by Joan Jonker
‘Are yer sure?’
‘Nellie, it’s as plain as the nose on yer face.’ Molly put the kettle under the tap and turned the water on. ‘There’s no life in her right arm an’ her mouth is all lopsided.’
Mary appeared in the doorway. ‘What’s wrong with her?’
Molly put a finger to her lips and whispered, ‘Poor old thing’s had a stroke.’
Tears welled up in Mary’s eyes. Miss Clegg had been her neighbour for years and she loved the old lady. ‘Oh, dear God!’ she cried. ‘What’s goin’ to happen to her?’
‘I don’t know until the doctor’s been.’ Molly struck a match under the kettle. ‘But I know what’ll happen to you if yer go in there weepin’ and wailing … I’ll flatten yer! So buck yer ideas up, Mary, an’ when yer go in there an’ tell her yer going to send for the doctor, put a flamin’ smile on yer face. The poor old dear is frightened enough without you lookin’ like death warmed up.’
Mary sniffed and straightened her shoulders. ‘Shall I go to the corner shop an’ ask Maisie to ring for the doctor?’
‘Yes please.’ Molly put her hand on Mary’s arm. ‘I’m sorry, Mary, I didn’t mean to flare up. But I’m worried to death about Miss Clegg an’ if I don’t pick on someone to shout at, I’ll end up bawlin’ me eyes out.’
When Mary had left, Molly went back into the living room, followed closely by Nellie. ‘While we’re waitin’ for the kettle to boil, let’s have a look at yer, sunshine.’ With a smile on her face, Molly put a hand under the old lady’s chin. ‘Not in pain, are yer?’
When Miss Clegg shook her head Molly could feel the saliva, running unchecked from the distorted mouth, falling on to her hand. ‘The doctor won’t be long an’ he’ll soon have yer sorted out.’ She turned her head. ‘Nellie, see if there’s a flannel in the kitchen, will yer? If not, wet the end of a towel so I can clean her face up.’ With a cheerfulness she was far from feeling, she grinned into the stricken face. ‘Got to make yer look glamorous for the doctor comin’, haven’t we?’
Dr Whiteside put the stethoscope to Miss Clegg’s chest and listened for a few seconds. ‘Heartbeat’s a bit fast, but that’s only to be expected.’ He put the instrument in his bag before turning kindly eyes on the old lady. ‘You’ve had a slight stroke, my dear, and it’s affected your right arm and one side of your face.’ When he saw the flicker of fear in the faded grey eyes, he patted her arm. ‘Don’t start worrying yet, it might not be permanent.’ He glanced at Molly, who was hovering by the kitchen door, and held out his hands. ‘Is there anywhere I can wash my hands?’
‘Yes, of course.’ Molly walked ahead of him into the kitchen and made a sign with her eyes for Nellie and Mary to move away from the sink. ‘It’s a bit crowded in here, Doctor.’
‘It’s nice to know the old lady has neighbours who care for her, Molly.’ John Whiteside had pure white hair, striking blue eyes and a healthy pink complexion. He was well past retiring age, but had no intention of putting himself out to pasture. He preferred tending the sick to tending his garden.
‘It’s only a mild stroke, but at her age it’s difficult to say whether she’ll recover fully.’ John shook the excess water from his hands before reaching for the towel Molly was holding out to him. ‘In any case, she’ll have to go into hospital, she can’t do anything for herself the way she is.’
‘Oh dear.’ Molly was remembering when the old lady had fallen off a chair a while back and had had to go into hospital. She could still see the fear in her eyes, and her tearful admission that she was terrified of hospitals. ‘Couldn’t she stay home for a few days … see how it goes? As yer said, Doctor, she could get better. An’ we’d take turns lookin’ after her, wouldn’t we, girls?’
‘Yes!’ Nellie said, while Mary nodded. ‘We do that now anyway. One of us comes every day with a hot dinner for her.’
‘It’s not that simple.’ John handed the towel back. ‘She needs twenty-four-hour care at the moment. She won’t be able to wash or dress herself, go to the toilet without help, or climb the stairs to bed.’
Molly had figured that out. ‘We can bring a bed downstairs. She’s got a single one in the back bedroom … if we move the furniture around we’d easy get it in the livin’ room.’
‘You’d have your work cut out, Molly, what with your own families to see to. Far better let her go into hospital where she’d get round-the-clock care.’
Molly’s heart was thumping. She had this terrible feeling that if Miss Clegg went into hospital she’d never come out again. The old lady was shy and didn’t mix easily, and if she was stuck in a ward with strangers she’d give up on life and just fade away. ‘We could try it for a week, see how it goes. If she doesn’t seem to be improving, or if we find we can’t manage, then we’ll have another think about it.’ She looked to Nellie for support. ‘What d’yer say, Nellie?’
‘I agree with yer, girl! We could get a couple of the other women to help out, they’d jump at the chance.’ Nellie sent her chins swaying in all directions when she nodded her head at the doctor. ‘She’s very popular in this street, yer know.’
John Whiteside lifted his hands in mock surrender. ‘Okay, I give in. I’ll call tomorrow to see how she’s progressing, and if you’ve had a change of heart it won’t be too late to send her to hospital.’
‘We won’t ’ave a change of heart,’ Molly said, her chin jutting out in a gesture of determination. ‘An’ yer’ve no need to worry, Doctor, she’ll be well looked after.’
John grinned as he scratched his head. ‘Still as stubborn as a mule, eh, Molly?’
‘She can bloody well kick like one, too!’ Nellie’s remark was said under her breath, but John heard it as he made his way back to the living room. And when he put his hands either side of Miss Clegg’s chair and gazed down into her face, he was grinning. ‘I was going to suggest a few days in hospital, dear, but your friends have talked me out of it. They’re going to look after you.’ The relief on the lined face told him he’d been wise to listen to Molly. Gently he stroked the wispy white hair. ‘They say that laughter is the best medicine in the world … if it’s true, you should be up and about in no time, because that’s one thing you won’t be short of.’
Chapter Thirteen
Molly was on her knees in front of the fire, brushing up flakes of soot that had fallen from the chimney to blacken the hearth. Her face red with temper and chest heaving, she sat back on her heels to gaze first at Bridie then at Bob. ‘Yer wouldn’t credit it, would yer? It’s me own fault for not gettin’ the chimney swept before we started decoratin’, but I never gave it a thought.’ She set the shovel down carefully before waving her arms around the room. ‘Now everything is going to be ruined … the fire’s belching smoke an’ the soot’s comin’ down in bucketfuls. If it keeps on like this, the walls and ceiling will be filthy in no time. Honest, Ma, I feel like kickin’ meself.’
‘Get the chimney-sweep in as soon as yer can.’ Bridie, sitting next to her husband on the couch, clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth in sympathy. ‘Sure, it would be a shame if all Jack’s work was ruined, so it would.’
‘Get that Jimmy Smith to do it.’ Bob leaned forward. ‘He’s the best chimney-sweep around. He puts a box inside the grate and covers the front up with a piece of wood so all the soot falls into the box, an’ he’s got one of those new-fangled things that sucks up any dirt left in the grate and the hearth. He’s very quick … in and out before yer know it.’
‘I’ll nip around an’ see him when Jack comes in from work. He’s usually home before one o’clock on a Saturday.’ Molly struggled to her feet, holding the shovel steady in her hand. ‘How much does he charge?’
‘It was a shilling last time he did ours, wasn’t it, sweetheart?’
Bridie nodded. ‘An’ worth every penny, so it was. Not a speck of dust anywhere when he’d finished.’
‘I’ll just empty this in the bin.’ Molly made for the kitchen, saying over her shoulder, ‘With a bit of luc
k he might be able to come on Monday.’ When she reappeared, Bridie reminded her, ‘Don’t forget to clean the grate out the night before, lass.’
They heard the key in the door, then Doreen’s laugh rang out, followed by a loud guffaw from Maureen. Molly smiled. ‘What it is to be young, eh, Da? Not a ruddy care in the world.’
‘Sure, isn’t that the way it should be?’ Bridie’s eyes were on the door, eager as always for the sight of one of her beloved grandchildren. ‘An’ weren’t you the same at their age?’
‘Hello, Nan, Granda.’ Doreen was about to put her handbag on the sideboard when she felt her mother’s eyes on her and remembered it wasn’t allowed any more. Winking broadly, she bent to put it on the floor at the side of the couch. ‘Yer nearly had me there, Mam.’
‘Yes, by the flamin’ throat!’
‘Hello, Mrs B.’
Molly returned Maureen’s smile. ‘You two seem happy.’
‘No good havin’ a miserable gob on yer, Mrs B, it turns the milk sour.’
Maureen was completely the opposite to Doreen in looks and colouring, but was just as attractive. Her jet-black hair, cut in a short bob with a thick fringe reaching down to her well-arched eyebrows, framed a round face with rosy cheeks, dark brown eyes, full lips with a generous cupid’s bow, and a set of perfect white teeth. She had a sunny disposition and had been a hit with Molly from the time she’d set eyes on her.
‘I see yer’ve brought yer dancin’ shoes with yer.’ Molly nodded to the parcel tucked under Maureen’s arm. ‘Goin’ out straight from here, are yer?’
‘Yeah, no point in goin’ all that way home.’ Maureen undid the buttons on her coat and opened it wide before doing a twirl. ‘See, I went to work in me glad rags.’
‘Going somewhere special, are yez?’ Bridie asked. ‘Heavy dates?’
‘They’re goin’ to the Grafton tonight,’ Molly explained, ‘but this afternoon they’re going to sit with Miss Clegg for a few hours to give us a break.’
‘That’s what we came round for, really,’ Bob said, ‘to ask after the old lady. Is she improving at all?’
‘Yer know, Da, if they were givin’ out medals for guts, the old dear would be first in line. I wouldn’t have given tuppence for her chances a few days ago, but she’s surprised us all … even the doctor. Her mouth has improved a lot … it’s still a bit lopsided, but Dr Whiteside said if she goes on as she is, it should be back to normal in a week or so. Her right arm is useless, though, that hasn’t improved at all.’ Molly sat down and leaning forward, rested her elbows on her knees. ‘Her speech is slurred, but it certainly doesn’t stop her from making herself understood. Honest, she’s as stubborn as a flamin’ mule. We walk her down the yard, but under no circumstances will she let us go in the lavvy with her. How she manages her knickers an’ things with one arm I’ll never know, but she won’t let us help.’ Molly began to giggle. ‘I was waitin’ in the yard for her yesterday, an’ when she came out of the lavvy her dress was tucked into her knickers at the back. I offered her my arm but she wasn’t having any … said she wasn’t a baby. And as I followed her up the yard all I could see were these blue fleecy-lined bloomers, miles too big for her, reaching down to her garters.’ Molly glanced at her mother. ‘I know yer goin’ to say I shouldn’t be laughin’ at her, Ma, but honest to God, I wasn’t laughin’ at her, I was laughin’ at the situation. There she was, her head held high, too proud to let me help her, and showing her bloomers to the whole wide world.’
Bridie could see the scene in her mind’s eye, and she had to admit it must have been funny. Especially to someone with as keen a sense of humour as her daughter. Nevertheless, a woman of eighty-six deserved more respect. ‘Sure, I hope yer didn’t belittle the old lady. Pride and independence are important when yer get to her age, so they are. Take them away from her and you leave her with nothing to live for.’
‘Thanks for the lecture, Ma, but I really don’t need it. I love that old lady, an’ I wouldn’t hurt her for the world. In fact, I’d strangle anyone who looked sideways at her.’
‘How did yer get around it, Mrs B?’ Maureen’s eyes were bright with interest as she cupped her face in her hands. ‘About the bloomers, I mean.’
‘I gave her a big cuddle, an’ while me arms were around her waist I pulled her dress free.’ Molly, her brows raised, looked at Bridie. ‘Does that satisfy yer, Ma?’
‘I knew yer wouldn’t do anythin’ to hurt her, so I did.’ Bridie smiled that gentle smile that Molly loved so much. ‘Sure, ’tis a big mouth yer have on yer all right, but didn’t the good Lord bless yer with a big heart to go with it?’
‘Now you two have sorted that out,’ said Bob, smiling, ‘why don’t me and yer ma sit with Miss Clegg for a few hours?’
‘No!’ Doreen said quickly, glancing sideways to see Maureen nodding in agreement. ‘We like sitting with her, an’ we promised. We tell her all the things that happen in work, what dances we go to and what dresses we wear. An’ she’s really interested.’
Molly leaned back in the chair, a mischievous glint in her eyes. ‘Talkin’ about dances, Mo, I believe our Doreen clicked with a feller at Barlows Lane on Tuesday.’
‘Ah, ray, Mam!’ Doreen blushed. ‘I didn’t say I clicked … I only had a few dances with the bloke.’
But Maureen was more forthcoming. ‘Ooh, ay, Mrs B, yer should ’ave seen him! A great big hunk of a feller … looks like a film star. He didn’t half fancy your Doreen … danced every dance with ’er.’
‘An’ are you going to Barlows Lane on Tuesday as well?’
Maureen pulled a face. ‘I don’t fancy playin’ gooseberry, but me mate said she’d never speak to me again if I don’t go.’
‘I’ve told yer, I won’t leave yer on yer own.’ Doreen looked daggers at her friend. ‘Anyway, he mightn’t turn up.’
Bridie wore a puzzled expression. ‘Now I don’t want yez thinking I’m a nosy old biddy, but I thought Mike was your boyfriend an’ Sammy was Maureen’s.’
Doreen had had enough. She stood up quickly, almost sending the chair crashing. ‘Mike is not me boyfriend! We’re just mates, aren’t we, Mo?’
Maureen was torn between loyalty to her friend and her liking for Mike. He worked with Sammy in the same part of the factory as the girls and they were both really nice blokes. ‘I don’t think Mike sees it that way.’
‘Then that’s his lookout, isn’t it?’ Doreen’s face spoke volumes. Wait till she got her friend on her own … fancy sticking up for Mike! ‘Come on, let’s go over the road.’
Molly covered her mouth with her hand until she heard the front door slam, then she burst out laughing. ‘I wouldn’t be in Mo’s shoes for a big clock! She’ll be gettin’ a right earful off our Doreen.’
‘I think Maureen’s quite capable of stickin’ up for herself.’ There was a smile on Bob’s face. ‘She’s a girl after me own heart … open and straightforward.’
‘Yeah, she’s a nice kid. I never worry about Doreen when she’s out with Mo, ’cos I think she’s a good influence on her.’
‘An’ I like Mike!’ Bridie intended getting her twopennyworth in. ‘Fine and upstanding … a real broth of a boy, so he is.’
‘Oh, don’t be worryin’, Ma! Doreen’s not sixteen yet, she’ll have dozens of boyfriends before she’s finished.’
‘An’ who should know that better than anyone?’ Bridie asked drily. ‘Sure isn’t it yourself she takes after?’
‘I don’t know how yer do it, Ma, but somehow I always end up getting the blame.’ Molly adopted the Irish accent she’d been hearing all her life. ‘But sure an’ begorrah, me shoulders are broad enough to take it, so they are.’
‘Oh, yer’ve done it!’ Molly looked at the jeweller’s receipt which stated that a two pounds and ten shilling deposit had been paid on a garnet and diamond cluster ring. ‘Half paid for, eh?’ She felt Jack’s arm fall across her shoulder. ‘They’ve done well, haven’t they, love?’
Jack glanced briefly at the
slip of paper before looking into Jill’s smiling face. ‘Yer mam’s right … yer’ve done very well an’ I take me hat off to you both. Yer’ve done without a lot of things to save up that money.’
Steve’s face was one big dimple. ‘Won’t be long now, Mr B, only three months or so.’
‘When is the big day, son?’
Feeling important, Steve squared his shoulders. ‘It’s my birthday on the sixth of May, and Jill’s on the twelfth. So we’re getting engaged on the Saturday in between our birthdays.’ His face creased in a smile, he glanced from his future father-in-law to Molly. ‘That’s if it’s okay with you.’
‘Of course it is!’ As he looked from Steve’s proud, handsome face to the gentle beauty of his daughter’s, Jack felt a veil of sadness envelop him. They were so happy, so much in love, it would devastate them if anything came along to part them.
Jack let his arm fall from Molly’s shoulder. ‘I’m goin’ down for the Echo,’ he said gruffly. ‘They should be in the shops now.’
Molly looked surprised. ‘Let one of the kids go for it.’
Jack shook his head. ‘No, I feel like a breath of fresh air.’
Molly knew her husband’s moods inside out and was quick to recognise that there was something bothering him. Still, she told herself as she heard the front door close after him, it can’t be anything to worry about or he’d have told me as soon as he came in from work.
But if she’d been able to read Jack’s mind as he walked down the street she would have known that his was a worry he wouldn’t burden her with. Not now, anyway, not when she was so happy.
Jack waved to one of the neighbours, pulled the collar of his coat up against the cold wind, and plunged his hands deep into his pockets. If the news bulletins in the papers and on the wireless were anything to go by, war was inevitable. In spite of his words to the contrary, Hitler was continuing to build up his forces … just last week Germany had launched a new battleship, the Bismarck. And if anybody doubted the evil the man was capable of, they only had to look at the way Jews were being treated in Germany. They’d been ordered to hand over all their precious possessions, been uprooted from their jobs and made to work for the Reich, and Gentiles were forbidden even to speak to them! Those who dared to disobey, or spoke out against what was happening, were dragged off to one of the dreaded concentration camps. Jack sighed as he turned the corner of the street. Only a miracle could stop a war, and miracles were in short supply. Britain had been caught with its trousers down, totally unprepared for a war against the massive armies Hitler had built up while the world looked on and did nothing. Now, too late, the Government was spending five hundred and eighty million pounds on defence. If that wasn’t a sign of things to come, then nothing was.
