by Joan Jonker
‘Oh, my God!’ Aggie threw her hands in the air. ‘A girl in every port he tells me, but he’s shy with a woman’s he known for nigh on twenty years.’
Titch grinned. ‘I steer clear of married women, Ma, they’re not on me list. Yer see, I’m not a good runner.’
Aggie pushed herself up from the chair and studied her reflection in the mirror over the mantelpiece. ‘I’ll nip up and have a word with her. If it’s all right, I’ll have to do something to titivate meself up. I can’t go out with me son looking like an old hag.’
‘Ye’re still a fine-looking woman, Ma, and I’d be proud to have yer on me arm even if yer were dressed in a sack. And people would still think yer were me wife, not me mother.’
‘Ye’re full of flattery, Titch McBride. It’s no wonder yer’ve got a list of girlfriends as long as me arm. But I’m a bit too long in the tooth to fall for such blarney.’ Aggie cupped his face and planted a noisy kiss on his lips. ‘While I’m out, be a good lad and wash these few dishes for me.’
Irene was drying her hands on a towel when she opened the door. Her face lit up, as it always did when she set eyes on one of her favourite people. ‘I’ve just finished doing the spuds ready for tonight. Save me worrying meself to death while I’m out. Come on in, sunshine, yer don’t have to wait to be asked.’
Aggie brushed past and walked into the living room which, as usual, was shining like a new pin. ‘I came to see if yer felt like some company on yer shopping trip?’
Irene reached into the kitchen to hang the towel on a nail behind the door. ‘I’d be highly honoured to have yer, Aggie. It would be company for me and yer can help me choose Jack’s trousers. Then if he doesn’t like them, I can put the blame on you.’
‘How d’yer fancy Titch’s company, as well?’
Irene’s eyes widened. ‘Your Titch, coming round the shops? I don’t believe it, he’d be bored out of his mind.’
‘That’s for him to find out, girl,’ Aggie chuckled. ‘He wanted to take me, anyway, to buy me something. Yer know what he’s like when he’s got money, it burns a hole in his pocket. So I thought it would be nice if we all went together.’
‘It’s fine by me, Aggie – as I said, I’d be glad of company. But I can’t for the life of me see Titch enjoying himself. George only ever came to the shops with me once, and he said blow that for a lark, he’d rather do a hard day’s graft.’ Her pretty face smiled at a memory almost forgotten. ‘He was buying me a dress for me birthday, and the first one the assistant in TJ’s brought out, he said, “That’s nice, we’ll take it.” I hated it – it was a dark muddy-brown colour and dead old-fashioned. There was no way I was going to settle for that! And half an hour later, after I’d tried six on, George was nearly spitting feathers. But I was determined. It wasn’t often I got new clothes, and I wasn’t going to settle for something I didn’t like. So I dragged him from TJ’s to Blackler’s. The third one I tried on there was a smasher, I really loved it. My dear husband was so impatient when the woman was wrapping it, I swore it was the last time I’d take him shopping with me. I didn’t have time to tell him that, mind, because once outside the shop he told me straight: “Don’t ever ask me again, love, it’s a mug’s game.”’
‘Shopping is a mug’s game, girl, same as washing and housework. And women are the mugs what have to bleedin’ do it. If it was left to the men the houses would stink and no one would eat. And I’ve said all along, if it was men what had to have babies, the human race would have died out thousands of years ago. Still, we can call our men fit to burn, but we wouldn’t be without them, and that’s a fact.’
Irene glanced at the clock and pulled a face. ‘We’ll have to hurry ’cos I’ve got to be back for the boys. Go and tell Titch he’s very welcome to join us, but on his own head be it. If he starts getting restless and grumbles, I’ll put him over me knee and smack his backside good and proper.’
‘That’s not a threat, girl, it’s a bleedin’ promise. And I’ll not be passing the message on ’cos I know what a devil me son can be at times. Anyway, can yer give me fifteen minutes to doll meself up a bit? Give us a knock and we’ll be ready.’
‘They’re a good strong pair, girl, he’d get plenty of wear out of them,’ Aggie said as she fingered the dark grey material. ‘A sensible colour, too.’
The assistant at Blackler’s hovered behind the counter. ‘Are you sure you have the right inside leg measurement, Madam?’
Irene nodded. ‘Twenty-nine inside leg, thirty-two waist. He’s only fourteen, but he’s tall for his age.’ She cast a critical eye over the trousers again. ‘How much did yer say these were, sunshine?’
‘Five and elevenpence, Madam, and they’re a good buy. He’ll get years of wear out of them.’
‘Not if he keeps on growing at the rate he is.’ Far from being bored, Titch was enjoying himself. ‘He’s going to be a six-footer, without a doubt.’
The assistant gave him one of her best smiles. ‘He will if he takes after his dad. If you don’t mind me saying so, you’re well above average height.’ She had them down as man and wife, with a mother in tow, and looked surprised when they all burst out laughing. ‘Have I said something wrong?’
‘Yer’ve only married me off to me best friend’s wife.’ Titch was tickled pink. ‘Look, yer’ve got her blushing.’
‘Take no notice of him, sunshine,’ Irene said, ‘I’ve always got rosy cheeks. It would take more than that to make me blush.’ She took three two-bob pieces from her purse. ‘Do I pay you?’
‘I’ll have to call the supervisor over. I’m new here, so I’m not allowed to make receipts out on my own. I’ll call her over.’
But Miss Simpson, the supervisor, had been keeping an eagle eye on her new recruit and raised a hand to say she was on her way over. ‘Can I help you, Miss Marsh?’
‘The lady wishes to purchase these trousers, Miss Simpson, and I need to make out a receipt.’
Vera Simpson was weighing Titch up and down as she walked to stand behind the counter. She liked what she saw, and directed her smile at him. ‘I’m sorry to keep you waiting, sir, but Miss Marsh is new and has to be supervised.’
‘That’s all right, my dear.’ Titch could feel his tummy rumbling with laughter. ‘My wife and I are not in too much of a hurry.’
Aggie chuckled, Irene turned her head away and the new assistant bit on her bottom lip. As for Miss Simpson, she was telling herself it was just her luck. The only men worth having were already married. Still, she’d keep on trying, otherwise she’d be left on the shelf. And the prospect of being a spinster, living on her own with only a cat for company, was one that didn’t appeal to her at all.
The trio waited until they were outside before letting the laughter free. ‘Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!’ Aggie wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘Yer could have had yerself a click there, son, if yer hadn’t been married.’
‘She was too stuck-up for my liking, Ma. I’d have to be on me best behaviour all the time and watch me language. Did yer see the way she looked down her nose at poor Miss Marsh? Blimey, she doesn’t half think she’s the whole cheese.’
Irene’s shoulders were shaking as she dropped the change in her purse. ‘Do they send yer to prison in this country for bigamy? I don’t think my feller would be too happy, he certainly wouldn’t come and see me on visiting day.’
‘Well, we’ve had a good laugh, haven’t we?’ Titch said. ‘And Jack’s got a nice pair of kecks, so everyone’s happy.’
‘He needs another pair for a change, but I couldn’t afford two pair in one go. So if yer’ve got a day free next week, yer can both come with me. It doesn’t hurt so much parting with money when ye’re enjoying yerself.’
Titch looked at his watch. ‘Yer’ve got bags of time, it’s only two o’clock. Let’s go to Reece’s for a cuppa and a cake. Eh, what say yer?’
Irene shook her head. ‘No, I can’t afford it, Titch, and I’m not sponging off you. Yer paid me tram fare, and that’s enou
gh.’
‘In the name of God, Irene, can’t yer let a friend mug yer?’ Aggie said. ‘I could do with a cuppa and a sitdown, me legs are not as young as they used to be.’
Irene tutted. ‘Aggie McBride, I’ve seen yer scarpering up our street like a two-year-old. Yer can run faster than me, so don’t be making that an excuse.’
Titch wagged a finger. ‘My ma always taught me never to argue with someone older than meself, it’s not good manners. So if she says she’s got old legs, then we’ve got no option but to agree with her.’ He put an open hand to the side of his mouth and in a loud whisper, said, ‘Even though she climbs our stairs three at a time.’
Irene gave in. ‘Okay, if you insist. I’ll have a cup of tea, but no cake.’
At the time, Irene meant it. But when Titch ordered a selection of cream cakes, her mouth started to water. ‘That’s not fair, that. Definitely hitting below the belt. Aggie knows I can’t resist cream cakes, that’s why I’m so fat.’
‘Not fat, Irene, bonny.’ Titch handed her the plate. ‘The chocolate eclair looks very inviting. And you can have the cream horn, Ma, I know yer’ve got a weakness for them.’
‘Ye’re right there, son. What I say is, sod me bleedin’ figure.’
‘My sentiments exactly.’ There was a look of pure bliss on Irene’s face when she bit into the eclair and the cream oozed out of the sides. This was a rare treat and she intended to savour it. ‘Ye’re spoiling me, Titch McBride. My feller won’t be able to do a thing with me after this high living.’
Aggie was thoughtful as she nibbled the end of the horn. ‘Is it next Friday your Jack leaves school?’
‘Yeah. He’s already told me he’ll wear his short trousers until he goes to bed, then Saturday morning he wants to wear his new ones. So expect a knock on yer door ’cos he’ll be doing the rounds, showing off.’
‘And it’s Lucy’s birthday on the Saturday, isn’t it?’
Irene licked her fingers before answering. ‘Yeah, I’ll have to get her a card and a little present of some kind. If me money runs to it, I’d like to get her a nice underskirt. I don’t think she’s got one, ’cos when she wears her new dress yer can see right through it.’
‘You get one, and I’ll go half with yer.’ Aggie turned to her son who was exchanging smiles with a girl at the next table. ‘Ay, you, buggerlugs, behave yerself. There’s only two things ever on yer mind … beer and women. That’s all yer think about.’
Not in the least put out, Titch grinned. ‘Ah, be fair now, Ma. Yer know very well that you come before the beer and women.’
‘In that case, put yer eyes back in yer head and listen to me. Yer said yer wanted to buy me something, and I’ve just thought of the very thing.’
‘Just name it, Ma, your wish is my command.’
‘To celebrate Lucy’s birthday, and Jack leaving school, I’d like to have a little tea-party for the youngsters. Just Jack and Greg, and Lucy can invite her friend, Rhoda. That’s if you’ll fork out for the food.’
‘Ma, that’s the best idea yer’ve had since I came home.’ Titch looked chuffed. ‘That wouldn’t be money down the drain, would it? But why can’t the grown-ups come, as well? I’m not going to be left out, that’s for sure, and yer can’t leave the others out.’
‘Can I butt in?’ Irene asked. ‘I think yer should have a word with Bob first. I’m sure they won’t be having a party for Lucy, and I know she’d be delighted if you had one for her. But yer couldn’t invite Bob without Ruby, not if me and George are there.’
‘That’s no problem – we’ll ask Ruby!’ Titch looked to his mother. ‘That’s all right with you, isn’t it, Ma?’
‘My idea was a children’s party, son, but you seem to have taken over. I don’t mind, though, the more the merrier. And while I don’t like Ruby Mellor, I agree that yer couldn’t ask Bob and not her. So you go ahead and make the arrangements, seeing as ye’re forking out for it. But I don’t want the children to know, I want it to be a surprise. And I’m determined about that, so woe betide anyone who lets the bleedin’ cat out of the bag.’
‘My lips are sealed,’ Irene said.
Titch squeezed his mother’s hand. ‘My lips are not sealed, Ma, but I’ll be very careful what comes out of them. Especially after I’ve had a few jars.’
‘Which is only every bleedin’ night.’ The tenderness in Aggie’s eyes belied her words. ‘Yer’ll end up with a big red conk and a beer belly, mark my words.’
‘Nah, there’s no chance of that. And when I pack the sea in, I’ll change me ways. It’ll be you and me, Ma, down to the pub every night, just before closing-time, for a pint of stout. And I’ll carry the jug – save yer hiding it under that shawl of yours.’
‘Who’s been telling tales out of school?’
‘Don’t look at me, Aggie,’ Irene said. ‘I’ve never said a word.’
‘Nobody’s been telling tales. It was Alec what mentioned it, and it was a compliment. He said yer might not be his biggest-spending customer, but ye’re definitely his most regular.’
‘He won’t get rich on what I spend, son, but you make up the shortfall when ye’re home. He must rub his hands in glee when he knows yer ship’s docked.’
‘Ye’re right there, Ma. He really gave me down the banks for being away so long this time. He said our captain had no consideration for folk like him what are trying to make an honest living.’
Aggie gasped. ‘He never did!’
Titch grinned. ‘No, Ma, he never did.’
Bob stood outside the confectioner’s window and gazed at the cakes on display. He spied what he was looking for and smiled when he saw the sign which said they were three for twopence. He could just about manage that.
The bell behind the door tinkled when he pushed it open, and the sound brought a young assistant through from a back room. Her grin told of a sunny disposition and her voice was friendly. ‘What can I get for yer that takes yer fancy?’
‘There’s a lot of things I fancy, love, but me pocket tells me I can only afford three fairy cakes.’
‘Well, that’s better than a kick in the teeth.’ The girl tugged a white bag from a hook and reached into the window. ‘Beats a drippin’ buttie, any day.’
‘You sound on top of the world,’ Bob said. ‘Are yer always so cheerful?’
‘I try to be. People don’t want to be served by someone with a face as long as a fiddle, it only makes them miserable. Mind you, I have a hard time on a Monday. Me face refuses to smile and I can’t get a joke past me lips. I’ve tried giving them a good talking to, but they’re not having any. So Monday is misery day.’ She folded the top of the bag over and placed it on the glass-topped counter. ‘I make up for it on the other days, though, and try to spread a little happiness. I make sure that not one person goes out of this shop without a smile on their face.’
She took Bob’s sixpence and opened a drawer for his change. ‘There yer go, a thruppenny joey and a penny.’ Then, as though she could no longer hold it in, she said, ‘I’m very happy today because I’ve got a date tonight.’
‘Ah, yer’ve got a boyfriend?’
‘He’s not me boyfriend yet, but I’m hoping he will be after tonight. Yer see, I’ve had me eye on him for months. I couldn’t believe me luck when he asked me for a date ’cos all the girls in our street are after him. He’s not half handsome.’
Bob smiled at her openness. ‘Keep that smile on yer face, love, and yer’ll bowl him over. The other girls won’t be in the meg specks.’
‘Ooh, I hope ye’re right. Next time yer come in, I’ll let yer know how I got on.’
Bob waved as he passed the window. She seemed a nice kid and he wished her luck. But it was doubtful she’d ever see him again. That was the first time in his adult life that he’d been in a cakeshop, and it would probably be his last. Now he could repay Kate, there would be no need to.
Chapter Seven
‘You go on ahead, Billy, I’ll catch yer up,’ Bob said. ‘I’ve got t
o get something out of me coat pocket.’ With his carry-out box under his arm, he made haste to the cloakroom. They only got three-quarters of an hour dinner break, so every minute was precious. And he was concerned about the fairy cakes that had been left in the bag in his pocket since he’d bought them the day before. They’d probably be a mass of crumbs by now with his luck. But he couldn’t let Ruby see them or there’d have been ructions. He could almost hear her shrill voice shouting that she couldn’t afford the luxury of cakes on the money he gave her, but he could find it for his mates all right. He’d never have heard the last of it.
Bob breathed a sigh of relief when he opened the bag and found that the sponge cakes, in their crinkly white paper cases, appeared to be in one piece. Thank goodness for that, he thought, hurrying to the canteen where, even from this distance, he could hear Peg giving forth on the joys of motherhood. ‘What a night I had with those blinking kids of mine. They just wouldn’t go to sleep even though I promised them a ha’penny each to buy bull’s eyes on their way to school. Three times I was up to them, but even a clip round the ear wouldn’t shut them up. Mind you, I couldn’t hit them hard because I was too tired and didn’t have the bleedin’ strength to knock them out.’
Elsie, her dimpled elbows leaning on the table, glanced sideways. ‘What did yer do in the end, girl?’
‘Threatened to send them to the bleedin’ Cottage Homes, that’s what. It shut them up all right, but the trouble was I was wide awake by then, and in a right temper, I can tell yer. Not with the kids, but with my feller. Here was me, in and out of bed like a bleedin’ yo-yo, and he was away to the world. Sleeping like a baby, he was, without a care in the world. That’s until I kicked him out of bed, like.’
Ada Smithson gasped. ‘Yer never did, did yer?’
‘With both feet, Ada.’ Peg nodded slowly. ‘And on his way to the floor he banged his head on the tallboy and didn’t know what the bloody hell had hit him ’cos he was seeing stars. When he came to, he said, “What the hell did yer do that for, yer stupid cow?” I told him it was for making something and not looking after it. He scrambled to his feet and stood at the side of the bed. “What the hell are yer on about, woman? It’s nearly one o’clock in the morning, a fine time to be kicking me out of bed and telling me I’ve made something and not looked after it.”’
