Try a Little Tenderness

by Joan Jonker

  Mick stood in the tiny hall and feigned surprise at the sight of his mate. Jenny had gone inside with the plate, so she wasn’t there to hear him tell fibs. ‘Well, well! Fancy seeing you here, mate.’

  ‘I’m supposed to be here, you’re not!’ Although John was none too pleased that things hadn’t gone according to plan, he secretly admitted he was being underhanded as well, so he was as guilty as his friend. Changing the bucket over to the other hand, he asked, ‘How did yer pull it off, yer devious swine?’

  Mick tapped the end of his nose with a finger. ‘That’s for me to know, and you to find out. But I don’t put a foot outside this door until you do. Now, shall we make our presence known, or have yer become attached to that bucket of coal?’

  ‘I feel like throwing it over yer, if yer want to know. I’ve got me best trousers on and they’ll be as black as the hobs of hell.’

  Lizzie, who never had a visitor, had seen so many people in her house today she was dizzy. But oh, wasn’t it lovely to have company? Particularly in the evening, which was the loneliest time of the day. ‘Well, two pretty girls and two handsome lads, aren’t I lucky?’

  ‘I can see the two pretty girls, Miss Marshall,’ Jenny said, nudging Janet and giggling, ‘but where are the handsome lads?’

  John was quick to reply. ‘She doesn’t recognise me, ’cos I’m covered in coaldust.’ He took out a hankie and wiped a cheek. ‘There yer are, Jenny, it’s me.’

  ‘I know it’s you, soft lad, but I want to know where the handsome lads are.’

  ‘I’m saying nothing,’ Mick said. ‘It doesn’t do to blow yer own trumpet.’

  ‘Well, I think ye’re both very handsome,’ said Lizzie, ‘and if I wasn’t seven times older than yer, I’d be fluttering me eyelashes and going all coy.’

  John, still lumbered with the bucket, asked, ‘Shall I put this in the kitchen and bank the fire up before I go, Miss Marshall?’

  ‘You’ve got a date, haven’t yer, John?’ There was a mischievous twinkle in Mick’s eyes. ‘So there’s no need for you to stay, I’ll see to the fire.’

  ‘Over my dead body, mate. When I go, you go.’

  ‘Oh, ye’ve both got dates, have yer?’ Jenny said, before turning to her friend. ‘Yer see, Jan, there’ll be no fellers left by the time we’re fifteen. Just our luck, eh?’

  ‘Neither of us have got dates,’ Mick said, turning the corners of his mouth down in an expression of self-pity. ‘No girls will have us ’cos we’re too ugly.’

  ‘Ah, yer poor things.’ Jenny put a hand to her heart in a show of sympathy. ‘I don’t think ye’re that ugly, do you, Jan?’

  Janet thought they were two very handsome lads but was enjoying the leg-pull. ‘No, not really ugly. I mean, in the dark they could be mistaken for Cary Grant and Gary Cooper.’

  ‘That’s where we’re going wrong, John,’ Mick said. ‘We should stay indoors during the day and only come out at night, like Dracula.’

  Lizzie was taking all this in and thoroughly enjoying herself. She wasn’t missing anything, either. Unless she was very much mistaken, both boys had their eyes on Jenny. It was understandable because she was a lovely girl, in looks and in personality. But both boys couldn’t be winners, so it would be interesting to see what happened in the next year or so.

  ‘Can I put this bucket down, Miss Marshall?’ John asked. ‘Otherwise I’ll have one arm a yard longer than the other.’

  ‘Put it in the kitchen, dear, and then you and Mick sit down and keep us company.’ Lizzie had a hard time keeping her laughter at bay as she watched Mick take advantage of John’s brief absence. Within seconds he had pulled a chair from the table and plonked himself next to Jenny. And John’s face when he returned was a study, as he tried to think of a way to usurp his mate. She could almost hear him thinking, and when his face lit up she knew he’d found a solution.

  ‘I know, let’s have a game of pass the parcel. And the one what gets left with the parcel, has to do a forfeit.’ John thought his idea was brilliant. ‘We’ll have to spread out, though, so let’s put the chairs back around the table.’

  Lizzie gave him ten out of ten for initiative. Nevertheless, the idea didn’t appeal to her. ‘I’m too long in the tooth to be doing forfeits, John.’

  ‘Yer wouldn’t have to, Miss Marshall, you could be referee. Yer just turn yer head away, so yer can’t see, and clap yer hands when yer want us to stop.’

  Mick wasn’t about to be moved from his prime position so easily. ‘Where are yer going to get a parcel from?’

  ‘It doesn’t have to be a proper parcel,’ said John, equally determined. ‘A piece of coal wrapped in paper will do.’

  ‘Oo, er, what kind of forfeit?’ Janet wanted to know. ‘I can’t sing or dance, and I don’t know any jokes.’

  ‘Don’t be so miserable, Jan!’ Jenny thought it was a good way of entertaining Miss Marshall. ‘Yer know nursery rhymes, don’t yer?’

  Janet looked relieved. ‘Is that all I have to do?’

  They were being too longwinded for John’s liking. At this rate Mick would still be sitting pretty next to Jenny when it was time to go. He took hold of Janet’s arm and lifted her from the chair. ‘That’s all yer have to do, Janet, so sit at the table and Jenny will sit next to yer. Me and Mick will sit the other side.’

  For the next two hours, Lizzie Marshall laughed more than she’d ever laughed in her life. The two boys were really comical as they tried to outdo each other. When Mick got caught with the parcel, he chose to sing a song. He had a fine voice, too, but it was drowned out when John decided his whistling would make a fine accompaniment. And when it was John’s turn to pay a forfeit, Mick used the table as a set of drums while Jenny and Janet hummed completely out of tune.

  The girls didn’t get off scot-free, either. While Jenny was reciting Goldilocks and the Three Bears, the boys were doing all the actions in such an exaggerated way everyone was reduced to fits of laughter. But Janet’s contribution, Jack and Jill, had John shaking his head vigorously. ‘You can get the pail of water, Mick. I’m not lifting that ruddy bucket again for no one, never mind running up a hill with it.’

  Mary had her hand on the knocker when she heard shrieks of laughter. ‘In the name of God,’ she muttered, ‘what’s our Jenny thinking about! Lizzie is supposed to be resting, not having a flaming party!’ When there was no response to her knock, she rapped on the window and had a sharp rebuke on her tongue when the door opened.

  ‘Mick Moynihan, what the hell’s going on here? Just wait until I see our Jenny, she should have more sense.’ She brushed the startled boy aside and entered the room, ready to do battle. But when she saw Lizzie wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, and looking happier than she’d ever seen her, Mary had the rug pulled from under her feet. ‘Well, I declare!’

  ‘Oh Mary, yer should have been here, yer don’t know what yer’ve missed.’

  ‘Aren’t you supposed to be sick, Lizzie Marshall, with pains everywhere?’

  ‘Oh, I’ve still got the pains, worse than ever.’ The faded blue eyes twinkled back at Mary. ‘But how can yer lie still when ye’re doubled up with laughter? I’ve got pains now where I didn’t have them before. But isn’t it better to be in agony when ye’re happy, than be in agony when ye’re on yer own and feeling miserable? I’ve had the time of me life tonight, Mary, thanks to these four young people.’ She grinned as she added, ‘Oh, and a bucket of coal.’

  ‘I’ve been keeping me eye on her, Mam,’ Jenny said. ‘I made sure she wasn’t doing anything to hurt herself.’

  ‘I’ve been keeping watch, too!’ Mick said.

  ‘I made her a cup of tea, Mrs Nightingale,’ came from John.

  Mary was beginning to see the funny side of it. She looked at Janet and asked, ‘What about you, Janet, what have you got to say for yerself?’

  Janet was surprised by the question. ‘Er … I enjoyed meself, Mrs Nightingale.’ And she was even more surprised by the burst of laughter. She didn’t thin
k she’d said anything funny, but joined in, anyway.

  Mary looked at the clock. ‘Right, time yer were on yer way so I can get Miss Marshall settled for the night. Jenny, you and Janet tidy up while John sees to the fire.’

  Wanting to curry favour with the woman he hoped would one day be his mother-in-law, Mick asked, ‘Have yer got a job for me, Mrs Nightingale?’

  Before Mary could answer, John said, ‘I have, mate. Yer can get that bucket of ruddy coal. And if yer can manage it, bang it against yer leg a few times so yer kecks are as black as mine.’

  When they were leaving, Jenny was the first to kiss Lizzie. The other three looked uncertain, until Mick bent and kissed her cheek, then they all followed suit. The smile on the old lady’s face couldn’t have been wider. ‘Thank you for giving me a lot of pleasure. And seeing as the girls can’t get boyfriends because they’re too young, and the boys can’t get girlfriends because they’re too ugly, there’ll always be a welcome here if ye’re ever at a loose end.’

  Mick got in just before John. ‘How about tomorrow night?’

  ‘Ay, two nights on the trot is too much, Mick Moynihan.’ Mary herded them towards the front door. ‘She seems to have enjoyed herself, and I thank yer for that, but let’s wait and see how she is tomorrow. It might prove to have been too much for her.’ She was about to close the door, when she remembered. ‘Oh, and make sure Janet gets home safely.’

  ‘We’ll make sure the two girls get home safe and sound, Mrs Nightingale,’ Mick said, ‘so don’t be worrying.’

  John thought his mate was getting all the action, so he added his twopennyworth. ‘Yer can rely on us.’

  Jenny and her friend linked arms and started walking back to Janet’s house, unaware of the jostling for position that was going on behind them. Apart from splitting the girls, there was no way they could both walk beside Jenny. So John said, through gritted teeth, ‘You go first, but we swop over halfway, d’yer hear?’

  ‘Anything yer say, pal.’ Mick’s mind was elsewhere. Could he talk his mam into making another custard tomorrow?

  And as John fell into step beside Janet, he was telling himself to keep his working trousers on tomorrow night when he took the coal over.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Laura gave a quick glance at her friend’s house as she passed it on the next Thursday evening, wondering if Cynthia was getting ready for one of her twice-weekly visits to the Scotland Road area. Laura never thought for one minute that she’d keep it up, but this was the fourth week and her friend was more bitter and determined than ever. Every Tuesday and Thursday she left the house in flat-heeled shoes, wearing her working coat and with a scarf in her pocket to wrap around her head as soon as she neared her destination. She hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Jeff or Larry, but she insisted she’d keep on looking until she spotted them, even if it took her a lifetime.

  Laura hopped on to the platform of the tram and made her way to a seat. She missed going out with her mate on a Tuesday night, but not on Thursday, her night for the dance at Spellow Lane. Her dancing had come on in leaps and bounds, thanks to Gary. He partnered her for every dance, was attentive to her, and really seemed to like her. Yet he’d never asked her for a date, and she couldn’t understand this. Unless it was because Celia insisted on leaving with her at half-ten – this was enough to put any boy off. He probably thought she wasn’t capable of looking after herself. There were times when Laura regretted ever getting involved with her grandad’s wife, then she’d remind herself that if she hadn’t, she’d never have met Gary.

  Her heart beating with anticipation, Laura ran up the flight of stone steps and pushed open the door to the foyer of the dance hall. The first person she saw was Celia, leaning with her back to the wall and deep in conversation with Charlie. But as soon as she saw Laura, she hurried towards her and made a big show of greeting her with a hug and kiss. ‘Hi-ya, kid, it’s good to see yer.’

  This fussing every week was beginning to grate on Laura. There was no need for it; girls didn’t kiss each other, it was soppy. She’d known Cynthia all her life, but never once had they kissed each other. Bringing her friend to mind gave Laura an idea: she’d coax Cynthia to come with her next week, then there would be no reason for Celia to stick to her like glue.

  ‘I’ll just put me coat in the cloakroom.’ Some of the girls folded their coats and put them under chairs, but not Laura. She’d only had this coat two weeks and didn’t want it to get creased or dirty. ‘You go in, I’ll see yer inside.’

  Gary claimed her as soon as she walked in the dance hall. ‘Just in time for a slow fox, babe, come on.’

  Laura scanned the faces around them. ‘Where’s Celia? She can mind me bag.’

  ‘Hang it over yer arm for now, the dance will be ended soon.’ As they were twirling past the stage, Gary took the bag from her and placed it near the pianist. ‘Keep yer eye on that for us, Tommy.’

  When the dance came to an end, he kept hold of her hand and walked her to the edge of the dance floor. ‘There’s no point in sitting down, we may as well stay up for the next dance. It should be a waltz or a rumba.’

  With a handsome boy holding her hand, Laura was flushed with pleasure. He must like me, she thought, or he wouldn’t want to be with me all the time. There’s plenty of unattached girls he could take his pick from, but he’s only interested in me. Perhaps tonight was the night he’d ask her for a date. They laughed and joked their way through three more dances, then Laura called a halt. ‘I’ll have to look for Celia, I haven’t seen her since I came in. She’ll think I’m terrible, not going near her.’

  ‘I wouldn’t worry about that,’ Gary said. ‘Celia is more than capable of looking after herself, believe me.’

  Laura thought there was a funny look in his eyes, but it was soon gone and she put it down to her imagination. ‘Still, I think I should put in an appearance.’

  ‘Suit yerself. I’ll have the next dance with Dorothy then. I’ve been neglecting her since you came on the scene.’

  Laura pulled him back. ‘Oh no, yer won’t have the next dance with Dorothy, whoever she is. I’ll find Celia in the interval. Mind you, I’ve been keeping an eye out for her and haven’t seen sight nor light of her since I came in.’

  ‘She’s probably sitting down somewhere, talking to Charlie.’

  This gave Laura the opportunity of asking something that had been puzzling her for the last four weeks. ‘Is Charlie a very good friend of hers?’

  Gary averted his eyes as he shrugged his shoulders. ‘Charlie’s a friend to everyone, especially if they happen to be female. He’s got an eye for the girls.’

  It was on the tip of Laura’s tongue to ask if that included married women, but she thought better of it. After all, Gary was a friend of Celia and Charlie; he might repeat anything she said. ‘Yeah, I gathered he was fond of women.’

  ‘I think there’s only one more dance before the interval, and she’ll probably come looking for you then.’

  Gary was right. But then he would be, because he knew full well where Celia was. He’d been given his instructions to keep Laura occupied for at least half an hour. They were walking off the dance floor, hand in hand, when Celia came through the door, followed by Charlie who was straightening his tie. She spotted them right away and made directly for them, leaving Charlie to stand just inside the door where all the men congregated during the interval. ‘There’s a couple of empty chairs over there, kid, let’s grab them quick.’

  ‘You go ahead,’ Laura said, ‘I want to get me handbag off the stage.’ On her way back, skirting the people standing around in groups, her eyes lighted on Gary. He stood out in the crowd because of his light-blond hair. Then she saw him bend towards Celia and the expression on the woman’s face halted Laura in her tracks. There was no smile now on the heavily made-up face, and the words pouring from her mouth appeared to be angry ones. I wonder what she’s on about, Laura thought. She’s giving the pay-out about something.

  Laura approa
ched them from the side, hoping to hear something that would give her an inkling about what was going on. But Gary saw her coming and straightened up. ‘Yer didn’t have to worry about yer bag, babe, Tommy would have kept his eye on it.’

  ‘He’d have a job, seeing as the band have left the stage. All me worldly goods are in this bag. I wouldn’t even have the fare home if it got pinched.’

  ‘I wouldn’t see yer without, love, yer know that.’ Celia patted the seat of the empty chair next to her. ‘Come on, park yer carcass.’ Smiling sweetly, she took a cigarette out of the packet on her knee. After lighting it, she asked, ‘Don’t yer smoke, Laura?’

  ‘No, I’m too young,’ Laura said, ‘and anyway, me mam would kill me.’

  ‘Yer mean yer work in the tobacco works, and yer don’t smoke! I thought everyone got an allowance of free ciggies there. What d’yer do with them?’

  ‘I give a packet to me dad and the rest to me mate, Cynthia.’ Laura was lying. She sold her free cigarettes to a woman in work whose husband smoked like a chimney. ‘Me mate’s parents don’t mind, but mine would.’

  ‘Well, yer parents are not here, kid, and what the eye don’t see, the heart don’t grieve.’ Celia held the open packet towards her. ‘I was younger than you when I started smoking, it’s the fashion these days. Go on, be daring.’

  Laura could feel Gary’s eyes on her, but she didn’t look up. If she had, she would have seen the slight shake of his head and acted differently, knowing he was on her side. She didn’t want to smoke, but was afraid of being thought old-fashioned. She hesitated, then reached out to take one of the cigarettes and held it awkwardly between her fingers.

  There was a gloating expression on Celia’s face as she struck a match. But as she was about to hold the flame to the cigarette now dangling between Laura’s lips, Gary bent down and stayed her hand. ‘Don’t breathe in deeply, Laura, or yer’ll feel sick and go dizzy. Just take a little puff, and if yer don’t like it then don’t smoke it.’