by Joan Jonker
‘Ye know who my lot are, girl, so that’s easy. And yer’d better put our Lily’s feller down, ’cos I don’t suppose we can leave him out.’
‘Yer can hardly do that, seeing Lily’s a bridesmaid! So altogether it’s six for the McDonough family.’
‘Don’t forget Archie, Mrs B.,’ Steve said. ‘He invited himself, but I know Tommy would like him to have an official invitation.’
‘He’ll go down with our lot.’ Molly was busy writing. ‘With Maureen, that makes eight for the Bennetts, unless I hear otherwise. Oh, and me ma, da and Rosie, that’s eleven.’
‘There’s another one for us, Mam,’ Doreen said. ‘I’d like Maureen’s boyfriend, Sam, to come. After all, we’ve been friends for years.’
‘OK, he’s down. Now, there’s you and Miss Clegg, Phil, so that’s you done.’
‘I was going to ask if I could invite one of me workmates, and his wife. I’ve been with him since the day I started as an apprentice, and he taught me everything I know. He’s been like a father to me.’
Molly lifted her head to gaze with tenderness at the boy who had no family to call his own. He had Victoria, whom he idolised, and he’d been welcomed into the bosom of her family, the McDonoughs’ and the Corkhills’. They all loved and respected him. But with the best will in the world, they weren’t the same as having his own flesh and blood. ‘Of course yer can, sunshine. It’s your wedding day, isn’t it?’ Molly licked the end of her pencil. ‘What’s their names so I can write them down and make it official?’
‘Jimmy Cookson, and his wife’s name is Myrna. Yer’ll like them, Mrs B., they’re really nice people.’
‘They better had be, lad!’ Nellie’s chins were aquiver as she shook her head. ‘This is going to be a posh do, we don’t want no riff-raff coming.’
Molly chuckled. ‘Why didn’t yer say that before I put your name down? I’m going to have to start me list all over again now.’
Nellie’s eyes shot wide open, then slowly narrowed to slits. She couldn’t let her mate get away with a crack like that! After all, reputations were at stake here. So squaring her shoulders, and thrusting her bosom forward, she feigned a look of what she thought was indignation. ‘Well, the bloody cheek of you!’ She raised a hand to bang on the table to emphasise how strongly she felt, and too late realised the hand crashing down was her sore one. Alas, it was too late to stop it and she yelped in pain. ‘Damn, blast and bugger it!’ Cradling her bandaged hand, and rocking back and forth, she glared at Molly. ‘This is all your fault, Molly Bennett! If me hand wasn’t so sore I’d clock yer one.’
‘Seeing as how I haven’t moved me backside an inch off the chair, how d’yer make out it’s my fault? I never touched yer flaming hand!’
‘Yer didn’t have to move yer backside, did yer? It was that ruddy tongue of yours what did it. Wait until I tell my George yer said we were riff-raff! I’ve a good mind not to let me lovely son marry your daughter after all. I’ve said all along he was too good for this family.’
Molly noticed Nellie was no longer cradling her hand, and it was lying, forgotten and unloved, on her lap. That pain didn’t last long, she thought. ‘Ah, yer poor thing! Give me yer hand and let me kiss it better.’
‘Yer can kiss my ruddy backside, Molly Bennett, that’s what yer can do!’
‘I won’t if yer don’t mind, sunshine.’ Molly kept her face straight. ‘Yer see, I don’t think I could stomach it, not so soon after me dinner. But I don’t want yer to think I don’t appreciate the offer, ’cos it’s a generous one.’
Nellie spluttered. ‘Don’t think yer can soft-soap me that easy, girl, ’cos you calling me riff-raff has cut me to the quick. It’ll take more than a Sayers cream slice to get yer back in me good books.’
‘I’m sorry to disappoint yer, sunshine, because me one ambition in life is to be in your good books. But, yer see, I don’t happen to have a cream slice in the house.’
‘I didn’t expect yer would have, girl, I’m not that daft. But we’ll be passing Sayers tomorrow when we’re out shopping, and I’ll let yer mug me to one. I’m not one to bear grudges, I’m too soft-hearted for that.’
Steve snapped his fingers to draw her attention. Knowing what his mam was like for talking, he knew she would talk about everything under the sun except the weddings. They’d be lucky to get the guest list sorted out, never mind all the other details that had to be settled. ‘Mam, in case yer’ve forgotten, we’re all sat around the table here to make arrangements for two weddings. And I think yer’ll agree they’re far more important than your liking for cream slices.’
Nellie’s face was a picture of innocence as she spread out her hands. ‘Of course they are, son. And I’d be the last one in the world to say any different. So me and Molly will sit as quiet as mice, we won’t interrupt yer no more. Just you go ahead and we’ll sit and listen.’
‘How the hell can I just sit and listen when I’m supposed to be doing a list of guests?’ Molly shook her head. ‘I need some sort of number by tomorrow, so I can start making enquiries about a hall. It won’t matter if the number is not exact, we can always add a couple if necessary, but I need some idea.’
‘Calm down, there’s a good girl.’ Nellie patted her hand. ‘If yer keep this up yer’ll be worrying yerself into an early grave. And I know yer’d kill yerself if yer died before the wedding, ’cos it stands to sense yer wouldn’t want to miss that. Not after yer taking all this time to make the guest list out.’
Molly leaned back in her chair and chewed on the end of the pencil. ‘Seeing as yer’ve got me dead and buried, perhaps you’d like to take the list over in case I conk out before I’ve got all the names down?’
‘No, girl, you carry on while ye’re able. Get as much out of life as yer can, that’s what I say.’ For once Nellie’s chins were all in harmonious agreement. ‘Start writing like the clappers and yer’ll have it done in no time. There’s Ruthie’s friend Bella and her parents, Maisie and Alec from the corner shop and seven from the Corkhill family.’
Tapping the pencil on her teeth, Molly let her eyes travel around the table at the grinning faces. ‘Do any of yer ever get the feeling that yer life is all mapped out for yer? That although yer think ye’re in control, some mysterious hand is working yer like a puppet?’
‘Sod that mysterious hand malarky, Molly Bennett, and try using yer own,’ Nellie said. ‘Get writing and put down the names I’ve just given yer.’ She waited until Molly’s head was bent over the paper, then caught her son’s eye. Her lips doing the most comical contortions, she mouthed, ‘How many is that?’
Steve had no idea but made a guess and mouthed back, ‘Thirty-four’.
Nellie put a hand to her mouth and coughed in a refined sort of way. ‘I think yer’ll find that comes to thirty-four.’
Molly grinned. Her mate was absolutely hopeless at adding up. Three numbers were her limit, so there was no way she could have added all these together without using her fingers and toes. No, it was purely a guess, a shot in the dark. ‘Is that what you get it to, sunshine?’
‘Yes, that’s what I get it to.’ Nellie raised her brows for her haughty expression. ‘Why, what do you get it to?’
‘I don’t know, I haven’t added it up yet. And neither have you! Yer’ve just plucked that number out of thin air.’
‘I have not! I bet yer a tanner that I’m right.’ When Molly looked undecided, Nellie pressed her point. ‘Go on, clever clogs! Put yer money where yer mouth is.’
‘No chance!’ Molly threw the pencil down and folded her arms. ‘I wouldn’t trust yer as far as I could throw yer. If you’ve got that number right, then someone has helped yer.’
‘Yeah, I hold me hand up, girl, I have had help.’ The chair creaking was the first indication of the laughter to come. ‘Yer know this mysterious hand of yours, what works yer like a puppet? Well, I’ve got a mystery voice that whispers in me ear. And it was the voice that told me how many guests’ names yer’ve got down. And it told me
to have a bet with yer and to put me shirt on it ’cos it was a sure thing.’ The creaking became more urgent as Nellie’s body shook. ‘I told the silly bugger I didn’t wear a shirt, so it said to bet my blue fleecy-lined bloomers against your pink ones.’
Everyone around the table was doubled up, and even though Molly was laughing as loud as anyone, the back of her mind was registering the urgent creaking of the chair. She got to her feet and pulled on her mate’s arm. ‘Come on, sunshine, before the chair falls to pieces. Yer can get back on it when yer’ve stopped laughing.’
Nellie laid her arms flat on the table and rested her head on them. ‘I’m nearly finished, girl, just give me a minute. Yer know what a vivid imagination I’ve got, well it’s working overtime right now and I might as well enjoy meself.’ Another loud burst of laughter followed and it was a while before she could get her words out. ‘Those bloomers of yours wouldn’t go near me, girl, I know that. They’d take one look at me and fall apart at the seams. But I’d like to win them just to see the look on the face of that nosy cow next door when she sees them blowing in the breeze on me washing line.’
It was five minutes before order was restored and the meeting got back on track. ‘Right,’ Molly said, ‘I’ll reckon on forty guests in all, ’cos there’s bound to be a few more people to invite. Jack’s brother went to live in Wales years ago and we haven’t seen hide nor hair of him since, but Jack might want to try and get in touch.’
‘I haven’t got no family, girl,’ Nellie interjected, ‘only some longlost cousins who I wouldn’t know if I fell over them. But George’s sister Ethel only lives in Seaforth, and he’ll probably think it right and proper to invite her and her husband.’
‘I’ll definitely cater for forty, then – that should do it.’ Molly put the pencil down and stretched her arms over her head. ‘Thank goodness that’s sorted out. What’s next on the agenda?’
Jill put her hand up. ‘Me and Doreen have been wondering what happens at a double wedding, mam. I mean, the father usually gives the bride away, but how would me dad manage with two of us? The aisle in the church wouldn’t be wide enough for three to walk down, not without a crush, anyway.’
Molly frowned. ‘I hadn’t thought of that, sunshine. And I know yer dad hasn’t or he would have mentioned it. He’ll want to give both of yer away, that’s only natural. And he’d be the proudest man in Liverpool with a lovely daughter on each arm. But I can see it might cause problems, so we’ll have to sit and talk to him tonight and see what he says.’
‘I was going to ask Father Kelly,’ Doreen said, ‘but Phil said it wasn’t the priest’s job to advise on who does what. So the sooner we get it sorted out the better. Then Phil and Steve can say who they want as their best man.’
Nellie patted her friend’s arm. ‘There’s more to getting married than meets the eye, isn’t there, girl? Still, it’ll all come out right, you’ll see.’
‘The hardest thing is trying not to leave anyone out. I feel lousy not asking Rosie to be a bridesmaid, but it’s not possible. I mean, yer’ve got to draw the line somewhere.’
‘I’ve had a word with Rosie about it, Mam, ’cos I felt mean as well,’ Jill said. ‘But she understands and doesn’t mind in the least.’ Her pretty face broke into a smile. ‘She said, “As long as I’m the bride at me own wedding, then, sure, won’t I be the happiest girl in the whole wide world?”.’
Three streets away, Rosie and Tommy were sitting side by side. As soon as Bridie and Bob had climbed the stairs to bed, the sweethearts had retired to the comfort of the couch and each other’s arms. ‘They’re all in our house tonight, making plans for the big day.’ Tommy kissed the tip of her nose. ‘Me mam’s going to have her hands full, with two daughters getting married the same day. It’ll take some organising, that.’
‘Sure, hasn’t yer mother got a good head on her shoulders? There’ll be no slip-ups on that day, I’ll be bound. And while there’s a lot of worry, sure isn’t there a lot of happiness as well? She’s gaining two sons, and doesn’t she love the bones of them?’
‘Don’t yer wish we were getting married?’ Tommy asked. ‘I can feel meself becoming jealous.’
‘Of course I wish we were getting married, and I’d be telling a lie if I said different. I love yer very much, Tommy Bennett, and I can’t wait to become yer wife. But as me mammy would say, patience is a virtue and brings its own reward. Our day will come, me darlin’, in a year’s time, please God.’
‘I’m reckoning on eighteen months,’ Tommy said quietly. ‘That’s how long it will take to save up enough money.’
‘Not at all, me darlin’! Would yer not be forgetting that we’ll be living here with yer nan and grandad, and won’t be needing to buy furniture. Sure, it’s more than enough we’ll have in twelve months’ time.’
Tommy pulled one of her curls and smiled when it sprang back. ‘Not for the wedding present I want to give yer.’
‘I’ll not be wanting a wedding present off yer, Tommy. Sure, aren’t you the only present I’ll ever need in me life?’
‘I was sixteen when yer gave me my first kiss outside this front door. And I was seventeen when I knew yer were the girl I was going to marry. It was then I made meself a promise to give yer this wedding present. And I’ve never wavered from that promise.’
Rosie’s deep blue eyes gazed into his. ‘And what is this present yer’ve kept a secret all these years?’
‘That on the day we get married, your mam and dad will be here to see their beautiful daughter wed to a man who adores her.’
The blue eyes filled with tears. She’d been fifteen when she’d left her home in Ireland to find work in Liverpool. Her family couldn’t afford to keep her because times were hard and money very short. There were no jobs for young girls in the beautiful countryside of County Wicklow, and a distant cousin of Bridie’s had written to ask if the Jacksons would take her in. She’d been lost and afraid at first, not being used to a big city. But she’d soon grown to love her Auntie Bridget and Uncle Bob, and when their grandson, Tommy, fell in love with her, her happiness was complete. But she’d never forgotten her family, and every four weeks she sent them a postal order for five shillings. ‘Oh me darlin’, there’s nothing I’d like better in the whole world. I haven’t seen me family for five years and I still miss them. But it’s impossible, they couldn’t afford to come all the way from Ireland.’
‘We’ll make it possible, Rosie, I promise yer. We’ll put a little bit extra aside each week, in a separate money box, and when the time comes we’ll have enough to pay their fares.’ Tommy wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb. ‘I want to meet the two people who brought someone as beautiful as you into the world and into my life. And I think …’
But his words petered out when his lips were claimed for kisses.
Chapter Twelve
‘I can’t go for a pint every night, yer know, love,’ Jack said as he hung his coat up. ‘It’s not that I don’t enjoy it, mind, but we need to be saving our money.’
‘There’ll be no need for yer to go again, we sorted most of the things out tonight.’ Molly uncurled her legs and slipped them over the end of the couch. Nellie had gone home, Ruthie was in bed and Doreen had gone across to Miss Clegg’s with Phil. So with only Jill and Steve in, she had taken the opportunity of putting her feet up for a while. ‘We’ve made a list of guests and so far there’s thirty-one. But there’s bound to be people we’ve forgotten, so I’ll reckon on catering for forty to be on the safe side.’ She slipped her feet into her shoes and pulled a face when a corn on her little toe complained at the discomfort. ‘What about your Bill and his wife? D’yer think we should invite them?’
‘Molly, we haven’t heard a word from him for over twelve years. I wouldn’t even know how to contact him.’
‘Yer could try writing to the last address yer had for him. But it’s up to you, sunshine, you please yourself. It’s a long way to come from Wales, and we don’t know their circumstances, but it wou
ldn’t hurt to drop him a line. He can always say no if he doesn’t want to come, but then again he might be glad to see yer again after all this time. There’s only the two of yer left of your family, so it would be nice to keep in touch if only for old times’ sake.’
‘I’ll write the letter for yer, Dad, if yer like,’ Jill offered. ‘I don’t remember him at all, but if he’s me uncle then I’d like to meet him.’
‘All right, sweetheart, I’ll try and root his last letter out.’ The more Jack thought about it, the more the idea of seeing his brother again appealed to him. Bill was two years older than him, and they’d always got on well together as kids. In fact, it had been an advantage having an older brother, someone who the street bullies shied away from. ‘Yeah, I’ve got an idea where his last letter might be, I’ll see to it as soon as I come in from work tomorrow night.’
‘Nellie said George will probably want to invite his sister Ethel and her husband. They only see each other every Preston Guild, so if they come, and your Bill and his wife, it’ll be a real nice get-together.’
Jack lit a Woodbine before stretching out in his favourite chair. ‘And what other arrangements did yer sort out at this meeting of great minds?’
Steve’s dimples deepened when he chuckled. ‘Me mam insisted that this wedding is going to be a posh do and there’s no riff-raff allowed. We also found she has a great liking for cream slices and that she wants to borrow your wife’s pink fleecy bloomers.’
Jack grinned. ‘What’s this mother of yours been up to now?’
‘Don’t you tell him, Steve,’ Molly said. ‘Don’t you dare say another word. Every night in bed I tell my feller about yer mam’s shenanigans. It’s become a ritual we both look forward to. We laugh ourselves silly, then go to sleep with a smile on our faces. Now yer wouldn’t want to spoil it for us, would yer, sunshine?’
