by Joan Jonker
Jack pushed open the door of the newsagent’s and was hit by the warmth inside the busy shop. ‘The Echo, please, Joe.’
‘Don’t usually see you on a Saturday, Jack.’ Joe Quinn folded the paper and passed it over. ‘Had a fight with the missus, ’ave yer?’
‘Yeah.’ Jack put a sixpence into the outstretched hand. ‘The rolling pin missed me by inches.’ His eyes lit on the glass cabinet filled with a selection of sweets. ‘Give us a tuppenny slab of Cadbury’s an’ a quarter of Dolly Mixtures.’
Joe Quinn chuckled as he stretched to reach the glass bottle on the shelf behind him. ‘That should put the rolling pin back in the drawer.’ He kept his eye on the scales as he measured the coloured sweets. ‘Why God invented women I’ll never understand … they’re nowt but a load of trouble.’
Mrs Quinn finished serving her customer then walked down the length of the counter. ‘What did you say, Joe Quinn?’
‘Who, me?’ Joe feigned surprise. ‘Why, I was just sayin’ what a blessing women are. Don’t know what we’d do without them.’ He tipped the sweets into a small paper bag and handed them across the counter, a smile on his face. ‘That’s right, isn’t it, Jack? An’ didn’t I say you an’ I had two of the best?’
‘Something like that.’ Jack grinned as he dropped the sweets into his pocket. ‘They weren’t the exact words, but they were near enough.’
‘Will yer do us a favour when yer get home, Jack?’ Olive Quinn leaned on the counter and turned her head from her husband so he couldn’t see her wink. ‘Send one of the kids down with Molly’s rolling pin, will yer? See if it’ll have the same effect on my feller as it’s had on you.’
Jack was laughing as he left the shop. He rolled the Echo up, put it under his arm and strode purposefully up the street. He’d take a leaf out of Molly’s book, that was what he’d do. If she could fill her mind with the happy things in life, like Jill and Steve getting engaged, then he’d do the same. After all, worrying wasn’t going to help … it wouldn’t alter the course of events.
Jack closed the door behind him and shouted down the hall, ‘Get off yer backside, missus, an’ put the kettle on. It’s freezing out.’
Molly was standing stiffly to attention when he entered the room, her open hand at the side of her forehead in a salute. ‘Aye, aye, sir! Would yer like anything else, sir?’
Jack glanced at Ruthie before meeting his wife’s eyes. ‘Yes, I would! But I’ll wait until we’re,’ he pointed a finger to the ceiling, ‘you know where.’
‘Jack Bennett, yer’ve got a one-track mind.’
‘Does that mean I’m not on?’
‘Er, let me see now.’ Molly closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose as though considering. Then she smiled. ‘I think yer in with a chance.’
Jack bent to give Ruthie her bag of sweets, then wafted the slab of Cadbury’s under Molly’s nose. ‘Shall I give yer this now, or keep it until later to bribe yer with?’
‘Give us it now.’ Molly snatched the chocolate and tore at the silver paper. ‘There’s two things I can’t resist … you and chocolate.’ She broke off a square and handed it to him. ‘It’s a good job the others aren’t here to hear yer talking like that.’
‘Where’ve they all vanished to?’
‘God alone knows where Tommy is, I haven’t seen him since dinnertime.’ Molly sucked on the chocolate, a look of bliss on her face. ‘Jill and Steve have gone up to Nellie’s, and Doreen and Mo are upstairs gettin’ dolled up.’
Jack put his arms around her waist and held her tight. ‘Give us a kiss.’
His lips lingering on hers, Molly could feel her body responding and sighed as she pushed him away. ‘Patience, my love, patience.’
Jack kept his voice to a whisper. ‘Let’s have an early night in bed, eh?’
‘I’ll think about it.’ Molly closed her eyes briefly before whispering, ‘After due consideration, will eight o’clock suit yer?’
Ruthie looked up with a frown on her face. She couldn’t understand grown-ups, they could be awful daft sometimes. Just look at the way her mam and dad were giggling now. Nothing funny had happened, no one had told a joke, so what was there to laugh at?
Ruthie sighed and went back to her picture book. No, she’d never understand grown-ups.
Molly and Jack broke apart when they heard the two girls clattering down the stairs. Flushed with embarrassment, Molly moved to stand behind Ruthie’s chair, patting her hair back into place with one hand while smoothing the front of her dress with the other. ‘You two make enough noise to wake the dead.’
‘Mam, d’yer like me hair?’ Doreen’s hair had been parted down the middle and braided tightly into two plaits which hung each side of her face, tied at the ends with bows of blue ribbon. ‘D’yer think it suits me?’
‘No, I don’t!’ Molly was quick to give her opinion. ‘It makes yer face look too thin.’
Doreen rolled her eyes before seeking support from her father. ‘What about you, Dad?’
‘I agree with yer mam, love, I think the style is too severe for yer.’ Jack noticed the disappointment in the blue eyes and, forever the appeaser, added softly, ‘Yer’ve got beautiful hair, love, why tie it up? Many a girl would give her eye-teeth for a head of hair like yours.’
‘I told yer that, didn’t I?’ Maureen pursed her lips. ‘But no, yer wouldn’t have it.’
Mollified by her father’s praise, Doreen grinned at her friend. ‘I thought yer were only sayin’ it ’cos yer didn’t want me to look nice and attract all the fellers.’
‘If that was the case, I’d have said nothin’ and let yer go out looking like somethin’ the cat had dragged in.’ Maureen jerked her head at Molly. ‘I wouldn’t say yer daughter was big-headed, Mrs B, but have yer ever noticed she has trouble getting through the door?’
Molly chuckled. Her da was right, Maureen was quite capable of sticking up for herself. ‘Come here, Doreen, an’ let me undo those flamin’ plaits. Yer look like a country bumpkin … all yer need is a piece of straw stickin’ out of yer ears.’ She was halfway through unwinding one of the plaits when there was a loud rap on the door. ‘Oh, dear, who can this be?’
‘I’ll go, Mrs B.’ Maureen skipped along the hall, singing, ‘“I don’t want to set the world on fire.”’
‘I should bloody well hope not!’ Nellie grinned into Maureen’s face as she brushed past. ‘I know it’s cold, but settin’ the whole ruddy world on fire is goin’ a bit too far.’ She waddled down the hall singing at the top of her voice, ‘“It’s only me from over the sea, said Barnacle Bill the sailor.”’
Nellie’s bosom entered the room seconds before the rest of her. ‘Good evening, playmates!’
Keeping her face straight, Molly glanced at Jack. ‘Is that Arthur Askey, or that nosy neighbour of ours?’
‘Oh, that’s charming, that is.’ Nellie stood inside the door, her hands on her hips. ‘An’ from someone who’s supposed to be me best mate.’ She dropped her head and began to sob. ‘I’d best be off, then. I don’t need the house to fall on me to know when I’m not wanted.’
Ruthie was off her chair like a shot. ‘Don’t cry, Auntie Nellie.’ She put her arms around her favourite auntie’s waist and pressed her face into the soft, cushiony tummy. ‘Me mam didn’t mean it, did yer, Mam?’
Oh God, she’s taken me seriously! Molly rushed to sweep the child into her arms. ‘Of course I didn’t mean it, silly! Isn’t Nellie me best friend in the whole wide world?’
‘Then yer shouldn’t ’ave said it.’ Ruthie glared, her brow furrowed. ‘Look what yer’ve done, yer’ve made her cry.’
‘She’s only pretending.’ Molly spun around so her daughter could see over her shoulder, ‘See, she’s laughing her head off.’
Ruthie wriggled free and slid to the floor. Wagging a tiny finger, she said, ‘Yer were teasin’, Auntie Nellie, an’ that’s naughty.’
‘I know, I’m very naughty.’ Nellie bent down and pushed a finger into one of h
er chubby cheeks. ‘Here yer are, sweetheart, give Auntie Nellie a smack … right there.’
Ruthie clasped her hands behind her back, giggling. ‘Oh, you are funny, Auntie Nellie.’
Doreen glanced at the clock for the umpteenth time, her patience wearing thin. ‘Mam, will yer stop actin’ the goat an’ finish me hair? It’ll be time to come home before we get there!’
‘Sit yerself down, Nellie, while I sort this one out.’ Molly went to work on the plaits and soon Doreen’s hair was once again hanging loose about her shoulders. ‘Just run a comb through an’ yer can titivate yerself up properly when yer get there.’
Doreen dashed from the room, and as she took the stairs two at a time she shouted down, ‘Get yer coat on, Mo, I’ll only be two shakes of a lamb’s tail.’
Molly shook her head as she sat down. ‘Yer’d think it was a matter of life and death, wouldn’t yer?’
‘Oh, it is, Mrs B.’ Maureen slipped her arms into her coat. ‘Just think how awful it would be if we missed the Spot Waltz.’
When Doreen came down she had her coat on and her dance shoes tucked under her arm. ‘See yez later, folks.’
‘Don’t you be late, mind!’ Molly lifted a warning finger. ‘Half ten an’ no later.’
Doreen waited until she had the front door open before answering, ‘Mam, every time I go out yer say the same thing! Yer like a flippin’ gramophone record that got stuck.’
Molly opened her mouth to reply, but closed it when she heard the door slam. ‘She’s a cheeky little faggot, that one.’
‘Mine are just the same,’ Nellie said, ‘they think they know it all.’
‘They probably do, too! Girls are much more advanced than we were at their age.’ Molly pulled Ruthie towards her. ‘Come on, sunshine, let’s get you ready for bed.’
‘Ah, Mam, let me stay up for another ten minutes, please?’
‘No, it’s way past your bedtime.’ Molly’s grip tightened on the struggling child. ‘Behave yerself or I’ll box yer ears for yer.’
‘It’s not fair.’ Ruthie stamped her feet in temper. ‘I don’t ’ave to go to school tomorrer.’
‘Yer can argue till yer blue in the face, sunshine, but yer still going to bed.’ Molly pulled her daughter’s dress over her head and threw it on the floor ready for the wash tub. ‘Jack, pass that nightie off the maiden, will yer?’
Ruthie calmed down when she felt the warmth of the nightie on her body. She had the sense to know that when her mam used that tone of voice she meant business. ‘Can I take the rest of me sweeties to bed with me?’
‘I suppose so.’ Molly cupped the pixie-like face between her hands. ‘Yer can be a little demon at times, but I love the bones of yer.’
‘I’ll take her up,’ Jack said, reaching for his daughter’s hand. ‘I’ll light a candle and read her a story so you an’ Nellie can natter in peace.’
‘I didn’t come for a natter.’ Nellie wiped a hand across her forehead which was glistening with perspiration. Pushing her chair back from the fire, she said, ‘I came to ask Molly if she felt like comin’ to the Gainsborough with us. I heard it was a good picture … Spencer Tracy an’ Pat O’Brien are in it.’
Jack stopped by the door and turned to Molly. ‘It’s up to you, love,’ he said gruffly, ‘if yer want to go.’
‘No, I couldn’t be bothered makin’ the effort.’ Molly’s eyes sent him a message. ‘Go on, take Ruthie up.’
‘Ah, come on, girl,’ Nellie coaxed. ‘Yer don’t ’ave to get dolled up, no one will see yer. Just put yer coat on an’ come as yer are.’
Molly waited for Jack’s footsteps to fade before answering. ‘We’d promised ourselves an early night, Nellie. Every night this week Jack’s worked overtime and he’s worn out.’
‘There’s nothin’ to stop Jack goin’ to bed on his own, is there?’ Nellie looked hard at her friend, then slowly her cheeks moved upwards into a grin. Her eyes almost lost in the folds of flesh, she leaned forward and gave Molly a dig in the ribs. ‘Oh, I get it … he’s on a promise, is he?’
‘Nellie McDonough, yer’ve got a mind like a muck midden.’ But try as she might, Molly couldn’t stop the colour rising from her neck to cover her face. ‘It’s a good job Jack’s not here … yer’d make a saint blush, you would.’
‘An’ you ain’t no saint.’ Nellie rocked with laughter. ‘Yer should see yer face … guilt written all over it.’
‘Honest to God, Nellie, I don’t know what I’m goin’ to do with you.’ Molly could never hold out against her friend’s humour, and her slow smile soon developed into a roar of laughter. ‘What the hell am I feeling guilty for? All right, clever clogs, so Jack’s on a promise! But we are married, yer know … there’s no law against it.’
‘Did I say there was?’ Nellie’s face was a picture of innocence. ‘No, girl, my motto is get all the pleasure out of life that yer can.’
Molly knew her friend too well to be fooled by the angelic look on her face. ‘One word out of you when Jack comes down, and so help me I’ll strangle yer. D’yer hear me, Helen Theresa McDonough?’
‘Oh, I’m not waitin’ for Jack to come down.’ Nellie shuffled to the edge of the chair. ‘I’m goin’ home to see if I can get my feller in the mood.’ She stood up and began to button her coat. ‘When yer come to think of it, it’s as good as goin’ to the pictures. Yer can have a laugh, get yerself all het up, and yer not kept in suspense ’cos yer know there’ll be a happy ending. Besides all that, it doesn’t cost yer anythin’ … only energy.’ She was chuckling as she made her way to the door. At the bottom of the stairs she stopped and looked up. ‘Will Ruthie be asleep by now?’
Molly shook her head. ‘Probably halfway through “The Three Bears” or “Little Red Riding Hood”.’
The temptation was too much for Nellie. ‘Molly tells me yez are havin’ an early night, Jack,’ she bawled. ‘Enjoy yerselves.’
Molly gave her a none-too-gentle push. ‘On yer way, Nellie McDonough, before I die of shame.’
‘There’s no shame in cuddlin’ up to yer own husband in bed.’ Nellie opened the door and stepped into the street. ‘Besides, what a lovely way to die … with a smile on yer face.’
Mike was holding Doreen’s hand as they walked from the dance floor. ‘It’s packed here tonight, yer can hardly move.’
‘I know.’ Doreen pulled a face. ‘Yer frightened to let yerself go in case yer bump into someone.’ She pulled her hand free as they reached the corner where Maureen and Sammy were standing. ‘You two soon got fed up.’
‘There’s no pleasure in shuffling around,’ Maureen said, ‘an’ that’s all yer can do. I know what a sardine feels like now.’
Sammy pushed a wayward lock of sandy hair from his eyes. ‘I was just sayin’ to Mo, why don’t me an’ Mike come to Barlows Lane with yez on Tuesday?’
Doreen’s jaw dropped. ‘Oh, no, yer can’t!’ She saw the surprised expressions on the boys’ faces and floundered. For the life of her she couldn’t think of an excuse to put them off. But if Mike came along, and tagged on to her all night, Phil would steer clear. ‘We, er, we don’t even know whether we’re goin’ ourselves yet, do we, Mo?’
Maureen glanced at Mike before answering. He was a nice bloke and she was very fond of him. He wasn’t what you’d call handsome, he was too tall and thin for that, but he was kind and considerate. Anyway, looks weren’t everything … as her mam always said, ‘handsome is as handsome does’. ‘No, we haven’t made our minds up yet,’ she said finally, glaring at Doreen. What a cheek she’s got, expecting me to tell lies for her! Just wait until we’re on our own, she won’t half get a piece of my mind. I’ll tell her straight it wasn’t her I was thinking about, but Mike. I don’t want to see him hurt or made a fool of, he’s too nice. ‘It all depends upon whether we’ve got any money … we might be skint an’ happy by Tuesday.’
Mike took Doreen’s hand. ‘We’ll pay for yez.’
‘No!’ Doreen said quickly. ‘When we started goin’
out as a foursome we all agreed we’d go Dutch. You don’t earn enough to be forkin’ out for me, so if I haven’t got the money to go to Barlows Lane then it’s just too bad.’
‘You will tell us if yer goin’, though, won’t yer?’
‘Yes, of course we will.’ Doreen was so relieved she smiled up into his face. ‘Shall we dance?’
Sammy had been taking it all in, and although he said nothing, he thought plenty. He watched them walk to the dance floor, then turned to Maureen. ‘Unless I’m very much mistaken, she’s lying through her teeth.’ He quirked an eyebrow, ‘Am I right or wrong?’
Maureen shrugged her shoulders. ‘Leave me out of it, Sammy. If yer want to know, ask her yerself.’
‘I might do better than that,’ Sammy said, mysteriously. Then he grinned and held out his arms. ‘Come on, kid, let’s show ’em how it’s done.’
Chapter Fourteen
‘Oh my gawd!’ Molly jumped from her chair when she saw the visitors Jack had just let in. Ellen was standing in the doorway, with Corker towering behind her. Throwing her neighbour a dirty look, she quickly gathered up Ruthie’s cast-off clothing from the couch. ‘Yer might have told me when yer called in from work that Corker was home.’
‘I didn’t know meself until half an hour ago.’ Ellen felt a hand in her back propelling her into the room. ‘He caught me on the hop, too!’
