by Joan Jonker
‘If anything untoward does happen, will you send word up to the office, Molly?’
‘’Course I will! An’ I’m seein’ Corker tonight, so I’ll tell ’im. We’re all goin’ out for a drink.’ She told him about Jack’s good fortune and was delighted when it brought a smile to his face. ‘So yer see, Mr Henry, life’s not all bad. An’ when we’re all tanked up, singin’ our heads off, I’ll think of yer. Unless I ’ave one over the eight, then I won’t be capable of thinkin’ straight, I’ll be legless.’ Molly stood up. ‘I’m goin’ to chase yer now, otherwise the dinner will be burned to a cinder.’
Jack threw the brown paper bag on to the table in front of Molly. ‘There you are, love.’ His face was wreathed in smiles. ‘There’s sixpence short because the bank charged for changing the cheque.’
Molly was all of a dither as she opened the bag and took out the notes. ‘What’s this?’ She fingered a large white piece of paper. ‘Where’s the money?’
Jack laughed. ‘That is money! There’s five five-pound notes, two one pound, and a ten-bob one.’
‘In the name of God, I’ve never seen one of these in me life!’ Molly held one of the notes nearer to her eyes and read the wording on it. ‘Well, I’ll be blowed! It doesn’t look like money, does it?’
‘I wouldn’t mind a fistful of them, Mam.’ Tommy fingered one of the notes, a look of wonder on his face. ‘Just think, five pound an’ it just looks like a scrap of paper.’
‘Put them back in the bag while I see to the dinner,’ Molly said. ‘I expected yez in before now.’
‘It was further than I thought.’ Jack came back from hanging his coat up. ‘We got a tram to the East Lancs Road, then had to get a bus the rest of the way.’
‘I’ve been keeping yer dinner warm, I hope it’s not dried up.’ Molly made her way to the kitchen. ‘Give Ruthie a shout, will yer, Tommy?’
Jack stood by the kitchen door. ‘Where are the girls?’
‘Jill went out with Steve about half ten.’ With a towel to protect her hands, Molly lifted a plate from the top of a pan of hot water. ‘Move out of the way, love, this is red hot.’ She put the plate on the table before saying, ‘They’ve gone into town, window-shopping. Right now I bet they’ve got their noses pressed against a jeweller’s window, seein’ how much the engagement rings are.’
‘They’re not gettin’ engaged, are they?’ Jack stepped back a pace to let her pass. ‘Nobody’s said anythin’ to me about gettin’ engaged.’
‘They’ve not said anythin’ to me, either, but I’ve a feeling it’s in the wind.’ Molly gave him a peck as she made the return journey to the kitchen. ‘It’s bound to happen sometime, love, ’cos they’re crazy about each other.’
‘Aye, I keep forgettin’ they’re growing up.’ Jack sat down and picked up his knife and fork. ‘What’s this? Lamb chops!’
‘I thought I’d give yez a treat, seein’ as it’s a special day.’ Molly put a hot plate down in front of Tommy. ‘Watch yer hands on that, son, it’s red hot.’
‘Did I hear yer say our Jill’s gettin’ engaged?’ Tommy looked surprised. ‘I’ve not heard anythin’.’
Ruthie stood by the door, her nose still running, a bag of ollies in one hand and a piece of chalk in the other. ‘Ooh, er, is our Jill gettin’ engaged?’
‘Oh, dear God, now it’ll be all over the street!’ Molly screwed her eyes up. All this had developed from one innocent remark. ‘No, she’s not gettin’ engaged! And from this minute we’re goin’ to be like those three monkeys … we see nowt, hear nowt, an’ say nowt, d’yez hear? If I hear one word repeated outside this room, so help me I’ll batter the lot of yez.’
‘It’s my fault, I misunderstood.’ Jack picked the chop up with his fingers and bit into it. ‘Mmm, this is lovely.’
‘Holy sufferin’ ducks, I forgot the mint sauce!’ Molly dashed out to return with a small glass jug. ‘First time we’ve ’ad lamb for donkey’s years an’ I almost forgot the best part.’
‘Where’s our Doreen, Mam?’ Tommy asked. ‘She’s usually home by now.’
‘She’s gone to Blackler’s with Maureen to buy some material.’ Molly poured the sauce liberally over her dinner before passing the jug to Jack. ‘She’s stayin’ in tonight while me an’ yer dad go for a drink, so Maureen’s comin’ back with her an’ they’re goin’ to spend the night cutting a dress pattern out.’
Doreen worked in the sewing room at Johnson’s dye works and she made up for the low wages by making her own clothes. She was good at it, too, there was nothing she couldn’t turn her hand to. She made all Molly’s and Ruthie’s clothes as well, and earned herself a couple of bob sewing for the neighbours.
‘Jill and Steve going in next door tonight?’ Jack asked, gravy running down his chin. He was turning the chop in his fingers to see if he’d missed any of the succulent meat.
Molly nodded. ‘They don’t mind, in fact I think they enjoy it. And Ellen said Phoebe and Dorothy are over the moon, they love it when their mam goes out and Jill and Steve sit with them.’
Tommy patted his full tummy and heaved a sigh of pleasure as he pushed his plate away. ‘That was lovely, Mam, I really enjoyed it.’
‘Can’t beat a lamb chop,’ Molly agreed. ‘Even the bones are sweet.’
‘Can I get washed in the kitchen before yer start on the dishes?’ Tommy coaxed. ‘I told Ginger I’d call for ’im at three o’clock an’ I’m late now.’
‘Okay, but don’t make a mess ’cos I’ve scrubbed that place from top to bottom.’ Molly leaned her elbows on the table and watched Ruthie lift her plate to her mouth to lick the remains of the gravy. ‘It’s bad manners to do that, sunshine, but I’ll let yer off this once, seeing as it’s a special day.’
Ruthie lowered the plate to the table, her small tongue running over her lips. ‘Can I go out an’ play, Mam?’
‘Rinse yer mouth first, yer look a sight.’ Molly smiled across at Jack when she heard her daughter shouting at Tommy because he wouldn’t let her get to the sink. ‘Brotherly love.’
Ruthie was back in a flash to stand beside her mother, her hand held out palm upwards. ‘Yer promised me a penny, Mam.’
‘So I did, sunshine.’ Molly delved into the pocket of her pinny. ‘Here yer are, but don’t be mean, share it with Bella.’ She grabbed her daughter’s arm as the girl turned away. ‘Let’s see yer face.’
‘I couldn’t wash it proper ’cos our Tommy wouldn’t let me in the sink.’ Ruthie scowled. ‘I wiped it on the towel.’
‘Oh, go on with yer.’ Molly patted her bottom. ‘Yer’ll be as black as the hobs of hell in five minutes, anyway.’
When they were alone, Molly reached for the paper bag. ‘I’ll ’ave to ask Maisie if she’ll change one of these five-pound notes for me, so as I can give the kids the money I promised them.’ She handed the two one-pound notes to Jack. ‘You take these, love, ’cos yer’ll have to buy a few rounds tonight, mug them all.’
‘I won’t need that much, love, one will do.’
‘Not on yer life!’ Molly was determined. ‘There’ll be eight of us, an’ I’m not havin’ yer sittin’ there countin’ yer coppers, not after winning all this money.’
Jack put the notes behind the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘You’ll have none left, the way you’re goin’ on.’
‘I might be cabbage-lookin’, Jack, but I’m not green.’ Molly left one of the white notes on the arm of the couch then carefully folded the bag and pushed it under one of the cushions. ‘I’ve got it all worked out to the penny. After I’ve seen to the kids, I’ll have twenty-two pound left. The odd two will buy wallpaper and paint, the rest is for furniture.’
‘I don’t care what yer do with it, love, as long as it makes yer happy.’ Jack knew that the money he and the children turned over every week was enough to pay the weekly bills and keep them, but there was never any over for luxuries. Now Molly could go out and buy what she wanted without worrying about having to go short on something else. ‘T
hat’s all I want from life, love, to see you happy.’
‘Jack, I’m over the moon with the money. Delighted, delirious, ecstatic, even! But if yer asked me what made me the happiest, the money or me family, then me family would come first any time.’ Molly rose to cup his face in her hands. ‘I love every hair on yer heads.’
Jack raised his brows, a grin on his face. ‘We’ve got the house to ourselves, how about goin’ upstairs for half an hour?’
‘Yer can sod off, Jack Bennett!’ Molly’s laugh filled the room. ‘Right now I’m off to Maisie’s to swank, an’ change the first five-pound note I’ve ever ’ad in me life. Then I’m nipping over to Miss Clegg’s for five minutes, see ’ow she is. I’ve neglected her for the last few months with me da being ill, left it to Nellie an’ Mary to look after her, but I’ll make it up to her.’
Molly picked up the note and folded it as she walked to the door. Then she turned, a twinkle in her eyes. ‘Yer know what I’m like after a few drinks, love, so try yer hand tonight, I think yer might just be lucky.’
Chapter Seven
‘There’s two tables over there, in the corner. Pull them together an’ we’ll all get around them.’ With her hand in the small of Jack’s back, Molly pushed him forward. ‘Quick, before someone else beats us to it.’
‘Da, you sit here in the corner with Ma, save you getting yer head knocked off every time someone passes.’ Jack helped Bob and Bridie to their seats. ‘In half an hour’s time yer won’t be able to breathe in here.’
‘I’ll sit next to me da.’ Molly plonked herself down. It was the first time Bob had been out at night since he’d come home from hospital and Molly intended to keep an eye on him. ‘The rest of yez can fend for yerselves.’
‘I’ll bag one of the stools so me backside can hang over the sides.’ Nellie patted an empty chair at the side of her. ‘Come on, George, sit by yer ever-loving wife.’
After making sure Ellen was comfortable, Corker stood beside Jack. ‘Now, what’ll it be?’
‘This is my round, Corker, but yer can give me a hand with the drinks,’ Jack said, feeling very rich with two pounds in his pockets. ‘Is it sherry for the ladies and pints of bitter for the men?’
‘Just a glass for me, son,’ Bob said. ‘I don’t want to overdo it.’
The pub got busier and noisier as the night wore on. A group of regulars who’d been drinking heavily started singing, and a few of the other customers joined in. But they were all waiting for the star turn, who was standing by the bar slowly sipping pints. He was an insignificant little man, as thin as a rake, with a sickly complexion, a receding hairline and most of his front teeth long gone. But Joe Pinnington had been blessed with a rare gift, a voice that was so rich and powerful people came from miles around to hear him. He brought so much custom to the pub that the landlord kept him supplied with free beer. He had a routine, did Joe, and no amount of coaxing would shift him from it. Two pints before he started, then one always at hand to wet his whistle. He lived a dull, monotonous life for six days of the week, but on a Saturday night he was a star.
Joe downed the last of his pint and moved away from the bar, leaving the counter free for those wishing to buy drinks. As he took up his regular position a silence descended, and the lounge was suddenly filled to overflowing as customers from the snug brought their drinks through. After clearing his throat, Joe began to sing, and even those who heard him every week were thrilled by the richness of his voice. ‘“She’s my lady love, she is my love, my turtle dove.”’
Molly saw her father take his wife’s hand, and she smiled when she heard him say, ‘One of our favourites, sweetheart.’
Soon the rafters were ringing to the tune of ‘Lily of Lagoona’, followed by ‘My Wild Irish Rose’ and other well-known favourites. Joe would sing the songs first, before inviting everyone to join in. Not that anyone needed any encouragment: this was what they’d all come for.
Molly kept a close watch on her father, worried that the noise and excitement might be too much for him. He’d been firm in his refusal to have more than two half-pints of bitter, saying he didn’t need drink to enjoy himself. And his pleasure was evident on his face as he sang along with Bridie, her hand held fast in his. Like two lovebirds, Molly thought before transferring her gaze to Corker, whose arm was draped casually around Ellen’s shoulders as he sang at the top of his voice.
Then came a ten-minute interval, time for Joe to oil his parched throat and for the customers to get their drinks in.
‘He should be on the stage, that feller,’ Nellie said, her chins moving in different directions. ‘He’s as good as any I’ve heard.’
‘Bob, I think yer’ve had enough for one night.’ Bridie squeezed her husband’s hand. ‘Let’s away now while we’ve got the chance. I’d not like to walk out when the man’s singing, it wouldn’t be polite.’
Molly butted in when she saw her father was about to protest. ‘Me ma’s right, Da, I think yer should call it a day.’
Reluctantly, Bob nodded. ‘I suppose you’re right.’
‘I’ll walk you home,’ Jack said. ‘It’ll only take me a quarter of an hour to get there and back.’ After giving them time to say their farewells, he pushed a way through the crowd, Bob and Bridie following in his wake.
They’d not been gone long when a voice from the other end of the room shouted, ‘Come on, Joe, on yer feet! Give us one of Al Jolson’s.’
Joe took a swig of beer, wiped a hand across his lips, then started. ‘“Mammy, Mammy, the sun shines east, the sun shines west.”’
‘Oh, God, I don’t ’alf love this one.’ Nellie, with four glasses of sherry inside her, put her hands on the table and pushed herself up. Ignoring George’s pleas, and pushing his hand away, she opened her mouth and let rip. It wouldn’t be fair to say Nellie was tone deaf, but her singing caused Joe to change key several times to try and keep in tune with her. It was an impossible task, but Nellie was so well known and liked in the area he did his best, while the customers clapped their hands and egged her on.
‘That’s right, girl, you let ’em have it,’ Corker roared, singing along with them. Even Ellen, usually so quiet, was laughing as Nellie’s face performed contortions and her hands followed Joe’s actions.
George looked at his wife, her mouth wide open, her hands waving, and dropped his head in his hands. ‘Don’t let on she’s with me.’
‘Oh, come on, George,’ Molly laughed. ‘She’s enjoyin’ herself an’ makin’ everyone happy. As me ma would say, sure, wouldn’t the world be a better place if everyone was as cheerful as Nellie?’
‘I’m only jokin’, Molly.’ George winked before looking through his fingers at his wife. The song was coming to an end now and Nellie was punching her fist in the air as she belted out, ‘“I’d walk a million miles, for one of yer smiles, my Mam-mam-ammeee!”’
‘More!’ shouted the crowd, clapping wildly. ‘Encore!’
With a wide sweep of her hand, Nellie gave an exaggerated bow. ‘Ladies and gentlemen …’ She was stopped in mid-sentence when George, to hoots of laughter from the crowd, reached over and pulled her unceremoniously back to her stool. ‘What the … !’
‘You’re cramping Joe’s style,’ George growled, handing over her glass of sherry. ‘Drink that an’ stay put.’
The look of amazement on Nellie’s chubby face had Molly, Corker and Ellen doubled up. Then the big woman’s humour surfaced and she played along, pretending she was the worse for drink. ‘What, hic, did yer, hic, say, love?’ She downed her drink in one go and, swaying slightly, held the glass out to George. ‘Yes, hic, I will ’ave another, hic, drink. It’s hic, kind of yer, hic, to ask.’
Molly was wiping her eyes when she saw Jack pushing his way through the crowd. ‘You’ve been quick, love! Oh, yer should ’ave been here five minutes ago, yer’d have died laughin’.’
‘I left Ma an’ Da at their door.’ Jack’s face looked troubled. ‘There’s fightin’ going on at the top of our street and
I thought, with yer mother bein’ on her own, Corker, perhaps yer should go home.’
Corker leaned forward. ‘Who’s fightin’?’
‘The whole flamin’ street is out, but I didn’t stay to find out what was goin’ on ’cos I thought it best to get back here quick and let you know. I could hear shoutin’ and screamin’, and there’s dozens of people out, but it was too dark to see clearly who they were.’
‘I better get home.’ Corker nearly knocked the table over in his haste. ‘If anyone’s frightened me ma, I’ll strangle them.’
‘You run on, Corker.’ Molly slipped her arms into her coat. ‘We’ll be right behind you.’
‘I bet it’s that Bradley family,’ Nellie said, scowling. ‘We’ve had the odd row in the street before now, but never fightin’.’
Jack and George chased after Corker, leaving Ellen and Molly to each take one of Nellie’s arms to help her move faster. They could hear the shouting and screaming from the bottom of the street and it increased in volume as they drew nearer. ‘In the name of God, it sounds as though they’re killing each other.’ Molly remembered that Tommy’s friend, Ginger, lived at the top and she felt a stab of fear as she prayed her son wasn’t involved.
‘Look, Corker’s got hold of someone.’ Ellen let go of Nellie’s arm. From the dim light given out by the street gas lamps, she could see Corker trying to restrain a man who was shouting and waving his arms about.
‘We’ve had nowt but trouble since you lot moved in,’ the man screamed, ‘but yer’ll not get away with stealin’ my son’s bike. I want that bike back or I’ll break yer bloody neck for yer.’
‘That’s Barney Coleman.’ Molly’s voice was high with surprise. ‘I’ve never seen ’im like this before.’
