by Nancy Revell
Everyone laughed.
‘Well, I don’t think you’ll ever get that here, certainly not when we have our very own female Laurel and Hardy as part of the squad.’
Angie tutted at the comparison. ‘Why do I think I’d be the skinny one that’s always scratching his head ’n being bullied by the fat one?’
Dorothy jumped down off the crate and pulled out an old jumper she’d found in the shed and used to create Churchill’s substantial girth.
‘I don’t bully you, Ange. Do I?’ She looked around the women for support and was met with a silent show of solidarity for Angie.
‘Talking of which,’ Rosie looked at Angie, who was taking off her headscarf and tucking her blonde hair behind her ears, ‘has Dorothy managed to coerce you into moving yet?’
Angie opened her mouth to speak, but Dorothy beat her to it.
‘I wish! I’ve never known anyone to procrastinate so much in my entire life.’
‘Speak English, Dor!’ Angie demanded.
‘Put off … dither!’ Dorothy sounded genuinely exasperated.
‘But I thought you were going to tell yer mam and dad over the weekend, Angie?’ Gloria asked as she took a seat on what had been Dorothy’s soapbox.
‘I was, but Mam had to do more overtime, so I still haven’t managed to get them together.’
‘Why don’t you tell your mam first,’ Gloria suggested. ‘But tell her not to let on she knows – then you tell your da. That way your dad still thinks he’s the big man and head of the house, but your mam is happy because you’ve actually told her first.’
‘Bloomin’ good idea, Glor!’ Angie said.
‘Yes,’ Dorothy was nodding enthusiastically, ‘and that way everyone’s happy and you manage to keep the peace – and then we can finally move in!’
‘Eee, I could learn a lot from you lot!’ Bel said. She and Polly were now sitting on top of a pile of wooden pallets.
Rosie laughed. ‘Yes, the wily woman’s art of manipulation.’
‘You better get a move on, Angie,’ Gloria piped up, ‘otherwise George might rent his flat out to someone else.’
A look of panic shot across Dorothy’s face and she looked to Rosie, who gave her the reassurance she was looking for with a quick shake of her head.
‘So,’ Hannah said, looking over at Bel, who was drinking her tea and nibbling on a corned-beef sandwich. ‘How’s life in administration?’
‘Yes, all good, thanks, Hannah. I can now type using all my fingers, but I’m still pretty slow.’
‘And what about Helen?’ Martha asked. ‘She giving you any hassle?’
‘No, no hassle,’ Bel chuckled, although she didn’t think she would tell them if she was being picked on as she seriously believed they would lynch Helen if she was anything but nice to her. The sunny weather might be making everyone feel a bit chirpier but none of the women had warmed at all towards their nemesis. Apart from Gloria, of course, who had told Bel when they had been on their own that she really didn’t think Helen was as bad as everyone made out.
‘To be honest,’ Bel added, ‘I’ve not really seen her giving anyone any hassle. I mean, she’s not exactly the friendliest boss you could ask for. She’s ever so curt when she’s speaking to Marie-Anne, but I’ve not heard her really sound off at anyone.’
Bel had, in fact, been keeping a sharp eye out whenever Helen came out of her office. She was intrigued by her, which, she realised, wasn’t so surprising. The two of them were, after all, related. Not that anyone would ever have guessed. Although having seen Miriam, it would not take such a great leap of faith to believe that Bel was related to Helen’s ma. When she had seen her that afternoon in the Grand it had been like looking at an older version of herself, twenty years from now.
‘Helen’s probably all taken up with that toffee-nosed fella we’ve seen her with,’ Angie said, biting into a slightly bruised apple.
‘Oh, I don’t reckon she’s still with him.’ The words were out before Gloria had time to swallow them.
‘What makes you say that?’ Polly asked. She still wanted to know everything about Helen, even though just talking about her made her angry.
‘I’m just guessing,’ Gloria said, quickly trying to cover her tracks, ‘as our two eagle-eyed socialites here haven’t seen her on the town for months now.’
‘Miss Not-so-prim-and-proper and her Prince Charming have probably just had their fill of slumming it,’ Dorothy said.
‘Yeh, they probably go to the Palatine or the Empress or somewhere like that now.’
‘Anyway, talking of going out,’ Bel said, ‘I actually came over for a reason.’
Everyone looked at Bel in her colourful dress. She stood out like a sore thumb amongst the dirt-smeared grey and blue denim.
‘It’s Lucille’s fourth birthday a week on Saturday, so she’s going to have a little tea party with a few of her friends from around the doors and I wondered if you wanted to come along near the end and we could all go for a drink in the Tatham?’ Bel looked at Gloria. ‘And I do believe there’s a very special little girl going to be one year old on the Thursday before, so I wondered if we should perhaps have a joint celebration?’
‘That sounds like a marvellous idea,’ Gloria said. ‘Are you sure Lucille won’t mind sharing her special day?’
‘No, I’ve checked with Her Highness,’ Bel laughed, ‘and she said in that very grown-up way of hers that she wouldn’t mind at all.’
‘Ah, I’m afraid I won’t be able to make it, Bel. I’m going to see Charlotte in Harrogate that weekend,’ Rosie said. She grimaced slightly. ‘God help me.’
‘That bad?’ Bel asked.
Rosie nodded. ‘Honestly, she’d try the patience of a saint at the moment.’
Dorothy opened her mouth to speak.
‘Don’t, Dorothy, don’t say it. If another person tells me to just “let her come home” one more time, I might just scream.’
Bel stood up and dusted her dress of crumbs. ‘Hannah, can you tell your aunty Rina that I’ll be popping by sometime over the weekend to see if she and Vera can sort out a birthday cake, but please tell her there’s to be no special discount … Anyway, I best be getting back. Don’t want to be seen as a slacker.’ She picked up her flask and lunch box. ‘See you all later.’
As Gloria watched Bel head back to the administration offices, she saw Helen looking out the window. Her face looked stony-serious, or was that just her imagination?
It had been a week now since she had gone to try and stop Helen from ending her pregnancy. She had no idea how she was. Helen hadn’t come round to the flat, which, she guessed, was because she was tired and recovering. Still, there hadn’t been a day gone by this past week that Gloria hadn’t cursed herself for not getting to the hospital just a few minutes earlier. If she had, she might have been able to stop her. But now she’d never know.
Those few minutes, Gloria knew, would always plague her. ‘You all right?’
Gloria’s thoughts were broken by Rosie, who had been watching her workmate looking over at the main admin building.
‘Yes, yes,’ Gloria said. ‘Just in a daze. It’s this weather. Makes you feel half asleep sometimes.’
‘You don’t mind taking over the reins while I’m off seeing Charlotte, do you?’ Rosie asked.
‘Course not,’ Gloria said. ‘You gonna finally tell her you’ve got married?’
Rosie nodded. ‘I wish I hadn’t put it off. Wish I’d just bitten the bullet and told her when I saw her last. Or even just written to her right afterwards.’
Gloria looked at Rosie’s worried face.
‘She’s gonna give you hell, you know?’
‘I know,’ Rosie said.
‘And she’ll use it as leverage to come back here,’ Gloria added.
‘I know,’ Rosie said for the second time.
When the klaxon sounded out and they all made their way back over to Brutus, Dorothy caught up with Gloria and nudged her gently.
‘Thanks, Glor.’
‘What for?’
‘For your suggestion.’
‘About Angie telling her mam first and then her dad?’ Dorothy nodded.
‘I’m guessing this is a big move for Angie. What’s that word you used?’
‘Procrastinate?’
‘That’s the one. Delaying tactics. You do think she wants to move, don’t you?’ Dorothy was quiet for a moment.
‘Yes, I’m pretty sure she’s up for it. I honestly think she’s just worried about upsetting her mam and dad. Angie might seem like a right toughie, but when it comes to her family, she’s really soft. And it’s not helped by Liz running off to join the lumberjills.’
Gloria laughed. ‘You make it sound like she eloped.’ ‘Might as well have,’ Dorothy said in all seriousness. ‘It’s had the same effect. Left Angie with all the responsibility. I could strangle that mother of hers. She just flits about doing exactly what she wants – and Angie has to cover for her.’
‘What do you mean, cover for her?’ Gloria asked. Dorothy didn’t say anything, but raised her eyebrows. ‘Well, let’s put it this way,’ she dropped her voice. ‘I don’t think her mam’s always doing the overtime she claims to be doing.’
Gloria’s eyes widened.
So, Angie did know about her mam’s affair.
‘But, for goodness’ sake, Glor, don’t breathe a word,’
Dorothy begged.
‘Course, I won’t,’ Gloria said.
‘Not a whisper?’ Dorothy said.
‘Not a dicky bird,’ Gloria reassured. ‘I’m a woman of my word.’
Gloria sighed inwardly.
Sometimes, life would be easier if she wasn’t.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Four days later
Saturday 8 August
‘I did it!’ Angie was walking down the top of Foyle Street with a heavy overnight bag banging against her legs. She was still in her work overalls, but her shoulder-length blonde hair had been freed from its headscarf.
Dorothy was waving, but took a step back so that Angie could see that George was also with her outside the flat.
George held out his hand to Angie. ‘Well, whatever you did, it sounds like it was a good thing!’
‘Aye, it was, sir. A very good thing.’ Angie shook hands with George.
‘No need for the sir, “George” is just fine by me … Right, well, you’ve seen the flat before, so there’s no need for me to come in and show you around.’ He fumbled in his pocket. ‘So, here’s two sets of keys. One for you, Dorothy. And one for you, Angela. The smaller of the two is for the main entrance.’ George looked up at the black front door framed by two narrow stone pillars. ‘And the large one is for the actual door to the flat.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ Angie said. Her face was flushed from having hauled her heavy bag across town.
‘Thank you, George.’ Dorothy paused. ‘Are you sure you don’t want any rent now? Upfront. In advance.’
‘No, I shall pop around at six o’clock next Friday for the rent and will do so every week thereafter. If you’re working overtime, just tell Rosie and I’ll come later, or on Saturday at a time that suits.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ Angie said.
George suppressed a chuckle. Rosie had told him about the youngest of her crew and how she insisted on calling her ‘miss’, no matter how many times she’d told her it wasn’t necessary.
‘And if for whatever reason it does not suit you both and you decide to vacate the property, just tell me.’
‘No, I’m sure we’re going to be more than happy here,’ Dorothy said, nudging Angie.
‘Oh, definitely. More than happy,’ Angie said, copying Dorothy.
‘Righty-ho then, I’ll get myself off. Got an old friend round on John Street I’m off to see.’ He shook both Dorothy’s and Angie’s hands again, tipped his fedora and hobbled off down the street, leaning heavily on his walking stick, but still managing to make haste.
‘Oh, Angie. This is so exciting!’ Dorothy had to stop herself grabbing her friend and twirling her around on the street.
‘I know,’ Angie said. ‘Eee, I’ve got loads to tell ya.’ Dorothy raised her keys in the air. ‘Let’s get a brew on then, shall we!’
Letting themselves into the property, which had been split up into three decent-sized flats, they trudged up two flights of stairs, before dumping their bags outside their new front door.
‘I’m glad we’ve got the top flat,’ Dorothy said. ‘Means we won’t have anyone stomping around above us.’ She opened the door and they walked in.
The place was spotlessly clean.
‘Cor.’ Angie’s eyes were agog. ‘I still can’t believe we’ve got our own bedrooms. I’ve never had my own room. And look, there’s sheets and blankets on the bed!’
Dorothy, meanwhile, was looking in the small bathroom. ‘He’s even left us a new bar of soap and some towels.’
Angie came in and touched the towels. ‘Blimey, feel how soft they are!’
‘Come on, let’s have that brew,’ Dorothy said. ‘Then I reckon we get ourselves cleaned up and go and see Gloria and Hope.’
‘Eee,’ Angie said, ‘you might have to drag me out of that bath. Out of this flat, actually.’
‘Come on, let’s get the tea made. I want to hear what happened with your mam and dad.’
‘Well, I couldn’t believe how well it all went.’ Angie was sitting at the little dining-room table with her china cup held like she was drinking tea with the King, her little finger sticking out to the side.
‘I did just like Gloria said. I went to see my mam first. Caught her coming out of work.’ She paused. ‘Before she nicked off to see that bloke of hers.’
‘What did she say?’ Dorothy asked, pulling out a packet of biscuits from her own bulging holdall she’d dumped on the kitchen floor.
‘She was all right about it. I mean she had a moan about me ’n Liz leaving her with all the bairns, and she groaned that she “didn’t know how she was gonna manage”.’
Dorothy huffed. ‘Well, they are her “bairns”!’
‘Aye, exactly.’ Angie took another dainty sip of her tea.
‘I said to her if she wasn’t sloping off with that bit of stuff from Howick Street every spare minute, she might be able to manage better.’
‘Really!’ Dorothy’s eyes were wide. ‘What did she say when you said that?’
‘She gave me a look like the summons,’ Angie said, opening up the packet of biscuits. ‘I thought she was gonna give us a slap, but she just said that I was obviously a big girl now with an even bigger gob ’n I could do what I wanted.’
‘So what did you do then?’ Dorothy said as she watched Angie retrieve a plate from the cupboard and lay the biscuits out. Normally she’d just scoff them straight from the packet.
‘So, then I went to see my dad. Caught him just as he was about to leave for the night shift. The neighbours had the bairns so it was nice ’n quiet for a change ’n I just told him that I’d got this great flat with you, ’n I was moving out.’
‘What did he say?’ Dorothy was entranced.
‘He said the same as Mam – mithered on about how would they manage, especially now Liz was gone. I told him it was the same as if me ’n Liz had both got married. We wouldn’t be there then. He thought for a while, which is hard work fer ma dad.’ Angie chuckled as she picked up a biscuit, holding her hand underneath so as not to drop any crumbs. Again it was something Dorothy had never seen her do. ‘And then he just said, “Aye, yer reet there, Angela. Well, if yer mam gives yer the thumbs up, then get yerself off!”’
Dorothy clapped her hands in excitement.
‘As soon as he was out the door, I crammed as much into my bag as possible, and I tore out the house. I was so excited! I jumped on a tram ’n practically sprinted from Fawcett Street to here.’ Angie looked round the flat with a big smile on her face. ‘Eee, I can’t believe this is our new home?’
‘I know, me nei
ther,’ Dorothy agreed, with an equally big grin on her face.
‘Go on then, let’s get ourselves ready and go and see Gloria. Tell her the good news,’ Dorothy said, as Angie popped the rest of the biscuit into her mouth and headed for the bathroom.
‘So, what did your mam ’n dad say?’ Angie shouted through the bathroom door as she gave herself a washdown. ‘Or rather yer mam,’ Angie corrected herself, knowing that Dorothy would not even have considered asking her stepfather’s permission.
‘God, you know my mother,’ Dorothy said. ‘Hardly batted an eyelid. The girls were running riot and little Christie was demanding her attention, as always. All she said was to make sure I left her the address so she knew where I was, and was it “normal for two girls to be living together?”’
‘What did she mean by that?’ Angie said.
‘She thinks I should be married now and settled down.
She hates it when I tell her I’m never getting married.’
‘Do yer really never want to get married, Dor?’ Angie’s head popped round the door. She was drying her face on the fluffy white towel, which Dorothy noticed had G.R.M. embroidered in gold thread in the bottom corner.
‘Nah, I just say it to wind her up.’
‘Well, Dor, I reckon I’m gonna marry someone really rich so I can afford to buy towels like this one.’ Angie put the towel against her cheek and closed her eyes in bliss.
‘Well, I’ll have to give you intensive elocution lessons if that really is your aim.’
‘Ah, Dor, I wish you would use words I understood.’ Angie reappeared from the bathroom, her face glowing clean, wearing a slightly crumpled cotton dress.
‘Go on, your turn!’ she declared, holding the bathroom door open for her friend.
While Dorothy washed her face, Angie did another tour of the flat. Walking into one of the bedrooms, she noticed that there was a loft. Taking a chair from the kitchen, she reached up and opened the little hatch. Poking her head through, she looked around, and as her eyes adjusted to the dark, she spotted a small paper bag and what looked like a pile of rags. She reached out and pulled them towards her. A small cloud of dust and dirt made her sneeze.
