by Joan Jonker
‘I’ll not be blaming the man, for it’s a frightening prospect, so it is. And I’ll not be letting a mate down in his hour of need.’
Mick, who had been listening with interest, wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. ‘That was really tasty, Mam, I didn’t half enjoy it.’
‘It does me heart good to know that, son.’ Molly stood up and began to gather in the plates. ‘I’ll get these washed and then take meself over the road.’
‘I’m not doing anything tonight, Mam, I could give a hand stripping the walls.’
‘What! A young lad with a gang of old women? Yer’d be bored stiff in ten minutes, me darlin’, so yer would.’
‘Jenny’s not an old woman, Mam.’
‘Jenny! What’s Jenny got to do with it?’
When Mick smiled, his eyes twinkled, his teeth shone and his dimples deepened. ‘Well, it’s like this, Mam. I’m waiting for her to grow up so I can ask her to be me girlfriend. And I just thought that rather than waste me time while I’m waiting, I could put it to good use by getting to know her better.’
Seamus let his head drop back and roared with laughter. ‘It’s good taste yer have, son, and it’s right that yer don’t let the grass grow under yer feet.’
Molly plonked herself down again. ‘If Mary Nightingale could hear you two, she’d box yer ears for yer. The girl’s only fourteen, for heaven’s sake!’
‘Fourteen and seven months, to be exact, Mam.’ Mick’s grin didn’t falter. Nothing was going to put him off. ‘I’m waiting until she’s fifteen, then I’ll ask her mam and dad if I can take her to the pictures.’
‘D’yer not think it would be better to ask the girl herself, first?’ Seamus asked, highly amused. ‘Unless it’s her mother yer want to take to the pictures.’
‘Seamus Moynihan, don’t yer be putting ideas into the boy’s head. Jenny’s a lovely girl and I’m very fond of her, but she’s only fourteen.’ Molly leaned over and patted her son’s hand. ‘Bide yer time, sweetheart, let her grow up a bit first.’
‘It’s a short memory yer have, me darlin’,’ Seamus said, a loving smile on his face. ‘Sure, how old were you when I started calling on yer?’
‘I was older than Jenny is,’ Molly said, blushing. ‘Quite a bit older.’
‘It’s forgetful ye’re getting in yer old age, me darlin’, because yer were fourteen when we started walking out together. I remember it as clear as anything. My mother told me to wait, like ye’re telling Mick, here. But I wasn’t having any of that, indeed I wasn’t. Yer were the prettiest girl in the village and I wasn’t going to take a chance on another boy coming along and claiming yer for himself.’
Molly had a faraway look in her eyes as memories came flooding back. If the young, handsome Seamus Moynihan hadn’t made the first move, sure wouldn’t she have thrown all caution to the wind and made it herself? There’d been plenty of lads giving her the eye, right enough, but there was only one she ever wanted. The first time he’d looked into her eyes he’d stolen her heart, and it was still in his possession.
‘Haven’t yer always said, Mam, that I take after me dad?’ Mick took advantage of the situation. ‘Well, this proves how right yer were.’
Molly tutted as she pushed herself to her feet. ‘So the two men in me life are taking sides against me, eh? Well, I’ll have no part of it, me lips stay sealed.’
‘Could yer not open them a little bit and put in a good word for me?’ Mick grinned. ‘Tell Mrs Nightingale I come highly recommended by yerself? Yer could drop little hints, like what a good bloke I am, and how handy I am around the house. I mean, yer could even go as far as to say I’d make someone a good husband.’
Molly was chuckling silently as she made her way to the kitchen door. There she turned, and said, ‘Yer’ve cheek enough for anything, so yer have, Michael Moynihan. I’d not be surprised if yer didn’t ask me to propose to Jenny for yer.’
‘Oh, I’ve a long way to go before then, Mam. But I’ll certainly bear yer offer in mind ’cos I might just need a bit of help. Especially as John Hanley has his eye on her as well, and he has the advantage of living next door to her.’
Molly put the dishes on the drainboard then stood for a while, deep in thought. They’d been pulling her leg and she’d fallen for it like a ton of bricks. She should have had more sense, knowing Mick was as bad as his father for acting daft. So she walked back into the living room with her hands on her hips. ‘I’ve a good mind to turn the tables on yer, Mick Moynihan, and tell Mary all yer’ve said.’
‘Oh yes, please, Mam! I knew yer wouldn’t let me down. Yer see, if I don’t pull me socks up, John will get in before me and I won’t stand a chance.’ Mick’s grin was wide. ‘For all I know, they might be tapping messages to each other through the bedroom wall.’
Molly shook her head. ‘The joke’s over now, me darlin’, so let it rest. But yer had me going for a while, I have to admit.’
‘Mam, it wasn’t a joke, I’ve never been more serious in me life. I want Jenny Nightingale to be me girlfriend, and when we’re older, I want her to be me wife.’
Molly looked across at Seamus. ‘Is he having me on?’
‘I’d say he was very serious, me darlin’, and I have to say I’m altogether surprised that yer haven’t noticed how often he stands at the window waiting for Jenny to put in an appearance. He’s fair smitten with the girl, so he is.’
‘He’ll get fair smitten if Mary or Stan hear about it. And what’s this about John? He’s yer best mate!’
‘I know he’s me best mate, Mam, but not where Jenny’s concerned. We’ve both agreed that it’s every man for himself, and may the best man win. And I’m sure yer wouldn’t like yer son to be anything but the best, would yer? I mean, there’s such a thing as family pride, blood being thicker than water, and all that.’
‘I’m fair flummoxed, and that’s putting it mildly,’ Molly said. ‘Are yer telling me that John has his eye on Jenny, and he knows you do, too?’
‘Yeah, I told him ages ago. In this very house, in fact.’
‘And what did he say to that?’
‘Told me to get in the queue.’ Mick’s laugh ricocheted off the walls. ‘But I told him there was no queue, we stood side by side at the starting line.’
‘I give up.’ Molly glanced at the clock and tutted. ‘I’m leaving you two to wash the dishes, I should be over the road by now, they’ll think I’m not coming.’ She got to the door and hesitated. ‘Any boy who needs his mother’s help to get a girl, Mick Moynihan, doesn’t deserve her, and that’s the truth of it.’ With those parting words, she banged the front door behind her and hurried across the cobbles chuckling to herself. Sure, wouldn’t she be the happiest woman in the world to have Jenny Nightingale for a daughter-in-law?
‘Amy, for heaven’s sake will yer be careful on that ladder?’ Mary’s heart was in her mouth as she watched the ladder swaying. ‘Come on down and I’ll scrape the top half while you do the bottom. I’m not getting anything done for keeping me eyes on you. Yer’ve got me a nervous wreck.’
‘I’m all right, girl, honest!’ Pressing a hand against the wall for support, Amy turned. With a broad grin on her chubby face, she winked. ‘If I did fall, girl, I’d only bounce back up again.’
Mary screwed her eyes up tight and scratched her nose. ‘Molly, will yer just look at the state of this one. Her face is filthy, there’s bits of wallpaper stuck in her hair, the top button on her dress has come off and she’s showing all she’s got. It’s a good job the men have gone out otherwise I wouldn’t know where to put me face.’
Glad of the break, Molly came to stand next to Mary. ‘Sure, if the men knew what they were missing, they’d be home like a shot, so they would. There’s not many women got as much to show as Amy has, she’s certainly well endowed, right enough.’
When Amy squared her shoulders the ladder swayed precariously and both women ran forward to steady it. ‘What d’yer mean, Molly Moynihan, about me being well endowed?’
‘She me
ans yer’ve got a big bust, soft girl, and yer not half showing it.’ Mary tugged on Amy’s skirt. ‘Come down and set me mind at rest.’
‘The only thing that’ll bring me down this ladder is a cup of tea.’ Amy pursed her lips and nodded. ‘Ye’re a lousy boss, Mary Nightingale, yer don’t look after yer workers proper.’ Gripping the sides of the ladder like grim death, and testing each rung before putting her full weight on it, she came down slowly. ‘Get that bleedin’ kettle on, girl, before I clock yer one.’
‘A fifteen-minute break, that’s all we’re having.’ Mary wagged a finger in front of her friend’s nose. ‘Yer don’t leave here tonight until all these walls are stripped.’
‘Ye’re a hard woman, Mary Nightingale,’ Amy shouted after her. ‘Ye’re worse than the priest in Saint Anthony’s – at least he only gives yer six Hail Marys. Ten minutes and yer’ve paid for yer sins and all is forgiven.’
‘That’s because yer only tell him the little sins. If yer told him what yer really get up to, yer’d still be saying yer prayers when they closed the church and yer’d be locked in.’
‘Ay, now, girl, we’ll have less of that! I may be big in the bust, but me lies are only ever little white ones.’
‘I’ll believe yer where thousands wouldn’t.’ Mary grinned as she made her way to the kitchen. And after striking a match under the kettle, she leaned against the sink and listened to her two neighbours.
‘Ay, Molly,’ Amy asked, ‘does well endowed apply to all women with big breasts?’
‘Well, now, me darlin’, it doesn’t only apply to them. People can be endowed in many ways. With a good figure, nice hair, caring nature and good sense of humour.’
‘But it means big, doesn’t it? Like my breasts?’
‘I suppose yer could say that, me darlin’, loosely speaking, of course.’
‘Then my Ben is well endowed, too! He’s—’
Amy’s words were cut off when Mary’s hand covered her mouth. She’d had a feeling her friend was going to come out with something outrageous and she’d shot out of the kitchen like a streak of greased lightning. ‘Don’t you dare, Amy Hanley, don’t you dare.’
Amy’s eyes were wide and innocent. Brushing her friend’s hand away, she asked, in injured tones, ‘In the name of God, girl, what’s this in aid of? I haven’t said nothing wrong.’
‘No, but yer were going to. I know you, Amy Hanley, and I wouldn’t trust yer as far as I could throw yer. D’yer want to shock Molly to the core?’
‘I don’t know what ye’re on about, girl! All I said was that my Ben is well endowed. I can’t see nothing in that to shock Molly – especially to the bleedin’ core.’
‘Well, just leave it at that, sunshine, ’cos we don’t want to know how, when or where, your Ben is well endowed. Keep yer bedroom secrets to yerself.’
Amy’s tummy was rumbling with laughter but she managed to keep a straight face. ‘Oh, my Ben’s not only well endowed in the bedroom, girl, he’s the same everywhere he goes. I mean, I can’t help it if I’ve got big breasts, no more than he can help what the Good Lord granted him. And fair’s fair, girl, credit where it’s due. There’s not a man in this street who’s got a bigger nose than my Ben.’
Amy’s eyes went from Mary to Molly, waiting for their reaction. And when the laughter came it nearly lifted the roof. Mary held her tummy as she doubled up, tears running down her cheeks, while Molly, head back and loud guffaws coming from her open mouth, beat her fists on the arms of the chair. ‘Glory be to God,’ she gasped, ‘have yer ever in yer whole life met a woman like her?’
‘Ay, there’s nowt wrong with me, Molly Moynihan, me mind’s as pure as a baby’s. But you two, well … yer’ve got minds like muck-middens. Dirty pair of buggers, that’s what yer are. Just wait until I tell my Ben yer were making fun of his nose.’
Mary reached into the pocket of her pinny for a handkerchief. She gave her nose a good blow before saying, ‘And just wait until I tell my Stan we couldn’t get any work done for you talking the legs off us. We’ll never get this room finished tonight.’
‘Oh now, have faith, me darlin’,’ Molly said. ‘You see to that pot of tea while me and Amy go at it like the clappers. These walls will be stripped before the men come home, so they will. Even if we die in the attempt.’
‘Ooh, ay, I don’t like the sound of that,’ Amy said. Her lips were pursed as she shook her head, her legs dangling six inches from the floor. ‘I don’t mind going like the clappers, I’ll pull me weight as good as the next one. But I don’t fancy this dying in the attempt lark. I knew a woman once who said that, and d’yer know what happened to her? She died, that’s what! And she stayed dead, into the bargain. I don’t fancy that happening to me, not when I’ve just joined the ranks of the well endowed.’
Mary jumped to her feet. ‘Oh God, she’s off again! Get cracking, Amy Hanley, and not another word out of you until we’re finished.’
‘Not even to say “thank you” for the cup of tea? If we ever bleedin’ get one.’ Amy winked. ‘Okay, okay, I’m starting. And I’ll work that bloody fast yer won’t see me arms moving. You just watch, girl, I’ll make Buster Keaton look as though he’s standing still and the Keystone Cops are closing in on him.’
Cynthia closed the door behind her and linked her arm through Laura’s as they set off down the street. ‘Where shall we go?’
‘The Prisoner of Zenda is on at the Atlas, and one of the women in work said it’s marvellous. Thrilling, frightening and dead sad. We’d be in time for the big picture if we hurry.’
Cynthia pulled a face. ‘I’m not in the mood for crying or sitting with me eyes closed all night. Couldn’t we go and see a comedy?’
‘It won’t make yer cry, soft girl, it’s only a picture. Anyway, we could stay on and see the shorts, there’s bound to be something on to make yer laugh.’
‘Oh, all right.’ Cynthia gave in because she had other things on her mind. ‘Ye’re still coming with me tomorrow night, to meet Larry and Jeff, aren’t yer?’
Laura took a deep breath. She’d been dreading this. ‘I can’t come with yer, not tomorrow, anyway. It’s me birthday and me mam’s making a little tea for me, just for a couple of the neighbours and John Hanley and Mick Moynihan.’
Cynthia pulled her to a halt. ‘Yer gave me yer word that yer’d come! Ye’re not backing out now, Laura Nightingale, or I’ll never speak to yer again. I’d look a right fool, telling Jeff yer’ve gone to a kids’ tea-party. He’ll think we’re giving him the round-around, and he won’t be very happy – neither will Larry.’ Her face like thunder, Cynthia began to walk away. ‘If yer don’t come with me tomorrow night, then we’re finished. Please yerself.’
Laura hesitated for a few seconds before hurrying to catch up with her friend. What was the point of telling a lie to get out of something she didn’t want to do, when she was going to have to tell another one next week? ‘Cynthia, don’t let’s fall out over it.’
‘You’re the one that’s falling out, not me,’ Cynthia answered, keeping up the fast pace. ‘Real friends don’t make promises and then break them. And all for the sake of a stupid flaming party! What a lame excuse that is.’
‘There is no party, that was a lie.’
The words brought Cynthia to an abrupt halt. ‘So, ye’re coming tomorrow night, after all?’
Laura shook her head. ‘No, not tomorrow night nor any other night. I’ve tried to talk meself into it because ye’re me mate and I didn’t want to let yer down. But I don’t want to see Jeff again because he scares me. He’s too old for me, same as Larry is too old for you. They’ve both been around and are out for what they can get. A glass of sherry and then down a dark entry with any woman who’s daft enough to go with them. On their way home to their wives and kids, they probably laugh themselves sick over how easy some girls are.’
‘You speak for yerself, Laura Nightingale. Anyone would think yer were an angel, to hear yer talk. And I’m not just any woman to Larry; he really like
s me, so there.’
‘If he likes yer that much, he’d have told yer all about his family and where he lives. But I bet he hasn’t.’ When her friend didn’t answer, Laura persisted. ‘Well, has he?’
‘What’s it got to do with you? I don’t have to tell you nothing.’
‘No, yer don’t, Cynthia. You do what yer want to do. If yer want to go out with Larry, then you do that. But don’t expect me to go out with someone I don’t like, just to please yer. All yer’ve got to do is to tell Jeff that I’ve got a boyfriend now. He can’t argue with that, can he? And if he does get a cob on, so what? There’s plenty of girls about, let him find one for himself instead of pestering me through you. I don’t like him, I think he could be dangerous if he didn’t get his own way, and he hasn’t got a snowball’s chance in hell of getting me down an entry ever again.’
‘Well, I think ye’re dead mean. It wouldn’t hurt yer to come with me just this once, to save me looking a fool. I’d never ask yer again. Anyway, yer could tell Jeff yerself that yer’ve got a boyfriend and that would put a stop to him asking Larry all the time.’
‘No, Cynthia,’ Laura said, noting the petulant droop of her friend’s lips. She was like a baby who couldn’t get her own way. ‘It’s you that’s mean, not me. Ye’re trying to talk me into something yer know I don’t want to do. I told yer how rough and bad-tempered Jeff was, and how he scared the life out of me, but ye’re still trying to talk me into seeing him again. That’s being selfish, that is, and not something yer’d do if yer were a real friend. So, if yer think more of Larry than yer do of me, then we’d better go our separate ways.’ Laura wrapped her coat more tightly around her slim body to keep out the cold wind that was blowing in from the Mersey. ‘Yer don’t want to see The Prisoner of Zenda, so I’ll go on me own and you can please yerself.’ With that she set off down the street, the click of her high heels on the pavement breaking the silence.
‘It’s no skin off my nose,’ Cynthia shouted after her. ‘I don’t need you to hold me hand, I’ll be better off without yer.’ But it was all bravado. She’d thought she could talk Laura around if she kept on at her, but it hadn’t worked. And now she’d lost the only girlfriend she’d ever had. It was a stupid thing to fall out over, too! All because of Jeff, whom she didn’t much like herself, either! He certainly wasn’t worth losing a friend over.
