Dancing on Deansgate

by Freda Lightfoot

  He didn’t see her. She was huddled in the shadows with Adele, Lulu and the other girls. She could slip away and hide in the dressing room until it was time for them to go on again, except that she couldn’t bring herself to move. Jess simply stood there, drinking in the sight of him, as if needing to quench a great thirst. The music changed again, this time to I’ll Be Seeing You, and she could bear it no longer. With memories of the last dance they’d ever had together ringing in her head, Jess turned on her heels and fled.

  Outside, she drew in great gulps of clear night air, desperate to block out the potent images tormenting her brain. Leah came up beside her and rested a hand on her shoulder. ‘He plays that instrument like it’s a part of him. He looked so good standing up there tonight. No wonder you loved him. Why on earth did you ever let him go?’

  Jess shook her head, quite unable to speak. ‘I can’t let you go, Jess.’ That’s what he’d said to her. But he had. She’d given him no choice in the matter.

  ‘Life is so unfair. We came all through the war unscathed, only to ruin our lives with a stupid decision. You to give up Steve, who adored you, and all because of that dreadful attack by Bernie, and me to marry Bernie’s equally dreadful son. What a mess we made of our lives.’ Leah wrapped her arms about her dear friend and the two girls sat on a cold stone wall and wept silent tears together.

  ‘We weren’t to know,’ Jess said at last, quietly sobbing into her handkerchief. ‘I did what I thought was for the best. I honestly believed that I could never be a proper wife to him. And I didn’t want him to take me on out of pity.’

  ‘I know, love. And I was potty about handsome Harry. Couldn’t keep my hands off him. You at least married a gentleman, which is more than can be said for your nasty cousin.’

  ‘Oh Leah, you don’t know the half of it. How was I to know that good, kind Doug would so take against little Johnny? Oh, what am I to do?’

  Leah looked at her sadly, and gently stroked her arm. ‘He’s Steve’s son, isn’t he? Go on, you can say it because, deep down, you know it’s true. Doug certainly does. That’s the real reason why he loathes the poor little mite. I could have told you it was you he wanted, not a replacement son. As could Cora. It was obvious to everyone. But then you weren’t in the mood to listen to common sense? Neither was I. I was so determined to marry Harry Delaney that nobody could talk me out of it, not my mother, not Dad or Robert, who all did their best to make me see what I was letting myself in for. I wouldn’t even listen to you, my very best friend. Is it any wonder that it’s all gone horribly wrong?’

  ‘Do you realise Leah, the Delaney’s have ruined both our lives.’

  ‘It would seem so.’

  There was a small silence while both girls absorbed this fact. ‘Is Harry very mean to you?’

  Leah’s eyes, which she’d only just mopped dry, filled again with a rush of tears. ‘Serves me right if he is.’

  ‘Serves us both right. No, we mustn’t say such a thing. It isn’t our fault at all. We can’t have Harry treat you so badly. We must do something to stop him. I’ve tried, by offering to buy the club off him and settle his debts that way.’

  ‘Huh! He’ll never agree to that. He loves to be in control too much.’

  ‘Then tell me, what else can I do? How can I help?’

  ‘What would you suggest? Giving him a good talking to? Cora’s tried that already.’

  ‘You could leave him.’

  ‘Where could I go, and how could I stop him from bringing me back and punishing me for showing him up? He might not love me but he needs me around, and he adores Susie. He’d never let me take her from him. I’d have to go right away where he couldn’t ever find me, then I’d lose you, and the band, and probably my mind.’ Leah’s tone was bleak and again they clung together, weeping all the more, for they seemed to be powerless.

  ‘Jess? Is that you?’

  The sound of the familiar voice made both girls jump. Leah was the first to react, leaping to her feet and slapping the tears from her cheeks, she mumbled something about needing a drink and had gone before ever Jess thought to stop her.

  He came towards her and she could see him more clearly now. His face looked tired, drawn and sad, and yet his eyes were alight, burning into hers as if he too couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. ‘I never even noticed your band was playing here tonight, till you got up on that stage and played like an angel. If it’s possible, Jess, you’re even better than you were all those years ago. And you’re still playing my trumpet. I felt so proud. Then later, one of the other blokes in the band saw you dash out. Were you running away from me, Jess?’

  She shook her head but could find no words, couldn’t even seem to find her own voice. Just hearing him speak her name, knowing he was right here beside her, that she could reach out and touch him and yet was not permitted to do so, was almost more than she could bear.

  ‘Jess?’

  He took another tentative step towards her, said her name again, barely more than a whisper this time but it was enough. Somehow she was in his arms, he was kissing her and it was the most wonderful moment in her life.

  ‘Oh, I’ve missed you, Jess. God, you’ll never know how much.’

  She didn’t care then about Doug, forgot all about being married to another man. All that mattered was that she was in Steve’s arms, and he was telling her that he still loved her.

  She had only ever loved a man once, this very same man who lay beside her now in this too small bed. They’d made love as if they’d never been apart, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for them to be together even though to Jess it seemed like a miracle. Why had she ever imagined that Bernie’s assault could come between them, or that it would make her less of a woman? She must have been mad. Certainly not thinking clearly. Or else Steve’s great love for her had cured her of the horrors of that night.

  This night of love was wonderful, tender and hesitant, each afraid of making a mistake. At first they’d been content to simply sit and look at each other, quite unable to stop smiling, delighted to be together. Growing bolder, they’d blissfully begun to explore these newly awakened emotions which later had grown ever more powerful and intense. There was no guilt, no shame. Perhaps there ought to have been, but Jess could feel only joy and a beautiful, burgeoning happiness. They belonged together, always had and always would.

  Later still, as they became more relaxed together, their emotions sated, it had simply become fun. Yes, they’d cried together over being so long separated, driven apart by events, but they’d laughed too.

  Steve’s single bed proved to be quite inadequate for its purpose and soon covers and pillow were tossed aside, or slid of their own accord to the floor. Then Steve himself followed them as he fell asleep in her arms and rolled over into nothingness. Waking up with a bump, the young lovers laughed till the tears rolled down their cheeks and, with senses stirred, they couldn’t resist touching and kissing, and making love all over again till finally they fell into a deep sleep of fulfilled contentment, arms and legs entwined about each other, clinging on tight.

  Only Leah knew where to find her, had been quietly informed that she meant to spend the night with Steve at his digs, so it was her old friend who brought Jess the news. Leah woke her from this blissful reunion with a rude hammering on the door. As Steve staggered from the bed to fling it open, she stood framed within it, fighting for breath and quite unable to speak. Not that she needed to. Her face said it all.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Jess felt quite certain that she would never forgive herself, no matter how long she lived. She didn’t deserve to be forgiven, or to have been blessed with such a wonderful child. How could she have been so stupid as to trust Doug with her precious son, when she knew only too well how little he cared about him? How could she so selfishly put her music before her son? And now her baby was in hospital, fighting for his life.

  ‘Will he be all right? Will he live?’ Jess asked of the well meaning nur
se for the hundredth time that night as she came to report on little Johnny’s progress. It was all she could say, the one thought in her head, for if her baby died what reason would she have to go on living? ‘Tell me he’s going to get better.’

  ‘We’re doing our best, Mrs Morgan.’

  ‘But you must remember how delicate he is, how he suffered a dislocated hip as a young baby. Please, take good care of him.’

  ‘We will, dear, don’t fret. But you must keep calm. The doctors can do a great deal these days, with burns. That’s one good thing that has come out of this terrible war.’

  Jess felt sick at the thought of her tiny baby suffering, as all those poor pilots had done. And yet in a strange kind of way, the nurse was saying that their sacrifice would help him, and others like him. She could only pray this was true. She prayed a great deal: for the doctor, for her child, for all the nurses; prayed as she had never prayed before. She bargained with God, sobbed and pleaded, promising to be a much better wife and mother in the future, if only he would save her son.

  And then she heard the full, unexpurgated story of the accident and her distress turned to anger. She could feel the rage boiling up inside her like a furnace, or a volcano about to explode. She heard how Doug had left the boy with a drunken Lizzie and, growing quickly bored with the lack of attention, little Johnny had leaned closer to the old Lancashire range where the stock pan sat simmering on the metal hob before the fire. Cora boiled the goodness from bones in there, and added vegetables from time to time. Perhaps fascinated by the steam as it rose from the boiling water, he’d made a grab for the handle and pulled the pan and its contents all over himself.

  The doctors had told her he was fortunate that he still had the plaster encasing his legs, or it could have been much, much worse. But his poor little feet, his hands and arms, and much of his chest were badly scalded and would need expert treatment, perhaps skin grafts eventually. He was being given expert care, put on plenty of fluids but she’d been told that the shock alone could kill him. All they could do now was wait, and hope for the best.

  ‘How could you have been so unmindful of his well-being to leave him with Lizzie? Don’t you know well enough what a feckless, useless drunkard she is? She can’t even look after herself properly, let alone a child. How could you be so stupid?’

  For once Doug could think of nothing to say. The accident had shocked him to the core, left him shaken and stunned by events. He reminded himself that he’d never wanted the child in the first place. He’d wanted Jess all to himself. What was so wrong with that? She was his wife after all. He stood ashen faced before her and Jess could see by the stubborn way he compressed his mouth into a thin, hard line that he resented the accusation.

  His first words confirmed that fear. ‘If you’d been at home where you belong, there wouldn’t have been a problem.’

  ‘But you only needed to mind him till dinner time. Was that too much to ask? Why couldn’t you at least do that for me?’

  Doug turned his head away and sat down with his arms folded, obstinately determined not to offer any sort of apology which might indicate that he accepted blame.

  Even in the depths of her despair, Jess couldn’t help comparing him with Steve, who had been denied the opportunity to be with her at this terrible time. He’d wanted to come when they’d first been told the news, but she wouldn’t hear of it.

  ‘It wouldn’t be right. Not you and Doug together. No, it would be like putting a match to tinder.’ She’d been distraught, not even certain what she was going to find when she and Leah got to the hospital yet thinking clearly enough to know that having the two men meet was more than she could cope with right then.

  ‘But you’re telling me that little Johnny is my son!’ Somehow, keeping the baby a secret from him no longer seemed important. Mere trivia in the face of their child’s dangerous condition.

  ‘He could be, yes. I’ve denied it until now, but yes, I think he is.’

  ‘Then for God’s sake Jess, we need to talk about this. I need to be there.’

  ‘No, it would only make the situation worse. I’ll ring you at the dance hall, as soon as I have any news. Be patient, my love, please.’

  Jess felt such bitterness, so much resentment towards this woman who had so blighted her life. She could clearly remember the cold dampness of the cellar, the fear of being buried alive. And as if ruining her own young life wasn’t bad enough, Lizzie had now damaged that of her beloved son. Unable to help herself, she railed at her mother and it was as if a lifetime of complaints bubbled to the surface.

  ‘What kind of useless mother are you that you can’t take care of your own grandchild? I expect you were drunk, as usual. Don’t you ever think of anyone or anything besides yourself? So help me, I’ll swing for you one day, I swear it. When have you ever been anything but a useless . . .’

  Leah rushed to soothe her, shushing Jess in a desperate bid to calm her growing hysterics, understandable though they may be in the circumstances. She grasped Jess’s hands to pull her away from Lizzie, fearful of what the two women might do to each other. She’d never seen her friend so distressed, seemingly oblivious to the tears coursing down her face, to anyone else’s feelings but her own, and all because of the terrible fear growing inside that she was about to lose her son. Leah spoke in her calmest, gentlest voice, ‘Sit down Jess love. Relax. This isn’t the moment to be casting blame. Let’s wait till we hear what the doctors have to say, shall we? I’ll fetch you a nice cup of tea.’

  And so they waited. All night long they waited: Jess, Doug, Leah, Cora, and even Sandra, who’d loved her little cousin to bits, she said, choking back tears.

  Lizzie had been the one to call for help from the neighbours, although it had taken Ma Pickles’ son, Josh, to run and phone for an ambulance, Lizzie herself being far too inebriated to cope. Ma Pickles had not accompanied them to the hospital as she’d been left to wait in for Cora, and later had stayed on to care for Sam and Seb. For the first time in her life, Cora gave no thought to her own children, nor did she attempt to solve the problem by providing food for everyone. This was all quite beyond her. She sat in silent contemplation, eyes deep and fathomless, holding on tight to Jess’s hand.

  For hours Lizzie had sat in silence too, eyes wide and blank as if trying to comprehend exactly what was going on, or even where she was. But then for no apparent reason, she began whimpering like an injured kitten, a sound which gradually increased in volume as the night wore on and she grew ever more restless, perhaps more in need of a drink, till finally she launched into a full throated wail.

  ‘Can’t you shut her up?’ Doug asked Jess, clearly embarrassed by his mother-in-law’s wild behaviour. He’d never wanted either the child or this woman, and he’d be damned if he’d put up with any more disruption to his calm and quiet life. ‘What good are we all doing, sitting about here? Get your coat on, Jess. It’s time we went home.’

  ‘You go, if you must. I’m staying here. My child needs me.’

  Lizzie swivelled about and screamed at Jess, lashing out at her with her fingernails. ‘You’re not my child, you’re the devil’s spawn. Get out of my sight! I don’t want you! Bane of my life you are. Go, go, go!’

  A plump little nurse came hurrying along the corridor like a steam train to inform them in furiously hushed tones how, if they didn’t keep Lizzie quiet and make her behave, they would all have to leave. She forcibly pointed out what a huge favour the hospital was doing allowing them to stay at all, all due to the kind heart of the doctor.

  In the end, far from being able to shut her up, Lizzie’s wails grew to fever pitch, and she began wandering down the corridor, frantically knocking and scrabbling at doors, even opening them, as if seeking something or someone, though no one could be sure what or who it was. Each of them attempted to stop her, to coax her back with bribes of tea and biscuits, of wine gums and mint imperials, anything to keep her in her seat. All to no avail. After barely two seconds she would jump to her feet
and be off again, wailing like the proverbial banshee, growing more and more demented. She didn’t seem to understand where she was, or why she had come here in the first place.

  And then she began shrieking, ‘Where’s Bernie? He’s here, I know he is. Where is he?’ Fighting off Jess’s frantic attempt to lead her once more back to her seat.

  ‘Where’ve you put him? You’re keeping him away from me but I’ll find him, see if I don’t. You can’t have him, he’s mine, child or no child. I’m his wife, I’ll have you know.’

  ‘By heck,’ Cora said. ‘She has lost it this time.’

  The nurse obviously agreed and Lizzie was gently rounded up like a stray cat and taken away to some nether region of the hospital where ‘she would get the proper care that she needs’.

  ‘By which they mean knock-out drops of the non-alcoholic variety,’ said Cora, drily. ‘Happen we can all get a bit of peace now.’

  Several other friends called in during the course of that long night, including the girls from the band, and Harriet and Sergeant Ted on their way home from the mission. They all in turn offered what comfort they could, paced the floor with Jess for a while, or simply held her close in a silent hug.

  Jess felt numb, as if she’d slipped from reality into another world, from where she could observe the shell of her former self going through these pointless motions, walking up and down the hospital corridor, sipping tea or leaving it till it went cold and then accepting a fresh one in its place.