by Joan Jonker
‘Don’t do it, Cynthia, yer might get yerself in a load of trouble. They’re bad men, I wouldn’t tangle with them if I were you.’
‘It’s easy for you to talk, it didn’t happen to you. I’m the one who’s in pain, the one who’s going to have to live with the memory of it all me life. But I’ll live with it easier if I have the satisfaction of knowing they’re suffering too.’ She saw the apprehension on Laura’s face and added, ‘Don’t worry, I won’t involve you. I’ll do it all meself and take great satisfaction from it.’
‘Did yer say seven rolls of paper, Stan?’ Mary sat at the table with a pencil and a scrap of paper. ‘Are yer sure that’s enough?’
‘I say seven, and Seamus and Ben say the same. We can’t all be wrong, can we?’
‘I didn’t say yer were wrong, sweetheart, I was only asking to make sure.’ Mary made a note on the paper. ‘And don’t tear yer hair out when I ask if it was sixteen yards of border?’
Stan grinned. ‘I wouldn’t tear me hair out no matter what yer said, love, ’cos I haven’t got much as it is.’ He bent his head so she could see the bald patch at the top. ‘That spot seems to be growing bigger every day. If it keeps up at this rate, I’ll be as bald as a billiard ball by this time next year.’
When Jenny came through from the kitchen she was giggling helplessly. ‘Mam, get an extra roll of paper and do me dad’s head. He’d blend in with the walls, then.’
‘Don’t be so cheeky, young lady.’ Stan’s smile was wide. ‘Anyway, I’ve got a better idea and it’s cheaper. Yer mam can put a tin of black Cherry Blossom shoe polish on her list – that should do the trick. When I’m polishing me shoes I can rub the brush over me bald spot’
‘Yer’ll not be sleeping on my pillowcases then, sunshine. It’ll be the coal-hole for you.’
When the knock came, Jenny made a bee-line for the door. ‘This’ll be me grandad.’
Mary cocked an ear and grinned across at Stan when they heard Jenny’s peal of laughter. ‘Grandad, yer haven’t had a shave and yer whiskers are tickling me.’
Joe’s voice boomed, ‘A tickle is better than a slap any day, queen.’
Mary got to her feet to greet her father with a big hug and a kiss. ‘Yer cheeks are not half cold, Dad, I didn’t think it was that bad out.’
‘I think I’d be right in saying it was parky, what do you say, Stan?’
‘I’d say we’re in for a bad winter, Joe. It’s only the end of October and it’s bitter.’
Mary studied her father’s face. He looked gaunt, but then who wouldn’t if they weren’t getting the right food inside them. ‘Take yer coat off, Dad, and sit by the fire. I’ve put a dinner in the oven to keep warm for yer. We got ours over early, ’cos I’m going to the shops for wallpaper and paint.’
Joe handed his coat to Jenny before standing in front of the fire with his hands spread out near the flickering flames. ‘I’ll come with yer, sweetheart, to give yer a hand. Tins of paint can be very heavy.’
‘No thanks, Dad, I’ve got me two mates coming with me. You stay in the warmth and keep Stan company.’
Laura stood at the top of the stairs listening. She’d hoped to be out before her grandad came, and she would have been if he’d come five minutes later. Not that she didn’t want to see him, she did. He was always nice to her, and all her life she’d had a sneaking feeling that between her and Jenny, she was his favourite. The only reason she didn’t want to see him now was because she was afraid his wife might have mentioned the birthday present or the dance. After all the lies she’d told, she had visions of walking into the room and being asked if she’d liked her present and did she enjoy the dance. She wouldn’t know where to put herself, being found out in all those lies in front of the whole family. Celia had promised not to tell, but deep down, Laura didn’t quite trust the girl her grandad had married. Oh, she was nice and friendly, fussed over Laura as though she was someone special. And she was generous, no doubt about that. It was just a little niggle, something that didn’t quite click with Laura that she couldn’t put her finger on.
‘I’d better go and get it over with,’ she muttered, holding on to the banister for support as she stepped down the narrow, steep stairs. ‘It’s got to come sometime, I can’t keep hiding from me grandad.’
Joe gave her a warm welcome. ‘There yer are, sweetheart, I was wondering where yer’d got to. Come and give yer old grandad a big kiss. I’m sorry I missed yer birthday, but I didn’t call because I thought yer’d be out celebrating. I did think about yer, though, and there’s a slab of chocolate in me pocket for yer.’
Laura was so relieved she rained kisses on his face. ‘Thank you, Grandad, ye’re a little love, that’s what yer are.’
‘Being sixteen is an important milestone in yer life, sweetheart, one yer’ll look back on when yer get old and grey, like yer grandad. So I hope yer did something that yer enjoyed and will look back on with pleasure.’
Laura knew her mam and dad were looking on with interest and contented smiles on their faces. They’d believe anything she said. But it was the look on Jenny’s face that unnerved her. It was almost as if her sister knew everything and was saying, ‘Go on, let’s see yer lie yerself out of that.’
Deliberately snubbing her sister by turning her back on her, Laura did the only thing she could, she brazened it out. She’d got herself in so deep now there was nothing else for it. ‘I got loads of cards and presents, Grandad, they were brilliant. And me and me mate went to our first dance. I would have enjoyed that but Cynthia didn’t feel well and we had to leave early.’
‘Oh, what’s the matter with her?’ Mary didn’t like Cynthia, but she wouldn’t wish the girl any harm. After all, she’d been Laura’s friend since they’d started school and as far as Mary knew, they’d never had a quarrel. ‘Got a cold, has she?’
‘Yeah, she had a sore throat and everything. She stopped off work yesterday and was in bed all day. I’m going down there now to see if she wants to go for a walk for half an hour, then I’ll stay in with her.’
‘Yer’ll stay in all day with her?’ Mary’s voice was high, showing her surprise. My God, this was a turn-up for the books. Her daughter actually putting herself out for someone … it had never been known before. ‘Yer mean yer won’t go out tonight?’
Laura shook her head. ‘I don’t mind for one night. We’ll listen to the wireless or play cards.’ She took her coat down off the hook and shivered as her arms came into contact with the cold lining. ‘I won’t be in for tea, Mam, I’m having a bite at Cynthia’s.’ She gave Joe a big hug. ‘Ta-ra, Grandad, I’ll see yer soon.’ With a wave of her hand she was gone.
‘That’s one out of the way,’ Mary said. ‘Can’t you get yerself an invite somewhere for tea, sunshine, ’cos it’ll be pot luck here.’
Jenny shook her head. ‘It’s too cold to go out just for the sake of it. I’ll be going to Janet’s about seven, but right now I’ll stay in with me dad and Grandad and make a nuisance of meself.’ Then her face lit up. ‘I’ve got an idea! Why don’t I go and get some meat pies for our tea? They’d be quick, easy, and there’d be no washing up after ’cos we could eat them in our hands.’
‘That’s a brilliant idea, sunshine. But first, while I’m getting meself ready, will yer fetch Grandad’s dinner out of the oven before he starves to death? I can hear his tummy rumbling from here.’
Mary was walking between her two neighbours as they neared the wallpaper shop, and instinctively put her arm out to bar Amy from walking into the shop first. ‘Hang on a minute, sunshine, let’s get this straight. Just for once, can we go in a shop without you causing ructions and having the place up?’
Amy spread her arms wide and appealed to Molly. ‘What would yer do with her? Any stranger listening to her would shy clear of me, thinking I was a troublemaker with a mouth on me yer could hear the other side of the Mersey. Me real friends and neighbours wouldn’t think that, like, because they know I’m the quietest, most docile woman in the st
reet. I never raise me voice or finger to anyone.’
‘Oh I know, I know, me darlin’,’ Molly sympathised, ‘it’s always the wrong ones what get the blame. I’ve noticed it meself, so I have, and isn’t it the same the whole world over?’
‘Would you two like to stay out here and pay each other compliments while I go and choose me paper?’
Amy sprang to life and pushed Mary out of the way. ‘Not bleedin’ likely! I see as much of yer wallpaper as you do, so I think I’m entitled to some say in what I have to feast me eyes on every day.’ She huffed with disgust. ‘The bloody cheek of yer, Mary Nightingale, thinking about yerself as usual. I’ve a good mind not to visit yer any more.’
‘Amy, sunshine, yer don’t visit me, yer practically live with me. Sometimes, without thinking, I even set a place for yer at the table.’ Mary gave Molly the nod and they each took an arm of Amy’s and frogmarched her into the shop. ‘Now behave.’
As soon as Amy was in the shop she came over all sweetness and light. ‘Hello, George, how’s the world treating yer?’
The man behind the counter scratched his head. ‘My God, are me eyes deceiving me, or is it really Amy Hanley?’
Amy smiled, straightening her scarf and throwing her shoulders back. ‘In the flesh, George, in the flesh.’
George kept his face straight. ‘I must say ye’re wearing well, Amy. I expected yer face to be all wrinkled and yer hair snow-white, by now.’
Amy considered this carefully. She liked the bit about her wearing well, but wrinkled and snow-white hair? That didn’t sound like a compliment. ‘What the hell are yer on about, wrinkles and snow-white hair? It’s not that bleedin’ long since I saw yer, only since the last time we decorated.’
‘And that’s about four years ago!’ Still there was no smile on the shopkeeper’s face. ‘It’s a wonder the paper hasn’t walked off yer ruddy wall in disgust. Yer’ve certainly had yer money’s worth out of it.’ George was warming up to it now. A set-to with Amy Hanley was as good as a pint of bitter any day. ‘How d’yer expect men like me to make a living while there’s skinflints like you around? Yer’d take the crust out of a baby’s mouth, ye’re that tight.’
Amy’s hackles rose to the occasion. ‘Listen to me, yer moaning, miserable sod. I brought me mate here for all the material to decorate her room, and that’s a whopping big order. But after what yer’ve just said, I’ve a good mind to take her to the shop in Stanley Road and give them the custom.’ Hitching her bosom up and giving little nods of her head, she went on: ‘I was passing there last week, quite by accident, like, and they had a paper in the window that my friend would love. It was sky blue pink with a finny-haddy border.’
Mary gave Molly a nudge. ‘Yer can talk to her until ye’re blue in the face, but she never changes.’
‘Now would yer be wanting her to change, me darlin’?’
‘Would I heckerslike! I know which side me bread’s buttered on, Molly. She saves me a fortune in not having to go to the pictures. I’ve never seen a film yet that can make me laugh as much as my mate can. She saves me money in other ways, too. You just watch her haggle with George. I bet she’ll get a ha’penny knocked off a yard of border, a penny off a roll of paper, and if she’s in good form I’ll get coppers knocked off the tins of paint.’
‘Sure, it’s crafty yer are, Mary Nightingale.’
‘Sure, and don’t I know it, Molly Moynihan?’
Chapter Thirteen
‘Ye’re late,’ Mary said, wagging a finger at Amy. ‘I’ve been standing with me coat on since yer knocked on the wall, and that’s a quarter of an hour ago. I suppose yer’ve been jangling, as usual?’ Her tone changed to one of concern when she noted her friend’s red face and heaving chest. ‘Yer look all flustered, sunshine, is anything the matter?’
‘I’ve been running and me heart’s going fifteen to the dozen.’ Amy, her palms flat on the table, inhaled deeply and blew out the breath through puckered lips. ‘I’d just closed me front door after me, when I heard a cry. And when I looked to see where the noise came from, I saw old Lizzie lying on the ground outside her house. It gave me a fright, I can tell yer, I thought she’d dropped dead. The poor bugger had fallen down the steps and hurt herself. I tried every which way to pick her up, but every time I touched her she cried in pain. Yer’ll have to come with me, girl, and see if we can manage her between us.’
‘Oh, dear God, d’yer think she’s broken anything? If she has, we shouldn’t move her in case we do more harm. Best get an ambulance.’
‘Will yer stop thinking the worst until we know for sure? I’ve got to say, girl, yer can be a right misery guts at times. Yer’ll have her dead and buried before we know it. If she does peg out, it’ll be from being left to lie on the ground, in freezing weather, and catching pneumonia while we’re standing here playing guessing games.’ Her wide hips swaying, Amy made for the door. ‘Get a move on, girl, or yer’ll be too late for the bleedin’ funeral.’
As she stepped down on to the pavement, Mary said, ‘I’ll give Molly a knock, she’s usually good at times like this.’
‘Okay, but make it snappy.’ When Amy looked to where she’d left Lizzie Marshall, who should she see standing over the frail figure, but her nosy neighbour, Annie Baxter. ‘Wouldn’t yer just know it! There’s never a bleedin’ show without Punch!’ Not bothering to lower her voice, she went on as she hurried along, ‘Never misses a trick, the nosy old cow. I bet she’s licking her lips at the thought of knocking on every door in the neighbourhood with the news.’
‘I’m glad ye’re back, queen.’ There was pleading in Lizzie’s faded blue eyes. Annie Baxter was not a favourite of hers and was the last person in the world she’d want to accept help from. ‘Is Mary coming?’
‘Yeah, she’s knocking for Molly Moynihan. Between us we’ll get yer back in the house and make yer comfortable before we see what yer’ve been and gone and done to yerself.’
‘I offered to help her up,’ Annie said, fussing as she tried in vain to get in front of Amy. She wanted a ringside seat so she didn’t miss anything. ‘But she wouldn’t let me.’
Amy’s eyes travelled the length of her neighbour. ‘I see yer haven’t got yer jungle drums with yer today, Annie. Or are yer using smoke signals, like Big Chief Sitting Bull?’
‘Don’t be so bleedin’ funny, Amy Hanley. I’m just as concerned about Lizzie as you are, yer sarcastic mare.’
Lizzie stepped in before war was declared and Amy lost her temper and landed one on her neighbour. ‘It’s very kind of yer to be concerned, Annie, but there’s no need. I’ll be as right as rain when me friends get me inside.’
But Annie Baxter wasn’t going to be dismissed so easily. She had as much right to stand in the street as that fat nosy cow from next door had. And with her thin arms crossed over her thin chest, and her thin lips clamped together, she stood her ground. Even when Mary and Molly came dashing down, she didn’t move an inch, even though she was preventing them from seeing to the old lady. Amy stood it for so long, then decided enough was enough and grabbed her arm. She turned her towards the top of the street, saying, ‘That’s the way to Lily Farmer’s. She’s usually first on yer list so yer may as well stick to yer routine. And if yer want to spice yer story up a bit, yer can say Lizzie was wearing bright red fleecy-lined knickers with a pocket in. She’s not, of course, but yer mate won’t know that, and I won’t snitch.’
If looks could kill, Amy would have been a dead duck. ‘Anyone would think yer owned the bleedin’ street, the way yer carry on. But ye’re only the monkey, not the organ grinder.’
‘Go away, will yer, missus, before I lose me temper. If yer fancy lying beside Lizzie on the bleedin’ ground, just say the word because me hands are itching to thump yer one.’
Annie waited until she was far enough away for safety, before calling, ‘I’ll tell my feller about you, Amy Hanley. He’ll be round to see yer.’
‘I’ll look forward to that, Gabby Annie! Tell him I’m free next Tu
esday night.’
While this exchange was going on, Mary had opened Lizzie’s front door, while Molly scooped up the old lady and cradled her in her arms like a baby. ‘I don’t think yer’ve broken anything, me darlin’, or yer’d be screaming in pain, so yer would. But let’s get yer inside and give yer the onceover.’
Lizzie Marshall was a spinster. She’d lived in the street since her parents died, many years ago. She’d been forced to move out of the three-bedroomed house that she’d been born in, because with just her wage coming in, she couldn’t afford the rent or the upkeep of it. She was small and frail now, with wispy white hair, faded blue eyes and deep wrinkles on her face. Living on a pittance, she managed to keep her house spotlessly clean and there was never a moan out of her.
‘Put those two cushions together for her head,’ Molly said, laying the old lady down as gently as if she was a piece of Dresden china. ‘There yer go, me darlin’, we’ll soon have yer as snug as a bug in a rug.’ She turned to Mary who was standing wringing her hands. ‘Nip up and get a blanket off the bed, she’s shivering with cold.’
‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ Amy said, springing into action. ‘A cup of weak, sweet tea is the best medicine for shock. And yer could do with a few more cobs of coal on the fire.’
‘I’m not cold,’ Lizzie said quickly. She could only afford one bag of coal a fortnight but was too proud to say so. ‘I haven’t got much coal until the coalman comes, so I’m having to eke it out.’
Mary came into the room at that moment, and glanced from Molly to Amy. It was only three days since the coalman was round; there was no way Lizzie could have used it all in a couple of days. Unless, of course, the old lady couldn’t afford to buy any. ‘We’ll all lend yer a bucket of coal, Lizzie, so don’t be worrying. The main thing is to get you warmed through to the marrow before yer get pneumonia.’ She shook the folded blanket she’d brought down with her and tucked it around the shivering woman. ‘I’ll tell yer what, sunshine, yer house is a credit to yer. Yer put the three of us to shame.’
