by Joan Jonker
Jack was watching with interest, thinking how different in personality his two eldest daughters were. If Molly had spoken those words to Jill, the shy girl would have blushed to the roots of her hair and lowered her eyes. But not Doreen. She held her mother’s gaze with a grin covering her face. ‘Any tips, Mam? Can yer remember any of the sweet nothings yer used to whisper in me dad’s ear while yer were holding hands?’
‘What d’yer mean, used to? I’ll have you know I still whisper sweet nothings in yer dad’s ear, an’ we still hold hands. But words between two sweethearts are secret. So yer’ll have to think of some of yer own. Yer won’t have no trouble; it comes natural.’ Molly waved her hand. ‘Now off yer go, sunshine, he’ll have had time to take his coat off.’
Phil opened the door to Doreen’s knock and the sight of her sent his pulses racing and his heart thudding. ‘God,’ he said softly, ‘yer’ll never know how much I’ve been looking forward to seeing you.’
He was more handsome than Doreen remembered. Taller and broader, his blue eyes more vivid and his hair more blond. She wanted to rush into his arms, to be held close, but she was suddenly overcome with shyness. Her feet refused to move and for once in her life she was tongue-tied. Phil opened the door wide and held his hand out. ‘Don’t stand on the step, love, come inside.’
The closing of the door and the touch of his hand restored Doreen’s power of speech. ‘Yer look smashin’ in yer uniform.’
‘And you’re a sight for sore eyes.’ Phil wrapped his arms around her and held her slim body close. ‘Yer’ve been in me thoughts day and night, an’ I’ve longed to hold yer like this.’ He ran his fingers through her long hair while kissing her gently on the cheek. ‘I’ve got it bad, Doreen.’
She pulled away to smile up into his face. ‘Me too.’
Reluctantly he let her go. ‘We’d better go in to Aunt Vicky, I don’t want to neglect her on me first night home.’ He held her hand as they walked down the hall and into the living room, where a cheerful fire burned in the grate. ‘Here’s the other woman in me life, Aunt Vicky.’
‘Hello, Doreen.’ Victoria was so happy she couldn’t have dropped the smile from her face if she’d wanted to. ‘Doesn’t he look handsome in his uniform?’
‘He certainly does.’ Doreen’s eyes ran down the length of him until she came to his boots. ‘They won’t half weigh yer down for a slow foxtrot.’
‘I’ve got me dancin’ shoes upstairs.’ He put an arm across her shoulders and squeezed. ‘Just think, two whole weeks in civvies.’
Doreen blushed at the show of affection in front of Miss Clegg. ‘Can we go to Barlow’s Lane tomorrow night?’
‘I’m looking forward to it.’ Phil gazed at his adopted aunt. ‘You don’t mind if I go out, do yer, Aunt Vicky?’
‘Of course not! You go out and enjoy yourselves.’ Victoria winked at Doreen. ‘I’ll have him during the day and you can have his undivided attention every night.’
Phil was beside himself with happiness. ‘Aren’t I lucky to have two lovely women fighting over me?’
There was a loud rat-tat on the knocker and Doreen pulled a face. ‘Here they come, the terrible twins.’
Molly, first through the door, flung her arms around Phil and kissed him soundly on both cheeks. ‘It’s good to see yer, sunshine.’
‘It’s good to be home, Mrs Bennett.’ As he smiled down into the upturned face, Phil saw where Doreen got her good looks from. The resemblance between mother and daughter was very strong.
Nellie thumped Molly on the back. ‘Shove over, missus, an’ give someone else a chance! Honest to God, it’s man-mad yer are. Anything in trousers an’ ye’re flutterin’ yer ruddy eyelashes like Bette Davis.’
Phil chuckled as Nellie pulled his head down and pursed her lips for a kiss. ‘Now I know I’m home.’
‘Ay, that’s enough!’ Molly tried to look severe. ‘Ye’re not supposed to kiss a young man on the mouth, ye’re supposed to offer yer cheek.’
Nellie’s huge body was shaking as she released Phil. ‘Seein’ as ye’re so clever with manners, girl, an’ just in case I’m in the same situation in the future, can I ask yer which one of me four cheeks I should offer? Yer see, I have trouble bendin’ down, an’ whoever it was would have a lot of trouble trying to kiss me backside.’
Phil roared, Doreen grinned from ear to ear, and Miss Clegg covered her mouth to hide her smile. Only Molly kept a straight face. ‘Nellie McDonough, I can’t take yer anywhere! Yer’d shame the flamin’ devil, yer would.’
‘Tut, tut!’ Nellie clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth. ‘What have I done wrong now, girl? Ye’re tryin’ to teach me manners, an’ I’m doing me level best to learn! But if I’m not allowed to ask a question, ’ow the hell am I supposed to learn? I think it was a perfectly reasonable question. I mean, after all, a cheek is a cheek whether it’s on yer face or yer backside!’
‘Oh, I give up!’ Molly threw her hands in the air and winked at Miss Clegg. ‘Where’s that flamin’ welcome home cake? Stick a piece of that in her gob an’ shut her up.’
Phil reached for Doreen’s hand. They’d never know how happy it made him to be part of these families. After nineteen years of living with the Bradleys, nineteen years of shame, he was now at peace with himself. He had Aunt Vicky who’d been so good to him and whom he adored, and he had Doreen, the girl of his dreams. And the icing on the cake were Molly and Nellie and their families. He was indeed blessed.
Chapter Six
The passengers disembarking at the Prince’s Dock from the overnight boat from Ireland all wore the same weary expression on their faces. Many were shivering with the cold as they walked down the gangplanks positioned at each end of the boat, clutching one of the side ropes to steady themselves as the boat bobbed up and down in the water. The decks were crowded with people eager to feel their feet on terra firma, but progress was slow as passengers struggled with cases and bags. Occasionally a hand would be lifted in greeting when a familiar face was spotted amongst the small group waiting behind a barrier to meet friends or family, or a voice raised asking those in front to put a move on. But for the most part the passengers were silent, too tired for conversation or smiles.
‘They don’t look very happy, do they, Ma?’ Molly was standing between her mother and Nellie. They’d been there for over an hour and she stamped her feet to get the circulation going while wondering how they would recognize Rosemary out of all those people … there must be hundreds of them!
‘It’s happy yer’d have them, is it?’ Bridie shook her head. ‘After spending ten hours on an open deck, with nothing to protect yer from the bitter wind, I don’t think yerself would be full of the joys of spring, either!’
‘It wouldn’t do for me.’ Nellie tightened the knot in the fleecy muffler around her neck. ‘I’m perishin’ just standing here.’
‘Quiet now an’ let’s keep our eyes open for her.’ Bridie was scanning the passengers as they stepped off the gangplanks. ‘She’ll be wearing a black skirt and shawl and a black hat.’
Thirty minutes later the crowds had thinned out and they still hadn’t spotted anyone they thought could be the young Irish girl. ‘There’s plenty more people on the boat,’ Molly said when she noticed her mother’s brow creased with worry. ‘Happen she’ll be one of the last off.’
‘Oh, look, I wonder if that’s her?’ Bridie pointed to a lone figure standing sideways on, a short distance from them. ‘Sure, she’s all in black so she is, and she looks as though she’s waitin’ for someone.’
‘Ma, yer need yer eyes testing!’ Molly grinned. ‘That’s never a fifteen-year-old girl! I can see her middle-age spread from here!’
Bridie went back to scanning the stragglers leaving the boat, but her eyes kept straying to the lone figure. ‘I’m going over to ask. If it’s not Rosemary, then there’s no harm done.’ Without further ado, Bridie rounded the barrier.
‘She’s wasting her time,’ Molly said. ‘If that’s a fifteen-y
ear-old girl, I’ll eat me ruddy hat.’
‘Have yer got a hat, girl?’ Nellie asked, innocently.
Molly tutted. ‘Now yer know I haven’t … what would I be wantin’ a hat for?’
Nellie screwed her face up, causing her eyes to disappear from view for a second. ‘Yer’d be wantin’ to eat it, girl. Turn around an’ see for yerself.’
Molly gasped in surprise when she saw her mother standing with her arms around the ‘middle-aged woman’. ‘Oh, my God, come on!’ She tugged on Nellie’s arm. ‘Fancy dressin’ a young girl in old-fashioned clothes like that!’ Oblivious to Nellie’s panting as she pulled her along behind, she hissed, ‘Remember what yer’ve got to say, it means a hundred thousand welcomes.’
When Bridie heard them come up behind her she stepped back from the girl. ‘This is me daughter, Mrs Bennett.’
‘Hello, Rosemary.’ The breath caught in Molly’s throat when she stared into the most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen. Deep blue, fanned by long black lashes, they were a mirror to the girl’s soul. All her emotions were there, naked for all to see. Fear at starting a new life, sadness at leaving behind all she loved, and shyness at meeting the people whose lives she was going to share. From that moment, Molly took the frightened young girl into her heart. She knew instinctively that here was someone who would never lie to you or do you a bad turn. She held her arms wide. ‘Cead mile failte, sunshine.’
Like a trusting child, Rosemary walked into her embrace. ‘I thank yer kindly, Mrs Bennett.’
‘Hey! What’s with the Mrs Bennett? I’m yer auntie Molly, sunshine, an’ there’s another auntie waitin’ to meet yer. Here she is, my best mate and your auntie Nellie.’
Nellie’s lips were moving silently, repeating the phrase over and over. Then she grinned at Molly. ‘Yer’ve been that long I’ve nearly forgot what I’m supposed to say.’ She turned her smile on Rosemary. ‘I mightn’t be able to get me tongue around it, girl, ’cos I can’t even speak proper English, but I’ll do me best. Cead mile failte … a hundred thousand welcomes to dear old Liverpool.’
Rosemary’s huge blue eyes filled with tears and her lips trembled. ‘Thank yer, Auntie Nellie.’
‘Come on,’ Bridie bustled. ‘She’s cold, tired and hungry, so let’s get her home. You carry her bags, will yer, Molly me darlin’?’
Outside the dock and walking towards the tram stop, Rosemary’s eyes were wide with wonder. ‘Sure yer’ve foine big buildings here, so yer have. I’ve never seen anythin’ so grand in all me life, an’ that’s the truth of it.’
There was a tram waiting at the stop and Bridie stepped aboard, but Molly held on briefly to Rosemary’s arm. ‘That’s the Liver Buildings with the two birds on top. Known all over the world, those birds are. An’ one day I’ll bring yer down an’ show yer all the other beautiful buildings we have in Liverpool. An’ we’ll go on a ferry trip across the Mersey to New Brighton where there’s a big fairground.’
‘Is that right now, Auntie Molly?’
‘It is, sunshine.’ Molly gazed at the round, chubby face with cheeks as rosy as a polished apple. She was a bonny girl all right, plump in all the right places. But the clothes she was wearing didn’t help. She looked comical in them, as though she was dressed for a role in a stage play set in the twenties. Especially the battered black hat with its two imitation cherries hanging down the side … that was more suitable for a woman of seventy than a seventeen-year-old.
‘Come on, let’s get on the tram before it goes without us.’ She let Rosemary get on, then waited for Nellie. ‘Come on, me old mate, I’ll give yer a push up.’
Nellie pouted her lips and said in a childish voice, ‘Only if yer promise to take me on the ferry to New Brighton an’ let me have a go on the ferris wheel.’
‘Shut up, yer daft ha’p’orth, an’ get yer backside on that tram before the pair of us are left behind.’
Molly lowered the gas under the pan and, bending her head, she sniffed appreciatively. ‘Mmm, that smells bloody lovely! I don’t care what anyone says, yer can’t beat neck of lamb for making a tasty pan of stew. Bags of potatoes, vegetables, onions and barley, with light fluffy suet dumplings. All that goodness is bound to put a lining on their tummies.’ Replacing the lid she grinned. ‘I remind meself of that poster of the Bisto Kids.’ She rinsed her hands under the tap then reached behind the door for the piece of towelling. From where she stood she could see Ruthie sitting on the couch cradling her doll in the crook of her arm. The doll was called Shirley, after Shirley Temple, and at one time had resembled the child film star, with bright blue eyes and long ringlets. But after two years of rough combing the hair was now tatty, the pink cheeks had been scrubbed white, half of her eyelashes were missing and she had a definite squint in her left eye.
Molly gave a low chuckle as she recalled the day Nellie had picked up the doll and laughingly said it looked like a woman of ill repute after a heavy night down on Lime Street. Fortunately Ruthie hadn’t heard the remark, otherwise it would have taken all of Molly’s gift for storytelling to explain what a woman of ill repute was, and what she was doing down Lime Street.
Molly finished drying her hands and looked towards the basin where the six round, floury dumplings were ready to drop in the pan twenty minutes before the stew was ready. The kitchen was spick and span, no dirty dishes or clothes hanging around, and Molly was feeling pleased with herself when she walked through to the living room. She paused near the sideboard to watch Ruthie, who had the doll over her shoulder and was patting its back saying, ‘Come on, me darlin’, get that nasty wind up for yer mam. If yer don’t, yer’ll get pains in yer little tum-tum.’
God bless her cotton socks, Molly thought, it doesn’t take much to amuse her. ‘I’m just nippin’ up to the corner shop, sunshine, I won’t be a minute.’
The doll quickly ceased to be Ruthie’s little darling and was flung unceremoniously on the floor. ‘Ah ray, Mam, I wanna come with yer.’
‘No sunshine, you stay right where yer are.’ Molly bustled to the door, keeping her head averted so she wouldn’t be swayed by the pleading eyes. ‘I’m only goin’ for a packet of tea an’ I’ll be back even before yer know I’ve gone.’
Molly stepped into the street and pulled the door to behind her. She was turning left to go up to the shop when she happened to glance down the street just as a man turned the corner. Even though it was dusk and there were no lamps lit, there was no mistaking that figure. After all, how many men were there who were six-foot-five tall and built like a battleship?
‘Corker!’ Her message forgotten, Molly waved frantically as she hastened towards the giant of a man who had his seaman’s bag slung over his shoulder and his peaked cap set at a jaunty angle. ‘Corker, when did yer dock?’
‘Hello, Molly me darlin’.’ Apart from his height, Jimmy Corkhill would stand out in any crowd. A colourful character with a big bushy beard and thick moustache, he was well liked by everyone and a local hero to the kids in the neighbourhood who had named him Sinbad. ‘It’s good to see yer, Molly, an’ ye’re still as pretty as ever.’ Corker lowered his bag to the ground and two hands the size of ham shanks circled Molly’s waist and lifted her off her feet. He planted a prickly kiss on her cheek before setting her down. ‘Jack and the kids all right, I hope?’
‘Yeah, they’re fine.’ Molly smiled at the gentle giant she counted as one of her best friends. ‘I can’t get over seein’ you! Yesterday Phil came home on two weeks’ leave, this mornin’ I was up with the larks to meet a young Irish girl who’s come to Liverpool to find work an’ is staying with me ma and da, and now you turn up!’ She shook her head as though she couldn’t keep track of events. ‘When did yer dock?’
‘This afternoon.’
‘Does yer ma an’ Ellen know ye’re home?’
‘I’ve just called into the shop to see Ellen.’ Corker grinned and his white teeth shone through the mass of hair around his mouth. ‘I’ll get a tickin’ off when I get home, though, me ma will have
me guts for garters. I rang the corner shop to ask Maisie to let the old girl know I was on me way, but that was three hours ago.’
‘Ooh ay, Corker, she’ll be worried to death! Where’ve yer been all this time?’
‘Don’t you start, Molly, ’cos I’m in for an ear-bashin’ when I get home.’ Corker’s chuckle was like the roar of a lion. ‘I let the lads talk me into goin’ for a pint and that was definitely a mistake. I’ve told yer about the pub where all the seamen meet, the White Star off Mathew Street? Well Alfie, who runs the place, gave us all a round of drinks on the house. Now we couldn’t leave without buyin’ him one back.’ His head thrown back, the big man roared with laughter. ‘The trouble was, there were five of us.’
Molly gasped. ‘Yer mean yer’ve had five pints?’
‘Six, including the one Alfie mugged us to.’
‘My God, it’s a wonder yer can walk straight!’
‘Molly, me darlin’, it’s a sailor ye’re talking to! Any seaman who can’t drink six pints and still walk a straight line is not worth his salt.’
‘I hope yer ma’s in a forgiving mood, ’cos she probably had a dinner ready for yer hours ago.’ Molly began to titter. ‘Corker, me imagination is runnin’ riot! I can just picture yer ma standin’ on a chair to box yer ears.’
‘No need for a chair, I’ll lift her up.’ Corker bent down and lifted his bag by the drawstrings. ‘I’d better get home before she has the police out lookin’ for me.’ He swung the bag effortlessly over his shoulder and grinned down at Molly. ‘What are you doin’ out without a coat on? Waitin’ for yer fancy man?’
‘I was on me way up to the shop, we’re a bit low on tea.’
Corker fell into step beside her. ‘I’ll be down later to take Ellen for a drink, so I’ll call in and see Jack an’ the kids. I’d like to see young Phil, too!’
