by Joan Jonker
‘It’ll come as no surprise to her, love, she’s not daft. I think she saw the way the wind was blowing a long time ago.’
Ellen pushed him away so she could look into his face. ‘Where do we go from here?’
‘I’ve only got three days’ leave, so we can’t get married until I come home again. We can get a special licence and get married at Brougham Terrace … unless yer want a church wedding?’
Ellen shook her head. ‘Brougham Terrace will suit me fine. I haven’t got the money to be buyin’ fancy clothes.’
Corker felt light-headed with relief. ‘I wouldn’t care if yer turned up wearing a sack. But there’s one thing I would like: I’d like us to spend our wedding night in a hotel.’
Ellen’s eyes widened in apprehension. ‘I’ve never been in a hotel in me life, Corker! I’d feel out of place!’
‘I’m not thinkin’ of takin’ yer to the Adelphi, love!’ Corker laughed at the expression on her face. ‘There’s a few little hotels in Mount Pleasant, one of those would be ideal.’
Ellen wasn’t keen on the idea, but she could sense his excitement and didn’t want to put a damper on it. Besides, she had to admit she’d feel awkward with the kids, if they simply came home. ‘OK, you win. I’ll ask Jill to sleep here that night, save me worrying about leaving Phoebe in charge. But don’t always expect to get yer own way, Jimmy Corkhill, or yer’ll be in for a disappointment.’
Corker chuckled. ‘I can see I’m goin’ to have me hands full with you! Yer can be a real little spitfire when yer want.’
Corker’s happiness was overshadowed the next day with the news that Holland had capitulated. He’d been expecting it, but it still came as a shock. In his mind it spelled disaster for Britain and her allies, but he kept his fears to himself. Ellen didn’t understand much about the strategy of war; wouldn’t know one country from another if you showed her a map. And she’d come in from work with such a smile on her face, he wasn’t going to wipe it away by discussing bad news.
He’d eaten with his mother, so he sat quietly with his thoughts until Ellen and the children had finished their meal and the dishes were washed. Then he gathered the children round him. They were expecting a fairy story, and were surprised when he held out his hand to their mam and said, ‘Come and sit next to me, love, and we’ll tell them together.’
Slowly, and with great understanding and compassion, he explained about their father dying. There was no reaction to that news, no cries of surprise or sadness … nothing. The children didn’t even look at each other, they kept their eyes glued to his face. He paused for a while, then went on: ‘I have loved your mam for a long time, and now I love every one of you. So how do you feel about me and yer mam gettin’ married, and you having me for a dad?’
As Ellen was to tell Molly later, she thought the roof was going to come down with all the shouting and cheering. All four of them tried to get close to Uncle Corker – or Sinbad, as they used to call him. Kisses were rained on his face, even by the two boys, Peter and Gordon. They’d have a dad they could be proud of, and be the envy of every kid in the neighbourhood.
‘I think you’ve got yer answer,’ Ellen said, her new-found happiness making her look like a young girl. The young girl Corker had fallen in love with all those years ago.
Ginger was in a quandary. How could he ask Rosie for a date when the only time he ever saw her was at Tommy’s house? And it was no good asking his friend to help – he’d be told to take a running jump. He thought about calling on her, but quickly discarded that idea. I mean, what would he say if Mrs Jackson opened the door? He’d die on the spot! No, he’d have to try and bump into her accidentally on purpose. She came round to the Bennetts’ most nights, so he’d lie in wait for her. So it was that Ginger, on cue, walked out of the entry just as Rosie turned the corner. He’d been hanging around for half an hour, but she wasn’t to know that.
‘Hiya, Rosie!’
Rosie turned, a ready smile on her face. ‘Hello, Ginger! Off out, are yer?’
‘I’m goin’ to the corner shop for some ciggies for me dad,’ Ginger lied. ‘It’s a nice night, isn’t it?’
‘Ay, it is that, Ginger! It’s a pity the people in the world aren’t as nice as the weather.’
‘Oh, yer mean about Holland havin’ to give in? Yeah, things look bad, don’t they?’
‘They do indeed.’ They were outside the corner shop and Rosie went to walk on. ‘I’ll see yer, Ginger!’
‘Wait a minute, Rosie, I want to ask yer somethin’.’
Rosie turned back. ‘Yes, what is it, Ginger?’
Beetroot was pale in comparison to the colour of Ginger’s freckled face. His bottle was gone, and it was only the sight of Rosie’s pretty face that stopped him running away. ‘Would, er, would yer like to come to the pictures with us one night?’
Rosie was taken aback. ‘Yer mean with you and Tommy?’
‘No, just with me. We could go to the first house and I’d get yer home early.’
‘Oh, Ginger, I thank yer kindly, that I do! But yer see, I have a boyfriend an’ I don’t think he’d be keen on me goin’ out with another boy.’
Ginger’s mouth gaped. ‘Yer’ve got a boyfriend?’
‘I have that, Ginger! And very nice he is, too!’
‘Oh, well, it was worth a try.’ Ginger tried to sound cocky as his thoughts raced on a fast track. Did Tommy know she had a boyfriend, and hadn’t let on? If he did, it was a lousy trick. ‘If Tommy’s in, will yer ask him to slip up to ours for five minutes? There’s somethin’ I want to ask him.’
‘Sure I’ll do that, all right, Ginger. Goodnight to yer.’
There was a smile on Rosie’s face as she walked down to the Bennetts’ house. That should give Tommy something to think about. Auntie Bridget would be proud of her.
The object of her affections was just finishing his tea. She greeted everyone, and then, as though it was an afterthought, she passed Ginger’s message on.
A frown creased Tommy’s face. ‘Did he say what he wanted me for?’
‘He did not! An’ sure, I wasn’t interested enough to ask him.’
Molly winked across at Jack. She had informed him about Rosie’s change of tactics and now he was seeing it in action.
‘I’ll go up an’ see what he wants.’ Tommy was intrigued. If Ginger had asked her for a date, she wasn’t giving anything away.
Ginger was waiting for Tommy to pass the window, and he dashed down the hall and had the door open in a flash. Stepping into the street, he squared up to his friend. ‘You’re a fine one, you are!’
‘What have I done?’
‘Yer let me make a fool of meself, that’s what yer’ve done! Yer must ’ave known Rosie had a boyfriend, yet yer didn’t say a word. I felt a right ruddy fool!’
‘Ginger, yer don’t need my help to make a fool of yerself, ye’re quite capable of doin’ that on yer own. I warned yer not to ask her, but yer wouldn’t listen!’
‘I wouldn’t have done if I’d known she already had a boyfriend.’ Ginger was still smarting. ‘An’ you must ’ave known.’
‘How the hell would I know?’ Tommy was feeling a bit guilty, the memory of his birthday party coming back to him, but he was getting his temper up too. He hadn’t done a thing wrong but was getting the blame! And wouldn’t you know, once again Rosie O’Grady was the cause of it! ‘I don’t know what she gets up to, an’ I don’t ruddy well care! She might have ten boyfriends for all I know … so what?’
‘I can’t believe that if she’s got a boyfriend, you an’ yer mam wouldn’t know about it! She must talk about him, where they go, what his name is.’ Ginger was becoming deflated. Either his mate was a ruddy good actor or he was telling the truth. ‘I mean, someone must have seen him, unless he’s the Invisible Man.’
All the things Ginger was saying, Tommy was thinking. It was queer when you came to think about it. No one in the family had mentioned it, not even his nan, and if anyone knew, she would! Yet this was th
e second time Rosie had turned down a date saying she already had a boyfriend. Seemed a bit fishy when you thought about it. But whichever way it went, it was no skin off his nose. It wasn’t his worry, and he certainly wouldn’t lose any sleep over it.
‘Look, Ginger, just leave me out of it, all right? Yer got yer eye wiped, it was yer own doing, and that’s all there is to it.’ Tommy had had enough. ‘Uncle Corker’s comin’ to ours, so I’d better get back. I’ll see yer Saturday, if not before. OK?’
‘Yeah, OK, Tommy.’ Ginger punched his friend on the arm. ‘We’ll go to the Carlton, like we said. Ta-ra.’
Chapter Twenty-Four
‘You’re late today! The kettle’s been boiled about three times.’ Molly closed the door after her friend. ‘What kept yer?’
‘The ruddy wireless, that’s what kept me.’ Nellie’s turban had slid down to her eyebrows, and she pushed it back impatiently as she waddled down the hall and into the living room. Pulling a chair from beneath the table she sat down heavily. ‘The news is not half bad, yer know, girl. Those ruddy Germans are just pushing ahead all over the place.’
‘I know,’ Molly said, shaking her head. ‘Jack had the wireless on while he was havin’ his breakfast, an’ his face was like thunder. Yer should have heard the names he was callin’ Hitler. And poor Mr Chamberlain didn’t come off much better; he got the blame for everything. Jack called him all the weak so-and-so’s under the sun.’
‘Jack’s right, girl, my George said last year that Chamberlain wasn’t the man for the job.’
‘He wasn’t a bad man, though, Nellie, an’ I felt sorry for him. His only mistake was trusting Hitler when he shouldn’t have done.’
‘Well we’ve got Mr Churchill now, thank God. He’s a different kettle of fish, and no one will pull the wool over his eyes.’ Nellie jerked her head towards the kitchen. ‘Where’s that cuppa, girl? Me mouth’s as dry as sawdust.’
Molly waited until she had poured the tea before asking, ‘What did it say on the wireless?’
‘I can’t remember it all, yer know what big words those fellers use. An’ they speak as though they’ve got a mouthful of plums. But from what I could gather, the German forces have pushed forward and reached the sea. Now what sea that is, I haven’t a clue. But from the sound of it our troops, with some French and Belgian, are trapped and ready to retreat. Now how they can retreat if they’re trapped, is somethin’ else I don’t understand. But yer know me, I’m as thick as two short planks and probably didn’t hear what he said proper.’
‘Oh, dear God! I hope Phil’s all right! Did they say whether any soldiers had been killed?’
Nellie had no intention of being the bearer of any more bad news, so she shook her head. ‘I couldn’t tell yer, girl, me heart was in me mouth an’ I missed half of what he said.’
‘What a flamin’ life!’ Molly felt a knot of fear in her tummy. ‘I slipped over to see Miss Clegg earlier, and she’d been listenin’ to the wireless an’ all. She’s in a terrible state over Phil, worryin’ herself sick. If anythin’ happened to him it would be the end of her. Our Doreen went to sit with her last night, and when she came back yer could see she’d been crying.’
‘I might have got it wrong, girl, so why don’t yer put the wireless on an’ we can listen while we’re havin’ our tea?’
Molly shook her head vigorously. ‘Nellie, I’m not puttin’ it on until my Jack comes in. I feel bad enough as it is, with me tummy all wound up and me head splittin’.’
‘Then let’s change the subject, eh, girl? Forget about the war for a while an’ talk about somethin’ nice.’
‘Can you think of anythin’ nice, ’cos I can’t!’
‘Well we can talk about Ellen an’ Corker gettin’ married,’ Nellie said. ‘I still can’t believe it, I never thought it would come off.’
‘Oh, I did! I never expected it to be quite so soon, mind you, but it comes as no surprise.’ Molly refilled the cups and stood the pot back on its stand. ‘I’m made up for them, they both deserve a bit of happiness.’
‘Oh, I’m not sayin’ they don’t, girl, an’ I’m made up for them too! But with Corker sayin’ he’s still goin’ to be staying with his ma, he’s goin’ to have his work cut out. He can’t be in two places at the same time, unless he chops himself in half.’ A grin crossed Nellie’s face. ‘Mind you, he’d make two men, would Corker.’
‘They’ll manage all right,’ Molly said. ‘With Ellen at work all day, he can spend that time with his ma.’
‘The way I heard it, girl, he intends sleepin’ at home! I mean, if he does that, how are they goin’ to … er … going to … oh, you know what I’m gettin’ at!’
Molly looked all innocent. ‘I don’t know what ye’re gettin’ at, sunshine, so spell it out for me.’
Nellie tutted, her chins quivering. ‘Playin’ silly beggars, are yer? Right, well I’ll tell yer. When a man an’ a woman get married, they go to bed together to conta … consam … oh, what’s the ruddy word I’m lookin’ for? It’s on the end of me tongue but I can’t get it out.’
‘The word is consummate, Nellie.’
‘That’s it, I knew it all the time!’ Nellie folded her arms and pushed her bosom up. ‘Well now, how are they goin’ to do what you’ve just said, you know, that big word?’
Good, Molly thought. Here’s my chance to pull her leg and get my own back on her. So, feeling pleased with herself and keeping a straight face, she said, ‘What usually happens, Nellie, is that the woman lies on the bed looking all innocent and coy, and the man gets on top of her.’
Nellie banged her fist on the table. ‘Oh, God, girl, I remember now! D’yer know it’s been that long I’d forgotten?’ She leaned forward, her face eager. ‘I’m all ears, so remind me what happens next.’
Molly tuned. Once again the tables had been turned on her. ‘If your George could hear you now, he’d be ashamed of yer.’
‘But don’t yer see it’s for his sake I’m askin’ yer! You remind me how it’s done, an’ I’ll remind him! See, yer’d be doin’ us both a great big favour.’
‘Nellie McDonough, the older yer get, the worse yer get! Honest, yer’d make a saint blush, you would.’
‘You’re no saint, girl, so I don’t know why you’re blushin’, ’cos there’s only you an’ me here! An’ I’m not goin’ to tell anyone what yer said about the woman lying on the bed an’ the man gettin’ on top. Only George, of course, I’ve got to tell him.’
‘You’ll do no such thing, Nellie McDonough, or I’ll break yer ruddy neck for yer! He’ll think I’m sex-mad!’
‘Nah, he wouldn’t think that! He might see yer in a new light and start lookin’ sideways at yer, but that’s all. He’s harmless, is George … too bloody harmless for my liking.’
‘Nellie, can we change the subject, please? How we ever got from Ellen and Corker gettin’ married to your George lookin’ sideways at me, I’ll never know!’
‘OK, girl, I think I’ve milked that for all it’s worth now, anyway! So we’ll talk about somethin’ that won’t make yer blush. Are yer buyin’ a new coat for the weddin’?’
Molly shook her head. ‘Not likely! We won’t need a coat in the middle of summer!’
‘It’s not the middle of summer yet, it’s only spring!’
‘Nellie, don’t start that again, for God’s sake! It’s not far off the end of May now, so by the time Corker gets back off his next trip it’ll be summer … OK?’
‘All right, don’t lose yer rag!’ Nellie pulled a comical face. ‘I only asked if yer were buying a new coat.’
‘And I said no! I’ve asked our Doreen to run me a dress up, and she’s making Jill and Ruthie one.’
‘I couldn’t go in a dress, not with my figure. Once around me, twice around the gasworks.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with yer figure,’ Molly said. She wasn’t having anyone running Nellie down … not even Nellie herself! ‘I bet our Doreen could make yer a dress, and she could do yer a little
jacket to go with it. Yer’d look proper posh.’
‘D’yer mean a jacket of the same material?’ Nellie was beginning to show interest. ‘That would look nice, girl! If Doreen could do it, I’d be over the moon. A little jacket would hide me biggest problem … or should I say problems, seein’ as how I’ve got two of them?’
‘Of course she—’ Molly broke off at the sound of the front knocker. ‘I wonder who this is?’
‘Probably the rag-and-bone man again,’ Nellie shouted after her. ‘Tell him not to bother knockin’ at ours ’cos the only rags I possess are on me flamin’ back.’
‘Oh dear!’ Molly’s hand went to her mouth, immediately thinking the worst when she saw Ruthie with Miss Devereux, a teacher at the school. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘It’s nothing to worry about, Mrs Bennett.’ The teacher had her arm across the girl’s shoulders. ‘Ruth fell in the playground and has cut her leg.’
It was then Molly noticed the bandage. ‘Has she been to the hospital? Is it bad?’
‘No, it’s badly grazed and there are a few small cuts, but nothing serious. I have cleaned it up as best I can, but there are small stones in the playground and I thought it best to bring her home so you could clean it properly and put some antiseptic cream on.’
Molly opened the door wide. ‘Will you come in, Miss Devereux?’
‘No, I’ll have to get back to my class.’ The teacher put a hand under Ruthie’s chin and smiled down into her face. ‘I hope you feel well enough to come to school tomorrow, young lady.’
Ruthie’s lip quivered. ‘Yes, Miss.’
‘Thanks for bringin’ her home, I appreciate it.’ Molly held out her hand and her daughter gripped it. Like a wounded soldier she hobbled up the step and limped down the hall, hanging on to the wall for support. ‘She’s goin’ to lap this up,’ Molly said, laughing. ‘She’ll have us all running around after her.’
‘It must be sore,’ Miss Devereux said, preparing to depart, ‘so perhaps a bit of pampering won’t go amiss.’
