreamed of all the places I would take him,
The games we'd play, the stories I would tell,
The jokes we'd share, the clothing I would make him,
I reach out.
But as I do.
He fades away.'
Mrs. Bucket looked around at the room she stood in before at Dr. Wonka who gave her a half-smile and a shrug, possibly slightly embarrased at what he's revealed. She sighs as she views the difference of each place from her house to this homely building.
'If my child was raised
In a building like this one,
(He) wouldn't have to worry where
His next meal was coming from.
His clothing would be (supplied by)
George Henry Lee.'
Dr. Wonka finds a smile as he joins by Mrs. Bucket's side.
'He'd have all his own toys
And a garden to play in.'
Mrs. Bucket looked at the male, taking in the information.
'He could make too much noise
Without the neighbours complainin''
The dentist nodded.
'Silvers trays to take meals on'
Mrs. Bucket looked at the male with a quick question on her mind.
'A bike with both wheels on?'
Dr. Wonka nods like a madman with excitement as his plan may actually manage to take root.
'And he'd sleep every night
In a bed of his own.'
Mrs. Bucket started to resee her plan like before she learned about her baby twins.
'He wouldn't get into fights
He'd leave matches alone.
And you'd never find him
Effin' and blindin'.
And when he grew up
He could never be told
To stand and que up
For hours on end at the dole
He'd grow up to be'
Dr. Wonka and Mrs. Bucket then turned to each other.
'A credit to me.'
Mrs. Bucket then cleared her throat.
'To you.'
"I would still be able to see him every day, wouldn't I?" Mrs. Bucket asked.
"Of course." Dr. Wonka agreed in the sweetest voice he could manage in his rich deep voice.
"And... and you would look after him, wouldn't you?" Mrs. Bucket lastly asks.
Dr. Wonka looked into her creamy chocolate eyes with his storm blue eyes and a silent chuckle bounced in his own throat.
'I'd keep him warm in the winter
And cool when it shines.
I'd pull out his splinters
Without making him cry.
I'd always be there
If his dream was a nightmare.
My child.
My child.'
He sighed with a huge smile on his lips only to turn to Mrs. Bucket with the sudden look of urgency, "oh. Now you must help me. There's so much... I'll have to..." he fumbled around until the picture was in his hands, "we'll do this properly so that it's thoroughly convincing and I'll need to see you walk, and baby clothes, I'll have to knit and buy bottles and suffer from piles." he counted with his mind somewhere in the heavens and ignoring the world and time around himself.
"What?" Mrs. Bucket suddenly said as she listened to the male ramble on.
"Doesn't one get piles when one's pregnant? And buy a cot and... oh, help me with this, Mrs. B. Is it in the right place?" he asked only for Mrs. Bucket came over and began to tear out a picture of the dress without the model only to make it into more of a spot shape only to hold it in the right area before helping Dr. Wonka glue it on, "I want it to look right before I go shopping." he admitted.
She flinched as she heard what he had just said only to chuckle and shake her head, "what you going the shops for? I do the shopping." she told him.
"Oh no, from now on I do the shopping, I want everyone to know about my baby." he grinned and turned only to freeze and turn back before looking around until he stopped upon the sighting of something upon a bookshelf which he grabbed. Holding it out before Mrs. Bucket revealed it was a bible, "Mrs. B, we must make this a, erm, a binding agreement."
Mrs. Bucket looked at the bible and then at Dr. Wonka only to reluctantly place her hand on top of the book's cover as if she was in front of a crowd in church.
'In the name of Jesus, the thing was done, now there's no going back, for anyone. It's too late now for feeling torn there's a pact been sealed, there's a deal been born.'
Dr. Wonka finally puts the bible away before examining Mrs. Bucket's posture and attempted to copy it to the best of his ability, to then imagine his "wife" doing it, but nearly toppled over if Mrs. Bucket hadn't touched his shoulder.
"Why... why did we have to do that?" she asked looking worried as if she had just sold her soul to the Devil.
"Mrs. B, nobody must ever know. Therefore we have to have an agreement." Dr. Wonka explained with a thin mouth and half-lidded eyes that brought more of a tense feeling up her back. His joyful look suddenly came back as took one last look at himself in the mirror before smiling at the woman, "right, I shan't be long. Bye." he grinned only to walk away from the room, the sound of the door opening to the outside world and closing could be heard.
Mrs. Bucket remained in the house with her own silence to keep her company. Her hand glided over her bump and she thought she could feel the sweet figures of her sons or daughters or son and daughter being made inside her as each second passes. Just then, her mind wandered off to her own motherly business; what would she call them? Maybe for a boy she could name one Charles and if the other was a boy she always thought a name like Will or William would be a nice pick, but she had no idea for what to name them if they were girls so she hoped they would be boys. Where would she make room for when the time comes or how would things change upon the birthing of two identical or fraternal twins? Then, as she planned her babies' futures, she felt a pang of fear as she remembered what she had done; she had agreed to give one of her beloved babies away once they were in this world. Mrs. Bucket stood there in horror as everything she should've realized came attacking at her. She slowly stepped back until she slipped into a chair and leaned on the table while slipping her head into her hands as memories of what had just happened tore through like ice cold blades. What had she done?
'How swiftly those who've made a pact can come to overlook the fact. Or wish the reckoning to be delayed but a debt is a debt, and must be paid.'
