by Joan Jonker
The boys nodded, eyes downcast, shoes kicking at the paving stones. ‘Yes, Sinbad.’
‘Well now, seein’ as we’re in agreement, an’ I’m letting yez off this time, I want to ask yez a favour. When I’m away at sea, I want yez to keep an eye open for these two boys, and report to me if any bullies pick on them. Will yez do that for me?’
‘Oh, yeah, Sinbad!’ the tallest boy said. Another piped up, ‘We’ll look after them, no one will pick on them when we’re around.’
‘Good!’ Corker held back a smile. ‘Poppy off home now, but remember, I’m relying on yez.’
The group split up and sped off in all directions, leaving Corker with a smile on his face. He kept the smile fixed when he gazed down into two pairs of eager eyes, but his heart was full of compassion. Poor little blighters, he thought, just look at the state of them. Their trousers, bought from a second-hand stall at Paddy’s market, were miles too big. They reached halfway down thin legs and were kept up by a piece of string tied around the waist. Their jackets had holes in the sleeves, they had no socks on and their shoes were scuffed and worn.
Corker sighed inwardly. ‘Well, now, let’s sort you two out.’
‘We’ll be all right now, Sinbad, honest!’ Peter felt he could take the world on now. ‘Me an’ Gordon can manage.’
Corker understood the boy’s need for independence and didn’t argue. ‘I’ll see yez later, then.’ He swung his bag over his shoulder. ‘By the way, I think yez should call me Uncle Corker. Make things legal like.’
He walked away leaving the two boys happier than they’d ever been in their young lives. Fancy having Sinbad for an uncle! They’d be the envy of all the kids in the neighbourhood.
Doreen jumped from the tram platform and ran to where Jill was standing. ‘Been waiting long, our kid?’
Jill shook her head. ‘Only a few minutes.’ She tucked her arm through her sister’s and they crossed over Whitechapel to Bunny’s, the big store on the corner. ‘Let’s go straight to the dress department, then look for a pair of dancing shoes.’
Doreen’s eyes were nearly popping out of her head. ‘I’ve never been in ’ere before, it’s big, isn’t it? Not cheap though, from the looks of things. Yer’d ’ave been better going to TJ’s.’
‘No harm in looking,’ Jill said as they climbed the staircase. ‘If it’s too dear, we’ll try somewhere else.’
Doreen was in her element, her expression one of awe as she studied the dresses on the models dotted at intervals through the huge department. ‘Ay, kid, look at this. Seven guineas it is! Blimey, I could make six dresses for that.’ Then she began to look through the racks and brought one out that caught her eye. ‘This is nice, Jill, an’ it’s only four pounds.’
Jill shook her head at the light green dress. It had frills at the throat and sleeves, far too fancy for her taste.
‘Can I help you, madam?’ An assistant stood at her elbow. ‘Have you anything particular in mind?’
‘Not really. I’d like something straight and plain, but fashionable.’ Jill smiled at the assistant. ‘It’s for somewhere special, but I’d like one I could shorten so I could wear it afterwards.’
The assistant looked into her vivid blue eyes and nodded. ‘I think I may have something that would suit you.’ She walked to a rack and picked out a dress that she herself had admired, but it was far too young a style for her. With the dress draped over her arm, she admitted she was kidding herself. Age had nothing to do with it. It was the bumps and bulges that prevented her even thinking of wearing a fitted dress. She held it up for Jill’s inspection and heard the pretty young girl give a sigh of pleasure. The pale blue dress in shot silk was straight and slim, with a high mandarin collar and long narrow sleeves. It was perfectly plain, no decorations whatsoever.
‘It’s beautiful,’ Jill breathed, ‘just what I want.’ She fingered the material, loving the feel of it. ‘It probably costs more than I can afford, though.’
‘Four guineas, madam, but worth every penny. It’s a real classy dress.’ The assistant handed it over. ‘Try it on, the fitting rooms are over there.’
Doreen followed closely. ‘How much money ’ave yer got, our kid?’
‘Six pounds,’ Jill whispered back. ‘I’d still have enough for a pair of shoes.’ She drew aside the curtain which served as a door to the fitting room. ‘It’s beautiful. I hope it fits.’
While Doreen waited outside, she weighed up the passing customers. All well dressed, wearing fashionable hats and expensive shoes. ‘Must all ’ave a few bob,’ she muttered under her breath. ‘I’d ’ave to save up for a year to buy anythin’ from here.’
The curtain parted and Jill stepped out, her face aglow. ‘It fits me perfectly, just like a glove. How does it look?’
Doreen was speechless as she gazed at the vision in front of her. She had never realised her sister was so beautiful. The blue was the exact colour of her eyes, and the dress clung to every contour of her body. She looked like one of those mannequins Doreen saw in the paperback books she bought.
Jill’s smile dropped. ‘Don’t you like it?’
‘Kid, yer look a knockout! Turn around.’
The assistant had been hovering in the background. Now she came forward with a smile. ‘Madam, you look lovely.’
Jill looked down the length of the dress and grinned when she saw the toes of her plain black shoes showing beneath the hem. ‘I look a scream in these shoes, but when I’ve got a pair of silver sandals on, it’ll make all the difference.’ She turned back to the fitting room. ‘I’ll take it.’
Half an hour later they were sitting in the Kardomah with a pot of tea and toasted tea cakes in front of them. Jill’s new dress and silver sandals were in bags, carefully placed on a chair at the side of them. She had her purse open on her knee and was counting the money she had left. ‘I’ll have to borrow half a crown off me mam to pay me fares to work. I’m skint, but I don’t care, I’m so happy.’
‘I’ll pay the tram fares home,’ Doreen offered, tucking into a toasted tea cake. ‘It’s only coppers.’
‘You will not!’ Jill snapped her purse shut. ‘It’s my treat.’
‘Are yer goin’ to the pictures with Steve tonight?’ Doreen asked. ‘If yer are, we’ll ’ave to get a move on.’
That one innocent question was enough to diminish Jill’s happiness. ‘Yeah, we’re going to the flicks, but Steve’s not very pleased with me, I’m afraid. He said I shouldn’t be going out with Miles when I’m supposed to be his girlfriend.’
‘But yer not really going out with ’im, are yer?’ Doreen ran a hand over her chin where the melted butter from the tea cake had trickled down. ‘I mean, yer won’t be on yer own with him, there’ll be hundreds there.’
‘Try telling that to Steve, he just won’t listen. Every time I see him he tries to get me to change me mind.’
‘Don’t give in to ’im!’ Doreen didn’t have her sister’s gentle nature. If she thought something, she came right out with it and to hell with the consequences. ‘Start as yer mean to go on, our kid, otherwise he’ll rule yer life for yer.’
‘He’s me boyfriend, and I think the world of him.’ Jill felt guilty talking about Steve, but she was glad to have someone to confide in. ‘I wish he wasn’t so jealous, though, it spoils things.’
‘If it was me, I’d tell ’im to take a runnin’ jump!’ Doreen began to fasten the buttons on her coat. ‘Maureen’s coming to ours tonight for a game of cards, so we’d better be makin’ tracks.’ She grinned. ‘Yer won’t forget yer parcels, will yer?’
‘Not likely!’ Jill picked up the bags, wishing she had half of her sister’s cheek. But you were what nature made you, and there was nothing you could do about it.
The tension between Jill and Steve was almost tangible. She was glad when the picture was over, and as they walked out of the Carlton couldn’t even remember what it had been about. Steve had hardly spoken all night, and in the darkness of the picture house had made no attem
pt to hold her hand. She felt hurt and upset, but also a little angry. Her family had been overjoyed when she’d tried the dress and shoes on, delighted for her. But even though Steve knew she was going into town, and what for, he didn’t mention it. If only he’d show some interest, she could have shared her pleasure with him.
Jill was glad when they turned the corner of the street and her home was in sight. She did love Steve, and hated to see that hurt look on his face. But the only way to remove it was by giving in to him, and she wasn’t going to, not this time. He was being unreasonable and childish, making a mountain out of a molehill. If helping Miles out for just a few hours was wrong, then her parents would have been the first to say so.
They stood outside her house and still Steve stayed silent. He didn’t even meet her eyes, just stood staring down at the pavement. ‘I’m going in, I’m freezing.’ Jill rooted in her bag for the front door key. ‘Will I see you tomorrow?’
She heard Steve’s deep sigh before he answered, ‘Yes, okay.’ She waited a few seconds for her goodnight kiss, but when he made no move she put the key in the lock. ‘Goodnight and God bless.’
Jill closed the front door and leaned back against it. She’d never knowingly hurt anyone in her life and it grieved her to see Steve so upset. But if she gave in to him now, she’d never be able to have a mind of her own, never make a decision without first wondering whether Steve would agree with it. When they were married, and she did want to marry him, she’d need some independence, some freedom to make up her own mind about things.
Jill felt her way down the dark hallway to the chink of light showing beneath the living room door. Steve would get over it, she told herself, and perhaps it would teach him not to be so jealous.
She hesitated with her hand on the knob, fixed a smile on her face and threw the door open. ‘I’m back, Mam! Ooh, that fire looks lovely, it’s freezing out.’
‘Are yer comin’ in, Corker?’
‘No, thanks, Molly, I’m having dinner next door.’ Corker saw her raised brows but didn’t answer the question he could see in her eyes. Ellen would go mad if she thought anyone knew he’d supplied the shoulder of mutton, and the necessary vegetables and potatoes to go with it. She was busy in the kitchen now, making the first roast dinner she’d had in years. ‘I was wonderin’ if Jill would sit next door tonight, while I take Ellen out?’
‘Hang on a minute while I ask ’er.’ Molly bustled back seconds later to say, ‘Yeah, she’ll be glad to.’
‘Thanks, Molly.’ Corker made off, saying over his shoulder, ‘I’ll see yer!’
‘Enjoy yerselves!’ As Molly closed the door she asked herself what would come of Corker’s friendship with Ellen. Did he still have a soft spot for her, or was he just being kind? She shrugged her shoulders, saying softly, ‘Only time will tell.’
Jill scribbled a note to Steve, asking did he mind spending the evening in the Clarkes’? She was going to add that if he didn’t feel like it, she wouldn’t mind sitting in there on her own. But after careful consideration she decided not to. It sounded too much like an ultimatum.
‘Run up to Steve’s with this note, Ruthie, there’s a good girl. And wait for his answer.’
There were butterflies in her tummy as she helped her mother peel the potatoes. What would she do if Steve sent word back that he didn’t want to mind the Clarke children? In fact, what would she do if he said he’d finished with her? Jill dropped a peeled potato in the pan of water and reached for another. Oh, why did I ever ask Miles what he was doing for Christmas? she reproved herself. One innocent, stupid question and look at the trouble it’s caused.
Ruthie came dashing into the kitchen, a piece of chocolate clutched in her tiny hand. ‘Auntie Nellie give me some chocolate, Mam!’
‘So I see,’ Molly said, shaking her head. ‘It’s all round yer mouth and on yer coat.’
‘What did Steve say, Ruthie?’ Jill tried to sound casual.
‘Oh, er, he said okay!’ Ruthie popped the remaining chocolate in her mouth and sucked on it with a look of pure bliss on her face. ‘He’ll see yer there at half-seven.’
‘Shall we play snakes an’ ladders, or tiddlywinks?’ Phoebe asked. ‘I say snakes an’ ladders.’
‘An’ I say tiddlywinks,’ Dorothy said, just to be awkward. ‘What do you want to play, Steve?’
‘I don’t care what we play,’ he said. ‘Please yerselves.’
‘Have yer got a cob on?’ Phoebe asked with childish openness. ‘Yer don’t ’alf look miserable.’
‘I’ve got a headache.’ It was no lie, Steve had been suffering a constant headache for days. He knew he was being ridiculous, behaving like a big soft kid, sulking because he couldn’t get his own way. But no amount of self-recrimination could alter the way he felt. Lying in bed at night, he tortured himself by allowing images to enter his mind. Images of Jill being held close in the circle of this bloke’s arms as they danced. Sometimes the picture was so real, he could see Miles bending to whisper in her ear, his manner possessive. Steve had tried to banish the images from his mind, but they persisted in haunting him and the torment was driving him mad. If Jill loved me as much as I love her, he thought, she wouldn’t do this to me.
‘We’ll play tiddlywinks.’ Jill couldn’t stand the silence any longer. She emptied the coloured discs out of the box and set the egg-cup in the middle of the table. Then she looked directly into Steve’s eyes. ‘Phoebe, Steve’s telling fibs. He has got a cob on. With me. You see, I’m going out on Friday night, but he doesn’t want me to go.’
‘Oooh, er!’ Dorothy stopped dividing the counters out to stare at Steve. ‘Why don’t yer want ’er to go?’
Steve ignored the girl’s question, his eyes fixed on Jill. ‘So yer still going?’
‘Yes, Steve, I’m still going,’ Jill answered. ‘I made a promise and I don’t break promises.’
‘What about me?’ His voice was loud and angry. ‘Don’t yer care what I think?’
The two young girls rested their elbows on the table, their round eyes going from Jill to Steve. This was more exciting than a game of tiddlywinks.
‘You know I care what you think, Steve.’ Jill’s voice was quiet. ‘But this time I think you’re in the wrong.’
‘Oh, yer do, do yer!’ He scraped back his chair. ‘In that case, there’s nothin’ more to be said! I’m goin’ home.’
Jill closed her eyes when the slam of the front door reverberated through the house. Tears were stinging the backs of her eyes but she willed them not to fall. She had two curious young faces gazing at her.
‘Does that mean yer won’t be gettin’ married?’ Dorothy queried. ‘Isn’t Steve yer boyfriend any more?’
Phoebe, at eleven years of age, was much wiser. She could see Jill was upset so she remained silent. But there was a sadness in her heart for the two people who had been so kind to her. And she thought they made a lovely couple, like Cinderella and Prince Charming.
Jill sighed, wishing she was sure the words she was about to utter were true. ‘Of course he’s still me boyfriend! We’ve just had a falling out, that’s all. Everyone has a tiff now and then, but we’ll get over it.’ She picked up one of the playing counters. ‘Come on, let’s play. A penny for the winner.’
Chapter Twenty-One
‘It was only a thought, Molly me darlin’, but I wondered if Jill would like to borrow this to wear tonight?’ Bridie asked, as she carefully folded back layer after layer of tissue paper. ‘I haven’t worn it meself for over thirty years, an’ ’tis a shame for it to be lyin’ in a drawer, never seeing daylight, so it is.’
As her mother held up the white shawl, crocheted in wool so fine it was as delicate as a spider’s web, Molly gasped with pleasure. ‘Oh, Ma, I haven’t seen that since I was a little girl! It must be as old as me, yet it still looks brand new! Oh, it’s beautiful. Our Jill will be as pleased as Punch. She’s been worried about what to wear with her dress, ’cos the only coat she’s got is the one she goes to work in.’
Jack leaned forward for a closer inspection. ‘You made this, did yer, Ma? I’ve never seen anythin’ as beautiful. It must ’ave taken yer ages to make.’
‘Aye, son, it did that! Many’s the long hour I sat by the fire with me crochet hook goin’ like the clappers.’ Bridie folded the shawl carefully and laid it back in the tissue paper. ‘I only wore it once, when Pa took me to the Empire. After that, well, what with one thing and another I never had occasion to wear it.’ She handed it to Molly, saying, ‘D’yer want to take it up to Jill, see if she likes it?’
‘Oh, she’ll like it, Ma, never fear,’ said Molly. ‘She’ll be over the moon. But I won’t take it up, yer can give it her yerself when she comes down. She’s been hours gettin’ herself ready. Anyone would think she was goin’ to see the Queen.’
The door burst open and Doreen, flushed of face, ran in. ‘She’s comin’ down now.’
Jill held her dress up as she came slowly down the stairs in case the hem got caught in the high heels of her silver sandals. Her mouth was dry with nerves and she felt sick to her stomach. Her reflection in the long wardrobe mirror told her she looked good; the dress fitted her to perfection and her long blonde hair was shining like silk. But it wasn’t enough to calm the myriad of emotions coursing through her body. Sadness and anxiety because she hadn’t seen Steve since the night at the Clarkes’ house, worry that her dress wasn’t suitable, and fear that she wouldn’t know how to conduct herself with people who were of a different class from herself.
She stepped from the bottom stair and smoothed the dress down over her hips. In two days it would be Christmas Eve. Steve was bound to come around then. He wouldn’t let Christmas pass without making it up. With that comforting thought, Jill forced a smile to her face and opened the door. She heard silence descend, saw the unsmiling faces and thought, They don’t think I look nice. Tears were beginning to form when everyone started talking at once. ‘Jill, me darlin’,’ Bridie said, ‘’tis a wonderful sight yer are for me old eyes.’
