by Joan Jonker
Molly wasn’t going to tell her Peter was nowhere near ten. ‘Wouldn’t need a bike,’ she said, having worked it all out in her head, ‘he could take them in a pram! Mary Watson’s got that big pram she ’ad when Bella was a baby, it’s only standin’ in the yard doin’ nothing.’
‘Oh, no!’ Maisie shook her head vigorously. ‘I’d be out of me mind with worry. He’s too little, he wouldn’t be able to carry the boxes.’
‘He’s only little, but he’s wiry,’ Molly said. ‘Give the kid a chance, Maisie, try ’im with a small order first. If he can’t do it, then there’s nothin’ lost, but give him a try. Yer know as well as I do, every penny that goes in that house is like sixpence in any other. They’re on their uppers, especially now, with Christmas comin’ on.’
Maisie blew through her clenched teeth. ‘Yer’d get blood out of a stone, Molly Bennett! Playing on me heart strings, that’s what yer doing.’ The shop bell jangled when the door opened and a customer came in. ‘I’ll give ’im a try, but be it on your head if anythin’ goes wrong.’
Molly was smiling as she struggled into her coat. ‘Ta, Maisie, yer won’t be sorry, I promise yer.’
Molly hurried down the street muttering to herself, ‘Even if I ’ave to push the flaming pram meself, I’ll make sure Peter gets the job. If there’s a few coppers to be had, they’re better goin’ in the Clarkes’ house than anywhere else.’
‘Mary, d’yer know that pram of your Bella’s, ’ave yer still got it?’ Molly waited anxiously for the reply. If Mary had given the pram away, all her scheming would have been in vain.
‘Yes, it’s in the yard.’ Mary leaned back against the door jamb. ‘It’s no good, yer know, been out there for ages, in all weathers.’
‘It’s just the job for what I want it for.’ Molly explained quickly, with Mary’s eyes growing wider as the story unfolded. ‘So yer wouldn’t mind lendin’ it, would yer?’
‘With the best will in the world, Molly, I can’t see Peter bein’ up to it.’ Mary’s face showed her doubt. ‘Yer can have the pram by all means, but it won’t work out.’
‘If we don’t try, we won’t know.’ Molly rubbed her hands together. ‘But I bet yer a tanner it does.’
Miles Sedgewick glanced across the office at Jill’s bent head. As he watched, her hand came up to sweep the long blonde hair back over her shoulders. ‘Looking forward to Christmas, are you, Jill?’
‘Oh, yes, Mr Miles! I love Christmas, it’s my favourite time of the year.’ Jill’s vivid blue eyes were sparkling. ‘I know it sounds childish, but I love the tree, the decorations and the excitement of opening presents. And everyone is so happy and friendly, I just wish it was Christmas all the year round.’
That’s the nice thing about her, Miles thought, she’s so open, honest and unaffected. There were no fluttering eyelashes or coy looks. Not like some of the girls he knew. And she wasn’t always nipping out to the toilet to comb her hair or renew her lipstick. Not that she needed to, she was so pretty she didn’t need any embellishment. ‘I suppose you’ll be going to lots of parties?’
Jill shook her head. ‘Me mam’s having some friends in on Christmas night, but that’s all. How about you, Mr Miles, what have you got lined up for the festive season?’
‘I wish you wouldn’t call me Mr Miles, it’s so formal!’
‘All the staff call you that, and I’m one of the staff. I can’t remember to call you Mr outside this office, then drop it in here.’ She grinned. ‘Anyway, you haven’t answered my question.’
This was the opening Miles had been waiting all week for. ‘I’m in a bit of a quandary, actually. My father belongs to a gentlemen’s club, and once a year they have a dinner when they’re allowed to bring their wives or girlfriends. I’ve been invited this year, but unfortunately I don’t have a female companion to take.’
Jill looked surprised. ‘Oh, come on, Mr Miles, a man like you must have loads of girlfriends.’
‘I hate to disillusion you, Jill, but I haven’t! I’ve been studying so hard for the last few years I haven’t had time to socialise.’ Miles tapped the end of his pen on the blotting paper pad and watched as the ink spread, making a pattern. He kept his face averted to hide the calculating gleam in his eyes. ‘I can’t go to the dinner without a companion, so I need someone to take pity on me. I don’t suppose you would consider it, would you, Jill?’
She was stunned at the way the conversation had turned. She didn’t know how to refuse without offending him. He was, after all, her employer’s son, and if the office gossip was right, in a few years he’d be a junior partner in the firm. ‘Oh, I don’t think so, Mr Miles. You know I have a boyfriend and he wouldn’t like the idea of me going out with anyone else.’
But Miles wasn’t going to be put off so easily. ‘Surely he would understand it was just a favour? It wouldn’t be like going out on a date with me, there’ll be about a hundred people there. I could pick you up in the car and drop you off again, no harm done.’ His brows drew together. ‘He’s not one of these jealous types, is he, doesn’t trust you out of his sight?’
‘No, of course not! Steve has no reason not to trust me!’ Jill wished someone would come into the office and put an end to this conversation and her embarrassment. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Miles, but I’d rather not come. It’s not that I don’t want to help you, because I really would like to, but you see I’ve never been out to a dinner before and I don’t have anything suitable to wear.’
‘Nonsense!’ He tilted his head and grinned. ‘No matter what you wore, Jill, I bet you’d be the prettiest girl there.’ He thought she was weakening, and coaxed, ‘Take pity on me in my hour of need, please? You’d be doing me an enormous favour, and I’d be very grateful.’
Jill felt cornered. If she told him Steve would be jealous, it would sound as though she was being big-headed, reading more into his request than there really was. And when you came to think about it, what harm was there in what he was asking? He merely wanted a partner for the evening, nothing more. Just someone to make the numbers up.
Jill crossed the room to the filing cabinet. Her fingers flicked over the alphabetically filed folders until she found the one she needed. Walking back to her desk she could feel Miles’ eyes on her and flushed under his gaze.
‘Well, Jill?’ Miles asked. ‘Will you be my fairy godmother, or do I not get to go to the ball?’
She took a deep breath. There were many reasons why she didn’t want to go, apart from Steve who she knew would go mad. For a start, she’d have to buy a suitable long dress and evening shoes, things she would probably never wear again. And all the people there would be posh, like Miles and his father were. She’d be terrified of opening her mouth and putting her foot in it.
As Jill searched for an excuse to refuse, an argument raged in her head. Wasn’t it a bit mean to refuse to help him out when he’d been so good to her? She remembered when she’d first started in the office and didn’t know the ropes, how Miles had always been there to advise and explain. He’d been very patient and she’d have been lost without him because the other secretaries were usually too busy to spend much time with her.
‘Will you let me think it over, Mr Miles, and I’ll let you know tomorrow?’ Jill managed a weak smile. ‘I’ll have to see what me mam and dad say.’ Not for the world would she admit it was Steve’s reaction that worried her.
‘I’ll come and ask them if you like,’ he offered. ‘Show myself and put their minds at rest. I’ll even come and see your Steve, if it would help.’
‘No!’ Jill said quickly. ‘I’ll have a word with them tonight. When is it, by the way?’
‘Next Friday.’ Miles smiled. ‘So it wouldn’t interfere with your Christmas arrangements.’ He lifted his hand and crossed two fingers. ‘I’ll keep these crossed until tomorrow.’
Jill smiled before opening the folder on her desk. I’ll need to do more than cross my fingers when I ask Steve, she told herself. He’ll blow his top!
Chapter Twent
y
‘Ooh, I say, the Bennetts are goin’ up in the world!’ As Molly leaned across the table it crossed her mind that Jill didn’t look like someone who’d been invited out by her boss to a posh dinner dance. ‘Where did yer say this do is?’
‘I didn’t ask because I won’t be going.’ Jill pulled a face. ‘How can I, Mam? I haven’t got the clothes for a kick off.’
‘I’ll make yer a dress!’ Doreen offered, feeling green with envy. ‘Yer’d be daft not to go, our Jill, I would if I ’ad the chance.’
‘It’s next Friday, there wouldn’t be time to make a dress. Besides, it would have to be something special or I’d stand out like a sore thumb.’
‘Yer’ve got a few bob saved up, buy yerself a nice dress,’ Molly said, excitement for her daughter glowing on her face. ‘An’ a nice pair of silver dancin’ shoes with straps.’
‘It’s not only that, Mam, it’s the other people. They’ll all talk frightfully far back, like Miles and his dad. I’d feel daft, terrified of opening me mouth.’
Jack had remained quiet, just eating his meal and listening, taking it all in. Now he laid down his knife and fork, and when he spoke his voice was full of emotion. ‘Jill, you’re as good as anyone, don’t ever forget that!’ He looked from Doreen to Tommy. ‘Don’t any one of yer forget it. Because people speak differently, it doesn’t mean they’re better than yer. It’s what you are inside that counts.’
‘Yer dad’s right, sunshine,’ Molly said, her mouth pursed. ‘We’re as good as anyone.’
‘But what about Steve?’ Jill’s face clouded. ‘I don’t think he’d be very happy if I went.’
‘Steve!’ Molly laughed. ‘He won’t mind! Why should he? Hell, it’s only a dinner yer goin’ to, an’ yer only goin’ to help Mr Miles out. What could Steve find wrong with that? Yer see him every night, so one without won’t kill ’im.’
‘I wouldn’t care what Steve thought,’ Doreen said. ‘It’s not as though yer engaged or anythin’. If I ’ad a chance like that, I’d jump at it.’
‘What do you think, Dad?’ Jill asked, needing some assurance to give her the courage to tell Steve. ‘Shall I go?’
‘I don’t see why not, love,’ Jack told her as he cut into a potato. ‘But there’s a few things I’d like to know for me own peace of mind. Where is it yer going, what time is it on till, and does your Mr Miles understand yer too young to be walkin’ home on yer own late at night?’
‘Oh, he said he’d pick me up in his car and bring me home again,’ Jill said. ‘In fact, he said he’d come and see you if you were worried about me going out with someone you didn’t know. But honestly, Dad, you have no need to worry. He’s a nice bloke, and it isn’t as though he’s got designs on me or anything. The only reason he asked me is because he hasn’t got a girlfriend. He’s too wrapped up in his studies to be interested in girls.’
‘Will yer be goin’ into town to buy yerself a dress?’ Doreen asked. ‘If yer are, can I come with yer on Saturday afternoon?’
‘What do you think, Mam?’ Jill was still unsure. ‘Shall I go?’
Molly nodded. ‘Make the most of it, sunshine, yer may never get another chance.’ She patted her daughter’s hand. ‘Yer can tell us ’ow the other half live.’
With all her family in agreement, Jill felt easier. As her mam said, she might never get another chance so should make the most of it. She turned to Doreen. ‘I’ll meet you in town on Saturday. Come straight from work otherwise we won’t have much time to look around. I’ll mug you to a cup of tea and a toasted tea cake in the Kardomah.’
Doreen rubbed her hands, her face beaming. ‘The gear! Where shall we try first?’
‘I sometimes look in Bunny’s window in me dinner hour.’ Jill was beginning to feel excited. ‘I’ve never been inside, but they have some lovely dresses in the window. There’s a tram stop in Lord Street, right by it, so I could meet you there.’
When Steve knocked, Jill had her coat on ready. Her mam had said Steve wouldn’t mind her going to the dinner, but Jill wasn’t so sure and decided it would be better if they were alone when she told him. Her family’s support had given her courage, but as they walked down the street, arms linked, her nerve began to desert her. Still, she thought, he’s got to be told sometime, so better get it over with.
‘Guess what happened today?’ Jill began the story with a silent Steve walking beside her. His eyes staring straight ahead, he didn’t utter a word until she ended by saying, ‘I’m meeting Doreen on Saturday to look for a dress.’
She was expecting moans and protests, but wasn’t prepared for his anger. He stopped walking and pulled her round to face him. ‘Yer not going!’
‘Why not? Me mam and dad said I can.’ Jill looked into his face and saw the flared nostrils and the angry red blotches on his cheeks. ‘Let go of me arms, Steve, you’re hurting me.’
‘Not until yer promise yer won’t go.’
Jill, gentle by nature, would usually give in rather than argue. But not this time. Steve was being so unfair she wasn’t prepared to give in. ‘I’m not promising anything, Steve McDonough, so let go of me arms.’
The tone of her voice warned Steve he had gone too far. Releasing her, he hung his head. ‘I’m sorry, Jill! I didn’t mean to hurt yer, but I don’t want yer to go out with that Miles feller.’
‘Why not? It’s only for one night, for heaven’s sake, I’m not going to marry him!’
‘Because you’re my girl, that’s why.’ Steve’s eyes were pleading. ‘Don’t go, Jill, for my sake. Yer know I’ve had a feeling about this Miles bloke for a long time, thought he ’ad his eye on yer. You wouldn’t have it, but now I’ve been proved right. What a lame excuse, sayin’ he didn’t ’ave time for girls.’
‘Steve, you’ve got a bad mind. And you’re not only calling Mr Miles a liar, you’re calling me one, too!’
‘I don’t think you’re a liar, but I think yer’ve been taken in by him. He’s pullin’ a fast one on yer, can’t yer see?’ Steve made to take her hand but Jill pulled away. ‘Don’t do it, Jill, please?’
‘I’m not going to stand here all night arguing, Steve,’ she said. ‘If you’re not going to drop the subject, I’m going home.’
Steve stared. Gone was the naive girl he was used to, her place taken by a young woman who was poised and self-assured. He loved her so much it hurt, but he had calmed down enough to realise if he didn’t curb his jealousy he was in danger of losing her. If he’d kept a rein on his temper he could probably have coaxed her around, but now all he’d done was rub her up the wrong way. Tomorrow he’d do it differently. ‘Okay, I give in. I won’t say another word about it tonight, I promise.’ He held out his hands, a penitent expression on his face. ‘Don’t let’s fall out, I couldn’t bear it.’
‘Me neither!’ Jill sighed as she linked her hand through his arm. ‘Come on, let’s go for a walk.’
‘Hold the boxes so they don’t fall off.’ Young Peter Clarke pulled down on the handle of the big Silver Cross pram and pushed it on to the pavement, while his younger brother, Gordon, steadied the pile of boxes.
‘Where to now, our Peter?’ Gordon wiped his sleeve across his runny nose, leaving a streak of dirt in its wake.
‘Number twenty-six.’ Peter touched the top box. ‘Mind ’ow yer go with that one, it’s got eggs in.’
Just then a group of older boys turned the corner. They stopped in their tracks when they saw the Clarke brothers and began to whisper between themselves. Then they walked around the pram, laughing into the frightened faces of Peter and Gordon. ‘Where’s yer dad, eh? In the loony bin, isn’t he?’ A lad of fourteen cuffed Gordon across the side of his head while the others chanted, ‘His dad’s doolally, ’is dad’s doolally.’
Peter threw his body across the pram, terrified that if the eggs got broken he’d lose his job. ‘Go away an’ leave us alone.’ He was sorry now he hadn’t let Mrs Bennett come with them. She’d been with them on the first delivery, but he’d wanted to do t
his one on his own. If he did well, the woman in the corner shop said she’d give him a little job to do every week. That meant pocket money every week, something he’d never had. Now these big boys had come along to spoil it. ‘Why don’t yez leave us alone? We’re not doin’ yer no harm.’
But the boys were enjoying themselves with such an easy target. Running around the pram, they pulled faces and shouted, ‘All the Clarkes are doolally, doolally, doolally!’
So intent were they in terrorising their two victims, they didn’t see Corker turn the corner. He took in the scene in a flash, threw his bag on the ground and stood before them, feet well apart.
‘Well now, what’s goin’ on here?’ his voice boomed. ‘Having a bit of fun, are we?’
The boys stood like statues, not daring to move, hardly breathing. Corker stared them out until in the end the ringleader muttered, ‘We were only playin’ around, Sinbad.’
‘Oh, is that what it was? Well, aren’t you the brave ones, eh? Picking on two little fellers who can’t fight back. I think yer cowards, so what d’yer say to that? Nobody got a tongue in their head?’
Peter and Gordon were standing upright, their chests bursting with pride, while their tormentors hung their heads in shame.
‘Answer me, boys!’ Corker roared. ‘Unless yez want me to drag yez home an’ tell yer mothers how brave yez are!’ When there was no reply, he said, ‘Perhaps I should put yez across me knee and give yez a thrashing, what d’yer say to that?’
The ringleader craned his neck to look up into the giant’s face. ‘We’re sorry, Sinbad, we won’t do it again. Don’t tell me mam or she’ll batter me.’
There were mumbled apologies from the other lads. The choice between a hiding from their mother or Corker was like choosing between the devil and the deep blue sea.
Corker bent to ask Peter what he was doing with the pram. He listened intently, all the while keeping his eyes on the group to make sure they didn’t scarper. He nodded, then straightened up. ‘When I turned the corner yez were sayin’ someone was doolally. I think it’s you lot who are doolally, but that’s beside the point. What is the point, an’ I’d advise yez to keep it in mind, is that Mr Clarke had a bad accident an’ is in hospital. While he’s there, I promised to be a father to his children, look after them like. So in future, if yer’ve anythin’ to say about the family, say it to me ’cos I’m their dad for the time being. Have yez all got that?’
