by Joan Jonker
‘Don’t forget to go and vote.’ Harry stood by Eileen’s machine. Tomorrow was his last day, and as the time drew near he realised how much he was going to miss the place. And in particular he was going to miss this big woman. Without her help he wouldn’t be married to Mary, and without her he wouldn’t have had so many laughs over the years. ‘Did you hear me?’
‘I might be daft, Harry, but I’m not bloody well deaf!’ Eileen stuck a finger under her turban and scratched her head. ‘I don’t think I’ll bother. I’ve never voted in me life, so why start now?’
‘Everyone should vote! What’s the good of having an election if no one can be bothered to go out and put a cross on a piece of paper?’
‘I’m all mixed up about who to vote for,’ Eileen said. ‘I’d vote for Churchill, but Bill’s dead against it.’
‘Far be it from me to come between man and wife, Eileen, but you should vote for who you want to.’ Harry studied the nib of his fountain pen, pushed it into his finger and watched the stain made by the blue ink. ‘After all, that’s what democracy is all about.’
‘Well, I’ll think about it.’ Eileen noticed Florrie trying to attract Harry’s attention. ‘Dozy boots wants yer.’ As Harry rounded the machine, Eileen called after him, ‘Don’t forget yer’ve promised to bring Mary and the kids up on Saturday afternoon!’
‘We’ll be there!’ Harry stuck his thumb up. ‘Are you going to bake a cake for the occasion?’
‘It’s obvious yer’ve never tasted me bakin’,’ Eileen’s voice boomed over the noise from the machines. ‘It’s nourishment yer want, sunshine, not punishment!’
Harry was smiling when he reached Florrie’s side. God, he was going to miss Eileen!
By Saturday all the results of the election had been counted, and Churchill had been thrashed at the polls. According to the wireless commentators, it was the servicemen who had swung the vote against him. Those still stationed abroad had been given postal votes, and it was they who voted in their droves for a Labour Government.
Bill was delighted. But although she kept her thoughts to herself, Eileen felt sad for Churchill. She could see Bill’s argument, but he hadn’t been here when Churchill had made those dramatic speeches, urging everyone to be strong and keep going. Listening to him had filled everyone with such pride and patriotism they’d have gone through hell and high water to make sure Hitler was defeated. He was bluffing most of the time, but it was his bluffing that won the war.
When Mary and Harry came in the afternoon, Eileen had heard enough about the election to last her a lifetime. So, pointing a finger, she warned, ‘One word about the election and I’ll scream the ’ouse down, so there!’
Emma and Tony were dressed in their Sunday best, and Mary was reluctant to let them play out with Joan and Edna. But seeing the disappointment on their faces, Harry put his foot down. ‘There’s no children round by us for them to play with, so for heaven’s sake let them have a bit of fun while they can.’
Eileen swayed her way to the kitchen, a sly smile on her face. She could be heard giggling and whispering to her mother and Harry raised his brows at Bill. ‘What’s your wife up to, Bill?’
‘Don’t ask me, Harry, Eileen’s a law unto herself! She’s been like a kid with a new toy all day.’ Bill was used to the Sedgemoors now and was completely at ease with them. ‘You never know with Eileen, what she’ll be up to next.’ At that moment, Eileen appeared in the kitchen doorway. In her hands she was carrying a cake with a lighted candle on top. But the brightness of the flame from the candle couldn’t compare with the glow on Eileen’s face. And the twinkle in her eyes told the startled Harry that there was more to come. ‘Hurry up, Mam!’ Eileen called over her shoulder. Then when her mother was by her side, she started to sing while Maggie waved a white hankie. ‘Wish me luck, as you wave me goodbye, Cheerio, as I go on my way’. With her hips swinging to the tune, Eileen belted out the words to Gracie Fields’ popular song. What she lacked in melody, she made up for in enthusiasm.
Bill was smiling. ‘So that’s what you two have been so mysterious about all day, eh?’
Harry’s eyes were bright with laughter. ‘Eileen, you’re incorrigible!’
Eileen looked sideways at her mother. ‘Eh, Mam, is that good or bad? What does incorrigible mean?’
‘It means you’re past help,’ Maggie informed her.
‘So is this candle.’ Eileen looked down at the candle which flickered brightly for a second before going out. ‘Anyway, Harry, this is a little leaving present. And don’t worry, I didn’t bake it … me mam did.’
Maggie dug Eileen in the ribs. ‘There’s someone knocking on the back kitchen window. I wonder who it can be?’
‘There’s only one way to find out, missus, and that’s by opening the flippin’ door!’
There was silence until they heard Maggie saying, ‘Hello, Vera, come in.’
Carol made a bee-line for Bill, then stopped when she saw her Uncle Harry and Auntie Mary. She couldn’t make up her mind who to go to, so she stood in the middle of the room, her eyes moving from one to the other.
‘She’s spoilt for choice,’ Eileen laughed. ‘What made yer come round the back, Vera? Was the club man after yer?’
‘I knocked on the front door, but we couldn’t make you hear above the noise you were making.’
Eileen placed the cake on the table. ‘I asked Vera to come round ’cos we never seem to get together these days. And Harry’s little leavin’ party was as good an excuse as any.’
Carol had finally made up her mind and settled on Harry’s knee with one arm round his neck and the other round Mary’s. They were making a big fuss of her and her hearty laugh brought a smile to all their faces.
‘Give us a hand with the butties, will yer, Vera, while me mam makes the tea?’
‘Your mam can sit down, and I’ll do the tea.’ Mary disengaged herself from Carol’s arm. ‘I’m not sitting here like a dog’s dinner while you do all the work.’
In the kitchen, Eileen looked from Mary to Vera. ‘Isn’t this nice? All mates together, the way it should be.’
Mary set about cutting the tin loaf, then passed the slices over to Vera to scrape a thin layer of margarine on. Then they were passed to Eileen to be made into sandwiches with the corned beef she’d cadged off Milly Knight.
‘Have you heard from Danny lately?’ Mary asked.
‘He’s coming home on Monday, on two weeks’ leave.’ Vera handed some sliced bread over to Eileen. ‘He said in his letter he’d be going back to Holland for another couple of months.’
‘Yer’ll ’ave to bring ’im round when he’s home,’ Eileen said. ‘I haven’t seen ’im for years.’
‘I haven’t seen him for years meself.’ Vera gave a nervous laugh. ‘It’ll be strange having him home again.’
‘Are the boys looking forward to seeing him?’ Mary asked.
‘It’s hard to know with the boys, what they’re thinking. They were old enough to remember what he was like, and kids don’t forget.’
‘I thought he was all right with them now?’ Eileen finished the last of the sandwiches. ‘He seemed to ’ave changed, last time I saw ’im.’
‘We’ll just have to wait and see.’ Vera didn’t want to talk about Danny. The house had been nice and peaceful without him, and if she was to be honest, she’d have to admit she didn’t relish the thought of having him home for good. True, he had changed since he joined the army, but Vera didn’t trust him to stay that way. If he went back to his old haunts and his old boozing buddies, then like as not he’d go back to his fits of bad temper. Vera sighed inwardly. All they could do was wait and see. But never again would Danny Jackson lay a finger on her or Carol. That was one thing she was sure of.
The three women cleared the table, with Maggie washing the dishes as they were brought out. Then, when everywhere was tidy, and Carol was playing with Edna’s game of tiddly winks, Eileen brought a half bottle of whisky and a bottle of port wine out of the side
board cupboard.
‘Well, you are doing it in style, Mrs Gillmoss!’ Harry patted his tummy. ‘I’m stored. That was a very nice spread, and I thank you.’
‘I ’aven’t got enough glasses, so me an’ you are goin’ to ’ave to make do with cups, Bill.’ Eileen filled the glasses and cups, then raised her cup to Harry. ‘The best of luck in yer new job, Harry.’
‘Thanks, Eileen.’ Harry took a sip, then raised his glass again. ‘Here’s to good luck for all of you. To you, Bill, Eileen, Vera, Maggie, and not forgetting my lovely wife, I wish you all the very best of everything. And, above all, may we always be friends.’
‘Shut up, before yer ’ave me bawlin’ me eyes out.’ Eileen took a mouthful of whisky and pulled a face. ‘Terrible when yer ’ave to drink this bloody awful stuff to make yerself ’appy.’
Eileen heard the back door open and twisted in her chair to see Joan come in, her hand gripping Emma’s, followed by Edna and Tony. The children’s clothes were filthy, but that didn’t surprise Eileen. What did surprise her was the tall form of Arthur Kennedy behind the children. ‘We brought ’im round the back, Mam, ’cos the front door’s closed.’ Joan’s eyes looked accusingly at the glasses and bottles. ‘Yer’ve been ’aving a party!’
‘Mind your manners, young lady,’ Bill said sternly. ‘And move out of the way and let Mr Kennedy in.’
Arthur looked embarrassed and glared at Joan. ‘They didn’t tell me you had visitors. I wouldn’t have bothered you if I’d known.’
‘All the more the merrier, Arthur! You’re very welcome,’ Eileen said. ‘You do the introductions, Bill, while I get another cup.’
‘No, I’ll not stay. I’ll come back another time.’
‘Yer’ll do as yer told and get yer bottom on that chair.’ Eileen pushed Arthur down and flung his trilby on the sideboard. ‘An’ yer’ll get drunk like the rest of us, whether yer like it or not.’
Arthur grinned. ‘I told you once, I’m not going to argue with you ’cos I know I’d lose.’
Bill raked over the embers of the coals before putting the fireguard in front of the grate. Hanging over it were two pairs of navy blue knickers airing off for the girls to wear for school the next day. ‘I think everybody enjoyed themselves, chick!’
‘Yeah, it’s nice to ’ave a get together with yer friends.’ Eileen was rubbing her tired feet. ‘Funny ’ow Arthur’s fitted in with us. He comes that regular he’s beginnin’ to feel like one of the family.’
‘I think he’s a lonely, lost man.’ Bill looked down at his clasped hands. ‘I feel sorry for him.’
‘Well, he’s always welcome in this ’ouse.’ Eileen yawned. ‘I’m glad it’s Sunday temorrer an’ I can ’ave a lie in.’
‘You’ve made some good friends while I’ve been away, chick!’
‘Yeah, I know! And all because Mary Bradshaw came to work on my machine. I knew Harry of course, ’cos ’e was me boss. But we’d never ’ave become real friends without Mary. And it was through her I met Vera. Small world, isn’t it, love?’ Eileen stifled another yawn. ‘I can’t keep me eyes open, I’m off to bed.’
‘I’ll just finish me ciggie, then follow you up.’
Chapter Eighteen
Bill knelt in front of the newly black-leaded grate willing the rolled-up pieces of burning newspaper to set fire to the sticks of firewood laid criss-cross on top of it. He was waiting for it to take hold before carefully placing the cobs of coal he had laid out on a piece of newspaper on the floor beside him. The trouble was, the firewood was damp and not going to light easily. If only someone would remember to bring the small sticks of wood in the night before, there wouldn’t be this trouble.
Bill shook his head, angry with himself. When am I going to stop blaming everybody else in the house when things don’t suit me? Seeing as I’m the only one with nothing else to do, surely to God I can at least see to little tasks like this.
Falling back on his heels, Bill shoved the poker between the rails of the grate and gently lifted the slowly burning paper and wood to let the draught get to it. And while he looked into the flickering flames his mind dwelt on his selfishness. It was only this morning, seeing Maggie getting the two girls ready for school, that the truth sank in. He was allowing his mother-in-law, a woman twenty-odd years his senior, to do what he should be doing. He had watched with growing shame as she’d rushed around seeing to the breakfasts, checked the two thin necks to make sure there were no tidemarks, packed their sandwiches and waved them off to school.
The firewood had caught now, and Bill carefully placed the cobs of coal on top. He’d bank it up later with some slack to eke out their meagre coal ration.
‘Is me mam in yet?’
Bill turned to see Edna’s face poked round the door. ‘Your mam won’t be home from work for another hour or so.’ Then Bill noted the woeful expression on his daughter’s face and the signs of recent tears. ‘What are you doing home from school so early?’
The question brought forth a wail of distress. ‘They sent me ’ome with a note for me mam.’
Bill rose to his feet. ‘Come here and tell me all about it.’
Edna came forward slowly, a crumpled letter clutched in her hand. ‘Miss said to give this to me mam.’
‘Give me the letter and take your coat off.’ Bill held the letter in his hand while Edna slipped out of her coat and laid it carefully over the back of a chair. ‘Now come and sit next to me and we’ll see what the letter has to say.’
‘I want me mam!’ Edna’s cries rose. ‘Teacher said to give it to me mam.’
Bill sat on the couch and patted a spot next to him, ‘Come and sit here, pet.’
Edna eyed him for a second, then sat down, as far away from her father as the couch would allow. She’d walked home from school slowly, looking in shop windows to pass the time till she thought her mother would be home. Now she was in for it.
Bill moved closer and put an arm round the shaking shoulders. ‘I’m sure there’s nothing in this letter that’s worth crying over, pet! Let’s see if we can sort it out before your mam comes in.’
Eileen eyed the two figures on the couch. At first her heart was lifted to see Bill with his arm around Edna, holding her close. Then suspicion took over. ‘What’s going on?’
Bill handed the letter over and watched Eileen’s eyes run hurriedly over the handwritten note. ‘Oh, my God, yer’ve got nits in yer hair!’
‘There’s no need to let the whole street know,’ Bill said quietly. ‘Edna feels bad enough as it is!’
Eileen sank on to a chair. ‘Yer can’t ’ave nits! None of us ’ave ever ’ad dirty ’eads!’
‘The nurse from the clinic said I ’ave.’ Edna’s tiny voice came from within the depths of Bill’s arms. ‘Three of us in our class got letters.’
Eileen looked at Bill. ‘Where the ’ell would she catch them from?’
‘Irene Clarkson sits next to me in class, an’ she’s got them.’ Edna sat forward, the worst was over now. ‘Yer can see them in ’er hair.’
‘Right!’ Eileen jumped up. ‘I’ll run down to the chemists and get some Sassafras oil and a fine-tooth comb. I’ll give yer ’air a good do tonight, then again temorrer night. I’ll get rid of the bloody things if it kills me.’ Eileen rummaged in her purse to make sure she had enough money, then made for the door. ‘I wouldn’t get too close to ’er, Bill,’ she called over her shoulder, ‘otherwise she’ll pass them on to yer.’
Eileen spread the newspaper on the table then motioned to Edna. ‘Get yer ’ead down over this.’
The steel fine-tooth comb raked through the thin hair, bringing screams from Edna. ‘Ow, our mam, that hurts!’
‘I’m sorry, sunshine, but it’s the only way to get rid of them,’ Eileen said, then she noticed Joan looking on with a smirk on her face. ‘You’ll be laughin’ the other side of yer face in a minute, young lady, ’cos you’re next! If our Edna’s got nits, then ten to one yer’ll ’ave them as well, with sleepin’ with ’er.�
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Poor Edna’s scalp was sore by the time Eileen had finished with the fine-tooth comb, and when the Sassafras oil was rubbed in, her screams were pitiful. And even though the gob stopper that Eileen had had the sense to buy dulled the screams, it didn’t stop them.
Maggie looked on with pity on her face. And when Eileen dragged a terrified Joan to the table, she thought it was time to step in. ‘Come here, love,’ Maggie held her arms out to Edna. ‘All kids go through this, you know! I can remember your mam going through the same thing, and screaming her head off just like you.’
Edna was stunned into silence. ‘Me ma ’ad nits?’
Maggie nodded, ‘So did I at your age! When you’ve got a classroom full of children, you only need one with nits and before you know it, everyone’s got them.’ Maggie looked at Bill for support. ‘Aren’t I right, Bill?’
Bill sniffed in the strong Sassafras oil tang and smiled, ‘The smell brings it all back! I can remember as though it was only yesterday, every Friday night my mother used to drag me out to a little lean-to we used to have at the back of the house. And no matter how much I kicked and screamed, she used to douse my hair with that stuff.’
Fine-tooth comb in hand, Eileen turned. ‘This ’ouse is too small for any lodgers, so they’re gettin’ chucked out! These two can stay off school temorrer, and the next day our Edna’s takin’ a note in with her to tell Miss Wright she’s got to be moved away from Irene Clarkson. Let some other sucker ’ave the pleasure of her company.’
Eileen stretched her legs out in front of her and heaved a sigh. ‘What a flippin’ day! That’s the last thing in the world I expected to come ’ome to.’
Bill smiled. ‘You should have seen Edna’s face … she was terrified. I felt heartily sorry for her.’
‘It’s me mam I feel sorry for, ’avin’ to sleep in the same room as them! The stink up there is somethin’ shockin’.’ Eileen pulled on her bottom lip. ‘With all the fuss, I forgot to ask where me mam got to this afternoon.’
‘I persuaded her to go to the matinee.’ Bill looked sheepish. ‘For six months I’ve sat and watched her doing all the work, and I thought it was about time I did my share.’
