by Joan Jonker
‘Ay, ay!’ Nellie stepped into the street. ‘Come back here, you! Don’t yer be leavin’ me to do yer dirty work.’
‘I can’t stop now,’ Molly called over her shoulder as she hurried up the street. ‘Yer’ve kept me talkin’ long enough.’
She reached the corner where she would turn to get to her parents’ house, then looked back. Nellie was still standing on the pavement with her hands on her hips. When she saw Molly glance back, she clenched one of her fists and punched the air.
‘Oh dear,’ Molly chuckled, rounding the corner. ‘I’ll be in for it when I come home: there’ll be blue murder. She’ll be scrubbin’ hell out of the kitchen floor right now, pretending it’s my face.’
‘Are yer all right, Molly?’ one of the neighbours asked, giving Molly a strange look. ‘Feelin’ OK, are yer?’
‘I’m fine, Mrs Gibson, just havin’ a conversation with meself. Yer want to try it sometime … it’s the gear! D’yer know, I haven’t lost an argument with meself for donkey’s years.’
Molly could hear the laughter as she lifted the knocker. ‘Well, it sounds as though I’ve been worrying for nothing.’
Bob opened the door with a huge grin on his face and the signs of recent laughter tears. ‘You’re early, lass! Did yer smell the tea?’
The scene that met Molly was warm and welcoming. Smiling faces and a bright, cheering fire. It did her heart good to see her mother and father looking so content and happy.
‘Hello, Auntie Molly!’ Rosie’s bonny face beamed. ‘It’s grand to see yer, so it is.’
Molly slipped out of her coat and laid it on the arm of the couch. ‘Don’t I get a kiss?’
The girl was over like a shot to throw her arms around her. ‘It was in me mind, so it was, but I didn’t know if I’d be doin’ the right thing.’
‘Sure I enjoy a kiss as well as the next man, so I do.’ Molly’s Irish accent sent Rosie into peals of laughter. ‘Especially if it’s from the man next door.’
‘Hello, lass.’ Bridie lifted her face for a kiss. ‘Sit yerself down and get a warm.’
Molly sat on one of the straight wooden dining chairs and nodded her head at the tray on the table. ‘I could murder a cup of tea.’
‘I’ll get it, lass.’ Bob was halfway out of his chair when Rosie took him gently by the shoulders and sat him down again.
‘It’s meself that’ll be pouring Auntie Molly a cup of tea.’ The kiss that Rosie planted on his cheek brought a smile to Bob’s face and a tear to Molly’s eye. She didn’t have to worry – her ma and da were in good hands with this young girl. Her presence had already added something to the house, and Molly sought a word to describe it. She gazed at the familiar room and it looked as neat and tidy as it always did. There was always a decent fire in the grate, so it wasn’t that. No, she couldn’t explain it even to herself, but there was definitely something. ‘Here yer go, Auntie Molly.’
Molly looked up into Rosie’s smiling face and the word she’d been seeking hit her between the eyes. It was youth! Her ma had been right! Having a youngster in the house, full of vitality, made you feel younger yourself. And she could see it in the faces of her parents. Oh, how selfish she’d been to try and stop them adding this extra happiness to their lives! She above all should have known better, because what would her life be without her own children?
‘Did yer sleep well, Rosie?’
‘Oh, Auntie Molly, didn’t I sleep like an angel! Sure the bed was so soft it was like floating on a cloud in the heavens.’ The dark blue eyes clouded over for a second. ‘Sure I missed me mammy tuckin’ me into bed, so I did, but Auntie Bridget came in to kiss me goodnight an’ I was soon fast asleep.’
She’s so innocent, Molly thought, so young in the head for her age. But that was no bad thing. Some girls of today were old women before they were out of their teens.
Bridie had been watching Molly’s face and knew what her daughter was thinking. ‘Living on a farm miles from anywhere isn’t the same as living in a city, me darlin’. Working with animals can make yer very outspoken and worldly in the ways of nature, but it doesn’t always prepare yer for the pace or the social graces of life in a city.’
Bob chuckled. ‘Our Rosie can be very outspoken, Molly! She’s had yer ma’s hair standing on end a few times this morning.’
‘Oh ay, what’s she been saying?’
Bridie blushed with embarrassment. ‘For the life of me I can’t remember offhand.’
‘Oh, I can remember, Auntie Bridget!’ Rosie, her cheeks glowing and her beautiful eyes sparkling, was happy to oblige. ‘Sure wasn’t it about Farmer Murphy’s bull I was tellin’ yer? How it—’
‘That’s enough, Rosie me darlin’.’ Bridie’s face reddened. ‘Didn’t I warn yer to think about what yer were saying? Sure, people in the city know nothing about the behaviour of animals, an’ they’d not take kindly to hearing it from the lips of a young girl.’
Molly felt sorry for Rosie. It must be hard coming to a strange country and having to adjust to a new way of life. But looking at the bonny face, Molly knew she didn’t need to feel sorry. The smile and the look of innocence were still there. ‘Sure I’ll try and remember what yer told me, Auntie Bridget.’ Rosie’s lips parted and she stuck her tongue out. ‘This is the divil, an’ I’ll be keeping me eye on it in future, yer have me word on that.’
‘Don’t do that, sunshine,’ Molly laughed, ‘or yer’ll end up cross-eyed and we wouldn’t want that.’
Rosie’s laugh was music to the ears and her face a feast to the eyes. ‘Sure yer have a fine sense of humour, Auntie Molly, are yer sure ye’re not Irish?’
‘Ay, sunshine, don’t push yer luck! We Liverpudlians can match the Irish for humour any day.’
‘I’ll let yer off then, seein’ as ye’re half Irish.’ Rosie leaned her elbows on the table and cupped her face in her hands. ‘It’s good to laugh, isn’t it, Auntie Molly? Me mammy always says, “If ye’re wearing a smile, then ye’re always welcome, but if yer wear a frown nobody wants yer.”’
‘If yer like a laugh, sunshine, then Auntie Nellie’s the one.’ Molly hid a smile as a picture of Nellie shaking a fist at her flashed through her mind. ‘She’s been makin’ me laugh for over twenty years now.’
‘And does Auntie Nellie have to think before she says anything that might offend?’
From his seat on the couch, Bob let out a roar. ‘If Nellie had to think before she spoke, she’d never open her mouth!’
When Rosie looked puzzled, Molly touched her hand. ‘It’s like this, sunshine, it’s Auntie Nellie’s looks and her actions that make her so funny. Like just now, when I gave her a knock.’ Molly pushed her chair back. ‘I’ll show yer.’ First she described how Nellie looked, right down to her big toe sticking out of the old slipper. Then she related the conversation, changing voices as she changed characters. ‘An’ the last I heard was Nellie shoutin’, “Hey, come back here, you!”’
The loudest laughter came from Rosie. ‘Oh, wasn’t that the funniest thing altogether, Auntie Bridget?’
‘There’s plenty more me daughter could tell yer about Mrs McDonough,’ Bridie said. ‘Some of them not to be repeated in front of young girls. But I have to admit that Nellie, and Molly, have been blessed with a rare sense of humour. And with something much more precious, a true and lasting friendship.’
‘Oh ay, Ma! Don’t be goin’ all poetic on me!’
‘Now that was a nice thing Auntie Bridget said.’ Rosie looked very impressed. ‘And isn’t it the truth, though? As me mammy always says, “A friend in need is a friend indeed.”’
‘Your mammy has a lot of sayings, doesn’t she, sunshine?’
‘She has that, Auntie Molly.’ Rosie wagged a finger to invite Molly to lean closer. Then she said in a loud whisper, ‘But I think most of them would be included in the things I’m not supposed to say.’ She tapped her forehead. ‘I’ll have to be doing a lot of thinkin’ before I open me mouth, so I will.’
‘Rosie
O’Grady, ye’re a girl after me own heart.’ Molly stood up to plant a kiss on the rosy cheek. ‘An’ I think you and me mate are goin’ to get on famously.’ She reached for her coat. ‘I’ll have to be makin’ tracks, Ma, but I’ll see yer soon. It might not be tomorrow, ’cos me and Nellie are goin’ for the blackout material.’
‘We’re all right, me darlin’, yer’ve no need to worry about us. Give our love to Jack an’ the children.’
‘Tell Tommy I was askin’ after him, Auntie Molly,’ Rosie said, ‘an’ I’ll be round to see him soon.’
Molly was chuckling as she followed her father down the hall. If her son knew she was coming he’d be up and out like a shot.
Bob opened the door and stood aside to let her pass. ‘She’s everythin’ they said, isn’t she, lass?’
‘And more,’ Molly agreed. ‘You won’t go far wrong with Rosie.’ She put her foot out to step into the street, then drew it back. ‘By the way, what about Farmer Murphy’s bull, just in case Nellie asks?’
Bob shook his head. ‘Ask yer ma, but make sure ye’re alone when yer do.’
Molly was curious as she walked down the stairs after seeing Ruthie to bed. There’d been two knocks on the door while she’d been up there and although she’d strained her ears, she couldn’t recognize any voices. She stepped off the bottom stair, turned into the living room and froze with surprise. The room was jam-packed! Every chair was taken, the couch was full and, horror of horrors, the arms of the couch were being used as seats. ‘Ye gods, where have yez all come from? Are we havin’ a party an’ someone forgot to tell me?’
‘It’s you who forgot to tell anyone, an’ yer forgot on purpose.’ Nellie folded her arms and hitched up her bosom. She was seated by the table, oblivious to the fact that her legs were wide apart and everyone could see her stockings which were rolled down to her chubby knees and twisted around her elastic garters. ‘I said to George, she thinks we won’t find out. That’s what I said, didn’t I George?’ Without waiting for a reply from her long-suffering husband, Nellie went on, ‘Fancy a mate doin’ a thing like that! I’ve a good mind not to go to her party! Weren’t those my very words, George?’ To everyone’s amusement she banged on the table and glared at her husband. ‘George, will yer sit up straight when I’m talkin’ to yer an’ listen to what I’ve got to say?’
With the room ringing with laughter, Molly gazed around the happy faces and her heart swelled with pride. Doreen and Phil were sitting at the table holding hands, Jill and Steve sat opposite, their arms around each other’s waists, George was seated in Jack’s chair, Corker and Ellen were on the couch and Jack and Tommy were perched on its arms. But for once, Molly told herself to hell with the furniture. People were more important than ruddy pieces of wood. After all, a table wouldn’t listen to yer troubles, a chair wouldn’t tell you a joke and make you laugh, and the couch wouldn’t lend you a couple of bob when you were skint.
‘Aren’t you goin’ out, Doreen?’
Doreen shook her head. ‘We were goin’ to the dance, but we’ve changed our minds, haven’t we Phil?’
‘I wanted to see Mr Corkhill,’ Phil answered. ‘He went away so soon after the trouble, I didn’t get a chance to talk to him properly.’
‘What about you, Jill?’ Molly was mentally counting the number of cups and saucers she had that matched. Certainly not enough to go round this lot! ‘Are you an’ Steve goin’ out?’
It was Steve who answered. His dimples deepening in his handsome face, he smiled at Molly. ‘Ye’re on a loser, Mrs B., ’cos we’re staying in, too!’
Molly turned hopefully to Tommy. ‘You’re goin’ up to Ginger’s, aren’t yer, son?’
‘Nah, not tonight Mam, I’m havin’ a night in.’
Molly heard the loud creaking of a chair and she spun round to see Nellie shaking with laughter. ‘If you break that chair, Nellie McDonough, I’ll break yer ruddy neck!’
But once Nellie had a fit of the giggles there was no stopping her. ‘Ye’re stuck with the lot of us, girl,’ she wheezed, her chins moving in the opposite direction to her head. ‘Yer’d best give in gracefully and get the whisky an’ port out, an’ start making a pile of sarnies. Corned beef if yer’ve got any in – they’re me favourite.’
‘I’ll give yer a hand with the sandwiches, Molly,’ Ellen said quietly and in all seriousness. ‘I don’t mind, honest.’
‘What flamin’ sandwiches?’ Molly stood in the middle of the room with her hands on her hips. ‘I’ve got nowt in to feed this ruddy lot!’
‘Molly, girl, I don’t want to put yer to no trouble,’ Nellie said, her face the picture of innocence. ‘Yer know I’m not a fussy person, so if yer’ve no corned beef in, don’t worry, I’m not too proud to eat meat paste.’
Molly bent forward until their noses were nearly touching. ‘Yer know what you can do with yerself, don’t yer, Nellie McDonough? Yer can—’ Molly was silenced when Nellie put a hand across her mouth.
‘Now girl, just remember what ye’re always telling me. Don’t say anythin’ naughty in front of the children. An’ what you were about to tell me to do was not only naughty, it would have been physically impossible an’ ruddy painful!’
The floorboards and chairs creaked and the room shook with laughter. Corker was rocking as the tears rolled down his face to be soaked up by his thick, wide moustache. ‘D’yer know, I don’t half miss you two when I’m away. A good belly laugh is the best tonic yer can get.’
Jack caught George’s eye and winked. ‘Corker, me an’ George have been waitin’ for yer to come home to ask yer a question. Do they still have press gangs? You know, where men used to get knocked over the head and carted off to sea?’
Corker was quick to get the drift of where Jack’s question was leading. ‘Yeah, they still have them. Not like they used to, of course, but it isn’t unheard of. Why d’yer ask?’
‘We were just wonderin’, like, if there was any chance of gettin’ rid of our better halves for a couple of months.’
‘Ooh, ay! Wouldn’t that be the gear!’ Nellie leaned so far forward she almost toppled off the chair. But, undeterred and gripping the edge of the table for support, she went on, ‘They’d have no need to knock me over the ’ead, I’d go willingly! In fact, if Corker could see ’is way clear to get me a seaman’s outfit I’d go as a feller an’ nobody would know the difference.’
All eyes fastened on Nellie’s mountainous bosom. It was a while before Corker could trust himself to speak. ‘Nellie me darlin’, yer’d never get away with it. Yer see, yer’ve got a problem.’
‘No, Corker,’ Jack said, ‘she’s got two big problems.’
George, always so quiet, couldn’t resist. ‘And they’re only the ones yer can see.’
‘That’s enough now,’ Molly said, worried the conversation was getting out of hand in front of the young ones. ‘Let’s be serious for a minute. I don’t possess enough decent cups to go round an’ I haven’t a thing in to make sandwiches. So now yez know.’
‘Don’t be worryin’ yer pretty head, Molly,’ Corker said. ‘Me and the lads will go down to the pub and bring some bottles back. An’ while we’re doing that, the girls can run to the chippy for half a crown’s worth of chips with plenty of salt and vinegar on. So all you’ve got to do is butter some bread.’
Molly looked doubtful, remembering Corker’s capacity for beer. ‘And how many pints will yez have before yer come back? Don’t forget, some folk have to go to work tomorrow.’
Corker let out a loud guffaw. ‘Yer don’t trust me, do yer, Molly? Yer think I’m goin’ to lead them all astray.’
‘The thought had crossed me mind,’ Molly admitted. ‘Jack and George are old enough to know better, but I don’t want yer leading Steve an’ Phil into bad habits.’
‘Yer don’t need Phil to go with yer, do yer?’ Doreen didn’t want to lose a minute of their time together. ‘Or Steve?’
‘I want to go with them,’ Phil said, showing he had a mind of his own. ‘We’ll
just have the one pint, then come straight back.’
Corker glanced sideways at Ellen. ‘Do I have your permission, love?’
Blushing furiously at the public endearment, Ellen answered quietly, ‘Yer don’t need my permission … ye’re big an’ ugly enough to look after yerself.’
‘The same goes for my feller.’ Nellie nodded her head emphatically. ‘An’ I’m sure Jill has no objections to letting Steve out of her sight for half an hour … do him good to be in the company of men for a change.’
‘Of course I’ve no objections.’ Jill gave Steve that special look as she squeezed his waist. ‘As long as he doesn’t come rolling home.’
Corker raised a quizzical brow at Doreen, who, finding herself in a minority of one, and being afraid that Phil would go no matter what she said, gave in. She nodded her head and smiled at the big man they’d all called Uncle for as long as she could remember. ‘If he comes home drunk I’ll take the rollin’ pin to yer, Uncle Corker.’
Reaching for his peaked cap which was on the floor at his feet, Corker grinned. ‘Come on, lads, let’s get away from these nagging tongues for a bit of peace and some intelligent conversation.’ He looked up at Molly who was still standing in the middle of the room. ‘When we come back I want to hear all about the antics you an’ Nellie have been up to.’ The men were all standing now, except for Tommy, who was sitting on the arm of the couch looking dejected. Corker noted his glum face and after donning his cap he punched the boy lightly on the shoulder. ‘Sorry, son, but in another couple of years yer’ll be able to join us.’ Then the big man had an idea which brought a smile to Tommy’s face. ‘I’ll bring back a bottle of lemonade an’ yer can have a shandy. How about that?’
‘Yeah, great, Uncle Corker … thanks.’
Ah, he’s a good scout is Corker, Nellie thought. He thinks of everything, never leaves anyone out. ‘I’ll have some tales for yer when yer come back, Corker! I tell ’em better than me mate.’
Jack and George were halfway down the hall when Corker paused at the door, turned and pointed a finger at Nellie. ‘What was this me ma was tellin’ me about you an’ yer pink fleecy-lined knickers?’
