Chocolate Girls

by Annie Murray

  The day had gone well enough. Edie’s mom and dad had concealed their differences, or at least ignored each other all day. Her mom had made a great to-do over Edie’s wedding dress, forcing her into an elaborate crêpe and lace creation with a long skirt and a short overskirt, when Edie would rather have had something pretty and simple. But, oh no, Nellie was going to make sure things were done in style, even if Edie was marrying a Weale. Otherwise Nellie hadn’t said a word to her, not even her last night at home before the wedding. No motherly advice, nothing. Thank goodness for Ethel Bonner. Ruby’s mom had roused herself enough to advance Edie’s education on the intimate realities of married life.

  ‘I don’t s’pose Nellie iron bloomers will’ve said a word to her, poor wench,’ Ethel said. So at least Edie had been prepared in theory, even if the reality turned out to be a mortifying disappointment.

  Edie had wondered if her mother was reconciled to her marrying Jack, but as she processed back along the aisle of St Andrew’s church as a married woman on Jack’s arm, proud of how smart he looked in his wedding suit (except for his black eye) and holding her little bouquet of roses and carnations, she caught her mother’s eye and saw a hard, dry-eyed expression on her face which chilled her. Then she thought, Oh well, Mom, it’s done now and even if you can’t be glad for me, you can’t stop me. You never wanted me really, either of you, so now you’ve got shot of me. She tried to forget her bitterness a moment later when she was out in the warm sun, being pelted with rice by the cheering Cadbury girls. A lump rose in her throat as she thought how they’d been more of a family to her over the years. She had been given a gold-edged bible by Miss Dorothy Cadbury as as gift when she left the firm, which was a lovely gift, but getting married meant she was losing all these pals! But now she had Jack, Edie told herself. Her new life was beginning. Having her own husband and home would be worth everything. Jack’s best man, Frank, gave her a moist peck on the cheek. Ruby, stately looking in her yellow bridesmaid’s dress, managed to catch the bouquet, which Edie made sure she threw in her direction. Ruby’s fleshy features broke into a beam of delight and Edie saw her wink at Frank.

  ‘Oooh,’ she chuckled, ‘I don’t think that’s going happen in a hurry!’

  After all the chatter and good wishes, everyone cheered them off for their wedding night. Edie and Ruby embraced tightly, both with tears in their eyes.

  ‘Yer look lovely, Edie,’ Ruby sniffed. ‘I ’ope yer have a lovely time with Jack. I ain’t half gunna miss yer though.’

  ‘Oh Rube—’ Edie kissed her, laughing and crying at once. ‘Your make-up’ll start running! And I’m coming back tomorrow – we’re not going to Australia! You come and see me as soon as Jack and me are in our new place.’

  ‘You won’t keep me away!’ Ruby sniffed, trying to smile.

  They hugged each other tight and Edie felt a deep pang on parting with her as she and Jack left to catch the train. This was the end of an era for them and Ruby was the one being left behind. The next morning, lying beside her new husband, Edie wondered if Ruby felt even half as desolate as she did.

  Easing herself up in bed, she sat with the bedclothes over her knees, her fiery hair loose over her shoulders. Arms folded, she instinctively stroked the scar on her arm with her fingers, as she did whenever she felt ill at ease. There was a little gabled window from which she could see a sward of grass, a gate, and sheep dotted in the distance. A dog was barking somewhere and drifting up the stairs came the smell of frying bacon.

  Jack stirred slightly in his sleep. He looked very young, with his eyes closed and face relaxed. He was tall and thin, malnourished-looking, with hard, knotted muscles and very pale skin. Edie watched him, dreading him waking. He seemed such a stranger lying there. And now she had to spend the rest of her life with him! What on earth had she let herself in for? And what could they say to each other after last night’s fiasco?

  When they had reached the pub the evening before, the landlady led them through to a dark little room with a beamed ceiling, laid before them bowls of oxtail soup and pulled a pint of bitter for Jack. She looked rather knowingly at him, seeing his bruised face, and Edie was embarrassed. The glass of cider she requested also went straight to her head and made her feel muzzy. She’d changed out of her wedding dress and into a new shirtwaister she’d also made for herself in pretty swirls of blue and green, and was very pleased with the way it looked, the soft poplin seeming to caress her slim waist, falling in soft, flowing folds. She wanted Jack to say how nice it was but he didn’t seem to notice. He drank his pint with more enthusiasm than he looked at her.

  ‘What did yer think of my wedding dress, Jack?’ she whispered. There were only a couple of men besides them in the room, drinking at the bar.

  Jack looked up from his soup and smiled. ‘It were lovely, Ede. Did you make it?’

  She beamed back at him. ‘It took me weeks. I was ever so pleased with it – and the veil.’

  Jack frowned. ‘Veil? Oh ar – veil. It were a good day. Now we can get down to it can’t we – being married, like?’

  Both of them were suddenly full of nerves and ill at ease, with scarcely a word to say to each other. They were both nineteen and Edie realized it was the first time they had ever been properly alone. Oh, there’d been those walks round the back streets in the evening, keeping out of everybody’s way. Stolen kisses in doorways or down by the Cut. Even the odd few moments indoors when Nellie allowed them to use the front room, but Edie could never relax at home, feeling her mom’s disapproving presence from the next room. Courting had been one long battle to snatch a few minutes away from everyone else. Now they had all the time they wanted, neither of them knew what to do with it. And in Edie’s mind all the time was the thought that soon they’d have to go upstairs.

  Thanks to Ethel’s foresight, she knew, give or take, what was supposed to happen. Certainly things hadn’t progressed that far before, she’d seen to that. She couldn’t say she’d wanted them to either. A kiss and cuddle was nice enough.

  They latched the door behind them and Jack stood grinning at her. Edie’s hands were cold despite the warmth of the evening and her legs felt peculiar, a condition not made any better by the cider. She was certain it was the first time for Jack as well. She didn’t think he looked nervous, but when he came and put his hands on her shoulders, she could feel he was trembling.

  ‘Oh, Jack.’ She smiled, touched by this, and waited for him to sweep her into his arms like they did in the pictures and for everything to melt into a rosy haze. Even Ethel had suggested things might feel rather nice. She closed her eyes and raised her face to him.

  ‘Now then,’ she heard him say. ‘’Ere’s the moment we’ve been waiting for.’

  She was reassured by the way he put his arms tightly round her, just held her, warmly, for a moment.

  ‘We’re married, Jack – can yer believe it?’ she said. ‘And I do love yer.’

  Suddenly he picked her up. Edie opened her eyes, letting out a squeal of shock, as he carried her to the bed and half threw her on it. ‘We can do whatever we like now!’ he said, with relish, and more or less flung himself on top of her. His hands were everywhere, no holds barred, squeezing her breasts through her dress. He quickly became very excited. After a short time he jumped up and tore off his shirt and trousers. Seeing him suddenly naked, Edie didn’t know where to look.

  ‘Eh, Ede, let’s get yer frock off.’

  Carefully she unbuttoned her new, so lovingly sewn dress and began to pull it over her head, but suddenly she felt it yanked from above and heard the stitches rip in one sleeve. A second later she was on the bed in her little camisole and bloomers, her flesh covered in goose-pimples, arms folded because she felt so exposed. Wasn’t she suppose to feel something? The only emotion sweeping through her was mortifying embarrassment.

  ‘Come on, Edie—’ Jack stood over her, his desire all too visible to her eyes. It made her want to giggle with nerves, but she stifled her laughter.

  �
��You’re in a great hurry, I see!’

  She pulled her vest over her head and reluctantly slid her bloomers down, exposing her white body, the scar, her lightly freckled arms and shoulders. Her hair licked in russet flames down her back. She was looking up shyly at him, waiting for him to do whatever those loving things were that men were supposed to do, but he pushed her back clumsily on the bed, frantic with excitement. He hardly even seemed to see her. Edie felt nothing, except pawed at. Just once he looked into her face and said again, ‘Come on, Ede!’ as if she was supposed to be doing something, but she couldn’t make out what it was. In any case a moment later, tense and flushed in the face, he dragged her legs apart and tried to push up into her. But it was all too late. She heard him cursing and felt the patch of damp stickiness spreading between them as he collapsed on to her.

  What seemed like an age later he climbed off her, cross and out of sorts, not looking at her. They cleaned themselves up, then lay side by side in silence. After a long time, in which Edie felt a lump come up in her throat, she whispered, ‘Jack? You still awake?’

  But there was no reply, even though she didn’t think he was asleep. There was nothing for it but to try to settle for the night. But Edie couldn’t sleep for ages. What had gone wrong? Wasn’t he supposed to have got a bit, well, further in than that? Was there something wrong with her that meant Jack couldn’t function properly with her? Some blockage? Did that mean she wasn’t a proper woman and wouldn’t be able to have a babby? If only he’d say something! Her mind spun round and round and she felt very tearful and lonely as Jack slept, oblivious, beside her.

  Now daylight had come she felt a little more cheerful. It was some time before Jack woke. She watched him open his eyes and register where he was, looking over his shoulder at her as if to check it wasn’t all a dream.

  Edie smiled. ‘Morning, sleepyhead.’ She leaned over and kissed him, trying to inject some warmth and intimacy into the day.

  Jack kissed her back, rather abruptly, still without looking at her. She tried to tell herself that he was embarrassed, sulking after last night, but his rejection still felt like a slap, bringing tears to her eyes. Instead of pulling her into his arms as she’d hoped he might, he flung the covers back, yawned, stretched, then sat up.

  ‘Right,’ he said. ‘I can smell cooking. Time for a bite to eat.’

  He sat on the edge of the bed so that she could only see his white, sinewy back as he pulled on his trousers. She might as well not have been there.

  Four

  Ruby came round to Edie and Jack’s new lodgings the next week, and Edie laughed with delight at the sight of her.

  ‘Hello! It’s nice to see your big grin coming round the door! You out today then?’

  Ruby sat down with a groan, kicking off her shoes. ‘Oh, my feet’re killing me! Yes, we’re out today. I’ve been on coating caramels – it’s so warm it was coming off again as fast as we could get it on.’ Cadbury’s sometimes had to send workers home on summer days when it was too hot for the chocolate to set.

  ‘Hey, look at you, Ginger!’ Ruby let out her big, generous laugh and gazed enviously round Edie and Jack’s humble lodgings. ‘Married woman, eh! ’Ow’s life with Jack the Lad then?’

  ‘It’s awright,’ Edie said.

  ‘More than awright by the look of yer. Ere y’are – brought yer some oranges.’

  ‘Ta,’ Edie grinned. She had her hair pulled into a high ponytail to keep her neck cool and it swung round jauntily. ‘Look, ’ere’s a tanner for ’em.’

  ‘No, yer awright. Tuppence’ll do. They’ve ate half the bag at home already. I ’ad to stop Perce and Alf polishing the lot off. I said, ’ere, save some for Edie, they’re her favourite.’

  Oranges, already peeled, were sometimes sold in the Cadbury’s reject shop, twenty at a time, along with brown bags of misshapen chocolate, priced cheaply for he workers. The fruits were leftovers from making orange creams, and a real treat when they were available. Edie put the kettle on and tipped the old dregs into a square of newspaper.

  ‘Don’t want her downstairs to see me throwing this lot out. She’s a miserable old bitch. Told me I should reuse my tea-leaves two or three times to be eco-nomical!’ Edie imitated her landlady, Miss Smedley’s, pinched features and affected voice.

  ‘None of her business what you do, is it? But it’s awright, this, ain’t it?’

  ‘It’ll do us,’ Edie said, defiantly spooning fresh tea into the pot. ‘Least it’s ours.’

  She and Jack had had to keep their sights low when they were looking for lodgings. Edie’s dream of a house had shrunk to two rented upstairs rooms in Fordhouse Lane. You came straight in from the street through the dark hall and upstairs. All the floors were covered with brown lino, so thin and worn you could see the line of every floorboard through it. At the back was the bedroom, containing two single beds which Edie and Jack had moved together, lifting them across the floor so Miss Smedley wouldn’t hear and then setting the springs screeching as they collapsed on them in fits of laughter at the thought of her eavesdropping below. The kitchen looked out over the front. Apart from the table and two chairs there was one ancient leather easy chair, horsehair bulging through holes in the arms, a tiny stove with two gas rings, a cupboard and a battered old meat safe tucked in the corner.

  The two of them sipped tea. Edie kicked her shoes off as well. The window was open and warm air floated in from the street bringing dust and factory smells as they laughed and chatted together, remembering old jokes, catching up on news. Ruby’s loud laugh filled the room. Charlotte Road had been supplied with Anderson shelters and George, Ruby’s brother, had said he’d put theirs up but he hadn’t got round to it. The lads had spent most of the last two days at school filling sandbags to pile up outside. Barrage balloons hung over the city like bloated fish.

  ‘You seen our mom?’ Edie asked.

  ‘No. Oh ar, I did once – in Mrs Higgins’ shop. Why – ain’t she been round ’ere?’

  ‘Once,’ Edie said, refilling Ruby’s teacup. She’d given her the one cup that had a saucer to match. ‘Just after we moved in. Turned her nose up and went off again.’

  Edie had seethed with resentment at the intrusion and at Nellie’s cutting remarks. Seeing her mother outside her usual home, Edie was struck afresh by how peculiar she was. How she seemed permanently to carry a fierce inner tension that was written in every line of her body. She was always in search of some imagined perfection in everything – houses, furniture, people – and was always destined to be disappointed. The very air she breathed appeared to make her furious with resentment.

  ‘D’you want a cup of tea?’ Edie had asked.

  Nellie made a dismissive gesture, her nose wrinkling. ‘Oh no, ta,’ she said, as if drinking poison would be a preferable alternative. She gave a last look round the room.

  ‘Well, I s’pose this’ll ’ave to do yer,’ she said harshly, running a disdainful hand over the table to check for dust. ‘Though I did expect my daughters to start their married life in a proper house at least.’

  She left with an air of washing her hands of Edie.

  ‘Mom’s just glad to get another of us off her plate, even if she will miss my wages. I ain’t been home to visit. Sod them all, I say.’ She stirred her tea.

  ‘And how’s life with Jack?’ Ruby asked, with a suggestive look.

  ‘All right,’ Edie blushed. Not that she’d tell Ruby anything. Not private things. Since their ill-fated wedding night things had improved a great deal. The next day had been awful: silence between them, Jack sulking, full of hurt pride. Edie was as relieved as anything to get back into Birmingham and have practical things to do, setting up home. Jack hadn’t even attempted to try again the next night, but by the next day they’d made up. It was helped by Jack getting a new job on the Monday, in a bicycle repair shop. Edie said give it a few days and she’d get a little job, probably in a shop as well. They were in the mood for celebrating that night and more relaxed with each
other. Bedtime went a lot better. She couldn’t say she found married intimacy exciting – it all seemed rather messy and undignified – but it seemed to please Jack. At least it meant she was normal. Edie was convinced from that first time that she’d be expecting a baby straight away.

  ‘The only thing is,’ she told Ruby, ‘he’s getting back into his old habits. He come in, Sat’dy night, stinking of beer and chips and with a great big shiner. I don’t understand him, Rube. I had a moan at him and he says, that’s what makes a Sat’dy – a few pints, a bag of chips and a good fight. I mean can you believe it? When he’s married?’

  ‘Well, you didn’t think he’d just change overnight, did yer? You know what he’s like.’

  ‘I know,’ Edie sighed. ‘Still, we’re all right. I miss you lot though. I’m going to have to get myself a little job at the Co-op or somewhere. I’ve cleaned this place from top to bottom I don’t know how many times. I even went to see our Florrie in Coventry last week. Her little lads’re lovely,’ she added wistfully. How she longed to have her own baby so she could love and care for it!

  Edie had hoped that although Florrie was so much older, her having married might have bridged the gap, but Florrie was just as bossy and superior as ever. Edie loved to hold little Ian, though, who wasn’t yet two, squeeze his smooth, plump arms and play with his warm toes. She remembered her brother Rodney at this age, before he became a millstone round her neck as she was the one expected to mind him all the time. Her mom was never interested in looking after him.

  Refilling the teacups, she said, ‘How’s your mom, Ruby?’

  ‘Not too bad – you know ’ow it is . . .’ But Ruby’s face fell. ‘Truth is, she had a bad do Monday night. I’ve never seen her that far gone before. She got up to go to the lav and fell over. Couldn’t budge.’ Ruby fanned herself with Edie’s little sketchbook, which had been on the table. ‘Me and George and Perce had one hell of a job with her. I said to ’er when ’er come to the next morning, “Mom, yer can’t go on like this. You’re making yourself really bad.”’ Ruby shook her head. ‘It was terrible to see her, Ede. She started crying, saying she was sorry. I think it brought her to her senses a bit actually. She was vowing she’d never do it again. But all this talk about war’s getting her down an’ all. She says she can’t stand the thought of all that again.’