MB03 - Sweet Rosie O’Grady

by Joan Jonker

  ‘When your country or countrymen are at risk, son, then that’s when patriotism shows. When there’s no war on, yer never think about whether yer love yer country or not, but when anybody threatens it, then yer realize what it means to yer.’ Jack knew Molly was watching, but his nerves were at breaking-point so he chanced her anger and lit another cigarette. ‘I don’t think there’s many men in this country, no matter how old they are, who, given the chance, wouldn’t have joined the men on those boats. I know I would.’

  ‘Yer dad’s right, son,’ Molly said. ‘War’s a terrible thing, but it don’t half bring out the best in people. I remember the last war, and how everyone stuck together through thick and thin and helped each other.’

  ‘If the war’s still on when I’m eighteen, Mam, I’m definitely goin’ to join up.’

  ‘Over my dead body!’ Molly flared. ‘You ain’t going anywhere, sunshine, so get that into yer head.’

  ‘Will you two stop arguing?’ Jack said. ‘Time to get the boxing gloves out when he’s eighteen.’

  ‘Ay, ye’re right, love, there’s more important things to worry about.’ Molly brushed a stray hair from her eyes. ‘I hope to God Phil’s all right. How long d’yer think it’ll be before we hear anything?’

  ‘You heard what the man on the wireless said, it’ll be a few weeks before they know anything for certain. Don’t forget, the evacuation is still going on. It’s goin’ to be some job finding out who’s dead, who’s missing and who’s alive. An’ it’s not only our lads, there were soldiers from France and Belgium fightin’ alongside of them.’ He sighed as he watched the smoke from his cigarette waft up to the ceiling. ‘It’s a right bloody mess an’ someone’s got to take responsibility for our lads being stranded on open beaches … easy targets for the blasted Germans to just pick them off at leisure. I’m so flaming mad I could strangle Hitler with me bare hands and get a great deal of pleasure from it.’

  Molly stood up and smoothed down the skirt of her dress. ‘I feel more like flying, but I must get some ironing done; our Ruthie’s got no clean knickers.’ She stopped near the kitchen door and turned her head. ‘I know you two heathens never say a prayer, but I’m asking yez both to pray tonight that Phil comes home. And yer can say another one for all the other lads out there.’

  It was three days later when a hammering on the front door had Molly flying down the hall, wiping her hands on her pinny as she went.

  Maisie from the corner shop was standing outside, and from the look on her face Molly knew she’d brought news. ‘What is it, Maisie?’

  ‘Phil’s in a hospital down south.’ The words poured from Maisie’s mouth. ‘He rang up himself and told me to tell Miss Clegg and yourselves that he’s been wounded, but ye’re not to worry.’

  Molly blessed herself as she looked up to the sky. ‘Oh, thank you God, thank you.’ Then she asked, ‘Did he say how bad his wounds are, or what they are?’

  Maisie shook her head. ‘He didn’t have time to say much. He just wanted you all to know he’s all right.’

  ‘How did he sound?’

  ‘Molly, the line was crackling and there was a lot of noise at his end, so it was hard to tell how he sounded. But he said Miss Clegg and Doreen will be getting a letter from him in a few days.’

  ‘D’yer know, Maisie, I feel as though a ton weight has been lifted from me shoulders.’ Molly let out a deep breath. ‘I’ve had a headache for days worrying about him, and our Doreen’s a nervous wreck. Oh, thank God for that, me mind’s easier already.’ She glanced across the street. ‘Have yer told Miss Clegg yet?’

  ‘No, I thought you’d like to be the one to do that.’

  ‘Maisie, ye’re a real pal. They say a friend in need is a friend indeed, well that’s what you are. And right now, with the good news yer’ve just brought, I could kiss yer.’

  Maisie feigned horror. ‘Oh, not that, Molly! Anything but that!’

  ‘Get away before I clout yer one! Turning me kisses down, it’s enough to give me an inferiority complex.’ Molly felt light with relief. She was so happy she wanted to sing and dance for joy. ‘You go back to weighin’ yer spuds and I’ll nip across and tell Miss Clegg. Ooh, I can’t wait to see her face.’

  ‘I’ll see yer then, Molly, ta-ra for now.’

  ‘Thanks a million, Maisie, yer’ve taken a load off me mind.’ Molly glanced back down the hall. She’d been in the middle of peeling potatoes when Maisie had knocked, but they could wait, there was plenty of time to do them before dinner. She patted the pocket in her pinny to make sure she had Miss Clegg’s key, then pulled her front door to and ran across the street.

  There was a surprised look on Victoria’s face when Molly walked in. ‘I didn’t expect you back so soon.’ Then she saw the excitement in Molly’s eyes and her hand went to her throat. ‘You’ve had news?’

  ‘Yes, sunshine, we’ve had news.’ Molly drew a dining chair up so she could sit next to the old lady. ‘Maisie’s just been down to say Phil rang.’

  ‘He rang?’ Her voice was choked with emotion. ‘Where is he? Is he all right?’

  Molly held her hand and quickly told her all there was to tell. ‘You’ll be hearing from him in a day or two, but he wanted you to know he’s safe and back in Blighty.’

  ‘But you said he’s been wounded!’

  ‘Ay, come on now!’ Molly stroked the thin, veined hand. ‘Last week yer had him dead and buried! He’s alive, Victoria, an’ he phoned himself, so his injuries can’t be so bad.’

  ‘You’re right, Molly, I should be thanking God he’s home safe.’ Her eyes shining with tears, she smiled. ‘I just want to see his face, I’ve missed him so much.’

  ‘Of course yer have, sunshine, we all have. Just wait till our Doreen gets home, she’ll be over the moon.’

  ‘She’s a good girl, Molly, she’s been a tower of strength to me.’

  ‘Yeah, she’s surprised me, I can tell yer. She used to be a proper cheeky little madam, but she’s more understanding now, more grown-up.’ Molly stood up and pushed the chair back in place. ‘I’ll get off, Victoria, ’cos I want to finish preparing the dinner before I give Nellie a knock. You know what me mate’s like, once she starts talking there’s no stoppin’ her.’

  Victoria grinned. ‘I’d say you were a well-matched pair, Molly.’

  Molly smiled back. ‘In other words, I talk too much as well.’ She arched her eyebrows. ‘I know what I’ll do! I’ll give her a knock now an’ she can sit in ours while I do the spuds. That’s what they call killing two birds with one stone.’

  For the first time in weeks, Victoria laughed aloud. ‘I would hardly call Nellie a bird.’

  ‘Oh, I would! She’s a talking parrot! In fact, according to you, we’re a pair of talking parrots! I’m goin’ to tell her what yer said and give her a laugh.’ Molly bent to kiss the old lady’s cheek. ‘I’ll be over later with yer dinner and, if I were you, I’d try and get a bit of shut-eye.’

  ‘I’m too excited to sleep, Molly, my brain is working overtime.’

  ‘Well at least yer’ve got something nice to think about, better than all the worryin’ yer’ve been doing lately. Anyway, I’ll see yer later.’

  Jack could feel the charged atmosphere as soon as he walked in the room. He made no attempt to take his donkey jacket off, but stood by the table glancing from one smiling face to the other. He was about to ask what was going on when Doreen rushed up to him and flung her arms around his neck. ‘Phil’s all right, Dad! He’s in a hospital somewhere down south.’

  Jack disentangled her arms, holding them so he could look into her face. ‘You’ve heard from him?’

  Doreen nodded, her eyes blurred by tears. ‘He rang the corner shop and asked Maisie to pass the message on.’

  Tommy squeezed past his father. ‘Ay, that’s the gear, our Doreen!’

  ‘That’s putting it mildly, son,’ Jack said, his face beaming. ‘It’s bloody marvellous! By, that’s the best news I’ve had for God knows how long.’r />
  Molly didn’t want to spoil their happiness, but it was too early to get carried away. She’d been giving it a lot of thought since the first wave of relief and happiness had passed, and worry was beginning to niggle again. After all, they didn’t know how serious Phil’s injuries were. ‘He’s been wounded, Jack, but didn’t give Maisie any details.’

  ‘But he rang himself, didn’t he?’ Doreen said. ‘So he can’t be badly wounded.’

  Jack met Molly’s eyes before saying, ‘We’ll just have to wait and see, love. The main thing is, he’s alive and back in England.’

  ‘He’s writing to me an’ Miss Clegg – we should get a letter in a couple of days.’

  ‘So you’ll have all the answers then.’ Jack slipped his coat off and gave it to Tommy to hang on the hall-stand. ‘With a bit of luck we should be seeing him soon.’

  ‘Ooh, I can’t wait.’ Doreen put her arms around her waist and hugged herself. ‘It’s been ages.’

  ‘Now yer’ve seen yer dad and Tommy, go over and see Miss Clegg,’ Molly said. ‘She’ll be on pins waiting for yer.’

  They waited until they heard the front door close, then Jill said, ‘He can’t be badly injured, Mam, or he wouldn’t have been able to phone up himself.’

  ‘It’s no good guessing, sunshine, we’ll just have to bide our time until he writes. But he’s alive, and for that we must be thankful.’ Molly went into the kitchen to get the two dinners keeping warm on top of pans, and when she carried them through she said, ‘I’ll slip over to me ma’s and let them know. They’ve been worried, so it’ll put their minds at rest.’

  ‘I’ll go for yer, Mam, there’s no need for you to go out,’ Tommy said, his eyes on his plate. ‘I don’t mind going, a bit of fresh air will do me good.’

  Molly winked at Jack. Tommy seemed to have taken a liking for fresh air these last few days; he was always walking round to his nan’s. ‘That’s good of yer, son, it’ll save me legs.’

  Tommy ate his dinner with gusto and had cleared his plate before Jack was halfway through his. ‘I enjoyed that, Mam!’ He patted his tummy. ‘I’m full up now, a walk will do me good.’

  ‘Off yer pop, then, son, I’ll take yer plate out.’ Molly watched her son combing his hair in front of the mirror and her chest swelled with pride. He was a handsome lad, no doubt about that. ‘Tell me ma I’ll be round in the morning.’

  Satisfied he looked respectable, Tommy said, ‘I’ll see yer later, then. I won’t be late.’

  Molly waited until he was halfway down the hall, then she bawled, ‘Oh, an’ give my love to Rosie!’

  ‘And mine!’ Jill shouted.

  Tommy could feel his face burning as he pulled the door behind him. He’d have to stop this blushing lark, he was getting too old for it. He should be able to take a joke without going the colour of a postbox. They were only pulling his leg, hinting it was Rosie he was really going to see, not his nan and grandad. It wasn’t true of course, and he should just laugh it off instead of getting himself in a twist. It wasn’t his fault that Rosie lived with his grandparents. He went round there to see them, not their lodger. Not that he had anything against Rosie – she was all right when you got to know her. Her only fault was being a girl.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  It was three nail-biting days before Doreen received a letter from Phil. And when it came it was so brief, just the one page, her heart sank. He merely wrote that he’d been injured in his right leg and had been operated on. He was confined to bed, but as the hospital was overcrowded he was hoping to be transferred to another hospital nearer home. He didn’t say what or how bad his wounds were – none of the things she wanted to know. He sent his regards to everyone, hoped to see them soon, and that was about it. Except for the bottom line that said he loved her very much. That was the one thing that kept back her tears of disappointment.

  Molly studied her daughter’s face as she reread the letter for the third time and sensed she wasn’t too happy with the contents. ‘Don’t keep us in suspense, sunshine, tell us what Phil’s got to say.’

  Doreen folded the bottom of the letter over and ran a finger over the crease. The last line that said he loved her wasn’t for anyone’s eyes but her own. ‘He doesn’t say very much.’ She passed the letter over. ‘Don’t you dare read the bit I’ve turned over, that’s private.’

  ‘If he says he still loves yer, then yer should be happy, not sittin’ there with a face as long as a wet week.’ Molly grunted before holding the letter near to her eyes. ‘Ay, if he gets transferred to a hospital in Liverpool, wouldn’t that be great? We’d all be able to visit him.’

  ‘His letter doesn’t tell us much, though, does it, Mam?’

  ‘What the hell d’yer expect? The lad’s lying in hospital after an operation, you’re lucky you got a letter at all!’

  ‘Can I see it, Mam?’ Jill turned to her sister. ‘You don’t mind, do you, Doreen?’

  ‘Be my guest!’ Doreen chewed on her bottom lip. ‘Did Miss Clegg show yer the one she got?’

  Molly nodded. ‘Before yer ask, he only told her the same as he told you. He even told her he loved her, but he didn’t put it the way he put it to you.’

  ‘You sneaked!’ Doreen said in a high voice. ‘Oh, you, Mam, yer sneaked!’

  Molly smiled. ‘I didn’t, sunshine, but I didn’t need to, did I? Yer’ve just given the game away.’

  Ruthie had been sitting quietly on the couch, her eyes wide and her ears taking in every word. ‘Can I read it, our Doreen? Phil likes me, he wouldn’t mind if yer let me have a look.’

  Doreen rolled her eyes. ‘I think I’ll nail it to the front door an’ then the whole street can have a read.’ But her heart was lighter now her mother had explained that Phil would have difficulty writing and she was lucky to get a letter at all. She should have thought of that herself instead of being so selfish. ‘Come and sit next to me,’ she beckoned her kid sister over. ‘I’ll read it to yer.’

  ‘Yer’ve no need to,’ Ruthie said, tossing her head. ‘I’m not a baby, I can read joined-up writing.’

  ‘You read it then, but I’m keeping hold of it, I don’t trust yer.’ Doreen looked across at her mother. ‘If I write to him tonight, will yer post the letter first thing in the mornin’? I could post it meself on me way to work, but I haven’t got a stamp.’

  ‘The corner shop will have one,’ Molly said. ‘If yer catch the first post he might get the letter the day after.’

  ‘Shall I go to the shop for yer, our Doreen?’ Ruthie’s offer was sincere but there was a bit of craftiness behind it. Who knows, she might get a halfpenny for going.

  ‘Is it all right if she goes, Mam?’ Doreen asked. ‘It’s still broad daylight out.’

  Molly nodded, knowing full well why her youngest daughter was so keen to run the message. ‘But right there and back, mind, no playing out.’

  Doreen fished in her purse and brought out a threepenny joey. ‘Yer can get yerself some sweets, but bring me the change back.’

  Ruthie was off the chair and out of the house like a streak of greased lightning, bringing a smile to Molly’s face. ‘She’s a cute article, that one. She can wrap circles around the lot of us.’

  ‘I’ll write him a nice long letter to cheer him up.’ Doreen’s eyes were dreamy. ‘I’ll tell him I can’t wait for him to come home and we can go dancing to Barlow’s Lane.’

  Molly had been straightening the mat in front of the fireplace; now she spun around. ‘Have yer lost the run of yer senses? He’s been wounded in his leg, had an operation, an’ you’re going to say yer can’t wait to go dancing with him? A bit insensitive, don’t yer think?’

  Doreen gazed at her mother, realization dawning. ‘Yer mean … yer mean he might not be able to dance again?’

  ‘How the hell would I know? But dancing should be the last thing on yer flaming mind! The lad’s alive and he’s coming back to Liverpool soon, so count yer blessings an’ stop worrying about ruddy dancing.’ Molly huffed. ‘If
it turns out he can’t dance again, will yer be givin’ him his marching orders?’

  ‘Of course not!’ Doreen felt ashamed of herself. She was so excited at the prospect of seeing Phil again she wasn’t thinking straight. ‘I don’t care if we never go dancing again, Mam, as long as he’s all right. It’s a good job I mentioned it to yer, otherwise I’d have been stupid enough to talk about Barlow’s Lane in me letter.’ She gave a half-grin. ‘Someone bang me head for me.’

  ‘I shouldn’t have taken off on yer like that,’ Molly said, ‘but yer’ve got to be prepared, in case Phil’s injuries are serious. That’s all I was trying to do, sunshine, prepare yer for whatever’s in store.’

  ‘I know yer were, Mam, and you were being sensible while I was being stupid. I’ll write him a nice letter and try and cheer him up.’

  ‘That’s the spirit! An’ don’t forget to tell him we’re all looking forward to seein’ him again. Yer can tell him about Uncle Corker and Auntie Ellen getting married, that’s a good bit of news.’

  ‘And don’t forget to tell him you’re making our dresses,’ Jill chipped in. ‘Even Auntie Nellie’s.’

  ‘That should put a smile on his face.’ Molly laughed. ‘Tell him she asked yer if yer could make tents, an’ if yer couldn’t, could yer pinch a barrage balloon from where yer work.’

  It was Friday night and the room was filled with laughter. Nellie had come down for the fitting of the dress Doreen was making and the things she was saying had them all in stitches. There was no side to Nellie, not a trace of vanity, and her jokes were at her own expense.

  ‘Why haven’t yer got a full-length mirror so I can admire meself?’ she asked, standing on tiptoe in front of the mirror over the mantelpiece. ‘I can only see me ruddy neck in that thing.’

  Jack got to his feet, chortling. ‘I’ll take it down and lean it against the wall, then yer can see every inch of yerself.’

  Nellie pretended to glare. ‘Ay, Jack Bennett, don’t you be gettin’ sarky with me! Every inch of mine is worth six of anyone else’s, so put that in yer pipe an’ smoke it.’