Fur Coat, No Knickers

by Anna King

  His face clearing, Stan thought back to the previous night and smiled slowly. Maybe there was more to Danny than met the eye. The sight of the normally bumbling, painfully shy man falling all over Beryl Lovesett had been an eye-opener and no mistake. Thinking of the man in question, he was about to ask Aggie if Danny had been back home yet, then changed his mind. He didn’t want to take the chance of Aggie asking any awkward questions. If Danny decided to introduce Beryl to the family he wouldn’t be around to see the commotion that would surely follow.

  All of a sudden Stanley had the desire to be back among his mates. Rising to his feet, he cleared his throat loudly and said, ‘Well, I’d better be off, Aggie. Thanks for putting me up, I appreciate it. See you.’

  Putting the plates and mugs away, but carefully leaving the egg shells on a spare plate to be noticed if Rene or Jeannie popped in, as they usually did in the morning, Aggie swung round to face the ill-at-ease man, then blew out her cheeks in exasperation. Like Danny, the army hadn’t changed Stanley. He was still the same inept, defensive little git he’d always been. You’d think he was saying goodbye to a stranger instead of a woman he’d known for years, and the grandmother of the woman he intended to marry. A pang of guilt attacked her conscience. All right, so she wasn’t the easiest person to get along with, but if Stanley intended to marry into the family he was going to have to get used to her ways, instead of expecting her to fall on his neck in gratitude for the slightest little thing he did. To be fair to the lad, he had managed to prise Polly out of the basement, although whether his good work would be undone the minute he left remained to be seen.

  Aggie took a few steps towards Stan then stopped as she saw the sudden alarm that crossed his face. She had been about to give him a kiss goodbye, but he could whistle for that now. Once again the old thought reared its head in her mind. What on earth did Grace see in him?

  The same thought was going round Grace’s confused, tired brain as she changed into a clean blouse and skirt for work. The leave she’d been waiting for for so long hadn’t turned out as she’d hoped. And as painful as it was, she had to face the truth. All the time spent apart from Stanley hadn’t strengthened her love for him, and after last night something inside her had died and could never be brought back to life. The worst of it was she couldn’t say anything, not with Stanley returning to the front line. It would be cruelty of the worst kind to tell him now she didn’t love him any more.

  Sinking down on her single bed, she dropped her face in her hands in despair. Maybe she was feeling this way because she still hadn’t got over the shock of her parents’ deaths. No sooner had the idea crossed her mind than she dismissed it angrily. Of course she hadn’t got over her mum and dad dying, maybe she never would, not completely. But one thing she did know for sure, and that was their deaths had nothing to do with her altered feelings for Stanley. If anything, the tragedy should have brought them closer, but instead of the strength she had so desperately needed from him, Stanley had let her down once again. It wasn’t his fault, he just didn’t have it in him to be the man she needed. And as she ran down the stairs to say goodbye, she knew he never had, she just hadn’t seen it before. But even though she had no intention of telling him the wedding was off, neither would she be a hypocrite. There would be no loving kisses and passionate embraces of goodbye.

  Grace was spared the embarrassment of any awkward farewell scenes by Violet’s friend offering her a lift to the underground. Gratefully seizing the opportunity to avoid a possible prolonged farewell, Grace gave the stunned Stanley a quick hug, said she would write as soon as possible, and hurried out to the waiting car. The last she saw of her fiancé he was standing on the doorstep, his kit-bag at his feet, looking for all the world as if he’d just received the biggest shock of his life. Beside him stood Polly, clinging to his arm, her face tearful as she said her goodbyes. As the car turned the corner, Grace caught one last glimpse of them and thought they looked for all the world like a couple.

  The journey to Bethnal Green took longer than usual due to the night’s heavy raid, and when Grace alighted from the car she thanked the officer warmly before hurrying down the stationary escalators to her platform, where dozens of people were busy tidying up their belongings after a night spent on the cold, draughty platforms. As always, Grace was amazed at the cheerfulness of these people, some of whom had spent the entire night on the filthy tracks, there being no more room on the crowded platforms and escalators.

  When the train pulled into the station, Grace clambered aboard, eager to get away from the depressing sight of so many people with their few pathetic belongings, a large number of whom no longer had a home to return to and would have to find temporary accommodation in an overcrowded church hall or empty classroom.

  Spotting an empty seat at the far end of the carriage, Grace hurried towards it, just beating a well-dressed man to the punch. Plopping down triumphantly, she rested her head against the rail and closed her eyes, feeling a curious sense of well-being, almost as if she had just had a miraculous escape.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The entire family was, to put it in Aggie’s words, gobsmacked. Here was Danny, that mild-mannered, ineffectual man, who as far as his family knew had never had a girlfriend in his life, here he was, standing facing them telling them he had got married, the inane grin plastered over his sweating face making him look like a simpleton. And the loose piece he’d married hanging on his arm and gazing up at him like he was Douglas Fairbanks, instead of a near-middle-aged man with a receding hairline and a pot belly.

  ‘Look, I know it’s a shock to you all.’ Danny was staring at the group of women, who in turn were gazing back at him as if witnessing an apparition. ‘But it was all a bit quick. Sort of a whirlwind romance, wasn’t it, Beryl?’ He asked cloyingly of the woman at his side. All eyes turned to the flash-looking blonde wearing a cheap grey two-piece and a straggly piece of fur around her neck.

  Beryl felt the penetrating gazes of the women in her new husband’s family and stiffened her spine. Bloody lot of toffee-nosed cows, looking at her like she was something the cat had just dragged in. Even the old biddy, who looked just like any other East End housewife, was glaring at her like she was rubbish. Well! She’d show them. They could do and say what they wanted, it was no skin off her nose. She had a ring on her finger now, and if they didn’t like it then they could bloody well lump it.

  The atmosphere in the kitchen was stifling, and even Polly was wishing for the siren to go just to relieve the tension. But the worst was yet to come.

  Gathering courage from the striking woman who was looking at him in open admiration, Danny cleared his throat, stuck out his ample chins and said firmly, ‘I can see it’s been a great shock to you all, and I’m sorry about that, but there it is. I’m married now, and I hope you’ll make Beryl feel welcome while I’m away. After all, she is one of the family now.’

  Danny’s words finally loosened Aggie’s tongue. Shambling forward on the chair, she screeched, ‘What d’yer mean, make her feel welcome? You telling me you’re leaving her here with us while you go swanning off back overseas? Oh, no. No, you don’t, Danny, me lad. All right, so you’ve got married, that’s up to you, Gawd help you…’ She shot a withering look at the stony-faced blonde. ‘But she ain’t living with us and that’s an end to it.’ Shaking her massive body, Aggie glared at the flushed man.

  It would be fair to say that the women had thought there’d been enough shocks for one morning, in fact for a lifetime, but they were in for a further surprise. For Danny, seeming to grow in stature, for the first time in his life raised his voice – and the effect was startling.

  ‘And I’m telling you, Aggie, that Beryl is my wife and she’ll be living in my home. Yes, you can look, all of you. But this is my home. I don’t like to bring this up, because I know how painful it is for all of us, but the fact is that with Sam gone the house passes to me. We’ve already talked it over…’ Here he stopped for breath and patted Beryl’s arm
for moral support. ‘And we’ve agreed that Beryl will take over my rooms while I’m away, so she won’t actually be living with you, although she will have the run of the house. I’m sure it’ll all work out fine and you’ll be the best of friends in no time,’ he finished hopefully, his eyes flickering at the emptiness of his words, his short burst of bravado rapidly fading under Aggie’s furious gaze. Suddenly anxious to get away from the accusing eyes that seemed to be boring into him from all directions, he said over-brightly, ‘Come on, darling, I’ll show you where you’ll be living from now on.’

  With a triumphant look at the stupefied women, Beryl took her husband’s arm and swept from the room, her head held high.

  The silence in the kitchen lasted until the incongruous couple had left the room, then Aggie, looking fit to burst, exclaimed, ‘Bloody hell’s bells! Tell me I’m dreaming someone. Somebody tell me I’m having a bleeding nightmare, ’cos I don’t believe what I just heard.’

  Slowly sinking down on a chair, Grace shook her head.

  ‘It’s no nightmare, Nan, I only wish it was. I knew Uncle Danny was seeing her, but…’

  ‘You knew?’ Aggie thrust her face forward, her eyes wild. ‘You knew your uncle was seeing that trollop and you didn’t say anything? Well…!’ She threw out her arms, then, bringing her fist down on the table with a thump that made them all jump, she shouted, ‘Why the bleeding hell didn’t you tell me? You know the poor sod ain’t got the brains he was born with, not where women like that are concerned. Fur coat an’ no knickers, that’s her sort, out for a cushy billet provided by some poor git who keeps his brains in his trousers – which accounts for most men… And did yer see that mangy bit of fur hanging round her neck? Huh! There’ll be some poor cats going about with their arses hanging out tonight. Oh, my Gawd! What are we gonna do? ’Cos I’ll tell you this much, I won’t be able to stick it under the same roof with a woman like that. One of us’ll have to go ’cos…’

  ‘Don’t talk daft, Nan. You’re going to have to lump it like the rest of us; we don’t have any choice.’ Violet, a cigarette between red-painted lips, stared hard at her grandmother. ‘Like Uncle Danny’s so forcefully pointed out, this is his house now, and we’re just the boarders. Oh, I know he’d never throw us on to the streets, but he’s not going to be here, is he? And there’s always the possibility that he might not come back. So…’ Raising her eyes to the ceiling, she said bitingly, ‘Unless we all want to find new homes, I suggest we keep that in mind when dealing with the new Mrs Donnelly, because she doesn’t strike me as the sort who would put up with being treated like dirt in her own home.’ With this parting shot, Violet left the room in a cloud of perfume, her heels clicking on the kitchen lino before being muffled by the hall carpet.

  All the aggression seemed to seep from Aggie’s large frame as with anxious eyes she appealed to her remaining granddaughters: ‘He wouldn’t let that tart chuck us out, would he? I mean, I know your uncle’s a bit soft, but he wouldn’t stand for that, not Danny. He’d never choose a loose bit of fluff over his own flesh an’ blood… No. No! I don’t believe it.’ But there was a sudden lack of certainty in her voice, which Grace and Polly were quick to notice. Yet there was nothing they could do to comfort the elderly woman.

  The sound of footsteps overhead brought their eyes upwards, and each wondered what was going on upstairs.

  * * *

  ‘Well, what do you think, darling?’ Danny, his face split into a wide beam of pleasure, watched as his wife inspected his rooms.

  First Beryl had looked at the bedroom, with its comfortable wide bed covered in a silk padded quilt, its double wardrobe and chest of drawers, all standing on a faded but good-quality patterned carpet. Walking slowly into the adjoining room she saw two green armchairs – a bit the worse for wear but, like the rest of the furniture, of good quality – stood either side of a long, highly polished coffee table, on which rested a small, tidy stack of magazines. Over in the corner was a walnut bookcase, filled with hardback books of all descriptions. Not much of a reader herself, except for trashy magazines, Beryl passed the bookshelf disinterestedly, stopping by a gramophone resting against the wall, and the small stack of records piled neatly in the corner on a small sideboard.

  She kicked off her shoes and, making herself comfortable in one of the armchairs, she lit a cigarette. Narrowing her eyes up through the smoke, she thought quickly. It was a lot better than she’d hoped for, but if those cows downstairs thought she was going to stay cooped up here once Danny had gone back overseas, then they had another think coming. Raising her gaze she looked at her husband, who was anxiously awaiting her approval. Poor bastard! He looked as though he’d just shown her around Buckingham Palace, though compared to the flat she’d been living in, this was a palace. And it was all hers. But Christ! She had earned it. Not for having to share Danny’s bed – that was no hardship to a woman like her; five minutes and it was all over. No! That had been the easy part. It had proved more difficult getting Danny to agree to a quick wedding. He had gone on and on about it not being proper getting married in a register office, and how he wanted to wait until his next leave so they could get married in a church – and a Catholic church to boot. For a mild man, Danny could be remarkably stubborn when he wanted to be. She had had her work cut out there, but eventually she’d had her way. Though she’d had to do all the necessary running about to obtain a special licence. All Danny had had to do was turn up. But it had all been worth it. She was now set up for life.

  She spread her generous lips into an inviting smile and beckoned her new husband over, and like a boisterous puppy he bounded gratefully to her side.

  As she held the plump body in her arms, Beryl gazed over Danny’s shoulders in amusement. Let him have this last night thinking he was a real man. It wasn’t worth making a fuss at this late date. He’d already shown he had some guts by facing up to that old harridan downstairs; she didn’t want to take the chance he might direct some of that strength at her if she showed her true colours now.

  Drawing him down further into her voluptuous bosom, she smiled inwardly. She’d done it. She had a smashing house and Danny’s pay to look forward to. Life was going to be a lot easier from hereonin. And if something happened to her new husband… Well, wouldn’t that be too bad. And it could easily happen. After all, there was a war on!

  Chapter Fourteen

  During the run-up to the second Christmas at war, the Blitz on London and the East End lessened, although Manchester and Liverpool suffered considerably from heavy raids. The people of the beleaguered East End began to hope they would be able to enjoy a Christmas without the dreaded air-raid siren spoiling the festivities. And in this their hopes were granted. Christmas Eve saw the beginning of an unofficial truce in the Luftwaffe’s aerial-bombing campaign, and on Christmas Day families sat down in peace to enjoy their dinner of meat or poultry, which they had managed to buy or find from dubious sources, accompanied by vegetables many had grown themselves, and followed by a rare treat of a Christmas pudding made with precious eggs and fruit hoarded for the occasion. Those less fortunate had to make do with puddings made with dried egg and grated carrots, parsnip or mashed potatoes. Yet even these were consumed gratefully in the peaceful lull, a lull that lasted through Boxing Day – and was savagely shattered on 27 December when another major attack on London brought an end to the Christmas peace and left around 600 people dead or injured in its ferocious wake. There followed a quiet weekend, giving the people of the East End a brief respite to catch their breaths before the next onslaught. But it was the City that became the next victim in Hitler’s passionate desire to bring London to its knees. On Sunday evening between six pm and nine thirty pm, the Luftwaffe dropped 127 tons of HE and more than 10,000 incendiary bombs, starting a series of massive fires which threatened to turn the City into one huge conflagration. But while the German bombers could destroy buildings, they couldn’t destroy or dampen London’s fierce spirit for survival.

  When Grace
arrived at the tube station on the Monday morning, she found the station closed. Undaunted, she, along with dozens of others in the same boat, set off on the long walk to the City, all cheerful, all determined to get to work come what may.

  ‘What a bleeding performance, eh?’ The young cockney woman who had accompanied Grace on the hazardous journey grinned cheerfully. ‘I only hope me firm’s still in one piece. I heard the whole of the City got a right pasting last night. Bastard Germans!’

  As they picked their way carefully over piles of rubble that lay in nearly every street, the two women chatted amiably until they came into sight of St Paul’s.

  ‘Well, at least the buggers didn’t get the cathedral, thank Gawd. Anyway, this is were I turn off. Nice meeting you, Grace. Hope your building’s still there – and mine.’ The woman crossed her fingers and gave Grace another reassuring grin before they went their separate ways.