by Joan Jonker
‘I’ll tell yer what, Dolly, they don’t half get their money’s worth out of yer,’ Ada said as she sat facing her neighbour across the table. ‘Talk about slave labour! From the time yer clock in it’s all go, non-stop.’ She slipped her shoes off and wiggled her toes. ‘Me flamin’ feet are talkin’ to me.’
Dolly pulled a face and held her nose between her finger and thumb. ‘God strewth, Ada, is that your sweaty feet, or has me milk turned sour?’
Ada grinned. ‘One thing I don’t have is sweaty feet, Dolly. Me body, yeah, I get in a right lather at work, but not me feet.’
‘I don’t sweat much, either.’ Dolly pulled the neck of her dress forward and looked down. ‘Sometimes I do a bit, in the valley between me breasts, but it’s only the sweet smell of me fine soft skin. My feller wallows in that smell every night, says it does him more good than a pint of bitter.’ She leaned her arms on the table and her face became serious as she pinched at the flesh on her elbow. ‘Pay day today, eh?’
‘Yeah, I got me second pay packet. I didn’t get paid the first week ’cos yer have to work a week in hand.’ Ada had told Dolly everything in the strictest confidence, and true to her word her neighbour hadn’t repeated it to a soul, not even her husband. ‘If I can put as much away this week out of the housekeepin’ as I did last, I’ll have thirty bob saved up.’
‘Yer’ve done wonders, girl, an’ I take me hat off to yer. At least I would if I ’ad a hat, which I ’aven’t.’ A smile played around the corners of Dolly’s mouth. ‘An’ it’s a pity, that, ’cos I really look lovely in a hat. I can wear any style, they all look good on me. Mind you, with my looks I could wear a tea cosy on me head an’ still look glamorous.’
‘Can’t you ever be serious for long, Dolly? I don’t know how yer can be so lively all the time.’
‘Oh, I can be serious, girl, when I want to. I mean, if I was to dwell on how little I’ve got in me purse right now, I’d sit down an’ cry me eyes out. But doin’ that wouldn’t put any money in me purse, would it, so what’s the flamin’ use?’
‘I can lend yer a few bob if yer like, Dolly,’ Ada said. ‘I’d have to have it back in a few weeks ’cos Tommy’s goin’ to see the doctor next Saturday an’ I think he’ll send him to the hospital right away.’
‘No, I wouldn’t dream of borrowin’ yer hard-earned money, girl, but I appreciate yer offer.’
‘Don’t be daft!’ Ada huffed. ‘How many times have you helped me out when I’ve been skint? Loads of times.’
‘I’ll be all right, girl, so don’t be worryin’ yer head about me. My feller’s gone to get some rags weighed in, he’ll be bringin’ a few bob home soon, so we won’t starve.’
‘It’s our Polly’s birthday today, she’s twelve. Her an’ Joey have been invited over to Irish Mary’s for tea.’
‘I know it’s your Polly’s birthday. How could I forget it, with our Steve pesterin’ the life out of me for a penny for a birthday card for her! He even talked me into lettin’ him get one for me to give to her … me who’s never sent a ruddy card in me life! I must be gettin’ soft in me old age.’
‘Dolly, yer neither old nor soft. Just a warm-hearted, generous woman who I’m glad to call me best mate.’
‘God bless yer little cotton socks, girl, it’s not often anyone pays me compliments.’ A wicked glint in her eye, Dolly lowered her head and whispered out of the side of her mouth, loud enough for Ada to hear, ‘Poor sod! If I’m the best she can come up with, things must be in a bad state.’
‘Ha, ha, very funny! Yer so sharp, Dolly Mitchell, yer’ll be cuttin’ yerself one of these days.’ Ada pushed her chair back and reached for the two shopping bags on the floor. ‘I’d better get back and start on the dinner. I’ve cut everythin’ down to the bone to save a few coppers, so it’ll be a case of hide-and-seek tryin’ to find any meat in the stew. Still, with plenty of vegetables and barley in, the goodness will be there.’
‘Have yer done yer washin’?’
‘No, but it won’t take long once I’ve got the dinner on the go. I left it in to steep all night and our Polly’s been busy with the dolly peg, so I’ve only got to rinse it and put it through the mangle. If I can get it pegged out before we have our meal it should be dry in a couple of hours ’cos there’s a good breeze blowing.’
‘Yer too bloody organised for me,’ Dolly grumbled. ‘Yer move that quick yer make me look as though I’m standin’ still.’
Ada laughed. ‘Most of the time you are, sunshine, admit it! But then yer older than me, so I’ll let yer off.’
‘Hey, yer just watch it, girl! Yer know I’m a very even-tempered woman as a rule, but even I have me limits. Older than you, indeed! There’s six ruddy months between us, that’s all!’
Ada waited until she reached the door before saying, ‘Aye, but some women age quicker than others.’ She saw a cushion come hurtling towards her and ducked her head just in time. ‘Temper, temper!’ She went on her way chuckling. Thank God for Dolly Mitchell, the only woman she knew who was guaranteed to make you forget your troubles for a while and brighten up the darkest of days.
Mary struck a match and lit each of the twelve candles spaced at intervals on the cake which had coloured paper around it, making it look very attractive. The top was iced in white, and written across it in blue icing were the words Happy Birthday Polly.
Blowing the match out before it could burn her fingers, Mary said, ‘Now if yer make a wish and blow all the candles out with one puff, sure the fairies will get busy makin’ sure yer wish comes true.’
Polly was beside herself with excitement. The table was set with a pure white lace cloth, the likes of which she’d never seen before. She only wished her friend Doreen could see it, ’cos she’d never believe Polly when she told her how big the cake was, or that there were sandwiches, fairy cakes, chocolate biscuits and red and yellow jelly creams decorated with hundreds and thousands.
‘Go on, our Polly, hurry up.’ Joey had his eye on the red jelly creams and his mouth was watering. ‘Take a big breath an’ blow.’
Polly closed her eyes, concentrated hard on her wish, then took a deep breath and blew with all her might, extinguishing the flame on every candle. Her face flushed with excitement, she asked, ‘Will I get me wish now, Miss Hanrahan?’
‘I’m sure yer will, me darlin’. Now sit yerself down and tuck in. I want to see every last crumb eaten.’
Joey’s eyes were popping out of his head. ‘D’yer mean all of this is just for us?’
‘Shut up, our Joey,’ Polly said. ‘Yer eyes are bigger than yer belly.’
‘Just eat what yer can,’ Mary told him. ‘What yer can’t eat yer can take home an’ give yer mam and dad a treat.’
‘My dad’s sick.’ Joey jumped when Polly gave him a sharp dig in the ribs. ‘What did yer do that for? Me dad is sick – yer told me he was when he woke us up last night with ’is coughing.’
Polly’s face was flushed. ‘Yer tellin’ fibs, our Joey. I never said nothing of the sort.’
Joey, usually so quiet, got in a huff. Why should he take the blame when he was only telling the truth. ‘I’m not tellin’ fibs, you are, an’ I’m goin’ to tell me mam on yer.’
When Mary looked at Polly’s face she could see she’d been upset by what her brother had said, and it set the Irishwoman thinking. Then she brushed her thoughts aside; the first priority was to restore peace. ‘Is it a fight yer after, an’ on yer sister’s birthday, too? Sure a birthday is supposed to be a grand day altogether, so it is.’ She handed the boy a plate of brawn sandwiches. ‘Here now, eat up an’ let’s not spoil the day for her.’
‘Can I ’ave a jelly cream instead?’
When Polly’s laugh joined Mary’s the tension was broken, and the three chatted happily as they tucked into the goodies. Mary told of the colourful characters she encountered as she plied her wares in Liverpool city centre, and Polly had them in stitches as she related some of the antics her classmates got up to behind their teac
her’s back. Although her audience didn’t know it, her impersonation of the headmistress, Miss Wilton, was very good. Standing up, she pointed a finger at Joey and said in a posh voice, ‘You, Joseph Perkins, go and stand in the corner with your back to the class. Perhaps that will teach you not to be impudent in future.’
When Joey, looking all innocent, asked, ‘Can I ’ave me jelly cream first, please, Miss?’ Mary laughed until the tears rolled down her cheeks.
‘It’s a long time since I enjoyed meself so much,’ she said. ‘Sure, I think it’s my birthday as well as Polly’s.’
‘An’ mine!’ Joey wasn’t going to be left out. ‘I’ve never been to a party before.’
‘Well, I’ll not be forgettin’ when your birthday comes along, Joey. We’ll have another party in your honour.’ Mary began to gather up the plates. ‘I’ll wash these an’ get them out of the way, then I’ve got some sweeties for yer.’
Polly jumped to her feet. ‘I’ll help yer with the dishes, Miss Hanrahan.’
‘Yer a good girl, Polly, so you are.’ Mary smiled at her. ‘Why don’t yer call me Auntie Mary? Sure, doesn’t it sound altogether more friendly.’
‘Why do they all call yer Irish Mary?’ Joey asked, swinging his legs back and forth. ‘It’s a daft name, that.’
‘With four women in the street all called Mary, they gave us nicknames so people would know who they were talkin’ about. So we have fat Mary, skinny lizzie Mary, Mary with the bandy legs and meself, Irish Mary.’
Joey giggled. ‘I think Mary with the bandy legs is the best. It’s dead funny.’
‘Yer wouldn’t think it was funny if it was yerself had the bandy legs, Joey, an’ that’s a fact. Sure the poor soul can’t help the way the good Lord made her.’ Mary picked up the stacked plates before bending her head to look into his face. ‘I’d not like to see a nice little feller like yerself poking fun at anyone. Sure, it would sadden me heart an’ that’s the truth of it.’
‘Oh, I won’t, Auntie Mary! Cross me heart an’ hope to die.’
‘It’s pleased I am to hear it, me darlin’. Now, if you be a good boy while me an’ Polly wash these dishes, then meself has a nice little surprise for yer.’
‘Shall I wash, Auntie Mary?’ Polly looked around the tiny kitchen, thinking how neat and tidy it was. Their kitchen at home was always in a mess with the dolly tub in the middle of the floor and the huge iron mangle taking up most of the space. Then Polly felt ashamed of herself. Her mam had four to wash and clean for, while Mary only had herself to worry about.
‘I’ll wash, Polly, you can dry.’ Mary handed her a spotlessly clean tea towel. ‘Sure, there’s nothing really dirty, we’ll have them done before yer can say Jack Robinson.’
‘Thank you for me party, Auntie Mary, it was lovely.’ Polly picked up one of the washed plates from the wooden draining board and began to dry it. ‘It’s the first time I’ve ever ’ad a proper party.’
‘There’s no need for thanks, me darlin’. Sure, the pleasure was all mine.’ Mary looked up from the sink and into Polly’s eyes. ‘Yer’ll not be gettin’ the little feller into trouble by tellin’ yer mam he said yer dad was sick, will yer? He’s too young to understand, an’ if he spoke out of turn, sure he wouldn’t ’ave done it on purpose.’
‘He had no right to say it,’ Polly said, carefully putting a plate on the shelf which ran along the length of one wall. ‘But I won’t tell me mam on him. I wouldn’t clat on me own brother.’
Mary swirled her hand around in the water for any spoons she’d missed, then slowly tipped the water out of the washing-up bowl. As she reached for the towel hanging on a nail behind the back door, she glanced at Polly. ‘It’s a funny thing for him to say, though, unless he heard it somewhere. I mean, it’s not somethin’ a child his age would make up, is it?’
Polly averted her eyes. ‘I don’t know, Miss … er … Auntie Mary.’
Mary dried her hands and hung the towel back on the nail. Little incidents came back to her, like the morning she’d met Ada and thought she’d been crying. And her neighbour so keen to get a job when she had her hands full with the two children. ‘Polly, is it true that yer dad’s sick?’
Polly screwed her eyes up. How could she lie to a woman who had been so good to her? But she’d made a promise to her mam and it was wrong to break a promise.
‘Polly,’ Mary said softly, ‘I’m asking as a friend.’
‘Yes, me dad is sick, but he’s goin’ to get better!’ Polly was near to tears. ‘He’s goin’ to see the doctor, then he’s goin’ to stay off work for a bit until he’s properly well again.’
‘I see.’ Mary took the girl by the shoulders and pulled her towards her. Patting her back as she would a baby, she said, ‘Don’t feel bad about tellin’ me, me darlin’. It’ll not go any further than these walls. And it’s sure I am that yer dad’s goin’ to be fine, so don’t be worryin’ yer pretty little head. But if yer ever think yer mam needs help, someone to talk to, then yer know where yer can find yer Auntie Mary.’
Chapter Four
Ada slipped the key out of the lock, stepped into the tiny hall and almost collided with her daughter who was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. Polly’s face was white, her eyes wide with fear.
‘Oh Mam, I’m not half glad yer’ve come, I didn’t know what to do!’
‘It’s yer dad, isn’t it?’ Ada bent her leg backwards and kicked the door shut as a tight band circled her heart. ‘It is, isn’t it?’
Polly nodded, clasping her hands together tightly. ‘I was lyin’ in bed waitin’ for him to come in an’ say he was leaving for work, but he never came. He was coughin’ real bad, so I went in to him an’ got the fright of me life.’ Polly’s words came tumbling out with nerves. ‘He looks terrible, Mam, an’ he can hardly breathe.’
‘I knew it!’ Ada’s eyes were on the stairs, her heart telling her to go up quickly to help the man she adored, but her mind keeping her rooted to the spot, fearful of what she might find when she got up there. ‘He was bad in the night an’ I wanted to get the doctor, but he got in such a state he was makin’ himself worse. Said he only had today an’ temorrer to do an’ he could struggle on for the two days.’
‘I’ve been so frightened, Mam! I didn’t know whether to knock next door for Auntie Dolly, or run across for Auntie Mary.’
‘It’s the doctor we want, love, so slip something on an’ run around to his house as fast as yer can. If his housekeeper opens the door an’ tries to fob yer off, tell her I said it’s urgent yer see Dr Rigby, an’ stand there until she fetches him.’ Ada put her hand on the bannister and steeled herself. But before mounting the bottom stair she turned her head and said softly, ‘On yer way back, Polly, give a knock next door an’ ask Auntie Dolly to slip in, there’s a good girl. She’s very good in an emergency, is Dolly, an’ I need someone with me.’
‘I’ll be with yer, Mam! I’ll run as quick as I can, all the way there an’ back.’ Polly tossed her head defiantly. ‘I’m not goin’ to school today. I’m staying with you.’
Ada nodded and climbed the stairs with a heavy heart. She paused for a second on the landing and braced herself before opening the bedroom door. She was used to seeing her husband fighting for breath, but she had never seen him in the state he was in now. His nostrils were flared, their whiteness standing out in the grey pallor of a face wet with perspiration. His two hands were clutching at the bedding as he strove to force air into his lungs.
‘Oh, love!’ Ada ran to the bed and put out her arms to comfort him, but he raised a hand to ward her off.
‘Don’t … come … too close. Might … be … catching.’ Tommy turned his head on the pillow as though the effort had sapped what little energy he had.
Ada stood looking down on him, feeling more useless than she’d ever felt in her life. The man she loved was suffering and she could do nothing to ease the pain. If it had been one of the neighbours lying there, she’d have been bustling about doing this, that and
the other to help. But when it came to one of her own she was too numb with fear to even think straight. Tears built up in the corners of her eyes and as she felt the warmth of them running down her cheeks she mentally gave her head a good shake. With a finger and thumb, she nipped the flesh on her arm until the pain cleared her mind and brought her to her senses. ‘Get moving,’ she growled under her breath. ‘Instead of standin’ like one of the dummies in Blackler’s window, get downstairs and bring a bowl of water an’ a flannel up to wash him down. His vest is wringin’ wet and so are the sheets, so get them changed.’
The thought was easier than the deed. There was no way she could lift Tommy up to change his vest or the sheets, so she had to be content with gently wiping his face, neck and hands with a damp flannel. She was doing this when Joey came to stand in the doorway. He’d heard Polly and his mam talking in the hall, sensed something bad was happening and had buried his head under the bedclothes until nature warned him that if he didn’t get up he’d wet the bed.
‘Mam – what’s wrong with me dad?’
Ada turned her head. ‘He’s not well, son, and we’ve sent for the doctor. You be a good boy and go down an’ get yerself dressed. When Polly comes back she’ll get yer somethin’ to eat.’
Dolly Mitchell appeared behind Joey and put her hands on his shoulders. ‘Do as yer mam said, sweetheart, and show yer Auntie Dolly how big yer are by puttin’ yer own clothes on. Yer can do that easy, can’t yer?’ Joey nodded, then after one last glance at the bed he made his way downstairs.
‘He’s a little love, that one,’ Dolly said. ‘I’ll swap him for one of mine any day.’ If she got a shock when she saw Tommy, she didn’t let it show. ‘Need any help, girl?’
‘I wanted to change his vest, long johns an’ the sheets before the doctor gets here, but I can’t move him on me own.’
‘I’ll give yer a hand, we’ll manage between us.’ Dolly rolled her sleeves up to her elbows. ‘I hope yer don’t think I’m meddling, but I asked Polly to rake the grate out an’ tidy the room up a bit, save you worryin’.’
