by Joan Jonker
Out of the corner of her eye, Kate had seen Billy’s eyes going back and forth from her to his sister. ‘Billy, I hope you understand you mustn’t let the cat out of the bag by repeating anything yer’ve heard just now.’ She put a finger to her lips. ‘Keep these closed, son, and be a good boy.’
He jerked his head back. ‘I don’t know, women and girls don’t half have some queer ideas.’ He appealed to his father. ‘Don’t yer think, Dad, that life would be much easier if there were only men in the world?’
John had great difficulty keeping the laughter back. ‘I’m afraid that is something you and me disagree on, son. Yer see, without women, there wouldn’t be a world!’
Billy looked puzzled. ‘How d’yer make that out?’
John asked himself how he could get out of that poser. ‘Erm, I’ll tell yer when ye’re a bit older, son. Yer see, it’s complicated.’
Time to change the subject, Kate thought. ‘That’s enough now. Just remember what yer’ve been told and put yer new shirt away. I’ll have some sandwiches ready for our tea in a few minutes.’
She poured the boiling water into the teapot, then refilled the kettle. After they’d had their tea, she’d pull the dolly tub out and put the dresses and skirt she’d got from the market in steep. There was no need to fill the tub just for those few things, so it wouldn’t take long. Then she remembered it was Sunday the next day, and no one washed or put their clothes out on a Sunday unless they wanted the whole neighbourhood to say they were heathens.
She stood with her chin in her hand. If she put the clothes in steep now, and gave them a good bashing with the dolly peg to make sure all the dirt was out, then after tea, she’d have time to rinse them, wring as much water out of them as she could, then get them on the line. In this weather they’d be dry by the time she was going to bed. Then she could spend time on them tomorrow, cutting and sewing.
Happy that she’d sorted herself out in her mind, Kate carried the teapot through and put it on the stand in the middle of the table. ‘Sandwiches are on their way.’
John Spencer wasn’t a church-goer, and no amount of coaxing or arguing on Kate’s part would make him change. He lived a decent life, he said, doing a bit of good when someone needed help, and he never harmed a soul. Better than some of the men in the street who went to church every Sunday and came home to treat their wives and kids like slaves. No, going to church didn’t make you good, it was what you did in life. So every Sunday he had a nice lie-in while his wife and children went to ten o’clock Mass, and he would have a cup of tea ready for them when they got home.
This Sunday morning, Kate ran her eyes over Billy to make sure the people sitting in the pew behind them couldn’t see a tidemark, and that his socks were neatly pulled up to his knees and not around his ankles like a concertina. Then she went to the bottom of the stairs and called, ‘We’re off, John! I hope ye’re up by the time we get back.’
‘I will be, love,’ a sleepy voice answered. ‘I’m giving the matter some very serious consideration right now.’
‘Well, don’t spend too long considering, or yer’ll wear yerself out and go back to sleep again.’ Kate winked at the two children. ‘If ye’re still in bed when we come back from church, and there’s no pot of tea on the hob, I’ll be up these stairs with the rolling pin in me hand.’ Without waiting for a reply, she ushered the children through the front door.
‘Yer wouldn’t really hit me dad with the rolling pin, would yer, Mam?’ Billy had noted her wink earlier and took it to mean she was kidding. But it was best to make sure, because hitting someone with a rolling pin sounded a bit drastic. ‘He wouldn’t be able to go to work tomorrow if yer did, ’cos he’d have a lump on his head the size of a football.’
Kate grinned. ‘He’d have to keep his cap on all day then, wouldn’t he, to hide it?’ She heard a door closing nearby and turned her head to see Monica and Dolly on the pavement. ‘Your feller still in bed as well, is he?’
Monica nodded. ‘The only thing that would get Tom out of bed on a Sunday morning would be if I told him the laws had been changed and the pubs were open.’
‘Married to heathens we are, the two of us.’ Kate gestured to the girls to walk on. ‘When the time comes to climb up that stairway to heaven, I hope Saint Peter doesn’t add their sins to our slate or we’ll be sent right back down the staircase with our heads bowed in shame.’
Walking behind the two women, young Billy rolled his eyes. What were they on about now? Why did they suddenly start talking about stairways to heaven, sins and slates? They were barmy, the pair of them. Mind you, as he’d tried to tell his dad, all the female sex were the same. Barmy.
Kate turned her head. ‘Pete’s in front with his mam, sunshine, d’yer want to catch him up?’
Billy didn’t need to be asked twice. Mrs Reynolds, Pete’s mam, was on her own, no other woman to natter to about stupid things. ‘I’ll see yer in church, Mam.’ Then you couldn’t see his heels for dust.
‘Listen,’ Kate kept her voice low, ‘have yer heard anything from Betty?’
‘Not a dickie bird,’ Monica said. ‘I don’t think we will, either, ’cos I’ve got a feeling that Greg’s a mummy’s boy, and he’s been told to keep well away. He’s probably more afraid of her than he is of Margaret and her family.’
‘Well, I’m not giving up hope yet.’ Kate was resolute. ‘I’m going to light a candle and say a couple of prayers. It’s all very well for us to stroll along discussing whether we think he will or he won’t, but what about Margaret and her mam and dad? Life must be hell for them right now, with their lives ruined. It’ll be on their minds night and day. I know how I’d feel if I was in their shoes.’ Kate could feel herself getting very emotional, and it was obvious in her voice. ‘Don’t forget, we’ve got daughters and, God forbid, could very well have to go through the same nightmare. So it wouldn’t hurt yer to say a prayer, Monica Parry, instead of being full of doom and gloom.’
‘Oh, dear! Oh, dear! Oh, dear! That’s me put firmly in me place, isn’t it?’ Monica linked her friend’s arm and squeezed. ‘Taking off on me isn’t going to help, girl, but if I thought it would, I’d let yer kick me the length of the street. However, if yer think a prayer will help, then I’ll say a prayer. And I’ll light a candle if it makes yer feel better. But if that Greg doesn’t come up trumps after all that, I’ll go round to his house and box his ears for him.’
Kate could imagine it too! Her mate would think nothing of giving someone a hiding if she thought they deserved it. ‘Perhaps if my little effort didn’t do the trick, yours just might. Anyway, let’s put a move on or we’ll be too late to get a pew to ourselves.’
The church was full, and the friends and their daughters were lucky to find space in a pew at the very back. ‘We left the house in bags of time, but still manage to be late,’ Monica said softly. ‘The trouble is, we talk too much.’
‘Ay, you speak for yerself, sunshine,’ Kate said, kneeling down with the rest of the congregation. At least those that were able. The elderly and infirm remained seated.
It was when they rose to sing a hymn that Monica whispered, ‘I’ve just spotted Betty at the front, with Margaret. We’ll be out first, so we’ll wait and have a word with them.’
‘We will not! Imagine how embarrassed the poor girl would be if she thought all the neighbours knew about her.’ Kate’s eyes went down to the hymn book and she raised her voice in song to stop her friend carrying on the conversation. Church was hardly the place to gossip, and several people had already turned around and tutted.
At the end of the mass, Kate looked for her son, but there was no sign. He’d probably go with Pete now, and come home when he thought dinner would be ready. That meant poor Mrs Reynolds would have him under her feet while she was trying to get the Sunday roast on. Unless of course her husband liked peace and quiet on the Sabbath, and sent Billy packing.
There were small groups of people waiting outside the church. Monica clung tightly to Kate
’s arm. ‘Just hang on for a few minutes, it won’t kill yer. And I’m sure ye’re as nosy as I am to find out whether there’s been any development.’ She smiled at their two daughters who always looked neat and tidy on a Sunday. ‘You run along home, girls, and make sure the kettle’s on. Dolly, tell yer dad I’ll only be ten minutes.’
The girl pulled a face. ‘He won’t believe that! We all know your ten minutes can turn into a couple of hours.’
‘Just do as ye’re told, girl, and I promise I’ll be home in plenty of time to get the dinner on. But, just in case, make yer dad a cup of tea to be going on with.’
‘I’ll go on and tell me dad the same thing, Mam,’ Nancy said. ‘But if he asks me what’s keeping yer, what shall I tell him?’
‘Yer don’t need to tell him anything, sunshine, ’cos I’m a big girl now. I don’t have to ask permission to stop and talk to friends.’
‘I know that, Mam! But yer did say if he didn’t have a pot of tea made when we got home, yer’d be after him with the rolling pin. So I want yer to tell me what to do if I’m faced with two choices. Say me dad’s still in bed, then do I have to take the rolling pin to him? And if he does have the tea ready, and you’re not there to drink it, what excuse do I have to give for you not coming home with me?’
‘Blame yer Auntie Monica, sunshine, that’s what I’m going to do. Tell him she forced me to stay behind because she wanted to talk to a friend.’
‘Oh, aye, and what friend would that be, Mam?’ Monica’s daughter was eyeing her with suspicion. ‘In case me dad asks, like?’
‘Never you mind what friend it is, just tell him yer don’t know.’ Monica spied Betty and her daughter coming through the church doors. ‘Now, get yer skates on, or there’ll be two lots of tea getting thrown out. And go straight home, don’t stand around talking.’
‘Well, I like that!’ Dolly said. ‘You and Auntie Kate are going to stand around talking, but we’re not allowed to!’
Monica thought of a way to stop this. ‘Did I, or did I not, promise to buy yer a new blouse this week, if yer were a good girl?’
Kate quickly took Dolly’s side. ‘That’s blackmail, that is!’
Monica just as quickly agreed. ‘I know it is, girl, but can you think of any other way of getting rid of them? Our Dolly is like a dog with a bone. Once she gets something between her teeth, she won’t let go.’
‘Come on, Dolly,’ Nancy said. ‘We can tell when we’re not wanted.’
Betty Blackmore had seen the two friends and said to her daughter, ‘I want a word with Monica. You stay here, I won’t be a minute.’
‘No, I’m coming with yer.’ Margaret clung to her mother’s coat. ‘If I stand here like a lemon, they’ll think I’m too frightened to talk to them. I’ve got to get used to looking people in the face, I can’t spend the rest of my life staring down at the ground.’
Betty sighed to think of her daughter being forced to do either. ‘Come on, then, we won’t be long.’ Walking around the groups of people standing inside the gates of the church, talking to friends they only met on Sunday, Margaret’s mother was trying to think of an excuse that would sound plausible to see Monica again later. ‘Good morning, Monica, and you, Kate. It’s a beautiful morning, isn’t it?’
‘It certainly is!’ Kate smiled at Betty’s daughter who was trying to look as though she didn’t have a care in the world. ‘All right, Margaret?’
‘I’m fine, thanks. It was warm in church, though, I couldn’t breathe.’
‘We were lucky, we were at the back near the door. There was a nice breeze blowing through.’
The two friends noticed a difference in Betty today though what it was exactly was difficult to say, and they didn’t like asking. At least, Monica would have loved to ask, but she knew Kate would have her guts for garters for embarrassing her. Margaret’s mother seemed to be working on a spring, her every movement jerky. Her eyes didn’t look so tired, though, which was a good sign.
‘Monica, I was wondering if yer’d found that knitting pattern yer were telling me about? If yer have, I’d like to borrow it to make a start.’
‘I think I know where it is, girl, although I couldn’t walk in and put me hand on it. I will find it, though, and bring it round to yours this afternoon.’ Monica didn’t have a clue which pattern the woman was talking about. Was it for a baby’s matinee coat or a man’s pullover? Or was it just an excuse? ‘I’ve got a couple of patterns somewhere, I promise I’ll find them and bring them round to yer.’
‘No, I’ll come for them.’ Betty was trying to send a message with her eyes. ‘If I come about two, would yer dinner be over by then?’
‘It’s no trouble to bring them, yer know. I don’t mind.’
But Betty stayed firm. ‘No, I’ll come to yours about two. Yer see, we’re having visitors at four o’clock, and I want the place just right.’
‘I’m sure your house is never anything else but just right,’ Kate said. ‘I know ye’re very houseproud.’
‘Oh, she is!’ Margaret said, surprising them all. ‘Yer never see me mam without a duster or a brush in her hands.’
‘Better that than living in a pig sty, sunshine.’ Kate was thinking she’d never realized before how pretty the girl was. Mind you, she’d only spoken to her a few times. ‘I used to think my mam was too fussy, until I went home with a girl from work one day and her house was a disgrace. Absolutely filthy – and smelly. So after that I never complained again about me mam being fussy.’
‘We’ll get fussy if we don’t get home,’ Monica said. ‘My feller will think I’ve left him. So I’ll see yer about two, Betty, and I’ll root those patterns out before yer come.’
They parted company then, and the two friends walked on for a few minutes until they were sure they couldn’t be overheard. Then Monica asked, ‘Well, what d’yer think, girl?’
‘I’d say there’s something in the air, but what I don’t know. What I do know, though, sunshine, is that I’ll have to put a move on if I want to get the dinner over and be at your house for two o’clock. And you’d better send Dolly in to ours, out of the way.’
‘And what d’yer suggest I do with my feller?’
‘Send him down the yard to the lavvy with the News of the World.’ Kate chuckled. ‘That should keep him occupied for at least an hour.’
Chapter Eight
Kate used a thick cloth to cover her hands to save them from the heat of the oven as she slid the roasting tin on to the top shelf. Then, after closing the oven door, she ran the back of her hand across her forehead to wipe away the beads of sweat. What with the heat from the oven and the gas ring, it was sweltering in the tiny kitchen. ‘I’ll baste them in half an hour, so they’ll come out nice and crispy brown.’
‘Are you talking to yerself?’ John’s voice floated through from the living room. ‘They can lock yer up for that, yer know.’
‘I’ve been talking to meself for years now, sunshine, and I haven’t been locked up yet.’ Kate lifted the lid of the pan on the stove to make sure the carrots were still simmering before making her way out of the kitchen. ‘Anyway, you’re a fine one to talk! Ye’re always jabbering away to yerself, even in yer sleep. Many’s the night I’ve had to turn yer over on yer side ’cos in between yer talking, ye’re snoring like no one’s business.’
She stood for a few seconds with her hand on the doorknob, watching the concentration on the faces of her two children who were playing Ludo. Sitting opposite each other at the table, Nancy and Billy kept their eyes peeled to make sure there was no cheating. After all, the winner got the pick of the roast potatoes. On a weekday, if their mother could afford it, the prize would be a ha’penny, but Kate wouldn’t allow gambling in the house on a Sunday.
With the kids occupied, she seized the opportunity to have a word with John about why she would be nipping next door at two o’clock. What with getting the dinner on, she hadn’t had a chance to get him on his own since she came back from church. ‘Will yer give us
a hand in the kitchen, love? I want yer to push the mangle back to the wall so I’ve got enough space to breathe. It won’t take yer a minute,’ she said to him.
John shoved his Sunday paper down the side of his chair before raising himself up. ‘Yer can have as much of my time as yer like, love, yer know that.’ He chuckled as he followed her into the kitchen. ‘It just so happens that I don’t have any important business to deal with today, so my butler can attend to anything that crops up.’
Kate put a finger to her lips and spoke softly. ‘Keep yer voice down ’cos I don’t want the kids to hear any of this. The mangle doesn’t need shifting, it was only an excuse to get you out here.’
John drew her close. ‘Ooh, I hope yer intend to have yer wicked way with me. But wouldn’t it have made more sense if yer’d asked me to help yer move the bed instead of the mangle? It would have been much more comfortable.’
Kate gave him a quick peck on the cheek before pulling away. ‘There’s a time and place for everything, sunshine, but right now I don’t have the time. And I’m dead sure the kitchen isn’t the place.’
‘Wishful thinking on my part again.’ John put on a woeful expression. ‘I hope yer realize it’s bad for a man to have his passion repressed? They say it stunts his growth.’
‘Tell me about it in bed tonight when I’ve not got so much on me mind.’ After popping her head around the door to make sure the children weren’t listening, Kate explained all about the meeting with Betty and her daughter outside the church. ‘She’s coming to Monica at two o’clock, so don’t start asking awkward questions when I say I’m going next door for half an hour.’
‘Do Betty and her daughter know about your involvement in all this?’ John asked. ‘I mean, do they know yer went to meet this bloke?’
‘No, of course not! And I don’t want them to either. If the lad has been to see Margaret, and I’ve got a feeling that’s what Betty wants to tell us, then I’d rather they believed he’d done it off his own bat and wasn’t pushed into it. I’m keeping me fingers crossed that everything turns out fine for the Blackmores, so they can smile again and plan for a happy future. No more worrying about neighbours talking behind their backs.’