Taking a Chance on Love

by Joan Jonker

  ‘How about staying in bed for another half-hour, sunshine, so I can have a lie in? Besides, our Ginny won’t want to get up yet. She was rushed off her feet yesterday and was half dead when she got home from work.’

  Then they heard a sleepy voice call, ‘I’ve been awake for ages, Mam. Our Joey woke me up to ask me what the time was, and I couldn’t get back to sleep again.’

  Beth lifted Andy’s arm from her waist and slipped her legs over the side of the bed. ‘No rest for the wicked.’ She shivered and rubbed her arms. ‘I’ll go down and warm the room up first, so stay where yer are, Joey. I left the fire banked up, so all I need to do is rake it out and put a few pieces of coal on. There’ll be a fire up the chimney in no time.’

  ‘I don’t feel the cold, Mam, so can I come down with yer?’

  ‘No, yer can’t! Yer’d be like a cat on hot bricks wanting to open yer presents, and yer know we open them together. So hold yer horses for just ten minutes and I’ll give yer a shout when the fire’s on the go.’

  As she stood up and slipped a cardigan over her shoulders, Andy said softly, ‘I’ll be a good boy and do as I’m told, as long as yer promise me I can have an extra Christmas present?’

  ‘Oh, aye, sunshine, and what’s that, then?’

  ‘That we have an early night tonight.’

  She bent down and kissed his cheek. ‘Yer don’t ask for much, sunshine, so yer have my promise on that.’

  Twenty minutes later Beth was calling up the stairs, ‘Come on, lazy bones. The fire is up the chimney and the tea’s in the pot. What more can yer ask?’ She stepped back quickly as Joey came bounding down the stairs. As she was to say later, he’d got himself so wound up he would have walked through her. ‘Ay, watch it, sunshine, I don’t want to end up in hospital with a broken leg on Christmas Day.’

  He looked penitent at first, then when he realised he hadn’t hurt his beloved mother, a cheeky grin spread across his face. ‘I would have come and visited yer in hospital, Mam, even though I’d have to walk ’cos there’s no transport on a Christmas Day. As soon as I’d opened me presents I’d have started walking.’

  She ruffled his hair. ‘Cheeky article! I’ve a good mind not to give yer any presents now.’

  Ginny came down then, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. ‘Ooh, I could have slept through the day, I’m dead beat.’

  ‘Well, we’ve got a lazy day, sunshine, yer can put yer feet up on the couch and relax. And we’ll all have an early night so we’re refreshed for the parties.’ She looked up to see Andy on the landing. ‘Here’s yer dad now, so yer can start giving the presents out, Joey.’

  Tiredness was forgotten for the next hour as paper was ripped from presents. Andy was pleased with his shirt and socks, Beth showed her appreciation of a pink underskirt and stockings while Ginny was over the moon with the dress Beth had bought her from Sadie at Paddy’s Market. But the person who brought them all the most pleasure was Joey when he saw his first pair of long trousers. He was so excited anyone would think he’d won the pools. ‘Mam, can I put them on now?’

  ‘Of course yer can, sunshine, and Ginny can try her dress on while I make us some toast. Yer dad will clear the mess off the floor for me.’

  It was a day of family closeness and contentment. When the dinner was over, they all helped with clearing the table and washing the dishes. Joey wanted to go to their two neighbours’ houses to show off his first pair of long trousers, but his mother very neatly put him off without him being disappointed. She said wouldn’t it be better if no one saw them until he turned up wearing them at the party next door? What a surprise they’d all get! And after careful consideration Joey agreed and contented himself with walking the living-room floor with his hands deep in the trouser pockets and his chest sticking out a mile.

  While the grown-ups were comfortably settled in Beth’s, with glasses in their hands and gossip, jokes and laughter on their lips, in the house opposite the youngsters were having a wonderful time. Mick and Seamus had turned out to be ideal hosts, keeping their guests highly amused with their long list of Irish jokes, then singing a duet in voices that everyone agreed were as good as Bing Crosby’s. After they’d bowed to the applause, whistles and cat calls, they suggested someone else should now take to the floor. But no one had the nerve so there were no takers.

  ‘Well, let’s have a game of pass the parcel,’ Mick said. ‘We can all play that.’

  ‘Oh, yeah!’ Joan was all for it. ‘That’s good that is. If ye’re left holding the parcel when the music stops, yer have to pay a forfeit.’

  ‘What kind of forfeit?’ Ginny asked, looking doubtful. ‘Don’t ask me to sing ’cos I can’t.’

  ‘Yer’ll be all right, Ginny,’ Bobby told her. ‘Yer can recite a piece of poetry, anything.’

  So the furniture was pushed back to leave the middle of the room clear for the circle of chairs which the boys set out. Only then did they remember there was no music. So it was agreed that Joey would stand with his back to the circle and shout ‘Stop’ at intervals. Amelia was the first one to be caught out, and although the boys tried, no amount of coaxing would get her to sing. The most she would do was recite ‘Old Mother Hubbard’, and that was with her face as red as a beetroot. The next one to be caught out was Marie, and this brought a complaint from the girls that the boys were cheating. So for spite Marie also recited a nursery rhyme. This didn’t go down very well at all, so Mick suggested they each write a forfeit on a piece of paper and the person caught out would have to do what it said on the paper which would be folded four times and, with eyes closed, picked out of Mr O’Leary’s best hat.

  There was much laughter amongst the boys as they wrote out their forfeits, and Ginny knew they were up to some tricks. So when she was the next one to be left holding the parcel, she was filled with apprehension as she dipped her fingers into the hat and pulled out a piece of paper. She opened it and gasped. ‘It says, do a tap dance! I can’t tap dance to save me life!’

  Bobby would have rushed to her rescue by offering to do the forfeit for her, but Mick’s face was set. ‘Yer’ll have to do the best yer can, Ginny, like we’d have had to do if we’d picked that piece of paper. So, in the middle of the floor with yer and do yer best.’

  Ginny was glad she had her dance shoes on, at least her feet looked all right even if they were only stamping up and down. And it was the shortest tap dance in history.

  The girls squealed with delight when Seamus was left holding the parcel next. His forfeit was to do an Irish jig, which to the annoyance of the girls he did very well. Marie was most impressed and asked, ‘How did yer learn to do that?’

  Seamus grinned. ‘Me mam taught me and our Mick when we were little. I thought it was daft meself, but it came in handy tonight.’

  Joan wasn’t laughing when she picked her forfeit. ‘It says I’ve got to kiss one of the lads! Some hope they’ve got!’ She folded the piece of paper and threw it back into the hat.

  Ginny clamped her mouth tight on a chuckle and beckoned to Joan to bend down while she whispered in her ear. When Joan straightened up she was giggling. ‘Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll kiss one of the boys.’ She put a finger on her bottom lip and tilted her head. ‘Now, let’s see, who shall I kiss?’ Playfully she stood in front of Mick who rubbed his hands in glee, until she spun around and caught poor unsuspecting Joey.

  ‘Ay, geroff!’ His face flaming, he rubbed hard on his cheek where the kiss had landed. ‘I’m going to tell me mam on you, yer daft nit.’

  There was loud laughter at the boy’s embarrassment, then they sat down and carried on passing the parcel. The loser was Seamus again, and his forfeit said he had to kiss a girl. He didn’t hesitate, and Amelia didn’t protest. But all the girls said it was a fiddle when one after the other, Mick, David and Bobby came out with the same forfeit. However, they lifted their cheeks for a kiss because they didn’t want to be thought spoilsports. And although Joey complained that he was fed up standing with his back to them, the ga
me went on. It was a definite fiddle, though, because now all the slips of paper said kiss a girl or kiss a boy. But although the young girls were embarrassed getting a kiss, even though it was on the cheek, they got used to it and really found it quite exciting. Safe to say the youngsters had far more fun at their party than their parents did at the one taking place opposite.

  Although, if you’d stood in the middle of the street, you would have found it hard to say from which house the loudest laughter came. For with the beer and milk stout flowing freely, and Flo’s non-stop entertainment, well, perhaps when it came to enjoying themselves, the older generation were able to hold their own.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The winter months after Christmas were happy ones for Ginny. She loved her job and the people she worked with, and enjoyed the nights she spent out with her friends. Her dancing had improved and she wouldn’t be embarrassed to dance with anyone now. Not that dancing with a stranger was likely to happen as the gang still stuck together. There’d only been one incident to mar her happiness, and that had been telling a lie to her mates. For Miss Meadows had booked tickets for a play at the Playhouse, which really hadn’t been to Ginny’s liking as she found the actors all spoke with posh voices and were a bit wooden. Not that all her attention was on the stage: she was very impressed with the theatre itself which was an eye opener for her, as were the clothes the women were wearing – long fur coats, short fur jackets and beautiful capes over dresses which must have cost the earth. And the amount of jewellery adorning their necks, wrists and fingers . . . well, if that was real, they must all be millionaires.

  Once again Charles had accompanied them and insisted upon driving her home. She’d made him stop at the top of the street, though, so no one would see her, and no amount of coaxing on his part would make her agree to his driving her to her door and meeting her parents. When she still refused, he asked if she would come out with him one night, without his Aunt Alicia acting as chaperon.

  By this time Ginny was getting agitated in case she was seen by any of the neighbours and her friends found out. Not that she should worry about them pulling her leg, it was only in fun. Except for Bobby. She didn’t think he’d find anything to laugh about. He seemed to be very possessive when they were together, and although Ginny really didn’t understand why, she found she enjoyed being in his company. So to leave the car before she was seen, she said she would have to ask her parents’ permission to go out on a date because she was, after all, just turned fifteen. That night she’d scrambled out of the car, flown hell for leather down the street, and told her mam and dad what had happened. But she made them promise not to tell the neighbours because her friends would only pull her leg. It seemed harmless enough, so they agreed, but Ginny couldn’t help feeling that by not telling her friends, she’d lied to them.

  All this was going through her head while she was filling up the counter on a day in March. Bobby and Mick had had their seventeenth birthdays, and the joint party they’d held was marvellous. And now David’s seventeenth was coming up, with the prospect of yet another celebration. The only niggle in Ginny’s head was would the boys feel they were too grown-up now for the church hall dances, and staying in one night a week to play cards? Would they be ready to spread their wings and go further afield for their pleasure?

  Ginny jumped when Dorothy Sutherland touched her arm and said, ‘In the last few minutes I’ve watched your face light up in a smile, and then the corners of your mouth turn down as though you’re thinking of something sad.’

  ‘I was thinking about me friends,’ Ginny told her, with a smile. ‘Three of the boys are now seventeen and I was wondering if they’d be moving on to pastures new. They probably won’t want to bother with fifteen-year-old girls.’

  ‘Time moves on, Ginny, and each phase of your life is different. Two years from now you will look back and wonder how you ever enjoyed the things you’re enjoying today. As for the boys, well, only time will tell whether they like what they have now, or, as you say, think it’s time to move on to pastures new.’

  ‘That’s why I was looking sad,’ Ginny told her. ‘I don’t want things to change.’

  ‘They’re bound to, pet, nothing can stay the same forever.’ Dorothy took a box from under the counter. ‘Make yourself busy, here come Miss Halliday and Mr Sanderson.’

  Ginny’s smile was wide. She had grown very fond of these two people, but wouldn’t for the world tell anyone because they’d think she was crazy. ‘Good morning.’

  Miss Halliday was looking very well these days. Her face wasn’t so drawn and she was wearing more modern clothes. She did have a deputy now who was a good worker and had taken some of the strain from her, but she insisted on doing the morning round herself with Mr Sanderson. ‘Good morning. I hope everything is running smoothly, Miss Sutherland?’

  ‘No problems, Miss Halliday.’

  Clive Sanderson smiled. ‘I think we can safely say that leather goods and haberdashery are run like clockwork.’

  Ginny was always polite, but she never had a problem talking to either of these bosses as an equal. ‘Have yer told Miss Bleasedale and Miss Whittaker that, Mr Sanderson?’

  ‘No, my dear, I haven’t. But I will do if you think I should.’

  ‘It’s nice to be praised, Mr Sanderson, and I’d hate to sit in the canteen having me cup of tea and bragging to Marie about what yer said. Wouldn’t be fair, would it?’

  He chuckled. ‘No, you are quite right, Miss Porter, and Miss Halliday and I will act on it immediately.’

  As the couple walked away, Ginny said, softly, ‘I think they go really well together. Two very nice people.’

  Ginny would have been very happy if she’d been in Mr Sanderson’s office half-an-hour later and heard what he was saying to a blushing Mary Halliday. ‘Mary, I think we get on very well together, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, of course we do, Clive, very well.’

  ‘Can I ask how deep your feelings go for me? Do you see me as a nice chap and easy to get on with, or do you think of me with real fondness?’

  ‘Really, Clive, I don’t know what to say.’ Mary dropped her eyes for a second. Then she met his eyes and asked, ‘What are your questions leading up to?’

  ‘If you are feeling embarrassed, my dear, then imagine how I feel. But I’ve put this day off for too long, and I made up my mind in bed last night that today would be the day I found the courage to say what I’ve wanted to say for some time. If you return my feelings of respect and affection, Mary, would you allow me to court you?’

  Her heart was singing, but she didn’t want to get her hopes up to have them dashed down. ‘Clive, when you court someone, it is with a view to marriage, and I can’t believe that is what you have in mind?’

  ‘Oh, but it is, my dear! I have grown to be very fond of you and my life would be complete if you agreed to be my wife. But I am old-fashioned enough to want the joy of courting you, in the hope I can eventually win you over.’

  ‘Clive, you won me over years ago.’ Mary felt she owed him the truth. ‘I have admired you from afar, never dreaming that one day we would become close friends. So the last few months have been heavenly for me.’

  A lock of his fine hair dropped over his forehead. As he pushed it back, his slow smile was spreading across his face. ‘Does that mean you will agree to be my wife?’

  Mary closed her eyes and let out a sigh of happiness. ‘Clive, that would be a dream come true for me. But there is so much to think about first. There’s my job here . . .’

  That was as far as she got before he was holding her hand and shaking his head. ‘I will not listen to any reasons why you think we shouldn’t be married in the not-too-distant future. There is nothing to stand in our way, Mary, you have a perfectly capable deputy to take over when you leave. Why do you think I insisted on you getting an assistant? It wasn’t in the certainty that you would accept my proposal, but in the hope. Those few days we spent together over the Christmas period were the happ
iest of my life, and I knew then I wanted you there permanently.’ He gently squeezed her hand. ‘Are you going to give me an answer, Mary, or must I go home tonight to my lonely house without anything to look forward to?’

  ‘Of course I will marry you, Clive! You’ve made me feel like a young girl again, and I thank you for that, and for the honour you have bestowed upon me by asking me to be your wife.’ She lifted his hand and kissed it. ‘My feelings go far beyond affection and fondness.’

  He pulled her to her feet. ‘Oh, I say, what a wonderful day this is turning out to be! Shall we be daring and seal our engagement with a kiss?’

  It was a tender kiss, soft as a butterfly, but it proved to both of them that they really were made for each other. Mary was a little embarrassed as she pulled away. ‘I should go now, Clive, I’ve gone well over the break time.’

  ‘I don’t want you to leave, but I know you must. I will drive around to your house tonight so we can have a good talk.’ His boyish grin reappeared. ‘I’m so happy, I have to tell someone. Would you mind very much if I tell Sarah Ormsby? I know she will be discreet.’

  ‘Very well, Clive, and I’ll see you this evening about eight.’ Mary knew she was walking along the corridor but she couldn’t feel her feet. And her head wasn’t on her shoulders, it was on cloud nine.

  Ginny saw Miss Meadows walking towards her and greeted her with a warm smile. The woman was always nice and friendly, and Ginny genuinely liked her. ‘Hello, Miss Meadows. Are yer on yer dinner break?’

  ‘Yes, dear.’ Alicia wasn’t going to say she could take her lunch break any time she liked, and for as long as she liked. ‘How are you, Virginia?’

  ‘I’m fine! And how are you?’

  ‘Looking forward to your coming to tea one day. How would this Sunday suit you?’

  Ginny didn’t do much on a Sunday because everywhere was closed, and she did feel sorry for Miss Meadows having no family. ‘Yes, I’d like that.’