Christmas on Coronation Street

by Maggie Sullivan

  ‘Congratulations!’ she said as she thrust a glass into Elsie’s hand. It was filled with what looked like water, but Sally gave her a wink. ‘Mrs Walker said I was to give the new mother a double gin.’

  Elsie took the glass, though her hand was shaking. Sipping the gin seemed to steady her nerves, and a moment later Ena Sharples appeared holding what looked like a rolled-up blanket.

  ‘Here,’ she said, ‘I believe she’s yours,’ and she thrust the bundle into Elsie’s arms.

  ‘Linda,’ Elsie cooed. ‘My own little Linda, at last.’ And she stared down at the tiny head and its surprising mop of black hair.

  ‘This is to wet the baby’s head,’ Sally said, and she and Elsie clinked their glasses together.

  Annie Walker wrote in her diary almost every night before she went to bed as she listened to one of her Vivaldi records on the gramophone her darling Jack had bought her. And she wrote a daily letter to Jack too, even though she could never be sure that any of them reached him. In those letters, she poured her heart out to him, saying all the things she never could bring herself to tell him to his face. Like how much she loved him and missed him, and all the things they would do together on his return.

  But for once she was lost for words to describe the events of the day, how that dreadful slut Elsie Tanner had almost given birth on her best carpet and how Ena Sharples had saved the day. Thankfully, none of her Stuart crystal in the display cabinet had been damaged in all the kerfuffle. The couch was probably redeemable, once given a good clean. Only the carpet would have to be replaced.

  She decided not to tell him that their one-year-old son Billy had witnessed everything from his playpen in the hallway. It was to be hoped that his memory of the dreadful things would be lost on a mind so young and be well and truly wiped out once his daddy came home.

  But she couldn’t help but feel a certain pride and satisfaction that it was to her hostelry that the desperate woman had come in her hour of need. Not that any of this would matter once Jack came home from the war. As soon as he returned, they would abandon the Rovers Return and move to a proper, refined public house in the leafy environs of Cheshire, leaving Weatherfield – and the memory of Elsie Tanner’s brat – behind them.

  Chapter 34

  Elsie wondered if she ought to try and contact Arnold. Would he be interested to know about his daughter’s birth? She had not heard from him and thankfully had never received a telegram or any of those dreadful official letters. But now she wondered if perhaps she should try to connect with him once more. She never was good at writing letters and as he hadn’t written to her, she really didn’t know where he was. She didn’t even know if he was on a ship or in a submarine, whether he was out in the Atlantic or the Pacific. Geography never had been her strong point. For all she knew, he could still be stuck in Portsmouth docks. She could probably get the information from somewhere if she tried hard enough, but she wasn’t that bothered. He would find out soon enough, if he ever came home.

  The one person she did want to contact was Fay. And in the days that followed, after spending time at home recovering from the birth, Elsie managed to get word to her about Linda. She wasn’t sure – and she didn’t really care – how her mother would feel about becoming a grandmother, but she knew her sister would be thrilled to know she was an aunt.

  Once the snow had begun to clear she also took a small bunch of flowers to Mrs Sharples at the Mission.

  ‘What’s that for?’ Ena Sharples looked at them suspiciously.

  ‘For helping me and for doing what you did.’ Elsie smiled. She genuinely felt grateful and she hoped Mrs Sharples would be able to see that.

  ‘Don’t think you can get away with anything with a few flowers. I’ll still be charging my regular fee.’ Clearly the older woman was back to her usual surly self.

  ‘I’m not trying to get away with anything. This is just a little extra, that’s all.’ Elsie had never given anyone a present like this before and she was surprised how nice it felt to be giving someone something. It was almost as much fun as it was to receive.

  ‘Can we not bury the hatchet for once and be like proper neighbours?’ she said, wondering if it was having a baby that had made her soft in the head.

  ‘I’ll say thank you, then. And where, may I ask, are you planning on having the christening?’ Ena Sharples said as she took the flowers and stuck them in a jar that was standing on top of the harmonium. ‘Happen you could do worse than to have her christened here at the Mission.’

  Elsie was surprised. Obviously she’d have Linda christened though she wasn’t really religious, but she’d hardly put much thought into it yet and wasn’t sure she wanted Ena Sharples lording it over her and Linda. ‘I don’t know how to go about it, I’m not the church-going type.’

  ‘Maybe you should be for once. What with this war an’ all.’

  Elsie felt the older woman’s glare. ‘Maybe you’re right. I’ll think about it,’ was all she would concede and then she wandered back home, mulling it over.

  Later that day Elsie was among the many residents of Coronation Street who listened to the BBC news on the wireless at the Rovers Return. The new Secretary of State for War, Anthony Eden, told the country solemnly that what people had been calling ‘the phoney war’ was over and that a serious offensive was more than likely on its way. He asked for what he called Local Defence Volunteers to come forward and offer their services to their country. It was to be a new home army to help defend British shores from possible attack. Then he warned of more stringent rationing in the months to come and the difficult times ahead.

  A heavy atmosphere descended on the drinkers as people took his words to heart. There was no more singing and conversation was subdued. Everyone left the pub that night looking more forlorn than ever. Little did they know it wouldn’t be long until the bombing started in earnest.

  It was the day Elsie had chosen for the ceremony that the first air raid hit Weatherfield. Linda Tanner ended up being christened in the basement shelter underneath the Mission of Glad Tidings. The short service had no sooner begun in the chapel upstairs when the air raid siren began to wail. The loud drone of the planes and the distant boom of bombs dropping told the congregants this was no false alarm. Elsie and the others had never heard anything like it and the residents had come streaming out of their houses withshocked white faces, hurriedly pulling on coats and huddling infants into siren suits.

  Elsie clung to her new baby as if there was a bomber immediately overhead. Everyone had put their gas mask on and Mrs Sharples was trying to encourage Elsie to wear hers and to put one on the baby.

  ‘Kenneth Barlow and Billy Walker have put their Mickey Mouse masks on,’ Mrs Sharples said.

  Elsie had been given a huge infant mask that she was supposed to pump air into but she couldn’t imagine try-ing to get her wriggly baby inside of it in an emergency, so she covered her daughter’s head with a blanket and clutched her close to her breast instead. The lay preacher was in the middle of his final blessing when the boom sounded as if it were overhead. The large room was plunged into sudden darkness. Then there was a collective audible gasp followed by individual panic-stricken shrieks as the whole building was shaken to its foundations. Unidentifiable objects fell from the walls and ceiling, people protesting loudly as they were hit. The air was filled with gritty dust that made everyone gasp and cough.

  ‘I can’t see,’ someone called.

  ‘Not surprising as there’s no bloody light,’ someone else retorted.

  ‘No, I mean I can’t open my eyes.’

  Ena Sharples lit up her torch and it soon became plain that it was plaster dust and the powder of fallen masonry that was causing the problem. There was another boom, followed by another, but it was obvious that the planes were now moving away and were dropping their lethal packages elsewhere.

  Finally the all clear sounded and everyone emerged from underground, blinking into the daylight and trying to protect their ears from the whine of
the siren and the fire engine and ambulance bells that filled the air. People were shaken and dishevelled, hair greyed by the cloud of dust that hung over the entire street. There was a strong smell of burning and the sparks and flashes from adjacent streets confirmed that fires were still raging in buildings that had taken a direct hit.

  Elsie hurried home and was surprised to find Fay waiting for her on her doorstep, a small battered suitcase in her hand.

  ‘Thank God you’re all right, I didn’t know what to do.’ Fay rushed up to Elsie and hugged her. ‘And how is this little one?’ She peered inside the folds of blanket that filled Elsie’s arms.

  ‘She’s safe, thank goodness,’ Elsie said. ‘No thanks to them.’ She shook her fist at the sky. ‘But what are you doing, hanging about here at this hour?’

  ‘I’ve come to see my niece,’ Fay said, almost too lightly. ‘Thought I could give you a hand. Though of course I didn’t know about any of this.’

  ‘Well, help is always welcome,’ Elsie said. ‘But let’s go inside. I could murder a cup of tea and I’m sure you could too, so come in and tell me all about …’ Elsie stopped speaking as she opened the front door and ran down the passage, Fay following behind.

  ‘Oh my God, Else,’ Fay said as the two women stood amid a pile of debris.

  It was obvious the building behind the house had been hit, for there was no longer a wall at the back separating her from the neighbouring street. The force of the blast had blown in all the windows. Shattered glass covered the floor of the back room, kitchen and scullery and the unhinged back door was swinging on a single nail. Even the privy had had its roof blown off.

  Elsie wanted to cry. But as she stepped outside she was too shocked to show any emotion, for sticking out from underneath the pile of bricks of what had once been the wall between her house and number 13 were two stocking-clad legs.

  Elsie was pleased Fay decided to stay with her because she didn’t know how she would have managed on her own, clearing up the rubble and fixing as much of the damage as was possible. The whole street was without water or electricity for several days which made things all the harder. And when the body of Madge from next door was finally recovered it made a grim sight and Elsie tried to push the memory of it out of her mind. Somehow with a baby to look after and with Fay alongside her, she just about managed it.

  ‘So tell me, what’s going on in Back Gas Street?’ Elsie said one night when they had settled down and put the baby to bed.

  ‘You’re well away from it all, that’s all I can say.’

  ‘How is everybody?’ Elsie said hesitantly.

  ‘Mam’s the same as ever, I suppose, though she’s not pregnant of course. She never seems to do anything much and then I get cross with her because she says she’s too busy to be bothered going down to the shelter when the siren goes off. And she doesn’t force the kids to go either.’

  ‘And how’s Jack?’ Elsie asked.

  ‘Still missing you, if that’s what you’re asking,’ Fay laughed. ‘Maybe I’ll bring him here to see you.’

  ‘And his new cousin,’ Elsie said, her voice choked.

  ‘But the best news is that Dad’s been roped in to be an ARP warden – can you believe it? Complete with a tin hat!’

  ‘Bloody hell. So is he any different?’ Elsie wanted to know.

  ‘You wouldn’t believe it, but he is. He’s got so many other people to boss around, he leaves us lot alone. And he doesn’t have time to get drunk every night.’

  ‘So the war is good for something,’ Elsie said.

  ‘But that’s not all. I think he must have some kind of fancy woman, because he leaves mam alone completely. She’s not complained about him getting on to her for ages.’

  ‘And you think he’s getting his leg over somewhere?’

  ‘You bet he is.’

  ‘I ask you, who would want anything to do with him?’

  ‘You never know, do you? But then, you fancied Arnold Tanner!’ Fay spluttered with laughter and Elsie stared at her.

  ‘No offence,’ Fay said quickly, ‘but he’s not to everyone’s taste.’

  ‘Good grief, Fay. Since you’ve been working in that office you don’t half talk posh.’

  ‘No I don’t,’ Fay protested, but her cheeks did redden. ‘Anyway, there’s nothing wrong with trying to better yourself. I was trying not to hurt your feelings too much, that’s all.’

  Elsie shook her head in disbelief wondering that anyone could ever say anything about Arnold that would bother her now and changed the subject. ‘How’s the job going? Is it working out?’

  ‘Yes, thanks, it is. The boss is very odd. I think it’s because he’s old. But with Terry there to keep me sane, I’m managing OK.’

  ‘Is Terry your boyfriend now? You know what I mean?’

  ‘Yes, I know. But you could hardly call him that. He’s very cautious and very gentlemanly. He says he doesn’t want to pressure me or put me in an awkward position.’

  ‘Does that mean he hasn’t kissed you?’

  ‘Only on the cheek.’ Fay looked coy.

  ‘How long is it you’ve known him?’ Elsie tried not to let her thoughts show on her face and suppressed a grin.

  ‘That’s not the point. He doesn’t want to rush things. And right now that suits me too.’

  ‘He doesn’t sound like he’s going to set the world on fire?’ Elsie ventured.

  ‘I don’t want anyone who’s going to set the world on fire! We can’t all be like you, chasing trouble. Anyway, not after all that business with Harry. It’s not as if I’m going to marry him.’

  ‘I thought you wanted to get out of Back Gas Street.’

  ‘I do, and that’s why I’m here.’

  ‘You can stay here as long as you want, you know that. But surely, with all your fancy ideas, you want better than this?’

  ‘Aren’t you happy here?’

  Elsie thought about it. ‘Happy as I can be, I suppose. I’ve finally started to have a bit of fun, if you know what I mean. But I don’t know how it will be once Arnold’s back …’

  Chapter 35

  Life somehow carried on for everyone in the street for the next few months but they were anxious days for those whose loved ones were fighting in France, like Annie Walker and Vi Todd. Vi drove the rest of her family mad fretting about her son Jim, while Annie tried not to think about what might be happening to her husband, keeping herself busy pulling pints. The Allies were retreating, their retreat to Dunkirk had trapped thousands of men on the French coast. An armada of all shapes and sizes of boats and ships was sent to rescue the British and French soldiers stranded on the beaches. Fortunately, rain had prevented the Luftwaffe from flying, so despite huge casualties many thousands were evacuated safely and people began to believe Winston Churchill, who was now Prime Minister, when he declared that ‘Britain shall never surrender’.

  Then one night two scruffy-looking soldiers appeared in the bar. Annie looked at their filthy uniforms and mud-streaked faces with distaste and wished she could have ordered them out. She hadn’t recognized Jack, her own husband. But then she suddenly let out a shriek as she rushed out from behind the counter and without thinking threw her arms around him right there in the public bar. She quickly excused her uncharacteristic behaviour and ushered Jack through the curtain and into their private quarters.

  It was Elsie who first realized the other soldier was Jim Todd, the puny youth from number 9. She welcomed him warmly, glad to see he was safe, then shooed him off home where she knew his mother was anxiously awaiting news.

  There was a third soldier who came home with the others that night but Elsie didn’t find out till later that it was George Hardman from number 13. He had gone straight home where he thought his lover was waiting, only to find Ena Sharples, who had taken it upon herself to deliver the news about Madge’s tragic death. He would see no one after that and all Elsie heard through the wall was the sound of sobbing long into the night.

  None of the three me
n stayed long in Coronation Street for their embarkation papers arrived within a few days. When she knew he would soon be off to war again, Elsie opened her arms to Jim Todd once more even though she had sworn she wouldn’t entertain him again. Annie Walker had thoughts of hiding Jack’s papers when she saw them come through the door, but realized it wasn’t worth the penalty she would have to pay. Only George was glad to be going back into the fray to fight.

  Elsie became anxious to go back to work, and encouraged by Winston Churchill’s rousing speech for everyone to do their duty, she signed up for work at the local engineering factory, where Sally and her sister Dot worked, which was now making spare parts for rifles and munitions. Many local factories had gone over to war production and most women were now in work. Ida Barlow offered to take care of Linda along with her little Kenneth, and that suited Elsie very well. She hoped that with two babies to occupy her, Ida would stop fretting so much about her husband Frank.

  The pay was not as good as her last job, but with three breaks on a nine-hour shift Elsie felt it was as good as she could hope for. There was a cheerful atmosphere on the factory floor and, unlike the mill workers, they were allowed to chat as much as they wanted. When she found out she would be working on a bench next to Sally and Dot, Elsie couldn’t wait for her first day in the new job. It was only when she got there she found herself sitting opposite Ena Sharples and her cronies all day as well. But then she discovered the clatter of the machinery made it almost impossible to hear what anyone said, so there was no real chat apart from mouthing and lip-reading. Private conversations had to be saved until later.

  Linda was not a good sleeper but Elsie and Fay managed to settle into a routine. When Elsie was too tired to respond to her daughter in the middle of the night, Fay was happy to attend to the baby’s needs. Fay also didn’t mind babysitting while Elsie went out of an evening. She liked to go to places further afield than the Rovers and would go dancing whenever she got the chance, even if it meant travelling into town. She seemed to come alive in men’s company and sought out those who were offering more than a drink in a pub. Several times she brought a man home with her for a few hours of fun, though she made sure he was gone by morning. She was especially taken with those who could supply her with items like matches and soap that were no longer freely available from the corner shop.