MB03 - Sweet Rosie O’Grady

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MB03 - Sweet Rosie O’Grady Page 15

by Joan Jonker


  ‘What is?’ Doreen asked as she slipped her hand through Phil’s arm. ‘What is the understatement of the year?’

  ‘That it takes yer a long time just to put yer coat in the cloakroom.’ Phil squeezed her arm. ‘Yer’ve been gone ten minutes!’

  ‘We had to change into our dancing shoes an’ comb our hair.’ Doreen was so excited she felt as though there were a hundred butterflies in her tummy. ‘Yer want us to look nice, don’t yer?’

  ‘Yer look good enough to eat.’

  The dance floor was crowded with couples turning to the strains of a waltz. The lights were low and there was romance in the air. Phil couldn’t wait to get on the floor and hold Doreen in his arms. ‘D’yer want to dance, love?’

  Doreen shook her head. ‘I told Mo I’d see her near the stage so we’d better go and find her. And I’ll have to find a chair to put me handbag under.’

  Maureen saw them before they saw her. She noticed heads turning as they made their way through the crowd. Even in the dim light you couldn’t miss the two tall, handsome men and their lovely companions. She turned to Sammy, saying, ‘I thought Phil would be in his uniform.’

  ‘Give the lad a break, he’s probably glad to get out of it.’ Sammy now accepted that his friend Mike had never stood a chance with Doreen. Even before Phil came on the scene she wasn’t interested in his friend in the romantic sense. It was the same with Maureen. Sammy was nuts about her, but the feeling wasn’t mutual. She treated him like a brother.

  Phil’s pleasure at seeing Maureen was genuine as he pumped her hand up and down. ‘Hiya, Mo, it’s great to see yer.’

  Maureen’s heart skipped a beat. Apart from being the most handsome lad she’d ever seen, he had a nice nature to go with it. She could really fall for him in a big way. An unexpected wave of jealousy consumed her. It wasn’t a case of she could fall for him – she had fallen for him, hook, line and sinker! Oh, why hadn’t he seen her before he set eyes on Doreen? ‘You look terrific, army life must suit yer.’

  ‘That’s debatable.’ Phil grinned before turning to Sammy with his hand outstretched. ‘Good to see yer, Sammy.’

  ‘Yeah, you too, Phil.’ Sammy was puzzled and a little sad. He’d been watching Maureen’s face as she gazed up at Phil, and the expression he’d seen there had set him thinking. Surely to God she hadn’t fallen for the bloke? He shook his head to clear his mind, telling himself he was imagining things. Maureen was too level-headed to fall for her mate’s boyfriend, knowing she didn’t stand a snowball in hell’s chance of getting anywhere with him.

  After Jill and Steve had exchanged greetings, the six young people stood chatting until the band struck up with a slow foxtrot. This was the moment Phil had been waiting for. ‘Shall we?’

  ‘Oh yes, please!’ Doreen took his hand. They were one of the first couples on the floor and Phil quickly took advantage of the space afforded them. Their bodies close, they moved in time to the music with an ease and grace that had onlookers gazing in appreciation. Many couples on their way to the dance floor stood to watch in admiration, for it wasn’t often one got to see such perfection. The two bodies moved as one, rising and falling, spinning and twirling, and all the while there were smiles on the two faces that told of their pleasure in dancing and their happiness at being together.

  Jill watched, wide-eyed. ‘They are absolutely brilliant! Oh, how I wish me mam and dad could see them, they’d be so proud.’

  ‘Well they’ve put me off for life!’ Steve chuckled. ‘I’m not getting on the floor to make an exhibition of meself.’

  ‘Don’t be daft!’ Maureen said. ‘Not everyone can dance like those two! I’ll tell yer what, I’ll take you and Sammy can take Jill. Once yer’ve been on the floor and got a bit of confidence, yer’ll be all right.’

  Jill didn’t look too happy, but Sammy didn’t give her a chance to refuse. He took her hand and pulled her towards the dance floor, followed by Maureen and a very reluctant Steve.

  The music came to an end but Doreen and Phil stayed on the floor waiting for the band to strike up with the second slow foxtrot. ‘Oh, look,’ Doreen said, pointing, ‘our kid’s been dancing with Sammy an’ Mo’s got Steve up! Well, wonders will never cease!’

  ‘Never mind them, let’s talk about us.’ Phil still had his arm around her waist. ‘We didn’t get much time to ourselves last night with Aunt Vicky staying up so late.’

  The piano player struck a chord to lead the band into the next dance and Phil pulled Doreen to him. Waiting for the right beat, he looked down into her face. ‘Are yer definitely my girl?’

  ‘Of course I am! I wrote to yer every day while yer were away, didn’t I?’

  ‘I’m serious, Doreen! I want to know if I’m yer steady boyfriend.’ Phil tapped a toe to feel the rhythm before moving forward with long strides. He negotiated a turn, then went on. ‘What I’m really getting at is will yer be going out with other blokes while I’m away?’

  ‘I’ve never been out with a bloke before you … not on a date, anyway. When me an’ Maureen go out in a foursome with Mike an’ Sammy, it isn’t really a date.’ Doreen lifted a hand from his shoulder to give Jill the thumbs-up sign. ‘We always pay for ourselves and we meet them inside the hall.’

  ‘That doesn’t answer my question, Doreen. Are you as serious about me as I am about you?’

  If he could hear my heart pounding he wouldn’t have to ask that question, Doreen thought. I’m so happy I feel light-headed, and no one else but him could do that to me. She would like to tell him these things but was too inexperienced to find the right words. Perhaps when they were alone together some time the right words would come naturally, like her mam said, but right now she didn’t know how to express her emotions.

  The long silence brought a touch of fear to Phil’s heart. He waited until they reached a corner of the dance floor, out of the way of the other dancers, then stopped and held her away from him. ‘I take it you’re not serious about me, then?’

  Doreen looked stunned. ‘Oh, I am! I am! I want to be your girlfriend for ever.’

  Phil sighed as he pulled her back into his arms, mindless of the curious stares coming their way. The cloud had lifted and he was happy again. ‘I’m crazy about yer, Doreen, so don’t frighten me like that again, please?’

  When the dance was over they returned to the corner where Jill and Steve were sitting, feeling quite pleased with their progress. They were determined to get up for the next dance even if they only managed to shuffle along. Jill’s pretty face was animated as she thanked Sammy for putting up with her. ‘I’m sorry about your broken toes, Sammy, but I really enjoyed myself.’

  Sammy’s eyes travelled over each of the three girls’ faces. Maureen’s dark colouring was in sharp contrast to the fairness of the two sisters, but she was just as pretty. In fact, anyone would be hard put to choose which one of the three was the nicest-looking.

  For the rest of the night Sammy and Steve swapped partners for every other dance, but Phil stuck like glue to Doreen. Even in an ‘excuse-me’, when someone tried to cut in, he refused to part. Doreen’s face was the colour of beetroot as he explained to the young man that he hadn’t seen his girlfriend in months because he was in the army, and he knew he would understand him wanting her all to himself.

  It was a happy group that emerged from Barlow’s Lane dance hall, and they laughed and joked as they waited for a tram. Sammy was happy to be included because it meant being paired off with Maureen, and who knew? One of these days she might start to see him in a different light. And he’d have her on her own for a short while tonight because they both lived down Scotland Road, several stops after the others got off. And of course he would walk her to her door, see that she got home safely. That was the least a bloke could do. And if the bloke could pluck up the courage, he might even try stealing a kiss. But when the tram shuddered to a halt and they all ran upstairs to claim the back seat, Sammy told himself not to push his luck.

  Chapter Twelve


  Corker waited until his mother was ready for her afternoon snooze in front of the fire before saying he’d nip down and see Miss Clegg, in case he didn’t get another chance before he went away. And he wanted to see Phil, too: he hadn’t seen much of the lad while they’d been home. ‘I won’t stay long, Ma, just half an hour or so.’

  ‘Don’t hurry back, yer needn’t worry about me.’

  ‘Of course I worry about yer! Aren’t yer the best mother in the whole wide world?’

  ‘Oh, away with yer, an’ leave me in peace for a while.’ Mrs Corkhill’s eyes were filled with love for this gentle giant who was her adored son. ‘I’ll pop the apple pie in the oven about four o’clock, so don’t be too late.’

  ‘Mmm, me mouth’s watering already.’ Corker pulled his reefer jacket on, planted a kiss on the upturned face and went out of the door whistling a sea shanty.

  It was Phil who answered his knock, and his smile was one of pleasure. ‘Come on in, Mr Corkhill, it’s nice to see yer.’

  ‘Thought I’d show me face in case Miss Clegg thinks I’ve fallen out with her.’ Corker took off his cap as he entered the room and ran a hand over his thick mop of hair. ‘D’yer know, Victoria, I’ll swear yer get younger every time I see yer.’ He bent to kiss the lined face. ‘I like yer hairstyle, and those earrings look a treat.’

  ‘I’ve got Doreen to thank for the way I look – she keeps me in trim.’ The old lady smiled as she waved Corker to a chair. ‘She’ll have me wearing lipstick next.’

  ‘More power to her elbow, ’cos yer look ten years younger.’ Corker laid his cap between his feet. He was about to say the young ones had everything going for them these days, then he remembered there was a war on and it was the young ones who would have the most to lose. ‘Or is it because me laddo’s home that ye’re looking so pleased with yerself?’

  Victoria nodded. ‘It’s lovely to have Phil home, the place hasn’t been the same without him.’

  Phil blushed. ‘Yer won’t be saying that when I’m home for good. Yer’ll be sick of the sight of me.’

  Corker lit one of his Capstan Full Strength and stretched his long legs out. ‘When d’yer go back, son?’

  ‘I’ve got to report for duty on Monday morning, so I’ll have to get the overnight train from Lime Street on Sunday.’ Phil pulled a face. ‘Two weeks seemed a long time when it started, but it’s not half goin’ over quick.’

  ‘Well, with a bit of luck yer may get another furlough before yer posting comes through.’

  Phil shrugged his shoulders. ‘Who knows? I read in the paper that we’ve got over a hundred and fifty thousand troops in France, so I’ve got a feeling we’ll be shipped out there when our training’s finished.’ He saw his aunt Vicky’s brow crease in a frown and wished he could take the words back. She’d been so happy since he’d been home, and they’d talked for hours on end. She’d reminisced about the days when she was young and her parents had been alive, and he’d told her of his hopes of getting a decent job when he came out of the army. Now, without thinking, he’d given her something to worry about and it grieved him. So he put on a happy smile and said cheerfully, ‘But then again, for all we know the war could be over any time.’

  Corker read his thoughts and kept quiet. He had his own views on the war and in his opinion it wasn’t going to be over soon – not by a long chalk it wasn’t! You saw a lot when the ship you were on was carrying cargo to the small countries where Hitler had his troops massed at the borders. They didn’t stand a chance, those places, not against the might of Germany, and he could foresee the time when Britain would be standing alone. No, it was going to be a long and bloody war, and young lads like Phil were going to be in the thick of it. They weren’t considered men until they were twenty-one, when they could earn a decent wage and have a vote on who should run the country. But come a war, then they were seen to be old enough to take up arms and fight for their country.

  Corker stroked his beard and sighed inwardly as he gazed at Phil. He was a nice lad, clean-cut with an open, honest face. And he had a sensible head on his shoulders, too! ‘I’ve got to report back to me ship on Sunday, an’ if the loading has gone according to plan, we’ll be sailing with the early tide on Monday. But I should be home again in a couple of weeks, ’cos I’ve asked for short trips on compassionate grounds. Me ma’s gettin’ on in years an’ each time I come home I can see a difference in her. She’s slowing down, getting more frail. So I don’t want to be away from home for too long.’

  ‘Molly and Nellie keep their eye on her, so you’ve no need to worry on that score,’ Victoria said, wanting to relieve his anxiety. ‘They go up every day, hail, rain or shine to make sure she’s all right and got enough food in.’

  ‘I know, I’d be lost without them. And they do more than just see she’s all right for food; they cheer her up. She said they do her more good than a dose of Andrews’.’

  Victoria tittered. ‘I know what she means! I used to love going to the pictures, and was miserable when I got too old to go out on me own. But when Molly and Nellie start acting the goat, I get more laughs out of them than I ever did out of Charlie Chaplin or Buster Keaton.’

  ‘You should be with us when we go to the pub – Nellie has the place up!’ Corker’s guffaw boomed. ‘An’ the funniest part about it is George! He sits there watchin’ his wife, and while the whole pub is roaring at her antics, he quietly sips his beer without even crackin’ his face! They say God makes them and matches them – well He matched those two perfectly.’

  ‘Mr McDonough was singing along with everyone last Saturday night.’ Phil smiled at the memory. He would never forget one minute of that day: it would always go down as one of the best in his life. ‘By the way, did yer get any complaints from the neighbours? We made enough noise to wake the whole street.’

  Corker pulled on an ear lobe, grinning. ‘Not a dickie bird, son, not a dickie bird. Mind you, would you complain to Nellie?’

  ‘I’d think twice about it,’ Phil laughed. ‘I suppose yer’ll all be there again this Saturday?’

  ‘On me last night? Most definitely! It’s a pity yer can’t come with us, ’cos yer’d enjoy it.’

  ‘I’d love to come, but Doreen wouldn’t be allowed in. It would have been great though, all getting together for a drink on our last night home.’

  ‘Yeah, ’cos God knows when we’ll see each other again.’ Corker shivered as though someone had walked over his grave. When things started hotting up, and he was in no doubt that they would, it wouldn’t be a case of saying when we see each other again, but if we ever see each other again. Bloody war!

  Smiling at Phil, Corker made an effort to banish his dark thoughts. ‘I’ll tell yer what, son, we’ll have that drink together, I promise yer. I’ll try and sweet-talk Molly into having a party at her house again. That way we can all be together and have a real knees-up, jars out, on our last night. An’ I’m sure Victoria here would like that, wouldn’t yer, me darlin’?’

  ‘I’d love it, but I don’t think Molly would be too happy.’

  ‘I’ll turn me charm on her.’ Once again Corker’s loud guffaw ricocheted off the walls. ‘If that doesn’t do the trick, I’ll have to call up the reserves … Nellie.’

  Molly held her tummy in as she slipped sideways through the half-door of the corner shop. ‘Top of the morning, Mr and Mrs Porter!’ She grinned when she saw Maisie and Alec doubled under the weight of a sack of potatoes they were carrying between them. ‘Funny what some people will do to earn money.’

  ‘Funny isn’t the right word, Molly.’ Alec gave his wife a nod and they swung the sack gently back and forth before dropping it on the floor behind the counter. ‘It’s ruddy hard work, an’ believe me we earn every penny.’

  Maisie nodded towards the door. ‘Has yer mate got a cob on with yer?’

  Molly turned to see Nellie standing in the street outside. ‘What the hell are yer standin’ there for, missus? Get yerself in here, quick. You nagged me into havin’ thi
s party, said yer’d help with all the runnin’ around, so yer can flaming well have half the worry.’

  Nellie spread her hands, a pained expression on her chubby face. ‘Girl, I’m wantin’ to come in, I’m ready to come in, an’ if someone will undo the bolts on the other half of this ruddy door, I’ll come in!’

  ‘Oh, yer poor thing!’ Molly stood on tiptoe to reach the top bolt on the hinged part of the door that Maisie always kept shut to keep the cold out. ‘Get yerself inside.’

  Nellie swept in majestically. ‘Have that door seen to, will you, Alec?’ A haughty look accompanied her exaggerated posh voice. ‘Hit’s han hinconvenience to your customers what help you hearn ha living.’

  Maisie took a fit of the giggles. These two were a definite improvement on lugging spuds around. ‘Nellie, you’re the only one who ever complains about the door! I’m sure yer could get through if yer put yer mind to it and really tried.’

  Nellie waited until Molly had shot the bolt back home, then pointed to the narrow space afforded by the half-door. ‘Lookin’ at the width of that, and then at the width of me, yer still think I should be able to get through it?’

  Maisie nodded. ‘It might be a bit of a squeeze, but yeah, I think yer should be able to get through it all right.’

  ‘Nah, dopey-drawers, it’s an … erm, an … erm.’ Nellie tapped a podgy finger on the top layer of her chins, her eyes closed as though deep in concentration. Then she looked at Molly. ‘What’s the word I’m lookin’ for, girl? You know, when yer think somethin’ will fit but it won’t?’

  ‘D’yer mean an optical illusion?’

  ‘That’s it, girl!’ Nellie beamed all round. ‘On the tip of me tongue it was, but it wouldn’t come out.’ She raised her eyebrows at Maisie. ‘If yer don’t know what it means, ’cos yer haven’t got a clever mate like mine, I’ll tell yer. It means yer want yer eyes testin’, ’cos yer must be ruddy cock-eyed!’ She smiled sweetly at Molly. ‘Isn’t that a good explanation, girl?’

 

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