The Ever Open Door

by Glenice Crossland

  This meant that after Saturday night and another session on Sunday dinnertime, Jim would often be left with nothing with which to buy his packet of five Woodbines a day. Sally didn’t mind paying out for him. It just maddened her that his hard-earned money was being handed over the bar at the Sun instead of being put towards doing up the new house. It also maddened her that he would never change. In fact, despite the way he annoyed her, she didn’t really want to change him. She loved Jim, just the way he was.

  The house was coming along nicely. All the painting was completed, and the walls had been finished off with a pretty inch-wide strip of border. Sally had stuck this on about a foot from the ceiling all the way round the living-room. She had bought some lino from the Co-op which would match the carpet square they already had. Her mother had pegged a new rug on the pegging frame, helped by Pat on her weekly visits to her grandma’s.

  The house was cleared now of all but the things they could use. Bedding, towels and some of the crockery still left intact after the break-in had been stored at Amy Butler’s in case Betty ever needed it. Furniture that was surplus to requirements had been given to a grateful family of ten in one of the houses down by the works.

  Now, all was ready for them to move in. But still something seemed to be holding Sally back. She continued to find one excuse after the other and knew Jim was becoming impatient with her. She would arrange for the move immediately after Christmas, she decided, and felt better now she had set a definite time. January for certain.

  Betty had really enjoyed her night out. The band had been passable even though some of them were stand-ins, due to the war. Once she and Doreen started dancing they couldn’t have cared less who the musicians were, though. One or two of Betty’s former boyfriends thought they might be in with a chance and offered to walk her home, but she made it quite clear that she was a married woman now, and soon put them in their place.

  One of Clarence’s mates from the pit had a few dances with her but only talked about things in general, such as Clarence’s whereabouts. Betty simply told him she wasn’t allowed to say. He enquired about the baby, and her brother Jim, and then moved on to Doreen. Neither girl gave any encouragement to their partners but simply enjoyed the dancing. Betty Hayes had certainly changed.

  The night out still didn’t satisfy her need to be doing something useful, though. She really had to do something about that.

  When Daisy ran through the gap in the wall on her way home from school the following Monday, there was a woman knocking on their front door. Daisy had never seen her before and couldn’t help staring. The woman had long black hair curling over her shoulders and was wearing a fur coat. She had bright red lipstick and black stuff round her eyes. She was also wearing the highest heels Daisy had ever seen.

  Sally opened the door and her mouth dropped open at the sight of the other woman.

  ‘Is Jim in?’

  ‘No,’ Sally said. ‘What do you want him for?’

  ‘I just wanted to talk to him.’

  ‘What about?’ Daisy noticed her mam didn’t seem too pleased to see the new arrival. ‘Look!’ Sally continued. ‘If it concerns my husband, it concerns me.’

  ‘Oh,’ the other woman hesitated, ‘I … er … it’s all right. It wasn’t important.’ She went tottering down the row, stumbling in her impossibly high heels in the effort to get away. The scent of Californian Poppy lingered behind her.

  Daisy could tell by her mam’s face that she wasn’t in a good mood and took refuge under her tree. When Jim came back from visiting his mother, Sally was waiting for him.

  ‘You’ve had a visitor.’

  ‘Oh?’ He sat down and took off his shoes. ‘Who?’

  ‘One of your fancy women, by the looks of her.’

  ‘What? Oh, aye. Chance’d be a fine thing.’

  ‘Black hair, fur coat and no knickers, I shouldn’t wonder.’ Sally’s face was scarlet with rage.

  ‘What are you on about?’ Jim asked, but he looked as though he’d already guessed.

  ‘You know very well what and who I’m on about. What I want to know is, why she should come looking for my husband?’

  ‘Well, I don’t know. I just bought her a drink on Saturday in the Sun. She started chatting to me at the bar. Pleasant enough, she seemed. That’s all.’

  ‘Propping up the pub bar, on her own? You should have known what sort of woman she were, just by looking at her! Still, I expect you admire that sort. Not somebody like me, who goes out mopping floors and cleaning lavatories. So that you’ve got money to spend on the likes of her.’

  ‘Look, Sally, I bought her a drink, that’s all. I suppose I felt sorry for her, with nobody talking to ’er.’

  ‘And why do you think nobody was talking to her?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Well, I do! You great, gormless idiot. Because she’s a …’

  Daisy ran into the kitchen, interrupting this conversation before Sally could speak her mind.

  ‘Mam, who was that lady?’

  ‘Lady?’ Sally gasped.

  ‘Yes, who was she? I liked her shoes.’

  ‘Oh, did you?’

  ‘Yes. And, Mam, will you grow your hair like hers?’

  Sally’s face was such a picture that Jim had all on to stifle a smile.

  ‘No, I certainly will not.’

  ‘And, Dad, will you buy my mam a coat like hers, all nice and warm and furry?’

  Jim’s face finally turned serious. ‘What, yer mam in a fur coat? Aye, if she promises to wear it wi’ no …’

  ‘Jim!’ Sally put a stop to whatever he was about to say. Then she looked at him, and couldn’t help it – she began to laugh, he did, and then neither of them could stop.

  ‘Let’s get our teas.’ Sally went to the oven and brought out a tray of jacket potatoes. It wasn’t until Daisy was in bed out of the way that Sally asked her husband, ‘Did she know you were married?’

  Jim looked up from his book. ‘What? I don’t know, I don’t suppose so. Why should she? I told yer, I just bought her a drink, that’s all. I’d forgotten all about her. Why she should want to see me, I don’t know.’

  ‘Well, she obviously fancies you, and I expect you encouraged her. Jim, you’ll have to stop buying drinks for all and sundry! We can’t afford it. Besides, it’s going to get you a bad name, drinking with women like her. It’s a waste of time me trying to earn a bit extra if you carry on like this. Do you think you’re being fair?’

  ‘No, I’m not,’ he sighed. ‘Oh, lass, you know what I’m like? Too soft for me own good.’

  ‘Yes, well, it’s got to stop.’ Sally suddenly grinned. ‘Oh, Jim, you should have seen her face when I said you were my husband. She nearly fell off her heels, hurrying away.’ Sally felt the heat rise to her face then. ‘Oh! I hope Miss Appleby didn’t see her …’

  ‘Bugger Miss Appleby! Anyway, she’ll only think I’ve got meself a fancy woman.’

  ‘Don’t even think about doing that.’ She picked up the ball of wool she’d just wound and threw it at him. Sally might be putting on a good face but she couldn’t shake off the feeling of jealousy. How she wished she was a bit more glamorous, especially as Daisy seemed to admire that woman so much.

  Sally still wished Jim wasn’t quite so generous with his hard-earned money, then she might be able to afford a few glamorous adornments for herself. Then she realised that if that was Jim’s only fault, she had a lot to be thankful for. Besides, she supposed she wasn’t perfect herself, always being there for everybody and their grandmothers. It was right what Jim always said, theirs was a house with an ever open door. When they moved to the new house, Sally vowed to change that – to lock people out occasionally.

  She grinned, knowing it would never happen, neither of them would ever change … except that after today she would try and do herself up a bit, make herself a bit more attractive. She might even become a bit more of a fur coat and no knickers type – without the fur coat, of course, they coul
dn’t afford that.

  Preparations for Christmas were in progress, even though everything was in short supply. The cakes made by Betty were more carrot than fruit but she had insisted on baking Sally one too, so rations had been pooled and the results looked quite satisfactory considering the circumstances. Jim was busy making a doll’s house and Amy Butler knitting for Daisy and Ernie.

  Joe Denman was enjoying being in the Home Guard – not that they saw much action in Millington, except for their right arms which received a fair amount of exercise lifting pints, in order to slaken the pit dust at the Miners’ Club after the meetings.

  Betty was preparing for another night out, this time with Florence who was home again for a few days. She had been invited to a dance with a couple of soldiers and Betty was to make up a foursome. She had declined the invitation at first but had been persuaded when Florence assured her there would be no hanky-panky. They met on Coles corner and the foursome decided to go for a drink before moving on to the dance.

  Betty liked the soldiers on sight, they were easy to talk to and had a good sense of humour. Both of them were married, and though they were obviously attracted to the two girls, made no attempt to seduce them. They were also good dancers. Just as Betty began to relax and feel comfortable, the air-raid warning sounded. Nobody seemed worried at first except Betty herself, who wanted to leave immediately and get home to Ernie.

  ‘It’ll be a false alarm,’ Florence assured her. ‘We’ll be all right.’

  ‘No! We ought to make for the shelter.’ Betty was beginning to panic.

  ‘I think Betty’s right,’ Ron said. ‘We ought to play safe.’ He took her arm and made for the door. Florence decided to follow her friend, but as the four of them hurried along the street an almighty blast shook the building on their left as a bomb hit the shop. Betty and Ron were lifted off their feet. He threw Betty to the ground and himself on top of her. She saw the shop front explode and then the whole window was shattering in their direction.

  ‘I’m sorry, Ernie,’ Betty whispered as she was buried beneath Ron and a mountain of glass and brick.

  * * *

  Sheffield was ravaged by a raid for nine and a half hours that night. Walsh’s store burned throughout and almost 3,000 houses were demolished. The fires could be seen miles away in Millington, and when Betty failed to come home Amy lifted little Ernie from his cot and rocked him until the light of the winter morning showed through a gap beneath the blackout. Then she placed him in his pram and wheeled him the few yards to Jim’s. She didn’t want to wake the family and went quietly into the house to sit by the smouldering cinders of the fire, feeling comforted just by being in the same house as her family.

  She placed a few new coals on the fire and lifted the half-full kettle on to the bars. It would be singing by the time Jim and Sally left their beds. Then she began to worry lest any news was brought and she wasn’t home to receive it, and that was followed by anxiety about her grandson. What would happen to him when her limbs became useless, as they threatened to do more often these days?

  Sally was first up. Seeing Amy startled her so much that she dropped the cold bed brick she had been carrying.

  ‘Oh, Ma, whatever’s wrong?’

  ‘It’s my lass,’ Amy said. ‘She ’asn’t come ’ome. Summat’s happened, I know it ’as.’

  Sally placed her arm round her mother-in-law but could think of no words of consolation. All Millington had heard the bombing and watched the blaze over the city. Some had taken to the shelters for the first time. The Butlers and Cartwrights had gone to Enid’s cellar for a while, and had a singsong to take the children’s minds off the noise. Jim had checked on his mother, who had promised him she was not shifting anywhere and would go to bed directly their Betty arrived home. Betty clearly hadn’t.

  ‘Look!’ said Sally. ‘No news is good news. She probably couldn’t get home. The buses would have stopped running.’

  ‘No, she’d ’ave come ’ome if she’d ’ad to walk it. She would never ’ave abandoned our Ernie.’

  ‘No, no, she wouldn’t, if she’d had any choice, but she probably didn’t have one.’ Sally made some tea. Just then Mr Harrison arrived.

  ‘It’s only me.’ He looked at Amy. ‘Oh, yer there, Mrs Butler. I’ve left yer a gill, is that all right? Only you ’adn’t left a jug out so I got one out of the cupboard.’

  ‘Aye, lad, thanks.’

  ‘ ’By, but what a night that’s been! They say city’s naught but a bomb site.’

  ‘Aye, and our Betty’s somewhere amongst it.’

  ‘Oh! Eeh, yer must be worried sick. Well, I dare say she’d ’ave got to a shelter or somewhere safe. There’ll ’ave been no transport or owt.’

  Jim had heard their voices by now and appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

  ‘Mother?’

  ‘It’s our Betty. She’s not come ’ome.’ It was all too much for Amy then. She broke into sobs. ‘Summat’s happened, I know it ’as. And what’s to become of the bairn?’

  ‘Don’t worry about Ernie. He’ll be cared for,’ Jim assured her. ‘But don’t let’s imagine the worst.’ A knock on the door silenced him then and Sally hurried to open it.

  ‘Florence! Thank God you’re all right.’

  ‘Yes, but it’s Betty, Mrs Butler. She … she’s hurt. We were on our way to the shelter …’

  ‘Hurt? How bad?’

  ‘I’m not sure. She’s been taken to the Infirmary, but they’re so run off their feet, it’s just chaos there.’

  ‘What ’appened, love? Here, get this down yer.’ Jim had brought out the brandy.

  ‘We were making for the shelter when a shop front was blown out. Betty was the nearest. She would have been much worse off if it hadn’t been for a soldier throwing himself on top of her. He protected her from the worst of the blast. Unfortunately, he didn’t survive.’ Florence began to shake then. Sally recognised the signs of shock and forced some of the spirit into the girl’s mouth. Jim had already put on his overcoat. ‘I’ll go see if the buses are running. If not I’ll get a taxi.’

  ‘Shall I come?’ Sally enquired.

  ‘No! The bairns’ll want seeing to.’

  ‘I’m coming,’ Amy insisted.

  ‘No, Mother. Wait till I get back, then we’ll see. I doubt if they’ll let two of us in until visiting time.’

  ‘I’d better go and let them know at home I’m all right.’ But Florence doubted her mother would even have missed her. Betty didn’t know how fortunate she was, having such a caring family. She started to cry. Partly for Betty, partly for Ron, and partly for herself and the baby she had never even held in her arms.

  ‘Come on, love, I’ll take you home,’ Sally said. Florence didn’t want to go home, to a mother who had forced her to give away her own flesh and blood. What kind of a mother would do that? She decided she would go away again, as soon as she knew Betty would be all right. There was nothing for her in Millington any more.

  Fortunately the buses between Millington and the hospital were back on the road. The conductor told Jim that dozens of trams and buses had been destroyed and tram wires broken. Fortunately the steelworks targeted in the east end had been largely spared, but the city centre was a no go area.

  ‘I know,’ Jim told him, ‘my sister was in the thick of it.’

  ‘So yer off to the Infirmary then, are yer?’

  ‘Aye. I don’t know what I’m going to find, though.’

  ‘Chaos, lad, bloody chaos. Some’s ’ad to be took to the Sally Army Citadel and other places.’ He wound Jim a ticket off. ‘Anyway, I ’ope yer find her not too bad.’

  ‘Thanks,’ he said as he waited for the bus to reach its destination.

  Betty had just regained consciousness when Jim arrived. She had a lump on her forehead the size of a golf ball and one arm had been stitched from elbow to shoulder. Her emotional state seemed to be the biggest problem. Betty began to cry as soon as she set eyes on her brother.

  ‘God, Betty,
are yer okay? I thought you were a goner, love. How do yer feel?’

  ‘As though I’ve been rolling naked through a razor-blade factory.’

  ‘Your arm’s a mess, love, but it’ll heal.’ Betty folded down the sheets and showed her brother her ankle. He couldn’t see the wound for a huge wad of lint and bandage.

  ‘What about the rest of yer?’

  ‘He saved my life, Jim. He died saving me. They’ve only just told me.’

  ‘Who was he, do yer know?’

  ‘No. Only that he was a friend of Florence’s and his name was Ron. I saw the blast – well, felt it really – and then the glass and bricks, I don’t know what, and then his body was on top of me. That’s all I remember. I thought I was about to die. I thought I was leaving Ernie.’

  ‘Come on, Bet. You’re going to be all right.’

  ‘I am. Ron isn’t.’

  ‘What happened to ’im? Do yer know?’

  ‘A piece of glass severed his main artery. They say he was dead by the time the ambulance arrived.’ She shivered. ‘It would have been me, but for him. It should have been me. He was a married man. He survived Dunkirk and then died in the bloody Sheffield blitz, saving me.’

  ‘He was a brave soldier, Betty, and must have thought yer were worth saving or he wouldn’t ’ave done what he did.’

  ‘He didn’t even know me. We’d only met last night.’

  Jim struggled to find words to console his sister. ‘Well, at least he wouldn’t have had time to suffer.’

  ‘How’s Ernie? Where is he?’

  ‘He’s at our house. Mother wanted to come but I thought she’d be better away until I saw what you were like. Sally’ll bring her at visiting time.’

  ‘What about Ernie?’

  ‘He’ll be well looked after, don’t you fret. Enid or Mary’ll be glad to ’ave ’im. I’d like to come back meself but I’m on afters.’

  ‘I’m coming home.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think so.’