MB02 - Last Tram To Lime Street

by Joan Jonker

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Jack barely had time to get the key out of the lock and push the door open before Molly was upon him, blocking his entrance. With her face aglow and hopping up and down with excitement, she told him, ‘Monday mornin’ the electric gets switched on … isn’t that the gear?’

  ‘It certainly is!’ Jack was pushing her slowly back along the hall so he could get near the hall stand to hang his cap on one of the hooks. ‘I’ll be able to patch up the wallpaper then, get the room back to normal.’ He sidestepped to try and squeeze past her but she stood firm. ‘Molly, can me an’ Tommy get in, please, we’re both starving! I felt ashamed of meself on the tram, the way me belly was rumbling.’

  ‘Mine too!’ Tommy followed them into the room. ‘I could eat a flippin’ horse.’

  ‘Well, it does me heart good to see yez so thrilled at me news.’ Molly stood with her hands on her hips, shaking her head in disappointment at their lack of enthusiasm. ‘Typical flamin’ men! All yez can think about is yer ruddy tummies! I bet if I told yer a long-lost relative had died and left us a fortune, it wouldn’t raise a flicker of interest! Yer’d still stand there gawpin’, asking “Is me dinner ready?”’

  ‘I wouldn’t, yer know,’ Jack laughed, ‘I’d die of shock! Who do we know that’s got more than two ha’pennies to rub together?’

  ‘Well, if it was a whole lot of money, say a thousand pounds, I’d go without food for a week.’ Tommy’s voice was still in the process of changing from boy to man, and varied from a high squeak to a low growl. ‘But as that’s unlikely, can I ask what we’re havin’ for dinner?’

  ‘What are those things stickin’ out at the end of yer legs?’ Molly asked, pointing to the floor. ‘Those flamin’ big clodhoppers.’

  Looking puzzled, Tommy gazed down the length of his body. ‘Yer mean me feet?’

  ‘Yeah, right in one go! Except a pig was running around on these last week. And d’yer know what? I’m sorry they killed the pig, ’cos it would probably have been more enthusiastic about gettin’ the ’leccy on than you two!’ Just then a deep rumble from Jack’s tummy filled the air and the sound had Molly biting on her bottom lip. The poor beggars must be starving. If she’d had the sense to leave her news until they’d had their dinner, she might have got the reaction she was hoping for. ‘Pigs trotters, with lots of carrots and barley.’

  ‘Mmm!’ Tommy licked his lips while rubbing his hand in circles over his tummy. ‘Let’s be havin’ them, Mam, me mouth’s watering.’

  ‘Where is everyone?’ Jack called as Molly went into the kitchen. ‘I saw our Ruthie playin’ hopscotch in the street with Bella, but where’s the other two?’

  ‘Jill’s upstairs getting changed, an’ our Doreen’s out here fiddling with her hair … as per usual.’ Steam was rising from the plates Molly carried through, her hands protected by a tea towel. ‘She borrowed Mary Watson’s curling tongs, ’cos she reckons they’re better than ours, and she’s heating them on the gas ring. Said she fancies a pageboy bob like Joan Crawford.’

  She pulled out a chair, and curling a strand of hair around her finger, watched father and son dig forks into the meat of the trotters and pull it from the bone. Not that there was ever much meat on a pig’s trotter, but what there was was tasty. ‘Corker an’ Ellen called today, after they’d been to see the solicitor.’

  ‘Oh, aye. How did they get on?’

  ‘Yer know what Ellen’s like, yer’ve more chance of getting blood out of a stone than gettin’ anythin’ out of her. But Corker seemed pleased they’ve got the ball rolling.’ Molly was thoughtful as she watched Tommy gnawing at the bone, grease running down his chin. ‘If I tell yez something, it’s to go no further than these four walls, d’yer hear me, Tommy?’

  ‘I might be daft, Mam, but I’m not Mutt and Jeff!’ Tommy put the bone down and wiped a hand across his chin. ‘An’ I’m not a girl … I’ve got more to do than go around tellin’ tales.’

  ‘Aye, well, just think on,’ Molly warned before telling them about Phil’s visit from Tom Bradley.

  In the kitchen, Doreen pricked her ears. She stood gazing into the spotted mirror she had propped up on the wooden draining board, the curling tongs in her hand forgotten as she strained to hear what was being said. She hadn’t set eyes on Phil since the morning she snubbed him … an action she bitterly regretted. But he was never out of her thoughts, and if she only had the chance, she’d pluck up the courage to tell him how sorry she was. Every morning when she opened the door to go to work, she prayed that his door would open too. She’d gone over in her mind what she would do … give him a smile or a nod, anything to break the ice and encourage him to make a move to patch things up between them. But the opportunity hadn’t come along. He was either leaving early for work or using the back door. The only sight she’d had of him was a shadow through the window of the house opposite.

  She heard her mother saying, ‘Phil’s comin’ over to Ellen’s tonight, an’ Corker’s asked me and Nellie to be there. We’re going to think of some way of scaring the Bradleys off, so Phil won’t have to leave.’

  ‘What time are yer goin’?’ Jack asked. ‘I might come with yer.’

  ‘Not until about nine o’clock, ’cos young Phil works late every night.’

  Doreen put the tongs back on the gas ring, and as she waited for them to heat her mind was ticking over. How could she wangle things so that she was in the street when he crossed to Ellen’s?

  ‘Where are you goin’ tonight, Doreen?’ Molly bawled. ‘Will yer stay in an’ listen for Ruthie?’

  ‘I was goin’ for a walk with Mo … she’ll be here soon.’ Doreen kept her voice steady. This might be just the break she needed, but it wouldn’t do to let her mother know she’d been listening. ‘I’ll see what she says.’

  ‘Aye, well, at the moment I’m just askin’ yer to volunteer,’ Molly yelled back, ‘but if yer refuse then it won’t be a request, it’ll be an order.’

  This was one order Doreen didn’t mind, and one that she wouldn’t disobey.

  ‘I know it’s early, but I’m goin’ up to Ellen’s for a little natter. I’ve been stuck in the house all day, talking to meself, so it’ll do me good to get out for a while.’ Molly ran a comb through her hair before pinching her cheeks to put some colour in them. She never bothered with make-up unless she was going somewhere special. ‘You can follow on when yer’ve finished readin’ the Echo.’

  ‘What about Nellie?’ Jack peered over the top of the paper. ‘Is she callin’ here for yer?’

  ‘No, we arranged to meet in Ellen’s.’ Molly glanced in the mirror and patted the blonde hair that was now liberally sprinkled with grey. ‘I’ll have to get meself a perm one of these fine days.’

  ‘I don’t know why yer don’t mug yerself, yer can’t be that hard up.’

  ‘Jack Bennett, yer haven’t got a bloody clue! Three birthday presents I’ve had to buy in the last three weeks, then on top of that was the engagement party. That cost me a small fortune … I still owe Maisie money for stuff I got on tick!’ Molly huffed with temper. ‘Honest to God, if men had to manage the housekeeping, they wouldn’t know what had hit them! If you think yer can do any better, be my guest an’ take over for a week … see how yer like it.’

  Seeing the look of hurt bewilderment in her husband’s eyes, Molly’s temper died as quickly as it had risen. What was she shouting at him for? All he’d wanted was for her to treat herself to a perm. He never asked for anything for himself, it was always her and the children he thought of. Crossing to his chair, she knelt in front of him. ‘I’m sorry, love, I don’t know what got into me. Must have got out of bed on the wrong side this morning.’ She stroked his cheek with a finger. ‘I love you, Jack Bennett, an’ I wouldn’t swap yer for all the money in the world.’

  But the frown on Jack’s forehead wouldn’t be stroked away. ‘I didn’t know you’d had to get things on tick.’

  ‘Oh, don’t take any notice of me … a few bob, that’
s all I owe Maisie. I can finish it off this week.’ She grinned. ‘Yer know what I’m like for exaggerating.’

  ‘I’ll believe that when I come home one night to find yer’ve had yer hair permed.’

  ‘Okay, boss!’ Molly raised her chin and puckered her lips. ‘Give us a kiss an’ tell me how much yer love me.’

  Jack raised his hand, holding his thumb and forefinger an inch apart. ‘About that much.’

  ‘You skinny beggar!’ Molly made a fist of her hand and shook it in front of his face. ‘How much did yer say?’

  ‘Yer strike a hard bargain, Molly Bennett,’ Jack chuckled as he stretched his arms wide. ‘Does that much satisfy yer?’

  ‘Mmmm, I don’t know.’ Molly wagged her head from side to side. ‘Give us a kiss first, then I’ll tell yer.’

  She gazed into eyes the colour of melted chocolate, and as his lips covered hers, her heart did a double somersault. To think that after twenty years the spark of love and passion was as strong as ever. How well and truly blessed they were.

  A noise caused Molly to break away. ‘Here’s one of the girls.’ Using Jack’s knee as a lever, she pushed herself up. ‘I’ll slip out the back way, love, see yer later.’

  As she walked up the entry, Molly crossed her arms over her tummy and hugged herself. One in a million, her husband was. She really shouldn’t have lied to him about only owing Maisie a few bob when it was more like a few pounds, but he’d have worried if she’d told him the truth. He didn’t like debt, always said if yer couldn’t afford it then do without. He didn’t mind her getting cheques off the club woman, that was only a few bob a week, but he drew the line at anything else. That was why, over the years, she’d never told him when she’d bought anything on the never-never. No point in worrying him … what the eye didn’t see, the heart wouldn’t grieve. And anyway, she had more sense than to get up to her neck in debt.

  Molly dropped the latch on the Clarkes’ door and walked up the yard. After a quick rap, she opened the door, calling, ‘It’s only me, Ellen!’

  It was Corker who answered, his deep voice booming. ‘Come in, Molly me darlin’.’

  Molly stopped on the threshold of the living room. What a difference from this time last year, when the room had been cold and cheerless. The wallpaper had been dirty and torn, the lino ripped and the furniture scuffed and broken. Now the walls and lino were brightly coloured and the furniture, bought from a second-hand shop, was polished until you could see your face in it. And you could feel the warmth, happiness and love in the atmosphere.

  Corker was sitting in a rocking chair with Gordon in his lap, and a book open in his hands. Peter, who considered himself too big to sit on a knee, was standing at the side of the chair, as close as he could get to the gentle giant they all adored. The two girls, Phoebe and Dorothy, sat at the table leaning on their elbows, their eyes wide with wonder. It was obvious to Molly that she’d walked in while Corker was in the middle of telling them a story.

  ‘Go on, Sinbad,’ Peter pleaded, ‘what happened next?’

  ‘Yeah, don’t stop, Sinbad!’ Gordon’s eyes were huge in the thin face. ‘Did the baddie get killed?’

  ‘Hush, now, where’s yer manners?’ Corker chided softly. ‘Can’t you see we’ve got a visitor?’

  Seeing the dismay on the faces of the children, Molly said quickly, ‘Don’t let me interrupt. I’ll just sit here quietly and listen.’

  ‘Ellen will be down soon, she’s just getting changed.’ Corker smiled before lowering his eyes to the book of fairy tales. ‘Where was I now? Oh, yes, the captain of the King’s galleon was waving his cutlass in the air and shouting …’

  Corker’s voice faded as Molly’s mind drifted from the fairy story in the book to the real-life fairy tale that was happening to these children. After years of terror and misery, their lives were only just beginning.

  The first thing Phil noticed when he opened the front door was the sight of Doreen and Mo sitting on the step opposite. It threw him for a while, then he decided it wasn’t worth risking another snub, so he reserved his smile for Doreen’s friend. ‘Hiya, Mo!’

  Maureen waved. ‘Hiya, Phil! Long time no see.’ She gave Doreen a sly dig to remind her that this was her big chance, but Doreen was tongue-tied. She was willing him to look at her so she could give him the smile she’d been rehearsing for the last hour, but his eyes never turned her way. And she was too afraid to call a greeting in case he ignored her.

  ‘I give up.’ Maureen sounded disgusted as Ellen’s door opened and Phil disappeared inside. ‘Why the hell didn’t yer open yer mouth … or even wave? Yer’ve had me sittin’ on this step for nearly an hour, waitin’ for him, an’ what happens when he finally shows? Sweet Fanny Adams, that’s what happens!’

  ‘I couldn’t, Mo! I’d have died of shame if he’d looked through me as though I wasn’t here.’

  ‘Well, you just listen to me, Doreen Bennett! If I was as crazy about a bloke as you are about Phil, I’d have made sure he noticed me. I’d have fainted at his feet, then he couldn’t help but notice me.’

  ‘It’s easy for you to talk, you’re not in my shoes!’ Doreen was so disheartened she was near to tears. ‘If he’d looked at me, I would have smiled or said somethin’.’

  ‘Oh, I give up.’ Maureen scrambled to her feet and brushed the back of her skirt. ‘Let’s go in an’ listen to the wireless … Victor Sylvester and his band are on at half nine.’ She linked her arm through her friend’s. ‘There’s bound to be a next time, kid.’

  ‘An’ I’ll probably mess it up again.’

  ‘Oh, for cryin’ out loud! D’yer know, yer’ve been a right misery-guts for the last few weeks.’ Maureen remembered Ruthie asleep upstairs and kept her voice low as they walked towards the living room. ‘I’ve a good mind to wait for him an’ tell him how yer feel.’

  ‘Don’t you dare!’

  ‘Oh, I dare all right! An’ d’yer know why? ’Cos I’m fed up looking at yer walking around like a wet week … a real string of misery. Even when we go out with Mike an’ Sammy, yer don’t try to look as though yer enjoying yourself. In fact, I don’t know why Mike puts up with yer … yer treat him somethin’ shocking.’

  ‘He doesn’t have to put up with it.’ Doreen’s voice was spirited. ‘He can find another girl for all I care.’

  ‘He’d be doin’ himself a favour if he did. He’s too nice for you to mess around with.’ Maureen glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece and switched the wireless on just as Victor Sylvester’s band began to play ‘Blue Moon’. Her frown disappeared and her pretty face lit up. With her dark bobbed hair swinging, and her slim body swaying from side to side in time with the music, she said dreamily, ‘Ooh, lovely, this is me favourite slow foxtrot.’

  Doreen watched in silence for a while. Her friend was right, she had been a right misery-guts. Because she was unhappy it didn’t mean she had to make her best friend suffer for it. She jumped up and held her arms out. ‘Come on, kid, let’s shake a leg. I’ll be the man.’

  Jill tapped her fingers on the table as she watched her sister combing her hair in front of the mirror while performing the difficult task of eating a piece of toast with no hands. It was the same ritual every morning. No matter how many times she was called, Doreen would stay in bed until the last minute and then have to dash like mad to catch the tram that would get her to work on time. Most mornings she was running out of the door while still struggling into her coat. Rushing around like that would be no good for Jill, she liked to move at a slower pace. Even though she didn’t have to be at the office until nine, she got up at the same time as her sister so she could take things easy. She enjoyed sitting with her mother for a quiet cup of tea and a natter before starting to get ready. ‘How did you get on at the Clarkes’ last night, Mam?’

  Molly sat down heavily and rested her elbows on the table, glad of the chance to sit for a few minutes and calm herself down. It was all go in the mornings … seeing to breakfast and carry-out for Jack and To
mmy, then as soon as they were out of the door she had to start all over again for the girls. By the time she got around to waking Ruthie up, she felt as though she’d done a hard day’s work. In fact, as she often said to Nellie, looking after a family was the toughest job in the world.

  Wiping a hand across her brow, Molly sighed. ‘Unless they show their faces around here, there’s nowt much we can do, ’cos Phil doesn’t know their proper address. All he knows is that they live on one of the new estates in Huyton. So all we can do is spread the word in the street, an’ if they do show up, someone is bound to see them and we’ll all get together and send them packing.’ She happened to catch sight of Doreen’s reflection in the mirror and noted the comb hovering in mid-air as her daughter listened intently to what was being said. She wants her bumps feeling, that one, Molly thought. Does she think we’re so stupid we don’t notice the number of times she goes to the window in the hope of catching sight of Phil? She’s hankering after him but is too flaming proud to hold out an olive branch. It would only take a smile or a wave and he’d be over like a shot. Every time he saw Molly he asked after Doreen, making no secret of the fact that he was smitten with her. The sooner they kissed and made up the better. The whole family were fed up seeing her looking glum and would be glad when the smile was back on her pretty face.

  ‘Hadn’t you better be makin’ tracks, Doreen?’ Molly asked. ‘You’ll miss the tram if yer don’t put a move on.’

  ‘I’m off now.’ Doreen threw her comb into her handbag and made for the door. ‘I’ll see yez tonight … ta-ra.’

  Molly waited until she heard the front door close, then pulled a face. ‘Honest to God, I feel like giving her a good shake! I thought I was stubborn, but she takes the biscuit. She’s eating her heart out but won’t give an inch. An’ he’s such a nice bloke, it’s a crying shame.’

  ‘I wish there was some way we could get them together,’ Jill said. ‘When me and Steve fell out, it was our Doreen who got us back together again. Remember how she tricked us both into going to the Grafton without telling either of us the other one was going?’