by Pat Posner
“You should wear thick socks over your boots,” Gloria told her. “That helps a bit.”
“It’s lucky the young ones don’t seem to worry about slipping over,” said Phyllis. “I felt green with envy watching them dashing off down Blakeley Road with their sledges.”
“I reckon they’ll be coming back soon with whatever they’ve collected,” said Pearl. “I’ll make us a cuppa while we wait.”
“Gosh, yes.” Phyllis gasped. “I forget to say your Alf said he was gasping for one, Pearl. He’s just lighting that brazier thing. Don’t know if you’ll be able to use your dustbin for rubbish after, though. He’s made a good few holes in it.”
“Knowing Alf, he’ll find a way of patching it up.” Pearl put the kettle to boil and reached for the tea caddy. “It’ll be an apology for tea,” she said. “I’m running short.”
Rob, Jimmy, and Gloria’s brother, Bernard, came in through the back door at that moment. Grinning, Rob handed Pearl a packet of tea. “It’s from Betty Jones, Mum. She reckoned a few would come round and help and said you’d need it. She sent some turnips and swedes as well and she’ll pop round soon.”
Bernard and Jimmy put the turnips and swedes and other vegetables they’d collected in the sink. “Almost everybody from this end of Blakeley Road has given something. And there’s some oxtail from Graham Stevenson’s mum,” said Bernard. “It’s already cooked, she was going to make soup with it. Graham’s gone off with the girls to collect from the far end of Blakeley Road.”
“Has anyone been to Nana Connie’s yet, Rob?” Pearl asked.
“Yes, she let us fetch some coke out of the shed. I gave that to Dad on our way in. It were funny though, Mum, when we got to Nana Connie’s all the curtains were shut—”
“She probably reckons it’ll help keep out the cold a bit,” said Pearl.
“And the doors were all locked so we had to knock,” Rob continued. “We knocked on the back one first and nothing happened. I was getting right worried. So we hurried round and knocked on the front door. When Nana Connie opened it, she didn’t let us in and—”
“We could smell cigarette smoke,” said Jimmy. “Like it smells on the upstairs of a bus. So,” he added gleefully, “now we know Nana Connie or maybe old Auntie Flo is a secret cigarette smoker. Just wait ’til one of them tells Dad off for having a puff of his pipe and says smoking’s not good, that’s all.”
“That’s enough, Jimmy. Any more disrespectful talk and you won’t get any hotpot,” said Pearl.
“Come on, Jimbo.” Rob grabbed his young brother’s arm. “You, me and Bernard best go and see if the girls need help pulling the sledges.”
Gloria and Phyllis set to sorting and peeling the vegetables while Pearl made the tea. “It’s not like Mam or my auntie Flo to be two-faced about anything,” she said. “I can’t think that either of them was smoking. Mam’s always said she couldn’t bear the taste or smell. I bet she’s got the old paraffin stove going. That pongs a bit and it’s likely she didn’t invite the lads inside in case they knocked it over.”
“That prisoner what escaped a week ago is still on the loose,” said Gloria as she scooped out a couple of eyes from a potato. “I remember it said in the newspaper it was thought he might make for Manchester where his family live. We’re not that far from Manchester.”
“What are you on about, Gloria?” asked Phyllis. “What’s that got to do with Mrs Stone and Pearl’s aunt smoking or not smoking?”
“You don’t think the prisoner might’ve been hiding out in Broome Park and as the weather got worse and worse he wanted somewhere indoors? I mean Pearl’s mum’s garden backs right onto Broome Park just like some of the gardens on Knott Lane do. He might have got inside and warned Mrs Stone and Flo not to let on. He could have been smoking when the boys called round and—”
“Honestly, Gloria. You take the biscuit with your imagining, you really do,” said Pearl. “I recall Maisie Butterworth telling me a few weeks ago how you once thought someone had a kidnapped girl hidden in the prefab opposite hers and yours.”
Gloria grinned. “So I got that wrong. But I’ve been right about one or two things, remember.”
“Yes, you do seem to have a knack for scenting out or getting involved in nasty goings on,” Pearl agreed as she poured out the tea. “Right, I’ll take Alf’s out to him and check if the brazier’s hot enough for cooking on yet.”
There were two others standing with Alf by his outdoor cooking stove. One was Ken Boyce - the prefab village’s policeman and, to Pearl’s delight, the other was the milkman with a huge sledge which had milk crates tied onto it.
“You deserve a medal for delivering in this weather,” Pearl told him.
The milkman nodded. “When I delivered along Broome Avenue, your mum said the same, Mrs Cole. And you know what? I reckon she’s stocking up for a siege. I mean there’s only her and her sister but she had six pints off me, plus three bottles of orange juice.”
Neither her mam nor her aunt drank orange juice. Pearl searched her mind for a plausible explanation. It couldn’t be that Mam was going to put on a party for her on Monday. Mam might be making a birthday cake but she certainly didn’t hold with surprise parties.
Filled with unease she looked up at Ken Boyce. “Is that prisoner who escaped a week or so back still on the loose?”
“Why are you asking, Pearl?”
“Mam getting all that extra milk and buying orange juice what she and Auntie Flo never drink and they don’t smoke, neither. Yet Jimbo and Rob said they smelled cigarette smoke when they went round earlier.”
The police constable looked worried. “I think I’d best go and check on your mother and aunt. I’ll call in home first and phone for back-up, but it could take a while for them to get here. Snow drifts have blocked part of the main road.”
“You’re not waiting for anyone,” Alf said. “I’ll come with you.”
“Me, an’ all,” said the milkman.
“And I’m not hanging around here when Mam and Auntie Flo might be in danger,” said Pearl.
But P.C. Boyce shook his head. “You must stay put, Mrs Cole. But you’ll be able to hear my police whistle from here. I promise I’ll blow it the second it’s safe for you to come round.”
“Do as he says, Bead,” Alf said, giving her a big hug. “Keep the home fire burning ’til we come home,” he added, pointing to the glowing dustbin.
His voice had wavered on the forced joke and Pearl knowing that, really, he was worried out of his mind, nodded unwillingly. “Be careful and stay safe,” she whispered.
The three men were almost out of sight when Gloria and Phyllis came out to see what was taking Pearl so long.
“Well, we’ve put everything we’ve got so far into the big saucepan along with a couple of Oxo cubes we found in your cupboard,” Gloria said after Pearl had told her two friends what was happening. “I’ll fetch it out and the hotpot can start getting cooked.”
Phyllis nodded. “We can always cook any extra veg the kiddies bring back inside and put them in the big pan afterwards,” she said, squeezing Pearl’s arm.
Almost as soon as Phyllis had finished speaking, they saw and heard Rob and the six others coming along from the far end of Blakeley Road. “If they keep that noise up I’ll never hear the police whistle,” said Pearl. “How can I tell them to be quiet without telling them why?”
“I’ve got some cocoa powder and…” Phyllis pointed to the milkman’s sledge. “We’ve got milk. I’ll take them all into mine for a hot drink, Pearl. I’ll see to whatever food they’ve brought as well.”
“And I’ll take charge of this,” said Gloria, arriving with the big saucepan in time to hear Phyllis’s words.
Pearl nodded and, in spite of the freezing weather, pulled down the hood of her siren suit. No way was she going to chance missing the signal from P.C. Boyce.
It seemed an awful long time before she heard the welcome sound of the police whistle…
*
&n
bsp; “I still can’t believe it,” said Pearl. “I really can’t.” Three hours had passed since, skidding and sliding, she’d gone as fast as she could to Broome Avenue.
Now, with portions of hotpot delivered to the villagers who couldn’t fetch their own, the others, plus the milkman, were standing around Alf’s outdoor cooking stove – eating and chatting happily – while Pearl gazed at her sister and brother-in-law.
They’d arrived in England a couple of days before the big freeze had started, and booked in at a Manchester hotel. Their original plan had been to come to Broome Park village on the morning of the shared birthday. But then with the weather turning and getting worse all the time, they’d set out yesterday morning and, Pearl couldn’t imagine how, had managed to get to Broome Avenue last night.
Ruby laughed. “We weren’t going to come all the way from America so you and I could be together on our birthday and then not make it in time because of a bit of snow and ice.”
“But,” Walter said in his attractive drawl, “once we’d got to your Ma’s, Ruby was determined you wouldn’t find out we were here until Monday.”
“And you wouldn’t have done, either,” said Ruby. “If,” she added indignantly, “you hadn’t thought that Mam and Auntie Flo were harbouring an escaped prisoner.” She giggled and glanced at Walt. “One who smokes Pall Mall cigarettes.”
“Still, better safe than sorry,” said Gloria. “And hearing all the ins and outs has certainly taken everyone’s mind off the weather.”
“My mind’s back on the weather,” said Rob. “That is, it’s back on other thing what happens when it’s freezing cold. We haven’t taken anyone to see the icicles over the inside of our front door yet.”
“Oh, yes,” Babs shrieked. “Can we take Bernard and everyone in and show them, Mum? Then we can claim the prize for having the biggest one.”
Pearl smiled and nodded. Having Ruby here made her feel as if she’d got a special prize of her own.
Secrets
Connie Stone poured herself a cup of tea and sat down to read the letter from her best friend back in Liverpool. Always wrote a nice newsy letter, did Mabel.
But this time, Connie realised as she got half-way down the letter, Mabel’s news was a problem in the making:
I know your prefab’s only got two bedrooms and you and Flo have one each. But I was wondering if you’d fancy a lodger for a couple of months or, happen, more. I’m made up they’re going to put a bathroom and inside lavvy in, Connie, they’ll be starting on it in about six weeks. I can’t stop here while the work’s going on and there’s no room for me at my son and daughter-in-law’s.
You told me the bedrooms are a fair size and it wouldn’t be the first time you and me had shared a home and a bedroom, would it?
“That was almost forty years ago, during the First World War,” murmured Connie. “And Flo didn’t come into the equation then.”
And, heck. Here was Flo now. Connie folded the letter and shoved it in her pinafore pocket just as her sister hurried in looking anxious.
“Was that the postman I heard while I was in the bath, Connie?”
“Paper boy delivering the Saturday Gazette most likely,” said Connie.
She pointed to the unopened newspaper thinking how lucky that it had been delivered almost at the same time as the post. There’d only been the one letter and she didn’t want to mention that to Flo yet.
“Oh, right.” Flo pursed her lips and nodded.
“You look disappointed, Flo. Are you expecting a letter?”
“No, not really.” Flo put her hands around the teapot. “Gone cold. I’ll make a fresh one.”
Connie watched her walk over to fill the kettle. Flo didn’t seem her usual self. Come to think of it she’d been a bit quiet this last week or two.
Sam Noble hadn’t been calling round much, either. He and Flo had become friendly last Christmas time and since then they’d been going to tea dances and having days out together. But Sam hadn’t been a large part of Flo’s chatter recently.
“An Alligator Named Daisy is on at the pictures, Flo. Donald Sinden’s in it, you like him, don’t you? D’you fancy going to see it this evening?”
“Sam and I thought we’d go and see it. Diana Dors is in it, too. Sam, being a fella, likes her. You could come with us, Connie.”
“No thank you. Two’s company and three’s a crowd,” said Connie, glad Flo and Sam were obviously still friends.
“Three being a crowd’s when the couple’s a young courting couple. Not when they’re Twerlies.”
Connie smiled at the Liverpool word for those getting on in years. “Twerlies or not; three’s still one too many, Flo.”
Actually, Connie was relieved on two more counts. One, she hadn’t really wanted to go to the pictures but had thought it would cheer Flo up if she was feeling a bit down. And, secondly, being in on her own would give her a chance to write back to Mabel.
That’s if she could come up with a good excuse for not having her friend to stay. She could do with talking it over with someone.
“Don’t pour me another cuppa, Flo. I’m going to pop round to see Pearl and the grand-kiddies. I’m longing to hear if Rob’s got a place as an apprentice painter and decorator. I can’t get over him being old enough to work in a month or so. He’s still wet behind the ears, bless him.”
*
Connie’s probably going to show Pearl that letter I’m sure I saw her slipping into her pinny pocket, Flo mused, watching through the kitchen window as her sister hurried down the path. I wonder why she didn’t want me to know about it.
Well, she wasn’t the only one keeping secrets, was she! Shrugging, Flo poured a cup of tea and went to sit down.
The secret she was keeping – hers and Sam’s – had been hiding in her heart for a while now. She still couldn’t believe she’d been so impulsive that day. And as for dear Sam’s reaction…
Hugging the memory to her, Flo smiled. Fancy this happening to them at their age. But really it was their age causing a problem. And, although she didn’t want to keep things hidden from others, until they could find a way around the problem, the secret had to remain between her and Sam.
Hearing a light tap on the window she looked up. Her heart beat faster when she saw Sam’s smiling face; it were as though thinking about him had conjured him up.
“Come in,” she called and pointed to the door. Then, telling herself she was acting like a soft young lass, she ran her hands over her hair and jumped up.
“I saw Connie walking past and guessed she was going to Pearl’s,” he said.
Flo nodded. Pearl’s prefab was next-door-but-one to where Sam lived with his son and family.
“So,” Sam continued, “I thought it was a good chance for us to be alone together. See, there’s summat bothering me, Flo, love.”
“Come and sit down and tell me,” she said. But a shadow had crossed her heart. Maybe Sam was having second thoughts about…
“It’s Keith and Ellen,” said Sam, tugging at one ear the way he always did when he was worried.
Briefly, Flo was relieved to hear it was Sam’s son and daughter-in-law causing his worry. Then scolding herself for her selfishness she asked, “How do you mean, Sam. Is one of them ill?”
“I don’t reckon that’s it. But either they act over-bright when they speak to me or they start to say something and then seem to change what they’d been going to say. And I saw Keith signing a bit of paper which he tucked inside his newspaper right quick when he noticed I was in the room.”
“You know, Sam, earlier on I saw Connie slip something into her pinny pocket and I had a feeling it was a letter she didn’t want me to know about.”
Flo thought for a moment. “Do you think we’re imagining things because we know we’re keeping a secret from them and feel guilty about it?”
“I don’t know, love. Could be that I suppose. And if it is, maybe we should come clean and tell them.”
“We said we’d wait until w
e’ve solved our big problem, Sam. And I don’t know if we can solve it. Not the way we want to, anyroads.”
“Put the kettle on and make us a cuppa, Flo, and we’ll have a bit of a think.”
Flo did as he suggested though she didn’t reckon – how ever much they thought – they’d come up with an answer that wouldn’t cause hurt and worry for Connie and Sam’s family.
*
“See, Pearl,” Connie said to her daughter as they sat in Pearl’s living room drinking a cup of tea, “like you know, Mabel’s been my best friend since we were Rob’s age.
“Been through a lot together, we have. It will really upset her if I don’t write back and tell her she’d be more than welcome to stay a while. But…”
“Auntie Flo isn’t that keen on Mabel.” Pearl nodded. “I remember how she steered clear of her at any parties or outings we had.”
“I don’t know why,” Connie said. “I asked Flo once and she said it wasn’t that she really disliked Mabel, she just couldn’t take to her so it was best not to spend long in her company.”
“So you’re faced with either upsetting Mabel if you don’t ask her to stay or upsetting Flo if you do.”
“Flo has seemed a bit down about something this last couple of weeks as well,” said Connie.
“She looked right miserable when I saw her the other day,” Rob said. He, and his sister, Babs, had just brought in some biscuits and slices of cake. “She must have been to pay the rent because she was coming out of the Housing Office.”
Puzzled, Connie gazed at her grandson. “It couldn’t have been Flo. The rent man comes round collecting the rent. And what were you doing in that neck of the woods anyway, Rob?”
“Painting a shop door over the road from the Housing Office place. Well, it was my boss-to-be doing the painting. I was watching to see how it should be done. Learning a bit before I start on as his apprentice. And Dad said I could paint the shed door. I better go and a bit of practise in right now.
“But it was Auntie Flo I saw, Nana Connie,” he said as he walked towards the living room door. “She didn’t see me, though.”
