Christmas on Coronation Street

by Maggie Sullivan

  Elsie was carried away with the whole story of the life and loves of the southern belle Scarlett O’Hara and at the end she gasped and sobbed out loud when Rhett Butler announced his intention to leave. She wasn’t even aware that she had grabbed hold of the hand of the person in the next seat when the tension grew too much to bear. It wasn’t until the lights went up and the young man beside her smiled and made a play of putting her hand back in her lap that she realized what she had done. She turned to apologize to him.

  ‘Not a problem,’ he said. ‘My pleasure, in fact.’ And he grinned at her, his blue eyes twinkling. He was wearing the blue uniform of an airman that made his eyes look even bluer and she asked him whether he had liked the film.

  ‘Not really my sort of thing, I must admit,’ he said. ‘I was just killing a few hours. I thought it would cheer me up. But now I’m not so sure. Are you all right?’

  ‘I will be, when I finally calm down,’ Elsie said. ‘I’m a big romantic softy. And I adore Clark Gable, so I’m not really a good judge where the film’s concerned.’

  She struggled to get out of the seat and patted her stomach as she stood up. ‘From the way it was kicking, I think the baby enjoyed it.’ She gave a rueful laugh.

  The man looked down at her belly as if seeing it for the first time. ‘Oh golly,’ he said. ‘Would you like me to see you home?’

  Elsie turned to look at him properly. His fair hair had been clipped very short, to fit under his cap no doubt, and his mouth seemed to be set in a permanent boyish grin. When he made his offer he looked so eager she hardly liked to turn him down.

  ‘It’s quite a long way. We’d have to take a tram,’ she said, giving him the chance to change his mind.

  ‘That’s OK,’ he said. ‘I don’t have to get back to base till late tonight.’

  ‘Then thank you very much,’ Elsie accepted.

  ‘Just show me the way,’ he said, and he offered her his arm.

  Elsie was amazed when they reached Coronation Street that they had found so much to talk about but he was very easy to be with. By the time they reached her front door it was getting quite dark and she was glad she wasn’t on her own.

  He followed her into the house and only hesitated for a moment when she began to climb the stairs. ‘I didn’t mean …’ he began.

  ‘Neither did I,’ Elsie said, ‘but things change.’ And she held out her hand towards him.

  Now that’s more like it, Elsie thought afterwards as they lay side by side sharing a cigarette. I like a strong man who knows what he wants and doesn’t beat about the bush. He’s got a helluva lot more to offer than the skinny little lad from next door. I’ll think of it as my contribution to the war effort, bringing comfort to some poor airman, like what someone else is no doubt bringing to my husband right now. She took a long draw from the cigarette and then stubbed it out, feeling more contented than she had done for ages. She closed her eyes for a moment but then to her delight she felt his hands pulling her towards him and the pleasure began all over again.

  It was a beautiful night with frost beginning to attach to the trees and she would have thought no more of her adventure once he had gone, for she knew no more about him than that his name was Tim. But when she opened the door to finally say goodbye she saw Ena Sharples snap her head in her direction with sudden interest as she trudged her way to the Rovers Return. She was wearing her ARP warden’s helmet and shouted, ‘Get that bloody light off and close the door, you fool,’ before Elsie had pulled the door fully open. It was Tim who quickly stepped back inside and pulled the door shut behind him.

  ‘Bugger!’ Elsie said as she switched out the light. ‘It would have to be the dragon who happened to be walking past,’ and for an extra moment the two of them collapsed with laughter in the dark into each other’s arms.

  Chapter 33

  Elsie had never known what it was to celebrate Christmas. At home, there had been no money to buy presents or do anything special for the kids. So no one at Back Gas Street had ever encouraged her or her siblings to think about it as a special time of year. But this year, when there was the opportunity, Elsie thought she would join in the fun with everyone else. Rumour had it that over New Year there was to be singing and maybe even some dancing at the Rovers with most of the street promising to go.

  The weather was the coldest it had been for years and on New Year’s Eve it began to snow. Elsie wrapped up warm in the new shawl she had bought from the market and a pair of boots that actually fitted her from the charity shop. Despite her anger at Arnold and his absence, the rent, thank goodness, was covered and the fourteen shillings that she got from his navy salary was more than she’d ever had in her life. It didn’t stretch that far after the bills were paid but there was always something left for her to put by each week. She was able to afford little treats and to start filling her wardrobe with clothes – but more importantly, it meant she didn’t have to go back to the factory, which was definitely a freedom worth having.

  The snow was beginning to settle when she came out of the house and the cobbles were so slippery she was terrified of falling. It took her a while, but she made it safely to the Rovers with only the light of the moon to guide her.

  Once inside, despite the blackout, the place looked surprisingly jolly. Tinsel, glittering baubles, paper chains and other homemade decorations had been hung in each of the rooms for Christmas and as Elsie arrived the men were dragging the old piano from the select into the public bar. Her namesake, Elsie Foyle, was preparing to play. Elsie was relieved. At least there wouldn’t be hymns and songs from the Great War, which was all Ena Sharples seemed to know.

  New Year’s Eve had brought out many of the locals and Elsie found herself chatting to a few of her neighbours.

  Mrs Sharples didn’t come into the public bar, preferring instead to stay with her cronies in the snug, but she had positioned her seat in such a way that she could see everything that was going on.

  In her short time at the pub, Elsie was managing to work out what was what and more to the point, who was who. Elsie Foyle ran the local shop and apart from their names, the other thing they had in common was not being backward in coming forward. Mrs Foyle could often be heard loudly berating her husband out the back of the shop or be found singing at the top of her voice to the piano in the Rovers – looked on disapprovingly by Annie Walker, of course.

  Sally Todd did a few shifts at the Rovers and tonight it was so busy, she was barely able to snatch a few words with her friends at the bar. Elsie sat with Vi and Sally’s sister Dot, who worked with Sally over at the factory during the day.

  ‘Who are those old cronies that Ena Sharples is in the snug with? They look like witches around a cauldron.’ Elsie smiled at her own joke.

  Dot laughed along. ‘That’s Minnie Caldwell and Martha Longhurst she’s sat with – more like dragons with all that cigarette smoke billowing around them.’ The girls laughed.

  ‘Ena’s a right interfering old bag,’ Dot continued. ‘Her husband died a couple of years ago and she moved into the mission then. Drives everyone crackers, with her “God’s everywhere” claptrap. It’s especially hard on her two daughters, Madge and Vera. I feel right sorry for them.’

  ‘’Appen I’ve already felt her fiery breath on me collar,’ said Elsie, thinking of their run-ins on the street.

  ‘Now, now, ladies, I do hope you’re not indulging in idle tittle-tattle?’ Annie Walker appeared at the bar, looking at them critically over the top of her nose.

  ‘Evening, Mrs Walker,’ Elsie said, giving the landlady a cheeky smirk.

  ‘I hope you’re not drinking alcohol, Elsie Tanner, I’ve no intention of risking my licence on a young whippersnapper like you. I’d say you were old enough to know better, but that wouldn’t be true, would it?’ Annie eyed Elsie’s bump accusingly. ‘Arnold Tanner left you high and dry has he?’

  ‘High but not dry.’ Elsie took a sip of her lemonade knowing Dot had slipped a shot of gin into it, and raised her gla
ss to the Rovers’ landlady. ‘Anyway, he’s doing ‘is bit for King and Country, saving the likes of you from the Jerrys.’

  Annie looked about to respond when Elsie heard a voice over her shoulder. ‘I hope you’re getting into the festive spirit, ladies. Nothing I like to see more of at this time of year than a group of happy faces and people enjoying themselves.’ It was Jack Todd, Vi’s husband from number 9. Smiling and avuncular he beamed at the trio. He’s full of more than festive spirit Elsie thought, but who was she to care?

  ‘Annie, give all the girls a sherry on me.’ That’s more like it, thought Elsie.

  Annie’s face was like thunder, but she beckoned Sally over and instructed her to pour the girls a drink, though Elsie only got a fingerful. Grateful for the kind gesture all the same and settling in to listen to Mrs Foyle raise her voice and exhort the whole pub to jig along to ‘Hands, Knees and Boomps-A-Daisy,’ the girls laughed and wished each other, and Annie, a Happy New Year.

  Later, as the clock struck midnight, Elsie thought of Arnold and what he might be doing. Got ’is hands up some woman’s skirt, no doubt, she thought. She thought briefly of Stan too but she wasn’t one to dwell on the past. She downed another couple of glasses of gin out of sight of Annie Walker and sang along lustily with everyone else.

  She was still feeling merry as she walked home with Vi, Sally and Dot after closing time and stopped to admire the Christmas-card scene that greeted them as they stepped out of the pub. The snow had continued to fall all evening and theirs were the first footprints to break up the perfect white sheet that covered the pavement and the road. It looked so smooth it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began. Elsie was glad of her new boots but still had to walk carefully as she tried to pick her way through the snow. Her progress was very slow, so it hardly mattered when Sally stopped to scoop up a snowball in her hand and to throw it playfully at her mother.

  ‘Here, you cheeky monkey!’ Vi laughed, ‘And here’s one for you.’ And she picked up a handful of snow and threw one back.

  Elsie bent down to make her own snowball but then had to stand up quickly as she felt very unsteady on the slippery surface. She let the snow slip through her fingers before she had time to roll it into an effective weapon. Feeling a spasm grip her, she put a protective hand across her back.

  ‘Be careful how you go, Elsie. Are you all right, love?’ Sally came and slid her arm round her. Elsie clasped hold of the other girl’s hand gratefully.

  ‘Thanks, chuck,’ she said. ‘I feel like an old woman in this state.’ And they all laughed.

  ‘Not for much longer,’ Vi said.

  Sally continued to support her as they set off down the street, eagerly chattering about their neighbours who lived in each of the houses they passed.

  ‘It’s a pity our Jimmy didn’t make it on leave,’ Vi sighed. ‘I was so looking forward to seeing him again.’

  Elsie made no comment, for she wasn’t sure how much Vi knew. ‘I see George made it home on leave though,’ she said as they passed number 13. ‘I saw him going in there this morning.’

  Vi and Sally both stopped. They looked at each other. ‘Are you sure?’ Vi said. ‘Because, as I understand it, May has taken the baby and they’ve gone away.’

  ‘I’m positive,’ Elsie said, truth suddenly dawning.

  ‘Madge didn’t go,’ Sally said. ‘You know, May’s sister. I’d heard she stayed behind.’

  ‘Aye, I believe she did,’ Vi said thoughtfully. They looked at the house but it was in complete darkness with no telltale lights to give anything away. Elsie could only think of the strange noises she had heard throughout the day and all four women exchanged knowing glances.

  The cold weather got worse and the snow fell again several more times as the new year of 1940 began. Not a very happy new year, now that it was clear that the war had not ended at Christmas. People had started calling it a phoney war though it was reported that there had been ships lost in the North Sea and the Western approaches. Elsie wondered if that was where Arnold was and fretted about the regular income she might lose if he was lost at sea. She felt a pang of guilt then, not for Arnold but for his mother who would be losing a son. Amy Tanner had been good to her and would be able to see right through any ‘saintly wife’ picture Elsie tried to paint.

  No, this was a year when the immediate prospects were not looking very bright on any front. It was the coldest it had been for years, people said, and Elsie was glad she didn’t have to go far from the house. She lit a fire most mornings and wrapped up with all the clothes she could find, including Arnold’s oversized dressing gown. She only went out to Elsie Foyle’s shop when she ran out of food, for she was finding it uncomfortable to walk any distance. She was pleased when Vi or Sally popped in, for they were the friendliest faces she saw most days. She caught only a brief glimpse of her neighbours on the other side when she saw Madge and George go by, for there was no sign of May or the screaming baby.

  No one had asked her what she intended to do about the birth of her baby and she had to admit she hadn’t given it much thought. She’d got so used to her mother dropping one each time with people around to help, that she felt confident she would too. She assumed Vi, or Sally, or someone would be on hand to help her when the time came. Ida Barlow had told her how she had been home alone counting the buttons on her new gas stove when she’d gone into labour and that Ena Sharples had delivered her son, called Kenneth. It didn’t occur to Elsie that she too might be alone when the time came and wondered who would be on hand to help her. She didn’t have any of her younger siblings to act as messengers. So it was only when she was taken by surprise by the first twinges of real discomfort and her cry of pain echoed in the empty house that it hit her she was all alone.

  Knowing how much she could hear of her neighbours’ goings on through the thin walls on either side, she tried shouting and knocking on the wall. But as the pain grew worse her voice grew weaker and she began to panic that no one was home.

  She heaved herself out of the chair, the fire having long since gone out. She wrapped Arnold’s old dressing gown round her as best she could and staggered to the door. Someone must be about who could help her. But there was no one on the street.

  The pains were becoming really severe and as far as she could tell they were following each other very fast. She tried to take deep breaths as the midwife had always told her mam to do, but it didn’t seem to make much difference to the pain and she didn’t know what else to try. She was more frightened than she had ever been in her life. And more alone. She needed help, and she didn’t care how she had to beg or where it came from. She stepped into her boots, not bothering with her stockings as she couldn’t roll them on. Then she waddled out as fast as she could into the freezing morning, remembering at the last moment to grab her keys. The pavement had mucky, well-trodden trails of footprints that had been covered by a sprinkling of fresh snow. While on the road there was sight of some of the cobbles through the well-impacted tyre tracks and it looked as if they would be dangerous to walk on. But she couldn’t worry about that right now. She had to keep going. She wasn’t sure where she was heading in her desperation but the next thing she knew she was standing in front of the Rovers Return.

  She yanked open the door with all her remaining strength and almost fell into the public bar. The smell of beer fumes made her want to be sick but she could hear the buzz of conversation so there must be people in there who could do something for her.

  ‘Help!’ she cried as loudly as she could. ‘Someone help me, please.’ Her voice was warbling as she slipped down on to the floor. She was aware of a moment of shocked silence then everyone must have started talking at once. The next thing she knew, strong hands were lifting her and half dragging, half helping her to walk through a curtain and behind two heavy doors to a place she’d never seen before. She thought she heard someone screaming and Mrs Walker’s voice trilling, ‘She can’t come in here!’

  But then the voice she dread
ed most of all shouted, ‘Let me through. I’m the only bloody midwife round here. And if you think she can’t come in then tell me what other bloody place she can go.’

  ‘Upstairs,’ Annie Walker said. But Mrs Sharples only laughed. ‘Not right now she can’t.’

  Elsie knew she was right for she felt the sudden wetness between her legs.

  ‘Her bloody waters have broke, haven’t they,’ Mrs Sharples said.

  Elsie heard Annie Walker moan, ‘Oh no, my lovely new carpet. What am I to do now?’

  ‘Someone get a mop or something to clear up this mess from the floor,’ roared Ena Sharples. ‘And while you’re at it, get a blanket for that there couch and let’s be getting on with it.’

  In between contractions Elsie looked around and tried to make sense of what was going on. She saw Annie Walker quickly removing the well-plumped cushions from the couch, shuffling the other people in the bar out of the way and then watched in horror as her arch enemy Mrs Sharples took her coat off and rolled her sleeves up.

  ‘Not her!’ Elsie screeched. ‘I’ll not be having the likes of her near me.’ And she pointed to the woman she called the Wicked Witch.

  ‘You’ll have to put up with me, I’m afraid,’ Mrs Sharples said, ‘so shut your gob and let the experts do what they need to do.’ Then with a half-smile she made as if she intended to walk away. ‘Unless you want to deliver it yourself?’

  At that moment Elsie was hit by another wave of pain. ‘No!’ she screamed. ‘Don’t leave me.’ She began to sob. Then she grasped hold of the bib-front of Mrs Sharples’ dress. ‘I’m so afraid,’ she whispered.

  ‘Nowt to be scared of,’ Ena Sharples said firmly, taking over. ‘Now let’s be having you. I need to see what we have here.’ Elsie had no choice but to obey.

  It was some time later when Sally’s friendly face appeared in front of her. She was smiling and laughing in her usual bubbly way.