by Joan Jonker
‘Now why would he be in a bad temper, today of all days?’
‘Nobby Clarke doesn’t need an excuse for throwin’ ’is weight around, bashin’ the kids an’ Ellen. They’re easy targets, can’t ’it him back.’
‘We live a few doors away an’ we can hear ’im sometimes,’ Nellie said. ‘It’s the kids I feel sorry for, poor blighters.’
‘Sshh!’ Molly had her ear cocked. ‘It’s gone quiet, let’s hope it stays like that.’
A splutter from the gas light suspended from the ceiling brought a grunt of disgust from Molly. She looked up and saw a flame flickering through a hole in the fine gauze of the mantle. ‘That’s all I need!’ She threw her hands in the air. ‘Bloody Nobby Clarke, an’ now me gas mantle’s gone for a burton an’ I ’aven’t got a spare one.’ She slapped herself across the cheek. ‘Serves me right for bein’ so bloody big-headed. I’ve been pattin’ meself on the back thinkin’ I’d remembered to get everythin’ in, an’ lo and behold, I’ve forgotten a little thing like a ruddy gas mantle.’
‘I’ll get a couple of candles, love,’ Jack said. ‘That light’s goin’ to go out any minute.’
‘I’ll nip up to the shop and get you a mantle.’ Alec stood up and shook his trouser legs until the creases were hanging straight. ‘It’ll only take five minutes.’
‘I’m sorry, Alec,’ she said. ‘It’s a hell of a night to ask yer to go out. The snow’s comin’ down pretty heavy.’
‘He won’t shrink.’ Maisie laughed. ‘An’ if he runs fast, he can dodge the snow flakes.’
‘I’ll ’ave a hot toddy ready to warm yer up.’ Jack grinned as he added, ‘Aren’t I generous, offerin’ yer a drink of yer own whisky?’
Alec donned his coat and wrapped a woollen muffler round his neck. ‘I’ll be back in five minutes.’
Chapter Nine
‘I wonder what’s keepin’ him?’ Maisie glanced at the clock for the umpteenth time. ‘Five minutes he said, an’ he’s been gone twenty.’ The gas mantle had disintegrated completely since Alec left, and they were sitting in the glow from the fire and the flickering light given out by the candle standing in a saucer on the sideboard. ‘I’m beginning to think he’s got a woman on the side an’ he’s taken advantage of the situation to nip round an’ see her.’
Molly chuckled. ‘Don’t be puttin’ ideas into my feller’s ’ead, Maisie, or he’ll think he’s missin’ out on something.’
‘One woman’s enough for me, thanks.’ Jack laughed. ‘I’ve got me hands full with you.’ He cocked his head. ‘This’ll be him at the door now.’
The smile slid from Jack’s face when he opened the door to see Alec standing behind Ellen Clarke and her two eldest children: Phoebe, who was nine, and Dorothy, seven.
‘I found them walking the streets,’ he explained. ‘I couldn’t leave them, it’s not fit weather for man nor beast.’
Jack recovered quickly when he saw the shivering trio. ‘Come in an’ get a warm.’
The girls didn’t need asking twice, but Ellen hesitated. ‘Yer’ve got visitors.’
Alec gave her a gentle push. ‘In you get! The snow’s about six inches deep an’ your shoes look as though they’re made of cardboard.’
Molly’s expression when they all trooped in was comical. What the hell was going on? ‘What yer doin’ out on a night like this, Ellen?’
Ellen’s narrow eyes darted round the room, taking in the curiosity and surprise on the faces awaiting her reply. She couldn’t think of an excuse, so she told them the truth. ‘Yer might know, Nobby’s up to ’is antics again. Like a raving lunatic he is, so I brought the girls out before he murdered the lot of us.’
‘Where’s the young ’uns?’ Molly asked, her face anxious. ‘Don’t tell me yer’ve left them on their own with ’im, surely to God?’
‘They’re in bed. I’ve brought the key with me, so I’ll go back when he’s ’ad time to cool down.’
Bridie looked at the two shivering girls and her heart went out to them. They were standing with their heads down, but she noticed their eyes kept swivelling to the tree and paper decorations. ‘Come and sit yerselves down by the fire and get a warm.’ She squashed into the side of her chair and beckoned to Dorothy. ‘Auntie Molly will make a cup of tea that’ll warm the cockles of yer hearts.’
Maisie slid along the couch, motioning to Phoebe. ‘Come on, sweetheart, sit by me.’ She took the girl’s thin hands in hers and began to rub some life into them. ‘You’re like ice.’
Molly’s eyes widened in horror as she watched Bridie press Dorothy’s head into her shoulder and begin to stroke the dull, mousy hair. Oh, God, the fleas! Her eyes began to flash warnings, but her mother was too busy crooning words of comfort to the young girl. Molly closed her eyes, her imagination running riot as she pictured the fleas jumping from one head to another. ‘Jill, put the kettle on, love.’ Molly was in despair, but what could she do? ‘Jack, be an angel and put the new mantle on, will yer, so we can see what we’re saying.’
‘Stand up, George, an’ let Ellen near the fire.’ Nellie patted the chair vacated by her husband. ‘Come on, Ellen.’
Molly walked into the kitchen, muttering under her breath, ‘The whole ruddy street will be walkin’ tomorrow.’
But as she was carrying two cups of steaming hot tea through, she hovered by the door, her eyes taking in the scene. The two girls were so thin their shabby coats hung on them, and below their legs were like match sticks. On each of their pinched faces was a look of bewilderment, as though they’d never known such warmth and kindness in their young lives. They looked so pathetic, Molly felt ashamed of herself and sent a prayer winging its way to heaven to ask God to forgive her for her uncharitable thoughts.
Nobby Clarke roared with rage when he saw Ellen march the two girls out. And when he heard the door bang, he punched his fist into the wall with such force the plaster beneath the wallpaper caved in. How dare she walk out on him! She’d pay for this when she came home, he’d knock the living daylights out of her.
Nobby staggered to the window, his mind hazy from the half bottle of whisky he’d drunk. He saw Ellen trudging through the snow, her arms around the shoulders of his daughters. She wouldn’t stay out long, not in this weather, and she had nowhere else to go. She’d soon come crawling back, and when she did he’d show her what for. He’d teach her who was boss!
Leaning on the window sill, Nobby saw Alec come out of the house next door and this increased his anger. Bloody neighbours, never even passed him the time of day. Thought themselves too good for him. But he didn’t need them, he had plenty of good mates down at the pub.
When he heard voices outside, Nobby lifted the net curtain. This would be them, he knew they wouldn’t stay out long. His lip curled in a sneer. Just wait till he got hold of her, she wouldn’t know what hit her. He’d make sure she never walked out on him again.
Nobby dropped the curtain when he saw Ellen and the girls weren’t alone. What the hell was the bloke from the corner shop doing with them? In his fuddled mind, he saw this as an added reason for teaching his wife a lesson.
The group passed the window and Nobby waited for the click of the key in the door, his fist clenched ready for action. But there was no sound until he heard a banging on the Bennetts’ door. Pressing his face against the window pane, he watched as the group disappeared from view.
Well, of all the . . .! The bitch! He’d show her, and anybody else who got in his way. Who the hell did they think they were, taking his wife and kids in? In his rage, Nobby wrenched the living room door open and staggered into the hall. Too drunk for coherent thought, it was pure instinct that brought his hand away from the door latch. He wasn’t frightened of them, he told himself, Nobby Clarke was frightened of no one. He’d take the whole bloody lot on, all at once if need be, and make mincemeat out of them.
But even in drink, Nobby was cunning enough to find excuses for not getting involved in a fight. ‘It’s not worth it,’ he said aloud, his voice th
ick, his words slurred. ‘I’ll just wait for Ellen to come back and deal with ’er in the privacy of me own ’ome. That way I won’t be fillin’ people’s mouths.
‘Yeah, that’s the best thing.’ He held on to the door to steady himself before reaching for the arm of the chair. Then he fell down heavily, saliva running from the corners of his mouth. ‘I’m in no hurry, I’ve got all the time in the world.’
Molly and Jack stood on their step seeing their visitors off. ‘God, it’s cold enough to freeze the you know whats off a brass monkey!’ Molly shivered. ‘Thank heaven we can ’ave a lie in in the mornin’.’
‘All in all, it’s been quite a night,’ Jack said, watching the group stop outside Nellie’s where Ellen was staying the night. Phoebe was to sleep at Maisie’s, and Bridie and Bob were taking Dorothy home with them. Ellen hadn’t liked the idea at first, terrified of the consequences. But the men had arranged that Jack and Alec would see her home tomorrow, and if Nobby was reasonable, the girls could follow. If not, they’d take it from there.
Molly made a bee-line for the fire, holding up her dress to feel the warmth while Jack collected glasses and emptied overflowing ashtrays.
‘Let’s ’ave a quiet cuppa before we go to bed.’ She lifted the kettle from the hob and set it on the fire. ‘This won’t take long to boil.’ They sat in companionable silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Molly, her hands curled around the hot cup, broke the silence. ‘I could kill Nobby Clarke for spoilin’ me night. The first time I’ve ever ’ad a party, an’ he ’as to go and ruin it.’
‘I don’t know, love, I think everyone enjoyed themselves. The kids from next door certainly did.’ Jack flicked the ash from his cigarette into the grate. ‘If yer ever think yer hard done by, Molly, just think of Ellen. Life’s no bed of roses for her or her kids.’
‘I know, I’m a selfish nit.’ Molly took a sip of tea then spluttered it out as she shook with laughter. ‘One thing yer can say about Ellen, she’s not selfish. She gave everyone in this room a present tonight.’ The tea was threatening to spill over as Molly’s whole frame shook, and she set the cup down on the floor by her feet. ‘Mind you, it’ll be a few days before any of us know quite how generous she’s been.’
‘What are you on about, missus?’ Jack gazed at the rosy cheeks creased in a smile, and without knowing why, started to chuckle. ‘Come on, Tilly Mint, out with it.’
‘Oh, yer’ll find out for yerself soon enough.’ The springs on the couch creaked as Molly doubled up with laughter. ‘Honest to God, I’ve never known anythin’ so funny in me life.’ She wiped at the tears with the back of her hand. ‘The fleas must ’ave thought it was their birthday, hoppin’ from one head to another.’ Another spasm of laughter had her gasping for breath. ‘Yer not the only one sittin’ in that chair, Jack Bennett, yer’ve got company.’
His eyes rolled from one arm of the chair to the other. ‘They’ve got fleas?’
‘Got them! They’re alive with the bloody things.’ Between guffaws and gulps, Molly told how he’d come to smell sassafras oil when he’d taken the stockings around. ‘I gave Ellen the oil ’cos their heads were crawlin’ with the ruddy things.’
‘Oh, my God!’ Jack looked horrified. He never had an itchy head, but right now he could swear he felt something move. ‘Yer ma will do her nut.’
‘I know! An’ don’t forget Nellie an’ Maisie! An’ there’s us as well, unless the fleas are fussy.’
‘Yer should have said something, Molly.’
She took a deep breath. ‘What could I ’ave done, Jack? Thrown them all out in the snow? I wanted to say somethin’, but when I looked at the poor things, half starved and terrified, I couldn’t bring meself to make a show of them in front of everyone. I couldn’t humiliate them, love, now could I? You wouldn’t ’ave wanted me to do that, would yer?’
‘No, love, I wouldn’t.’ He reached for the poker and rattled it between the bars on the grate. ‘Yer’ll have to tell Ma, though, an’ the others. It wouldn’t be fair not to.’
‘First thing in the mornin’, I promise.’ Molly took one of his hands in hers and held it tight. ‘I know I’ve got a queer sense of humour, love, but when I’d got over the shock, an’ realised there was nowt I could do about it, I started to see the funny side. If yer can’t laugh things off, yer may as well be dead.’
There was a tender look in Jack’s eyes. ‘I’ll say this for yer, Molly Bennett, my life would be very dull an’ empty without yer.’
Ellen Clarke paced the floor of Nellie’s living room. All night she’d tossed and turned on the couch, unable to sleep. ‘I’d better go ’ome, Nellie. The longer I stay out the worse it’ll be.’
‘Yer not goin’ anywhere till the men come.’ Nellie’s arms were folded beneath her huge bosom. ‘Jack an’ Alec said they’d be here for ten, an’ it’s only just nine o’clock. So park yer carcass an’ get that toast down yer.’
‘I couldn’t eat a thing, Nellie, me tummy’s too upset.’ Ellen kept on pacing, her hands clasping and unclasping. ‘I’d rather go ’ome, face the music an’ get it over with.’
Nellie put her two hands on Ellen’s shoulders and pushed her down, none too gently, on a chair by the table. ‘Over my dead body yer leave this ’ouse, Ellen Clarke, so shut yer cake-hole an’ get that toast down yer.’
One look at Nellie’s determined face told Ellen it was no use arguing. She picked up a slice of toast and nibbled at the corner. ‘He’ll kill me when he gets ’is hands on me. You don’t know what he’s like, Nellie.’
‘Maybe I don’t know what he’s like, but there’s one thing I do know.’ Nellie stood over the frightened woman. ‘If he so much as lays a finger on you or the kids, I’ll swing for ’im.’
‘Oh, he won’t touch me in front of anyone, he’s too crafty for that.’ Ellen’s laugh was hollow. ‘He’ll be as nice as pie, as though butter wouldn’t melt in ’is mouth. Until he’s got me on me own, then all hell will break loose.’
Nellie pulled a chair out and sat facing her. ‘I think Jack an’ Alec will put the fear of God into ’im, so don’t be worryin’. Jack Bennett’s no shrinking violet, he’s a big feller, an’ I don’t think Nobby will want to cross swords with ’im in a hurry.’
Ellen sighed as she flicked a crumb from her lips. ‘I don’t mind so much for meself, it’s the kids I worry about.’
Nellie scraped back her chair. ‘I’d better make meself presentable before the gang arrive.’ She smiled down into the pale, pinched face. ‘Can’t let the men see me in me dinky curlers, might put them off.’
‘There’s time to eat yer breakfast,’ Molly said. ‘Ten o’clock yer said yer’d be there.’
Jack stood in front of the mirror adjusting his tie. ‘I just hope I can keep me temper. Right now I feel like choking the bastard.’ His face was red with anger when he turned to face Molly. ‘Every time I think of those poor kids walkin’ the streets on Christmas Day, me blood boils.’
There was a rap on the knocker and Molly groaned. ‘Who the hell can this be?’ She looked down at her old dressing gown. ‘Just look at the state of me, I look like Orphan Annie.’
‘I’ll go,’ Jack said. ‘It’s probably Bob or Alec, bringing the girls.’
‘But they’re supposed to meet at Nellie’s.’ Molly ran a hand over her tousled hair. ‘Don’t let anyone in, Jack.’
‘Don’t act the goat,’ he said, making his way down the hall. ‘I can’t keep anyone on the step in this weather.’
Molly stood near the living room door, her ear cocked. When she heard Corker’s booming voice she looked around for a way of escape. But there was none, unless she went down the yard to the lavvy. And a fat lot of good that would do her ’cos she’d have to come out sooner or later.
‘Molly, me darling, compliments of the season to yer.’ Corker lifted her off her feet and planted a kiss on her cheek. ‘I went to eight o’clock Mass with me ma, had a bite to eat, then left her peeling the spuds while I came to share
a Christmas drink with me old mates and wish them the compliments of the season.’
Her feet back on the floor, Molly looked up at the giant of a man who was grinning down at her. ‘Corker, it’s only ten in the mornin’! An’ just look at the state of me . . . I’m hardly dressed for a party.’
He reached in his pocket and pulled out a bottle of port wine. ‘You look beautiful to me, Molly me darlin’. A sight for sore eyes is what you are.’
‘Away with yer blarney, Jimmy Corkhill.’ In spite of her embarrassment Molly couldn’t help but smile. ‘Save that for the girls yer’ve got in every port.’
‘Sit down, Corker,’ Jack said, struggling into his jacket. ‘I’ve got to go out for a few minutes, but I’ll be back before Molly’s got the glasses on the table.’
Corker took his peaked cap off and threw it on the couch before lowering himself on to a chair. ‘If you’re going far, you’ll need more than that jacket on. It’s bitter cold.’
‘I’m not goin’ far.’ Jack looked across at Molly, his eyes asking if they should tell Corker. When she nodded, Jack sat on the arm of the couch and quickly related the events of the previous night. ‘Me an’ Alec are taking them home. An’ Nobby’s going to get a piece of my mind, I can tell yer. The way I feel now, I could cheerfully clock ’im one.’
Corker stood up, his face red with anger. ‘And I’ll be right alongside yer,’ he roared. ‘It’s about time someone took Nobby Clarke down a peg or two.’ He picked up his cap, then stretched to his full height. ‘It’ll give me the greatest of pleasure to be the one to do it.’
‘Perhaps yer should stay out of it, Corker,’ Molly said, but her words were half-hearted. In her mind she was seeing Nobby’s face when he opened the door and saw this giant standing there. Oh, what wouldn’t she give to see the fear in his eyes! The same sort of fear she’d seen in Ellen’s so many times.
‘Molly’s right,’ Jack said. ‘There’s no need for you to get involved. Me an’ Alec will sort ’im out.’
