by Joan Jonker
‘I suppose yer’ve noticed I’ve put weight on?’ she ventured. ‘In this bloody dress you couldn’t help but notice.’ Oh, God, I’ve done it again, she groaned inwardly. Me mam warned me about swearing.
‘I think we’ve both changed,’ Bill said softly. ‘Me, far more than you.’
‘Oh, yer’ve got a bit thinner, that’s all!’ Eileen waited to see if Bill was going to tell her anything about the last five years, but he stayed silent. ‘A couple of pans of me mam’s scouse, an’ yer’ll soon put the weight back on.’
Bill closed his eyes. It would take more than a pan of scouse to erase the scenes of pain, suffering and humiliation he’d had to witness. He shook his head to chase away the memories. Even if he tried to tell Eileen, she wouldn’t understand. You had to go through it yourself to know what it was like.
Eileen watched his pencil-thin fingers twisting a button on the navy striped jacket. ‘Where did yer get the suit from?’
‘The Army.’ A grimace passed over Bill’s face. ‘Every soldier is issued with one when they get demobbed.’
‘Oh, it’s one of those demob suits they’re all talkin’ about!’ Eileen kept her tone light. ‘I don’t think it’s your colour, love! Yer suit grey better.’
Bill fingered the coarse, cheap material. ‘Not much to show for five years of a man’s life, is it?’
‘D’yer want to talk about it?’ Eileen leaned closer. ‘It might make yer feel better.’
‘I doubt that very much,’ Bill said. ‘Perhaps I’ll tell you about it some day, but not now … not yet.’
‘Then shall we hit the hay? Yer must be tired out.’
‘You go first, and I’ll follow when I’ve had a ciggie.’
‘Uh, uh!’ Eileen said emphatically. ‘Not on yer nellie! I’ve ’ad five bloody years of goin’ up those stairs on me own, but not any more! When I go up, you go up! Yer can ’ave yer ciggie in bed.’
Eileen watched the smoke from Bill’s cigarette spiral up to the ceiling, her mind filled with conflicting emotions. She’d waited so long for this night, and her body was tingling with a desire born of need. But Bill didn’t seem to understand. Instead of being wrapped in each other’s arms, Bill was sitting with his back to her, smoking! She felt like grabbing the cigarette from him and stubbing it out. But a warning bell sounded in her mind, telling her to let Bill move at his own pace. They had to get used to each other once again, just like a newly married couple.
At last she felt the bed move, as Bill leaned down to put the ash tray on the floor. Then he slid between the sheet and lay beside her. Seconds ticked into minutes, but still he made no move. Then Eileen could stand it no more. She pulled him towards her and held him tight. ‘I’m over the moon to have yer back in me bed, love! Tell me it’s the same for you.’
‘I’m sorry, chick!’ Bill kissed her briefly on the lips, freed himself from her arms and turned on his side. ‘Goodnight.’
Eileen felt as though she’d received a body blow that had knocked the wind out of her. Her first impulse was to reach out to him, but once again the warning bell sounded, and instead she whispered, ‘Goodnight, Bill.’
But for Eileen it was far from a good night. She tossed and turned, her mind in a turmoil. What had she done to deserve that rejection? Didn’t he love her any more? All night the questions came, but not one answer.
The answers were all in the mind of the man lying next to her, pretending to be asleep. Bill could feel her torment but couldn’t bring himself to face her and tell her the truth. The day would come when he’d have to, but he was too weak in mind and spirit to tell her now.
Chapter Seven
The next morning Eileen waved the children off to school, then five minutes later her mother hurried out to be first in the queue at the fish shop in County Road. It had been hard trying to behave normally when her mind was so troubled, and it was with a sigh of relief that Eileen closed the front door. ‘I’ll ’ave five minutes to meself while the coast is clear.’
Eileen often held conversations with herself, and as she pulled a chair out to sit down, she continued. ‘It’s like bloody bedlam in here when the kids are in! It’s a wonder they didn’t wake Bill up!’
Bill! The cause of her splitting headache and upset tummy. She couldn’t get last night out of her mind … and the picture of Bill turning his back on her. If he’d made an excuse, that he was too tired or something, she’d have understood. But with that one gesture, all the dreams she’d had over the years of the joy she’d feel on having him back again had disappeared like a puff of smoke.
Eileen cupped her hands and rested her chin on them. Her Bill wouldn’t have behaved like that unless there was something drastically wrong. But what?
The silence and peace in the house wrapped itself around Eileen’s body, calming and clearing her mind. He’s my husband and I love him dearly. Whatever it is that’s troubling him, we’ll work it out together. Perhaps it’s just the strangeness of being home, and in a few days, when he’s had a chance to get used to us again, he’ll be all right and everything will be back to normal. Until then I’ll just have to grin and bear it. Be the same old easy going, laughing Eileen everyone thinks I am, and pretend that everything in the garden’s rosy!
The sound of next door’s grate being raked out reminded Eileen there was a tub full of dirty clothes waiting to be washed and she scraped her chair back. ‘I’d better get this fire lit for some hot water, then I’ll take Bill a cup of tea up. He might be feeling better after a good night’s sleep.’
Eileen opened the bedroom door softly, and her nose wrinkled as the smell of moth balls invaded her nostrils. We’ll never get rid of the smell of the blasted things now, she thought, his things have been wrapped in the smelly balls for too long. I’ll have to get his suit out on the line for a few days in the fresh air before he’ll be able to wear it.
Eileen approached the bed and looked down on the sleeping form. God, he was thin! There wasn’t a pick on him! His face was haggard and the white hair made him look like an old man. And all this because of some power hungry maniac called Hitler! May he rot in hell, the bastard!
‘Wake up, sleepy head!’
Bill shot up in bed, his hands waving so violently the cup was almost knocked out of Eileen’s hands. Like a man demented with fear, Bill’s eyes darted round the room, finally coming to rest on Eileen’s startled face. There was no sound in the room except the ticking of the alarm clock and Eileen’s pounding heart. Although it was only seconds, it seemed like an eternity before the fear left Bill’s face and his eyes showed recognition. He lowered his head as though ashamed. ‘I’m sorry, chick! I couldn’t make out where I was for a minute.’
Eileen almost blurted out that he’d frightened the life out of her, but that inner voice told her to be careful. ‘I’ve brought yer a cup of tea, but don’t expect to get waited on every day, Bill Gillmoss! This isn’t an ’otel, you know!’ Eileen’s shaking hand held out the tea. ‘I don’t know ’ow yer slept through the racket the kids made! They made enough noise to waken the dead!’
‘I’m not quite dead.’ Bill took the cup thinking of the hundreds of times he’d wished he could die. ‘Thanks, chick! I’ll get up when I’ve drunk the tea and had a ciggie.’
Eileen speared a piece of bread with a fork and leaned forward to hold it in front of the fire. ‘It’s no use askin’ what yer want for yer brekkie, ’cos we’ve got nothin’! So it’s Hobson’s choice, I’m afraid.’
Bill watched as she turned the piece of bread to toast the other side. ‘I’m not very hungry.’
‘Hungry or not, yer’ve got to eat something.’ Eileen waited till the bread was nicely browned, then swivelled round. ‘Come an’ sit at the table, where I can see yer.’ She scraped some margarine thinly on the toast before placing it in front of Bill with an unlabelled jam jar. ‘Cissie Maddox made the jam with apples, an’ she sent it up for yer.’ The floorboards creaked as Eileen’s massive body shook with laughter. ‘Yer must be w
ell in, there! Cissie’s usually that mean she wouldn’t give yer last night’s Echo!’ Eileen waited expectantly for a smile to appear on Bill’s face, but he concentrated on his toast and made no comment. Oh, God, Eileen groaned inwardly, it’s going to be hard going. But she had to keep trying to get some response from him. ‘Who was the other feller Alan picked up at the station?’
‘A bloke called Arthur Kennedy.’
Eileen persisted. ‘Did Alan take ’im ’ome first? Where does ’e live?’
‘Somewhere down the Dingle, off Mill Street.’ Bill chewed half-heartedly on the toast, offering no further information.
‘Was ’e in the prisoner of war camp with yer?’
Bill shook his head. ‘I met him in the repatriation camp.’
It’s like getting blood out of a stone, Eileen thought. But I’ve got to keep talking otherwise we’ll never get anywhere. ‘Had ’e been a prisoner of war?’
‘I don’t know!’
Eileen winced at the tone of Bill’s voice. He may as well have told her to shut up, ’cos that’s what he meant! And what was the good of trying to talk to him when she had to drag every word out of him? Keeping her sigh silent, Eileen stood up. ‘The water should be ’ot by now, so I’ll start the washing before me mam gets back. She may as well ’ave a bit of a rest while I’m off … God knows she deserves one.’
Eileen watched the water fill up the old tin tub through the hose attached to the tap, her mind deep in thought. They’d been separated for nearly six years, and you’d think they’d have lots to talk about. But Bill didn’t seem to want to talk about his life during those years, nor was he showing any interest in hers or the kids. It just wasn’t natural! You couldn’t pretend those years had never been, or that there hadn’t been a war!
Eileen turned the tap off, unscrewed the hose, then sprinkled Persil powder in the tub and swished it around. Her movements automatic, she picked up the posser and began to press up and down on the clothes. There’s nowt I can do about it, she told herself. Only hope that each day will bring him out a bit more. Perhaps she was expecting too much too soon.
Eileen rubbed the handle of the posser briskly between her two palms, swishing the clothes around in the tub. She should leave them to steep for half an hour, but she couldn’t bring herself to go back in the living room and face Bill’s indifference. Perhaps when her mam came back it might be better. He always got on with her mam, and he might be a bit more talkative when she was there.
Eileen added softly, please God!
‘What are you doing out here?’ Maggie asked sharply. ‘Fancy leaving Bill on his own!’
‘What does it look like, Mam?’ Eileen’s voice was equally sharp. ‘I’m certainly not bakin’ a cake!’
‘There’s no need to be so sarcastic!’ Maggie’s face was flushed. ‘I’m not in the mood for your sense of humour.’ She waved a paper bag under Eileen’s nose. ‘I’ve stood for two hours in a flipping queue to get this! A piece of cod that will barely feed two, never mind six of us! We’ll need a magnifying glass to see it!’
Eileen draped some of the wet clothes over her arm and picked up a handful of pegs. ‘I bet it’s at times like this yer wished yer used swear words, like I do.’ A grin lit up her face. ‘Tell yer what, Mam, I’ll do it for yer an’ it’ll get it off yer chest.’ Eileen brought her brows down in a frown and wiped the smile from her face. ‘Two bloody hours in a bloody queue for a bloody tiddler that probably gave itself up! Now, does that make yer feel better?’
‘No, it doesn’t!’ Maggie said. ‘And you can just leave that washing and go in to Bill. I’ll hang the clothes out.’
‘This is the last lot, so I may as well finish it off.’ Eileen waddled towards the door. ‘If yer want somethin’ to do, stick the kettle on for a cuppa.’ She was in the yard when she remembered and hurried back. ‘We ’aven’t got much tea, so take it easy. Just one teaspoonful will ’ave to do, or we won’t last till our next ration. It’ll look like maiden’s water, but that can’t be ’elped.’
Satisfied with her mother’s startled expression, Eileen went back to hang the clothes out. With a peg between her teeth, she muttered, ‘If I lose me sense of humour, I may as well die off!’
Maggie glanced at Eileen, who shrugged her shoulders to the question in her mother’s eyes. Even Maggie’s gentle efforts to get Bill talking had met with the same response as Eileen’s. He answered questions as briefly as he could without being rude, but contributed nothing off his own bat to the conversation. It crossed Eileen’s mind that he was like a lodger who they were meeting for the first time. Maggie talked about the weather, the neighbours and the shortage of food in the shops. But not once did she mention the war … guessing that the subject was taboo with Bill.
Eileen heard her mother try to interest Bill in the new furniture and muttered silently, ‘God loves a trier!’, then her eyes went to the mirror over the mantlepiece where the old photograph of Bill was stuck in the wooden frame. It had been taken when he’d first come home on leave in his army uniform, and he had his head back, laughing. It was hard to believe that the man in the photograph, tall and straight, with black hair and white teeth bared in a smile, was the white-haired man sitting hunched up on the couch. Tears threatened as Eileen tore her eyes from the photograph. How long, dear Lord, will it be before we get Bill back to health, and will we ever see that smile again? And how long before I feel his arms around me, holding me tight like he used to?
Maggie shook Eileen’s knee. ‘I can hear the kids.’
Shrieks of laughter preceeded the entrance of the two girls, fighting to be first in the room. ‘Mam,’ Edna’s face wore a proud smile. ‘Teacher said I was very good today, an’ she let me give the pens out.’
Eileen noticed the frown on Bill’s face. ‘Hold yer ’orses! Don’t yez even say “hello”?’
The smiles faded as two pairs of hazel eyes turned to Bill. ‘Hello, Dad!’
Bill ignored their greeting. ‘Do you have to make so much noise when you come in?’
The girls looked so dejected, Eileen sprang to their defence. ‘Oh, come on, love! They’re only kids!’
‘They’re old enough to know how to behave themselves.’ Bill’s eyes, sunk back into his head, glared. ‘If you treat them like babies, then that’s how they’ll act.’
Stung by the injustice, a hot retort sprung to Eileen’s lips, but she managed to bite it back. What the hell did he think she’d been doing for the last five years … sitting on her backside?
‘Can we go out to play, Mam?’ The joy of being prefect for the day had gone for Edna. She was expecting to be praised, but instead had been told off! It wasn’t fair! Her mam would have told her how pleased she was if it hadn’t been for … him! Edna glared defiantly at her father. It was his fault, he’d spoiled it all!
Joan, two years older, had the sense to know when to be quiet. If she left it to Edna, they’d end up getting sent to bed. ‘Can we go out, Mam?’
Eileen nodded. ‘Don’t go out of the street, though, ’cos I’m goin’ to start on the tea.’
‘D’yer know where me top and whip are?’ Edna asked.
Bill turned his body. ‘Don’t you know how to say “please”?’
Eileen screwed her eyes up so she couldn’t see the hurt on the faces of her two daughters. All these years she’d told them how marvellous their dad was, and now this! She heard a tiny voice saying, ‘Please, Mam,’ and felt like holding the two thin bodies close, and murmuring words of comfort. But taking sides now would set a pattern for the future, and she couldn’t do that to Bill.
‘Your top and whip’s in yer bedroom, on the bottom of the wardrobe.’ Eileen forced a smile. ‘Don’t forget, stay in the street or I’ll smack yer backsides.’
It was with a heavy heart Eileen prepared the tea. If this was a sign of things to come, she dreaded what the future held for herself and the kids. Okay, so she’d ruined the kids by giving them all their own way, but she wasn’t a bloody miracle woman
! She couldn’t be out at work every day, and see what the kids were up to at the same time!
When the fish came to the boil, Eileen lowered the gas under the pan and walked back into the living room just as Billy came in from school. He looked so proud and handsome in his new long trousers, and so like the Bill in the faded photograph, Eileen’s heart turned over. If Bill starts on him, I will have something to say, she vowed silently. I’m not going to let him upset the whole household. So she waited, ready, if necessary, to spring to the defence of her son.
‘Hi, Mam! Hi, Nan!’ Billy grinned at them before turning to his father. ‘Hi, Dad!’
Bill looked up. ‘Hello, son!’
Eileen heaved a sigh of relief. Thank God for that!
Billy turned one of the wooden dining chairs to face the couch. ‘How’ve you been today, Dad?’
A ghost of a smile flickered across the gaunt face. ‘Not so bad, son! And you?’
Eileen’s relief was tinged with jealousy. She was his wife, why couldn’t he look her straight in the eye, like he was with Billy? Then Eileen scolded herself. What difference did it make who got through to him, as long as somebody did! It was a step towards … what was the word Alan used, rehabilitation, that was it!
Billy, oblivious to the tension in the room, sat forward, his elbows resting on his knees. ‘Has me mam told yer I leave school in two weeks, Dad, an’ I’ve got a job to go to?’
A flicker of interest showed in the tired eyes. ‘I think your mam thought you’d rather tell me yourself.’
That was what Billy had been hoping for. His account of the interview he’d had for the job was given in great detail, his words accompanied by gestures with his hands. He’d been polite, he told his dad, like his teacher had told him, and hadn’t forgotten to address the man who interviewed him as ‘Sir’. Flushed with pride, he explained what the work entailed and what his weekly wage would be. Then sitting back with a smug smile on his face, he said, ‘There’s only two of us in our class got jobs so far, so I’m very lucky.’
