by Joan Jonker
Instead of the small figure of Elsie Smith on the step, it was a tall, slim girl dressed in a WRNS uniform. Mary’s mouth gaped. ‘Barbara!’
Barbara Wilson grinned as she twirled round. ‘How do I look?’
‘Fabulous! When did you join up?’
‘Three months ago. I did call round to tell you, but there was no one in.’
‘I’m standing here gawping like someone soft. Come in and tell us all your news.’ As Mary stepped aside to let her friend pass, she whispered, ‘Have you heard about Mam?’ When Barbara nodded, Mary flung the living room door open. ‘Wait till you see what the wind’s blown in, Mam!’
Barbara stood in front of Martha and drew herself up to her full height. ‘Do I look like the pig’s ear, Mrs B?’
Martha nodded, her eyes bright with pleasure. She was very fond of the girl who had been Mary’s friend since they started school. At one time she’d never been away from the Bradshaws’ house, till Bob came on the scene. Martha was used to seeing her with her dark hair down to her shoulders, but now it was cut in a short bob, and the style suited the white uniform hat she was wearing at a jaunty angle. Her brown eyes and white teeth flashed as she grinned. ‘It was like this, you see, Mrs B! All the lads were getting called up, so I thought if I was ever going to get a feller I’d better join up too!’
‘This is Eileen, a friend from work.’ Mary made the introductions as she pushed Barbara down on the couch. ‘I’m dying to know what made you join the Wrens, and where you’re stationed?’
Barbara rolled her expressive eyes. ‘My dear, I look positively ghastly in khaki. Doesn’t suit my complexion, don’t you know!’ Her put-on posh accent sent Eileen into gales of laughter and Mary into a fit of the giggles. ‘No, seriously,’ Barbara went on, ‘I never even considered anything but the Wrens. I’m stationed at Plymouth, but before you ask what everybody else asks, the answer is “No”, I haven’t even been on a ship yet!’
‘Never mind the ships,’ Eileen said, ‘have yer got a feller?’
‘You’ve heard about sailors having girls in every port, well I’ve got a feller on every ship. The trouble is, they’re never in port long enough to get to know them.’
Mary was hanging on to every word. ‘How long are you home for?’
‘I go back next Thursday.’
Mary looked at her friend’s neat uniform, the black stockings, and her flat-heeled highly polished shoes. ‘You look dead smart in the uniform.’
‘I’ve got another surprise for you. I met Jean Graves at the shops this morning, and she’s joined the Land Army!’
‘Go way?’ Mary shook her head. ‘I haven’t seen Jean for ages.’
‘I’m meeting her tomorrow – we’re going to Reeces’ tea dance.’ Barbara’s eyes lit up. ‘Why don’t you come with us? It would be like old times, the three of us together again.’
‘I couldn’t!’ Mary’s refusal came quickly. ‘I couldn’t leave me mam, and I’m not in the mood anyway.’ She saw the query in Barbara’s eyes. ‘Bob only went back off embarkation leave this morning, so I’m a bit down in the dumps.’
‘Don’t be so bloody daft!’ Eileen snorted. ‘Yer not going to bury yerself till Bob comes home, are yer?’ She saw Mary’s eyes flash, and hurried on. ‘I can sit with yer mam, so yer’ve no excuse.’
‘You’re on nights tonight, so you won’t feel like coming here tomorrow afternoon.’
‘I can have a few hours’ kip in the morning, and I can sleep all tomorrow night ’cos I start mornings on Sunday.’ Eileen clicked her teeth. ‘For cryin’ out loud, kid, what do we have to do to get you to go out and enjoy yerself?’
‘Come on, Mary,’ Barbara wheedled. ‘Let’s give Jean a surprise. I’m meeting her outside Reeces, so we could go down on the bus together.’
It was the look on her mother’s face that decided Mary. ‘OK! I know when I’m licked.’
Barbara wasn’t convinced. ‘You won’t change your mind?’
‘No chance!’ It was Eileen who answered. ‘You call for her at two tomorrow and I’ll see she goes. Even if I have to carry her there.’
When Eileen waved Mary off at two o’clock the next afternoon she didn’t expect her back till after six o’clock. So there was surprise on her face when Mary let herself in just after five. ‘You’re home early! Wasn’t it any good?’
‘Yeah, it was all right!’ Mary stood at the bottom of the bed and smiled at her mother. ‘Barbara and Jean got off with two naval officers and I felt like a gooseberry, so I came home early. They’re staying in town and going out with them tonight.’
‘What about you?’ Eileen asked. ‘Didn’t you get any dances? I can’t see the other two copping off, and not you! Unless all the fellers needed their eyes testing.’
‘I had a few dances.’ Mary kept her eyes averted. ‘Harry Sedgemoor was there and he got me up a few times.’
‘Well, fancy that!’ The astonishment on Eileen’s face was genuine. She’d told Harry that Mary was going to Reeces, but she didn’t expect him to turn up there. ‘He gets around, doesn’t he?’
‘It was crowded! You could hardly move on the dance floor. It looked like the League of Nations with British, French, Dutch and American uniforms.’ Mary’s face became serious. ‘I got a shock when I saw what the bombing had done to Blacklers. To think I was in there only two weeks ago getting knickers for me mam, and now it’s in ruins.’ Suddenly remembering she wasn’t to give her mother any bad news, she forced a smile. ‘Anyway, what have you two been up to?’
‘While you’ve been out flyin’ yer kite, it’s been like Casey’s court in here! First Father Younger called to see how yer mam was, an’ he ended up giving me five rounds of the kitchen for not going to Mass on Sunday. Said I was settin’ a bad example to the kids.’ Eileen rolled her eyes upwards. ‘I told him I was doing me bit for the war effort by working on Sundays, but he said it was no excuse. If I couldn’t get to church in the morning I could always go at night to the seven o’clock service.’
‘Who else called?’
‘Doctor Greenfield! Yer mam’s goin’ in the ’ossie tomorrow. They’ve got a bed for her in Walton ’ospital.’
‘That was quick.’ Mary didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She knew her mother would be better off in hospital, but she didn’t want her to go. ‘I’ll have to get your things ready.’
‘Nine o’clock the ambulance will be here.’ Eileen managed to heave herself off the couch after the third push. ‘I may as well get home and get some washing on the line while there’s a bit of dry out. It’s been in steep all night so I’ve only got to put it through the mangle.’
‘Thanks for coming, Eileen! You’re a pal!’
‘Think nothin’ of it, kid! I’ll call in tomorrow an’ see if me mate here,’ Eileen winked at Martha, ‘gets settled in the ’ospital all right.’ She got to the door and turned. ‘I’m glad for your sake yer going in ’ospital Mrs B ’cos they’ll get yer better. But I’m glad for me own sake too, because tatty head here can come back to work now.’
‘Why?’ Mary looked puzzled. ‘Who’ve you been working with?’
‘Bloody Jean Simpson, that’s who!’ Eileen walked back into the centre of the room. ‘Honest to God, if I have to work with that stupid cow much longer I won’t be able to keep me ’ands off her.’ Eileen looked from Mary to Martha. ‘All day long her mouth’s goin’, chewin’ bloody chewing gum! It never stops, even when we’re havin’ our break she’s blowin’ bubbles with the bloody stuff.’
While Mary’s shoulders shook with laughter, and Martha held her hand over her distorted mouth, Eileen got into her stride. Between roars of laughter she did an impression of Jean Simpson and the offending mouth. ‘Can yer imagine lookin’ across the machine all day, an’ seein’ this peroxide blonde with about two inches of black root showin’, and a mouth that’s doin’ bloody contortions?! I know I should be pitying her instead of makin’ fun, but I can’t help it! She’s shaved all her eyebrows off, an’ she
’s got this thick black pencil line where her eyebrows should be. She looks like a clown, but thinks she’s the pig’s ear ’cos she’s goin’ out with a Yank. The poor sod’s even talkin’ like a Yank now!’ Eileen held her hand up for silence. ‘If yez can stop laughing for a minute, I’ll tell yez something that’ll really knock yez out!’ She waited for Mary to control her giggles before putting on a solemn face. ‘She calls me “honey”!’
‘Will you shut up!’ Mary had her arms folded across her tummy. ‘I’ve got a pain now with laughing.’
‘Yer wouldn’t be laughing if yer had to put up with it!’ Eileen saw the smile leave Martha’s face. ‘What is it, Mrs B?’
Martha held her hand up, her head cocked, listening. Mary had stopped laughing now and she too was straining to hear the raised voices coming from next door. ‘How many times do I have to tell yer to keep her from under me bloody feet? Get her out of here … quick!’ Danny’s angry voice filled the now silent room, and Eileen jerked her head towards the wall. ‘What’s goin’ on?’
‘Big, brave Danny Jackson, picking on a woman and a little girl.’ Mary’s face was white as she shushed. ‘Listen!’
Once again Danny’s voice invaded the room. ‘Keep on like that an’ you’ll get another belt!’
‘The bastard!’ Eileen stood up. ‘He’ll not hit a woman or a baby while I’m around.’
‘Don’t interfere, Eileen.’ Mary laid a restraining hand on her arm. ‘If you go round he’d kill Vera after you’d left.’
‘Yer mean we sit here and do nowt?! Let him get away with it?’
‘Me mam had words with Danny once, and it ended up with Vera getting a black eye.’ Mary gave out a long shuddering sigh. ‘He often gives her a belt.’
‘Bloody hell! What he needs is a man to sort him out!’ Eileen was roaring like a bull. ‘I’d better go before I burst a blood vessel.’ She crossed to the bed. ‘I’ll be in to see yer in ’ospital, Mrs B. You do as they tell yer an’ yer’ll be up and about in no time.’
Mary’s face was dark with anger as she stood by the door. ‘If he’s upset me mam, I’ll go in there and kill him meself! She’s always said he’d do Carol an injury one of these days.’
Eileen had never seen Mary so angry before. ‘We’d soon sort him out, wouldn’t we, kid? I’ll hold him, while you thump him!’
Mary’s face relaxed into a smile as the picture of Eileen holding Danny in an arm lock flashed through her mind. ‘Lovely thought, isn’t it?’
‘It sure is, kiddo! But this isn’t gettin’ me washing done, so I’ll toddle off and see yer tomorrow. Tar-ra, kid.’
Mary went straight upstairs to get the suitcase to put her mam’s things in ready for the hospital. It was an old and battered case, but it was the only one they had so it would have to do.
Eileen trudged up the side streets on her way home. Two things were blighting her usual happy nature. One was Danny Jackson … the bullying bastard!… and the other was the agony she felt as her shoes dug into her swollen ankles. When she’d got the washing out she’d have to put her feet up for an hour. She turned into her street and when she saw Joan and Edna playing skipping rope further down, she waved in greeting.
‘You’re late!’ Maggie was leaning against the front door, her arms folded. ‘I was beginning to wonder where you’d got to.’
‘Yer knew I was callin’ to Mary’s!’ Eileen pushed back the turban which was sliding down her forehead. ‘You’re blockin’ the doorway, Missus! Can I come in?’
In the living room, Maggie watched her daughter throw her coat over the back of a chair before delving into her apron pocket and pulling out a crumpled letter. ‘This came after you’d left.’
Something in the tone of her mother’s voice sent a shiver down Eileen’s spine as she stared at the letter, but she made no move to take it. She was afraid of the disappointment she’d feel if it wasn’t from the one person in the whole wide world she wanted it to be from.
‘Take it, lass!’ Maggie spoke softly. ‘It’s from Bill.’
‘Oh, dear sweet Jesus!’ Eileen snatched the letter and stared at the handwriting. ‘I never thought I’d hear from him again.’
Maggie fussed. ‘I’ll make the tea while you read it in peace.’
‘Do us a favour, Mam? Take some of the clothes out of the tub and rinse them for us. I want to get them on the line while there’s some dry out.’
‘Forget the clothes!’ Maggie huffed. ‘Fancy worrying about clothes at a time like this!’
‘I’m not worryin’, Mam.’ A faint smile crossed Eileen’s white face. ‘It’s our Billy who’ll be worryin’ if he’s got no kecks for school tomorrow.’
Maggie closed the door behind her. It was the first letter Eileen had received from Bill since he’d been taken prisoner, and it wasn’t before time something nice happened to the daughter who helped other people in trouble but never complained about her own. She lifted some of the clothes out of the tub where they’d been steeping all night and wrung them out as well as she could before throwing them in the sink and turning the tap on. She was deep in thought, watching the cold water begin to cover the clothes, when the door was nearly burst off its hinges and Eileen stormed in, waving the letter. ‘I don’t believe it! I don’t bloody believe it!’
Maggie turned the tap off. ‘Keep your voice down! The whole street can hear you.’
‘I don’t care if the whole of bloody Liverpool can hear me!’ Eileen raved. ‘Look at it, Mam! There’s only about ten words that haven’t been censored!’ Maggie took the letter being pushed in her face. One look at the page told her why Eileen was so mad. The letter started. ‘My dear Eileen. I am in a prisoner of war camp in …’ The rest of the sentence and every word on the page had been lined through with heavy blue ink, making it impossible to read what had been written underneath. Maggie turned the page over to see the censor had been busy again. Only the last four lines had been left untouched. ‘Give my love to our Billy, Joan, Edna and your mam. Tell our Billy he’s the man of the house now, till I get back. I wish I could give you your kiss in person, but it’ll have to wait until I get back. I love you. Bill.’
Maggie handed the letter back without a word. She watched Eileen walk back into the living room, her shoulders slumped in utter dejection. Wiping her hands on a bit of towel, Maggie followed. ‘At least you know he’s safe.’
‘All these months I’ve waited and worried, without a word, and that’s all I get.’ Eileen’s voice was soft. ‘I know I’m lucky compared to the thousands of women who’ll never hear from their husbands again, but I still don’t know where he is, or if he’s all right.’
‘All letters are censored, love, not just yours.’
Eileen jumped up. ‘To hell with censors, and to hell with this bloody war! I’m goin’ to get me washing done.’
‘For God’s sake sit down,’ Maggie pleaded. ‘I’ll see to the washing.’
‘No, thanks, Mam! You’ve got enough to do looking after the kids all day.’ Eileen sniffed back the tears. ‘I’ll take me temper out on the mangle.’
Eileen opened a drawer and took out some pegs. With a nightie of Joan’s in her hand, and a couple of pegs in her mouth, she went into the yard. Shaking the nightie by the shoulders she held it up to peg on the line before realising the line wasn’t there. ‘That’s all I need,’ she growled as she walked over to the wooden post that one end of the line was tied to. There was only a short piece of rope dangling from the post, and when Eileen looked across the yard to where the other end should have been tied, there was nothing there at all.
‘Where’s the clothes line, Mam?’ Eileen tried to stay calm, but it had been a hard day.
Maggie thought Eileen was pulling her leg at first, then decided that today was not a day for leg pulling. ‘In the back yard of course, where else would it be?’
‘I know that, Mam, and you know that. The trouble is, the bloody clothes line doesn’t know it!’ Eileen’s facial muscles were twitching. ‘It’s gon
e!’
‘Gone! Don’t be so daft! How can it be—’ Maggie’s eyes widened and her hand went to her mouth. ‘Oh, no! I saw Billy with a knife in his hand before, and I took it off him. But he wouldn’t do a thing like that, would he?’
The picture of Joan and Edna skipping flashed through Eileen’s mind, and for a woman of her size she was out of the room like a flash.
‘Joan, Edna, get down here, fast!’ her voice thundered.
‘But we’re playin’, Mam!’ Joan protested.
‘I said get down here, quick!’ The girls knew better than to argue with that tone of voice, and they ran as fast as their thin legs would carry them.
‘Where did yez get that skipping rope?’
‘Off our Billy.’ Joan knew trouble when she saw it and her mouth started to tremble. ‘Our Edna was cryin’ because Vera Steadman wouldn’t let us play with her, so our Billy said he’d get a skipping rope for us.’
Eileen pointed ominously to the front door. ‘Inside, both of yez!’ She pushed them before her down the hallway. ‘Where’s our Billy?’
‘I dunno, Mam! Last time we seen him he was playin’ with his mates.’
There was no sign of the culprit in the street so Eileen marched back through the house to the entry. Not a soul was in sight as she walked down the narrow cobbled entry, until a small figure appeared round the corner of a side alley. Dressed like an Indian, he was creeping stealthily, body bent, eyes looking back over his shoulder, alert for an ambush from behind. He’ll be in for it when his mam sees him, Eileen thought. The boy’s face and legs were blackened with soot, and on his face, over the soot, he’d painted blue and white chalk stripes. A piece of string was tied around his forehead and stuck into the string was a chicken feather. A home-made bow hung over his shoulder, and the sticks of wood in his hand were make-believe arrows. ‘Have you seen Billy Gillmoss?’ The boy jumped at the sound of Eileen’s voice, and when he looked up her mouth dropped in horror. ‘You little bugger! Look at the state of yer!’ Eileen grabbed the now terrified Billy by the scruff of the neck and raised her arm to belt him one. Her hand was in mid-air when, cowering, young Billy looked up and she found herself looking into his dad’s eyes. Her hand dropped to her side … all the anger dying away. Billy cringed, waiting for the clout he knew he deserved. When it didn’t come he ventured a squint through half-closed eyes. His mam had a funny look on her face and Billy was quick to take advantage of the situation. He tried to squirm free of the hand holding him tightly by the scruff of the neck. ‘Ah, ray, Mam, leggo! Yer not half hurtin’ me.’
