He might no longer be able to control those great idle lumps that were his sons, but surely he could manage one slip of a girl?
Following that afternoon at the Ritz life suddenly became exciting. Jess couldn’t believe she’d been so daring as to actually go on stage. Those few magical moments had changed her, and she knew that the sound of the applause would live with her for ever.
What was even more exciting, Steve took to waiting for her outside of Simmons’s Tea Room whenever she was on late shift. He’d take her out to supper before dashing off to some dance hall or other where he was due to play that evening. Often Jess went along with him and in the interval when some other band took the stage, he would hold her close in his arms and it was even better than all her dreams. He would sing the words softly in her ear, ‘I dream of you’ and her heart would melt with love for him.
Sometimes, because of the distance, or Jess’s commitments with the Salvation Army, it wasn’t possible for her to go with him and they’d linger in the bus shelter kissing and cuddling, promising to meet the next day or the one after that. But the two of them were rarely apart. Every moment they could, they spent together. Even though Jess guessed that she was falling in love with him, she strove to remain sensible and practical, as she always had been. This wasn’t really the time for dreams or romance. Not with a war on.
Jess was sorely troubled that something odd was going on. Lizzie had suddenly taken to going out during the day, not coming back till quite late in the afternoon. Sometimes she wouldn’t be there when Jess got home from the shop. Cora was naturally delighted to be free of her sister-in-law for a few hours. But Jess was desperate to investigate exactly where it was she went, what Lizzie got up to, and if she was drinking again. She considered following her, and might have done so if only she’d had more time.
Working as she did for long hours in the tea rooms and bakery, her days were pretty well filled already, and whatever evenings she wasn’t helping out at the Salvation Army mobile canteen, she simply couldn’t resist spending with Steve. Jess rarely even saw Leah these days, who she assumed was now walking out with Tommy. Nor did she greatly mind, having neither the time nor the curiosity to enquire too deeply into her friend’s affairs, being too engrossed with her own.
Jess had finally admitted to Steve the full story of why she’d wanted the trumpet and he’d been furious on her behalf, wanting to go and bop Uncle Bernie on the nose there and then. Fortunately she was able to persuade him of the fruitlessness of such an action.
‘I want to protect you, and make you happy,’ Steve protested.
‘Oh, you do, you do. You make me so happy, you wouldn’t believe how much.’ For the first time in her life, Jess felt truly cherished. No doubt about it. She was in love.
‘Hello, Harry,’ Leah said, trying to sound casual. She’d been coming out of the shop door and there he was, large as life and twice as handsome as she remembered. It made her knees go all wobbly just to look at him. ‘Thought you’d forgotten all about me.’
‘Now how could I forget a smashing bird like you? Best looking chick around. I did mean to get in touch before now but I’ve been a bit tied up with business lately. Feel like coming with me to the flicks tonight?’
‘Oh yes,’ Leah breathed. He’d asked her out. At last! She felt made up. That was one in the eye for Mother and all her clever little machinations. Leah knew she was treading on dangerous ground, but she really didn’t care. Harry Delaney was much more fun than flabby Ambrose would ever be.
They went to see Jane Russell in Outlaw, and Leah felt almost jealous as Harry was clearly slavering over the Hollywood actress, his eyes nearly popping out of his head in the stable scene when she was showing off her considerable assets in that low-cut blouse.
Perhaps that was the reason why she let him go a bit further than she’d intended, allowing him to fondle her between her legs which Leah was ashamed to find got her all excited, and even more curious about what might happen next. Maybe she would let him tonight, or was it still too soon? Once she’d given in, there was no going back and, deep down, Leah still had her doubts.
Harry was filled with optimism that he’d be quids in tonight and on their way home, took her down a suitably dark alley and got going on the kissing and cuddling. He found this part boring but girls expected it, and he was willing to oblige. It paid to humour them a bit, to grease the wheels as it were, and she was certainly responsive; gave every impression of wanting him to go all the way. But then the minute he slid his hand inside her knickers she shoved him off as if he were a bit of muck she needed to shake off her shoe. He hated her for that and had to bite back his irritation.
‘No, Harry. I’ve told you. I’m not that sort of girl.’
He longed to mock her silly, complaining voice, but managed to remain calm and resolutely single-minded. ‘But you’d like to be, eh chuck? Don’t pretend you aren’t interested. Come on, what’re you afraid of?’ And then light dawned. ‘Blooming heck, you’re still a virgin. Is that it?’
Leah could feel her cheeks start to burn and knew she was blushing. Thankful now for the black-out and the privacy of the alley. ‘So what if I am? Not a crime, is it?’
‘It’s bloody marvellous! Sorry sweetheart, shouldn’t swear in front of a lady. It’s just that a chap like me doesn’t come across the likes of you very often, not in a month of Sundays.’
‘I don’t suppose you do. Though I’m sure you’ve any number of girls panting for you to have your wicked way with them.’
Harry saw that he’d made a bad mistake. She was backing off, and he was that hard and eager for the off, the pain was excruciating. ‘I should be so lucky. Nay, it’s the war. Everyone wants their oats before it’s too late.’
But he wasn’t going to get any oats, not tonight he wasn’t, leastways not from this silly little bitch. She was busy tidying her hair, tucking her mouth in all prim and proper and insisting they must dash to the bus stop this very minute or she’d be in trouble when she got home.
‘Mother will go spare. She gets very anxious if I’m late in.’
Mother will go spare. Not Mam – Mother. Full of herself, she was, using fancy words all the time. ‘How about next week then? Or have I put you off with being so pushy?’
Leah almost cried with relief. She’d been afraid that she had indeed put him off, by being prissy. She really must stop being so nervous. What was there to be afraid of anyway? Everyone was entitled to a bit of fun. There was a war on, after all. And hadn’t she craved some excitement in her life? If anyone could provide that, Harry Delaney could. ‘That’d be lovely,’ she said, casting him a speculative, sidelong glance to make sure he was still genuinely interested and not just asking her out of pity. She really fancied him like crazy, so what was holding her back? Probably the fact that he was Jess’s cousin, and her friend would not approve as the two didn’t get on for some reason.
Harry rewarded her with his most charming smile in a valiant attempt to disguise his irritation. Daft cow! She obviously liked playing hard to get. She’d better be worth the wait, that’s all, or he wouldn’t be best pleased. ‘Right, you’re on then. Same time, same place.’
‘I could meet you inside, if you like. I don’t mind paying for myself.’
He puffed out his chest as if she’d greatly offended him. ‘When Harry Delaney takes his girl out, he expects to pay the full whack. Got to keep you sweet, haven’t I? And you are my girl, aren’t you Leah?’ Harry wheedled, dropping his voice to a soft, husky note. He often played this card because, generally speaking, it worked like a charm every time. Tonight proved to be no exception.
Leah had heard only those two simple words. My girl! She could hardly believe he’d said them, or that he meant it, and couldn’t resist making sure. ‘Is that what I am, Harry? Your girl?’
‘Course you are, sweetheart. Would I say it if it weren’t true? At least you can be, if you play your cards right. It’s rather up to you, isn’t it? Hey up, here’s your b
us. You’ll be all right now. I can walk from here, after I’ve seen to a bit of business with a mate of mine.’ God, he thought, I’m starting to sound like my old man.
Leah gave him a kiss on the cheek before quite happily climbing on to the bus, waving a cheery good night as it trundled away. The moment it turned the corner, he went straight into the nearest pub and ordered himself a pint of bitter. What a waste of a night that had been, not to mention the one and six each for the flicks. Flaming scandal! There was Jane Russell getting him all fired up and nowhere to run his engine. What a let down.
Virgins, in Harry’s world, were as rare as hen’s teeth. Maybe she never would cut the mustard, though she didn’t seem the frigid sort. If she didn’t make him so blasted randy, he’d not bother with her again.
There was the added attraction that everyone knew old Cliff Simmons was bow-legged with brass. When Harry had broken into the shop that day – walked in more like, since the back door had been unlocked - he’d almost been able to smell money. There surely must be a safe in there some place, where the old chap stashed his takings. If so, Harry meant to find it. At the very least he could happen squeeze a few more interesting details out of Simmons’s daughter than his dad had out of Jess. Like when the wages were made up for a start, and if there were any more interesting pieces of jewellery than the odd bits of trinkets he’d already picked up off that dressing table. A cameo brooch and a blue necklace that had turned out to be glass with no value at all.
As he staggered home later than night, he bumped into Queenie Shaw, who used to be in his class at Atherton Street school and was very nearly as inebriated as himself. Harry took her up a back alley off Tonman Street and found her much more amenable. He’d barely unbuttoned his flies before she was ready for him. If only all girls could be so accommodating.
Cora was avid for details about Jess’s young man and today, as on so many occasions recently, she was trying to persuade her to bring him home so that she could meet him. ‘Fetch him, why don’t you? Let’s have a shufty at him.’
Lizzie lazily lifted her head to light a fresh cigarette from the one she’d smoked down to the butt before callously remarking, ‘Don’t imagine it’ll last. Who’d want to marry Saint Jessica? Stifle any man’s lust.’
The remark stung and Jess could think of no satisfactory reply. But perhaps Lizzie was right in a way. It was certainly true that she’d always had a tendency to be somewhat naïve and moral, despite her colourful upbringing, or perhaps because of it. With a mother like Lizzie you’d be bound to go one way or the other, and being involved with the Salvation Army had made her even more so. At every meeting in the citadel they were urged to resist the temptations of sin and Jess agreed with the sentiment. If you didn’t stick to the stony path of righteousness, you landed up in Strangeways like her mam.
‘I have boundaries over which I’m not prepared to cross. What’s so wrong with that? Better than having no boundaries at all.’
Lizzie snorted her derision. ‘If that’s a dig at me, it won’t wash. You always think you’re so much better than everyone else, stuck up little madam.’
‘I’m not stuck up. I just have morals, which you seem to have lost sight of.’
‘Ooh, hark at her,’ Lizzie mocked. ‘Has an answer for everything. Spoil anyone’s fun, she would.’ She was annoyed that Jess was stubbornly arguing, but then the lass was forever telling her what to do these days, keenly watching her every move. Fortunately, Lizzie had managed to sneak a few swift shots of whisky this morning, though that had been before breakfast and now she was desperate for another. She’d got into the habit of taking a nip or two whenever Jess wasn’t looking, or when she was out for the evening with her chap. Bernie kept her well supplied with the stuff. He was a treasure, was Bernie.
‘Nay Lizzie, that’s no way to talk to your own daughter. The lass hasn’t got a mean bone in her body.’ Cora was growing weary of fending off her sister-in-law’s insults, once again attempting to intervene between mother and daughter as she’d frequently been called upon to do over these last weeks. ‘Where’s the harm in a bit of hand holding, or a kiss and cuddle? Time enough for that other business later.’
‘Where’s the harm? Hoity-toity madam. So lah-di-dah and full of herself! Always looking down her nose at other folk. Go on, fetch him home, why don’t you? Let’s have a gander at this fella of yours. See if he’s got one head or two. Or are you ashamed of him?’ Lizzie hiccupped loudly and swayed back into her seat.
‘Of course I’m not ashamed. Have you been drinking again, Mam? Is that why you’re in such a foul mood?’ The prospect of allowing Steve to meet her family made Jess feel stick to her stomach. What would he think of them? Would his feelings for her change, once he’d seen her as part of such a nefarious crew?
Lizzie pushed the half bottle of whisky further under the cushion. ‘What’s it to you if I have? None o’ your business. I’m over twenty-one and can do as I please. So, are you going to fetch him to meet your mam, or is there something wrong with him? Is that it?’
‘Don’t talk daft.’ And as Lizzie reached for yet another cigarette, Jess snatched away the cushion and whipped out the whisky bottle in a flourish of exasperation. Ignoring her mother’s pitiful wail, she poured the contents down the sink.
Jess brought Steve, with some trepidation, to tea the following Sunday afternoon. Lizzie said, ‘By heck, no wonder she’s been keeping you to herself. I wouldn’t mind if your warmed my bed.’
Steve laughed, saying something about understanding now where Jess got her beauty from but Jess blushed scarlet to the roots of her hair. Trust her mother to make such a crude remark.
Bernie walked in at precisely that moment and stood stock still in the doorway, startled to find a stranger on his territory. Being a man who guarded his privacy, he didn’t care for unexpected callers. ‘Who’s this then?’
Introductions were made with Bernie scowling and complaining he’d had to spend half his Sunday down at the docks trying to get a shipment of merchandise released.
‘You have my sympathy, Mr Delaney. Red tape is tying us all in knots these days, issuing endless lists of instructions which I’m sure wastes far more paper than we actually salvage.’
‘You’ve put your finger right on the nail there, lad.’ This seemed to thaw the ice somewhat and in no time at all the two men had launched into a mutual condemnation of the evils of bureaucracy, seeming to hit it off surprisingly well. Jess put this miracle down to Steve’s supreme tact and good manners and took the opportunity to whisper a few reminders to Lizzie on how she must behave.
‘I hope you haven’t got another bottle tucked away some place.’
‘As if I would?’
‘Well see you remember what I said.’ Jess had earlier issued strict instructions to Lizzie not to speak unless she had something kind, or pleasant, to say. Somehow it seemed vitally important that her mother make a good impression. ‘We don’t want none of your caustic comments today Mam, so watch that waspish tongue of yours. And don’t you dare mention Strangeways. We want a quiet family tea, right?’
Lizzie affected innocence, claimed not to understand her daughter’s concerns, even manufactured a few tears to win sympathy. In desperation, Jess simply resorted to bribery. ‘Just keep your trap shut and I’ll bring you a lovely cream cake home from work by way of a thank you tomorrow, right?’
Chapter Fifteen
At the tea, Cora was her usual, warm, caring self, fussing like a mother hen as she brought out a plate of tinned salmon, saved for just such a special occasion. There were a few slices of cucumber to go with it, as well as lettuce and tomato. Steve tucked in with gusto as if he’d never seen such a feast.
‘This is grand, Mrs Delaney. Can’t remember the last time I tasted a nice bit of salmon. Living in digs as I do, I rarely get anything half so good. You must be an excellent manager. It’s not easy to get hold of these days.’
Cora preened herself at the compliment. ‘I’ve made a nice tri
fle to follow. I’ve always been known for my trifles.’
‘I can’t wait.’ Steve even succeeded in eliciting a smile from Sandra by admiring the pretty colour of the ribbon in her hair, and had Sam and Seb giggling in no time as he plaited his handkerchief into the shape of a rabbit. Fortunately, Harry and Bert were out today, though no one was quite sure what they were up to. Jess was simply relieved not to have them around stirring up mischief. Tommy had done what he’d been threatening for so long and accepted his call-up without protest, unlike his cowardly brothers. He’d gone off the previous week to join the Manchester Regiment. Leah, Jess had noticed with interest, had been moping about with a face like a wet fortnight for ages. Tommy’s sudden departure was unlikely to improve her mood.
Conversation at the table was slow and rather stilted at first, concentrated mainly upon the war, on how things had changed in and around Deansgate village and what improvements would be needed when it was finally over. ‘Which it will be soon enough,’ Bernie announced, as if Churchill had assured him personally of that fact.
Cora’s mind was not on the future, but firmly set in the past. She was entertaining her visitor by reminiscing over going to Smithfield market on Shudehill to buy fish and vegetables when she was a girl, and seeing the barrow boys selling cherries.
‘Twopence a pound they were, though I had to be a good girl to get even a farthing’s worth. Before the war, the first one that is, my gran would buy tea from Seymour Mead every Christmas as a treat. Cost a fortune it did. They sold lovely bacon an’ all. Eeh, I did love the shops on Deansgate and Market Street.’
Cora went on to say how she thought it was nothing short of a miracle that Barton Arcade had survived the Blitz when all the rest were tragically little more than a memory, buried beneath a heap of rubble. ‘Not that I have time to do much shopping these days. I leave all that to Bernie, don’t I dear?’
Dancing on Deansgate Page 18
