The Pride of Polly Perkins

by Joan Jonker

  ‘Da-da-de-da-dah.’ Dolly pushed her tongue out as far as it would go. ‘Little Goody Two-Shoes, anyone would think yer’d never done nothin’ wrong in yer whole life.’

  Guilt brought a flush to Ada’s face. Her neighbour was only being her usual funny self, and any other day Ada wouldn’t have taken it to heart. But today it touched a raw nerve. ‘I’m far from bein’ an angel, sunshine, an’ I’d be the last to say I am. But I’ve never pinched a cake off me husband, so there!’

  ‘I won’t need to pinch it off my Les.’ Dolly grinned, pulling a chair out and sitting down. ‘I’ll do a swap with him.’

  ‘How d’yer mean, yer’ll do a swap with him?’

  Dolly wagged her head and tutted. ‘Surely to God yer know how to get what yer want off yer husband? Just put him on a promise!’

  ‘A promise of what?’

  ‘I don’t have to spell it out to yer, do I? Ye gods, yer’ve been married for fifteen years – if yer don’t know what I mean by getting round yer husband, then I’m wasting me bloody breath.’

  The penny dropped and Ada rolled her eyes to the ceiling. ‘I was slow there, wasn’t I?’

  ‘Not slow, girl, dead bloody stopped! I hope yer weren’t as slow off the mark last night?’

  ‘I most certainly was not! I did very well, an’ it was all down to the dress I got off you an’ Les. I felt so good in it I’d have served the Queen an’ not turned a hair. But I’d have been well out of me depth in me old workin’ clothes, so I’m really grateful to you an’ your feller.’

  ‘Only too glad to help, girl. I’ll keep me eye out, an’ if anythin’ else decent comes along I’ll give yer the nod.’

  ‘Yer a smasher, Dolly.’

  ‘Yes, girl, I know.’

  Tommy couldn’t believe his eyes when Ada walked into the ward on the Sunday. She’d sat up late into the night to get the green coat finished and she was wearing it open over the maroon dress. And she’d gone to pains over her appearance. Her hair was piled up on top of her head and she was wearing lipstick. ‘Oh love, yer a sight for sore eyes.’

  Ada leaned closer to whisper, ‘All off Les Mitchell’s second-hand cart. I had to turn the coat inside out ’cos the material was faded, but it’s come out fine. The whole lot only came to one and tuppence – and that includes the reel of cotton.’

  ‘If we were out in the garden I wouldn’t be able to keep me hands off yer.’ Tommy was still very pale and thin, but his breathing seemed easier today. ‘I’d be pulling yer into the bushes so I could give yer a big hug.’

  ‘And I’d be letting yer,’ Ada said. ‘In fact, I’d be the one doin’ the pullin’ and the huggin’.’

  ‘Yer still love me then, Ada?’

  ‘What sort of question is that! Of course I still love yer, yer daft ha’porth. It’s only me clothes that’s different, not what’s in me heart. There’s only ever been you for me, love, an’ that’ll never change.’

  ‘D’yer know, seein’ yer like that takes me back to our courting days. Yer used to wear yer hair up like that then, remember? An’ all the fellers used to whistle after yer.’

  ‘It’s a long time since a feller whistled after me, Tommy Perkins! If yer saw me in me workin’ clothes, yer’d know why. I only got dressed up like this ’cos I’ve seen some of the young nurses in here an’ I thought I’d better pull me socks up.’

  Tommy laid his head back. ‘I feel a lot better for seein’ yer like this. I’ve been worried in case yer were just putting a brave face on for me, but I’m easier in me mind now, knowing you and the kids are all right.’

  ‘Yer’ll see the kids for yerself next Sunday.’ Ada was pleased when his face lit up. ‘It’ll only be through the window, but they’re dying to see you even if only to get a wave off yer.’

  ‘You’re full of surprises today, love. But they’re the sort of surprises I need. Do me more good than all the medicine in the world. In fact, you are my world, love – you an’ the kids.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  ‘Sit down an’ take the weight off yer feet for five minutes.’ Aggie waited until Ada was seated on one of the round, black leather-covered office stools before handing her a cup of tea. ‘Yer not gettin’ a saucer, saves washing up.’ There was affection in the smile she bestowed on the younger woman. ‘I’ve got somethin’ to tell yer that might make yer cry yer eyes out or jump up an’ down for joy. And I want to tell yer now instead of springin’ it on yer, sudden like.’ She wiped a hand across her chin where tea had dribbled down. ‘I won’t be comin’ back after Christmas, girl, I’m packin’ in work. I’ve had a bellyful an’ it’s time to call it a day.’

  ‘Oh Aggie, no!’ Ada was horrified. She’d worked with the old woman for ten months now and she was like family to her. ‘Don’t leave, please! If the work is too much for yer, I’ll help yer more.’

  ‘I’m seventy-eight, Ada, and I’ve done my whack.’ Aggie tried not to let it show but there was a trace of sadness in her smile. ‘I’ve never told yer about me life before, girl, ’cos I thought yer had enough misery without me addin’ to it. Mr John knows because I’ve worked for him, an’ his mam and dad before him, for nigh on forty years. They were good to me, his mam and dad, the best friends I ever had. They took me in an’ gave me a job when nobody else would touch me with a barge-pole. But I’m fond of yer, girl, yer’ve been like a daughter to me. So I’m goin’ to tell yer me tale of woe, an’ yer’ll need a hankie at the ready.’

  Aggie put her cup down on the desk and fixed her tired eyes on Ada. ‘I’ve had a bloody hard life, girl, I can tell yer. Had to leave school at twelve because me mam took to her bed and there was only me to look after her. I’ve never regretted it, mind, ’cos I thought the world of her. But she never got better and died when she was only thirty-two. At fourteen I was left to fend for meself an’ I’ve been doin’ it ever since. I had no family, yer see, ’cos me mam was never married. I never knew who me dad was, he dumped me mam when she told him she was expectin’. The bleedin’ coward scarpered an’ left her to face the music. She never saw hide nor hair of him again. And to this day I’ll swear it was the shame that killed her.’

  Ada was shaking her head slowly, her heart going out to the older woman. ‘I feel ashamed of meself. The times I’ve moaned to yer, tellin’ yer all me troubles, when I’ve had it cushy compared to you. But don’t leave, Aggie, I beg yer. I look forward to comin’ here every day but it wouldn’t be the same without you. In fact, my life wouldn’t be the same without you. Couldn’t yer come in every day and just sit with yer feet up? I’ll do the work an’ you can boss me around.’

  ‘I’m sorry, girl, but me mind’s made up. There’s no way I’d sit an’ watch you do all the work, that’s not in me nature. I’m as sad as you are, but me body’s tellin’ me it’s time to pack in. Kneelin’ down is gettin’ to be a nightmare. Once I’m down it takes me all me time to get up. An’ those bleedin’ stairs are killin’ me.’ Aggie took a drink of tea to try and dislodge the lump in her throat. ‘It’ll break me heart leavin’ Mr John, I’ve known him since he was a baby. Walkin’ away from him is goin’ to be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.’

  ‘So he doesn’t know yet?’ Ada was grief-stricken but she kept it hidden. Aggie was upset enough without her making things worse.

  ‘No, not yet. It’s two weeks to Christmas. I’ll pluck up the courage to tell him before then.’

  ‘I don’t know what to say, Aggie, I can’t take it in yet. But my feelings are selfish ones ’cos I don’t want to lose yer. Yer won’t just disappear from me life, will yer? I mean, yer will come and see me?’

  ‘Of course I will, girl – a bad penny always turns up.’ Aggie sighed. ‘Well, I’ve got that off me chest an’ I feel better for it. Now it’s back to the grindstone for thee an’ me.’

  Ada worked with a heavy heart. There were many reasons for her sadness, one being her own loss. She couldn’t imagine coming here every day and Aggie not opening the door to her. But Ada’s bigge
st concern was the old woman herself. Who was going to look after her? With neither kith nor kin, who would be on hand to help her when the day came that she couldn’t fend for herself?

  Ada was on her knees dusting the high skirting board on the top landing, and as her hand moved the soft duster along the wood, all sorts of questions were running through her mind. If Aggie got sick, who’d be there to hear her cry for help? And who’d do her washing and ironing for her, or her shopping? After such a hard life she deserved better than to be left alone in her old age.

  In her mind’s eye, Ada pictured Aggie lying in her bed, her life slipping away and not a soul to hold her hand or offer comfort. The picture was so clear, so painful, that Ada sat back on her heels and let the tears flow. And this was how Mr John found her when he stepped from the stairs on to the landing.

  ‘Ada, my dear woman, what is it?’ John dropped on his haunches beside her. ‘Has something dreadful happened?’

  Ada cursed herself for her childishness. A grown woman like herself should be able to control her emotions and not be bawling her eyes out every time she had a setback. ‘Nothin’, Mr John. Take no notice of me – it doesn’t take much to set me off.’

  ‘Look, leave that for now and stand up.’ John straightened himself and took her by the arm. ‘You’ve no idea how it distresses me to see you on your hands and knees.’

  Sniffing, Ada said, ‘It’s me job, Mr John, an’ there’s no shame in it. It’s the only sort of work I can do, an’ it’s either that or me an’ the kids starving to death.’

  ‘In here.’ He steered her through to his office. ‘Now what’s all this about? And don’t say “nothing”, because you’re not the type of woman to cry for nothing.’

  Ever since the night he’d held her in his arms, Ada had made sure she’d never put herself in that position again. She’d helped him out several times now when his card-playing friends came, and had enjoyed the evenings. But whenever they were alone she kept a distance between them. The incident had never been mentioned by Mr John, in word or deed, and he’d never changed in his attitude to her. He was still as friendly and solicitous as he’d always been. It was almost as though the indiscretion had never occurred, and Ada was grateful to him for that.

  ‘Honestly, Mr John, there’s nothing wrong!’ Ada had no intention of betraying Aggie’s secret. It was up to the old woman to tell him when she felt the time and place were right. Their relationship was too precious for an outsider to interfere.

  John gripped her arms. ‘Ada, when I told you to come to me if you ever needed a shoulder to cry on, I meant it most sincerely. So please tell me what’s troubling you. I might be able to help.’

  ‘Well, if yer must know, it’s just me bad temper,’ Ada lied. It wasn’t the best excuse in the world but it was the only one she could think of. ‘I was late gettin’ home from work this mornin’ and the kids wouldn’t shift themselves to get to school on time. So what does any woman resort to when things don’t go her way? She cries like a baby.’

  John held her eyes for a few seconds before releasing her arms. ‘Why do I have the feeling you’re not telling me the truth? Your words tell me one thing but those eyes of yours tell me another.’ He walked to stand behind his desk. ‘I wish you felt you could trust me, Ada, because I only have your wellbeing at heart. I thought you’d understand that by now.’

  ‘Oh, I do, Mr John. I’d trust yer with me life, an’ that’s the God’s honest truth!’ Ada dropped her head. ‘An I was lying to yer. I wasn’t late gettin’ home from work an’ me kids are the best-behaved children in the whole world.’ She raised her eyes to meet his. ‘But I wasn’t cryin’ for meself, an’ that is the truth. I was feelin’ sad because of somethin’ a good friend of mine told me. And yer know women are never happier than when they’ve got somethin’ to cry about.’

  ‘I’ve not had much experience with women, Ada, so I really wouldn’t know. But from my limited experience, I would say you weren’t like other women. You’ve survived where most others would have fallen by the wayside. With your head held high you’ve shown spirit and strength of character, and I admire you very much.’

  But I’m not half the woman the old lady downstairs is. The one who’s going to knock you for six in the next few days, Ada thought. And it was thinking of her mate that gave Ada the idea of how to lighten the situation. ‘Thank you, kind sir! But this isn’t gettin’ me job done, is it? As Aggie would say, “This bleedin’ cryin’ lark doesn’t half interfere with work”.’

  John smiled. ‘There’s another woman of spirit who I have much admiration for. She tells you things straight, does Agnes, no messing around. I need to have a word with her now, but if I was to call down and ask her to come up, she’d give me a straight answer … “Not bleedin’ likely, Mr John. You want me, you come down an’ get me. If I’m not worth the journey, then sod yer”.’

  There was heartache behind Ada’s laugh. Aggie was going to leave a void in her life, but more so in Mr John’s.

  John found Aggie in the office on the first floor. ‘Have you got a minute to spare, Agnes?’

  ‘For you, Mr John, I’ve got five minutes.’ There was fondness in the smile she gave him. ‘What are yer after? If it’s to ask me to come an’ live tally with yer, the answer’s “yes, please”.’

  ‘If only you’d been born a few years later,’ John laughed, ‘you’d have been my ideal woman.’

  ‘I’d have made a better job of it than the one yer married to, that’s a dead cert. How yer ever came to lumber yerself with a cold fish like her is beyond me.’

  ‘I made my bed, Agnes, and now I’m having to lie on it.’

  ‘Aye, on yer own! What a right bleedin’ performance that is! Oh, I know, I shouldn’t talk about her like that, but she gets on my ruddy wick.’ Aggie put her face closer to his. ‘I know someone you’d like to live tally with, an’ I’d rest happy if yer were married to someone like her.’

  ‘I could never hide anything from you, could I, Agnes? But I didn’t think it was that obvious.’

  ‘Not to anyone else it isn’t. But I’ve know yer too long, Mr John, not to be able to read yer like a book.’

  John sighed. ‘Well, it’s Ada I want to talk about. When I went upstairs I found her crying. I wondered if you know why. She’s very fond of you and I thought she might have confided in you.’

  ‘Why didn’t yer ask her yerself? Yer’ve got a tongue in yer head, an’ a ruddy dictionary to go with it.’

  ‘I did ask her, or course I did! First she said she was in a temper with her children, then when I suggested she wasn’t telling the truth, she admitted it was a lie. Her second excuse was that she was sad over something a good friend had told her. But I have my doubts and decided to ask you. If she’s in trouble I want to know so I can help.’

  Aggie stared at him for a while, then said, ‘Sit down, Mr John, I’ve got somethin’ to tell yer.’

  Ada stepped from the bottom stair and was about to put her cleaning utensils down when she cocked her head. It was very quiet, not a sound anywhere. It wasn’t like Aggie to be quiet; if she wasn’t banging furniture around she was either whistling in tune, or singing out of tune. And Mr John should be down here somewhere – they couldn’t both disappear into the blue. Then Ada smiled. They were probably having a sly cup of tea in the kitchen. She’d sneak up on them and catch them red-handed.

  But when Ada reached the kitchen, the sight that met her eyes took the smile from her face and stopped her in her tracks. Aggie and Mr John had their arms around each other and although Aggie’s face was pressed against Mr John’s chest and couldn’t be seen, her muffled weeping could be heard. What to do now, Ada asked herself. Shall I slip away quietly so as not to embarrass them? Or shall I offer to make them a cup of tea? Slip away, a voice in her head told her. Your presence would be an intrusion. So she started to back out of the room, but the movement must have caught Mr John’s eye and he turned his head. ‘Come in, Ada.’

  She saw tear
s glistening in his eyes and shook her head. He wouldn’t want anyone to see him like that. ‘No, I’ll leave you two alone. Give me a shout when yer want me to brew up.’

  ‘Ada, my dear, don’t be embarrassed by my tears because I’m not. Crying isn’t only a woman’s prerogative, you know. Men have emotions too.’

  Then Aggie surfaced. Her hands wiping furiously at her face, and sniffing up loudly, she said, ‘Him an’ his bleedin’ words no one can understand. What was that word that means men can do it as well as women?’

  John took a hankie from his breast pocket and handed it to her. ‘Wipe your face and blow your nose. The word was prerogative, and it means I can have a bleedin’ good cry as well as you.’

  Aggie blew loudly into the pure white linen handkerchief. ‘What ’ave I told yer about swearin’, Mr John? If Ada wasn’t here I’d put yer over me knee an’ smack yer backside, like I used to when yer were little.’

  ‘I would rather you didn’t discuss my backside with Ada, if you don’t mind, Agnes. A man must retain his dignity.’

  With the tension lifted, Ada made for the sink. ‘I think we could all do with a cup of tea. What say all of you?’

  Aggie’s blotched face grinned. ‘I’ll have a drop of Mr John’s whisky in mine – for medicinal purposes, yer understand.’

  ‘Tut, tut, tut!’ John put a look of severity on his face. ‘If there’s one thing I can’t abide, it’s a drunken woman.’

  ‘Mr John, shut up an’ get the bleedin’ whisky!’

  He stood to attention and saluted. ‘Aye, aye, sir!’

  Ada waited until she heard him climbing the stairs. ‘Yer told him, then?’

  Aggie studied Ada’s face before answering. Then she decided if she told her friend the whole story she wouldn’t be doing Mr John any favours. So rather than take a chance on him losing both the women he cared about she gave her own version. ‘We were standin’ here talking and I thought it best to get it over and done with. I’m glad I did ’cos I’ll sleep better tonight.’