by Joan Jonker
‘Are you wearing them tonight to go to the pictures?’ Charles asked. ‘Steve will be bowled over by you.’
Polly shook her head. ‘I’m goin’ to give him a hand to clear Sarah Jane’s stuff away before we go to the pictures. If I turned up in these clothes I’d stick out like a sore thumb. But I’ll be wearin’ them tomorrow for me party.’ She hadn’t been told she was to see her dad the next day because Ada wanted to surprise her, so everyone had been warned by John to keep the secret.
Polly was sitting crosslegged on the floor, a stack of envelopes at the side of her. ‘Ah, this one’s from Sarah Jane, me adopted grandma. I don’t half miss her, I’m glad she’s comin’ to me party.’ As she handed the card to Justin who was sitting beside her on the floor, she said, ‘Yer do know she swears, don’t yer? And me Auntie Dolly, too. When they get together with Aggie, the air will be blue. And you’re not used to that, so yer might be offended.’
‘That’s all right, Polly,’ Charles said as he took the card passed to him by his son. ‘Mr Roscoe has warned us. My dear wife has promised not to swoon and Justin is to cover his ears.’
‘A fat lot of good that will do him, ’cos none of them give yer any warning.’ Polly read Irish Mary’s card and smiled before she carried on. ‘I don’t think they know they’re saying it themselves, it just comes out.’
The next two cards were from Aggie and Fanny. Then when Polly opened the next one she blushed. It was from Steve and he’d put With love on it and a few kisses. She definitely wasn’t showing that to anyone. ‘This one’s private and confidential.’
Charles chuckled. ‘From the boyfriend?’
‘From me best mate.’ Polly wasn’t to be drawn. She slipped the card under her leg and lowered her head as she slit open the next envelope. ‘Yippee! It’s from me dad! Oh, I’ve been praying I’d get one from him.’ She kissed the card before hugging it to her chest. ‘If only he was here it would be the best birthday I’ve ever had.’ Then she re-read what was written on the card in a spidery scrawl. To my own pretty Polly on her birthday. Have a happy day and remember I love you with all my heart. Your loving Dad.
With tears not far away, she hugged the card. ‘Sometimes I think I’ll never see him again.’
‘Oh, come now, Polly,’ Charles said. ‘I never thought you were a defeatist. Of course you’ll see him again – and it might be a lot sooner than you think.’
‘I pray for him every night, Mr Charles, every night without fail. But it’s been so long I’m beginning to think God doesn’t hear me prayers.’
‘What does your father say on his card, Polly?’ Victoria asked. ‘Is it too private for us to see?’
‘Of course yer can see it! Then I’m going to stand it up in me room, right next to me bed, and I can give it a kiss every night.’
Victoria held the card up. ‘Your father hopes you have a happy day, my dear. He wouldn’t like to think you were sad. So open the other cards before I ring for tea.’
The next two cards were bigger and more expensive than the others, one from Charles and Victoria, and one from Justin. And Polly blushed with pleasure when she found Mrs Nightingale, Lucy and Mr Westly had sent their congratulations. Amongst the last to be opened were cards from her mother, Mr John, and Auntie Dolly. ‘I’ve never had so many cards in all me life. I’ll be able to paper me bedroom with them.’
‘Take them upstairs, Polly, and we’ll have a cup of tea when you come down. I suppose you’ll be going to see your mother before you go off to meet Steve?’
‘Yes, and I’ll take the card me dad sent to show her.’ A frown settled on Polly’s forehead. ‘Me dad can’t be so sick, Mr Charles, can he? I mean if he was really sick he wouldn’t have been able to write the card.’
‘Polly, keep thinking positive,’ Charles said nipping the end off a cigar. ‘Your father is going to get better, so keep the flame of hope burning. It’s been a long time, I grant you, but it’ll come right in the end. Now poppy off upstairs, Justin will help you carry some of the things.’
When they were alone, Victoria asked in a low voice, ‘Do you think it wise to keep Polly’s hopes up? According to John her father is really very ill.’
‘Victoria, my darling, Polly is a fourteen-year-old girl. Far better to let her live in hope for a while than burden her with such distressing news. The time for grieving has not arrived yet, and with God’s help it never will. Let’s all do as Polly does – say our prayers every night and hope that the good Lord hears one of us.’
Chapter Twenty-Two
‘I’ve brought all me cards, Mam, but I haven’t brought me presents ’cos I’m goin’ straight down to Bold Street. I promised to give Steve a hand before we go to the pictures.’ Her face aglow with pleasure, Polly waved the bundle in front of her mother’s face. ‘Have yer ever seen so many cards, Mam? I wasn’t expectin’ anything like this many.’
‘Did you get the one off yer dad?’ Ada was anxious. She’d helped Tommy write it out last week and had posted it herself, but she didn’t want Polly to know that. ‘He said he was sendin’ yer one.’
‘Yeah, that one’s me favourite. All the cards are lovely, but me dad’s is special. I’ll leave them for yer to look through and pick them up tomorrow.’
They were standing in the kitchen talking when John came through with a cup and saucer. ‘I thought you were talking to yourself, Ada! Hello, Polly, happy birthday, my dear.’
‘Thanks, Mr John, and thanks for me lovely card. It’s been so exciting I don’t know whether I’m on me head or me heels.’ Polly went on to tell them of the presents she’d received from the Denholmes. ‘They’re really beautiful, Mam, but a bit too posh for me. I don’t know when I’ll get the chance to wear them.’
‘Nonsense!’ John said. ‘A pretty girl deserves pretty clothes. And you’ll have the chance to wear them tomorrow.’
Ada was listening, her smile tinged with sadness because she would never be able to afford to buy her daughter expensive clothes. But Polly was level-headed, she wouldn’t miss all the finery when it was time for her to come and live at home again. Especially if Tommy got better and came out of hospital. She knew her daughter well enough to know she’d go barefoot if it meant her beloved dad was home. ‘Polly, sunshine, will you come early tomorrow to give me a hand with the table?’
‘Of course I will, Mam. But you’ll have to find me a pinny to put over me new green velvet dress. I wouldn’t like to get a mark on it the first time I wear it.’
‘I’ll sort something out for you.’ Ada was thinking that if her daughter knew she was going to see her dad tomorrow, she wouldn’t be worrying about any green velvet dress, no matter how beautiful it was. ‘If yer could get here around two o’clock it’ll give us plenty of time to get everything looking nice before the guests arrive.’
‘I’ll be here on the dot.’ Polly was eager to be away, knowing Steve would be looking out for her. ‘Don’t let those cards get dirty, will yer, Mam?’
Ada gazed down at the bundle of cards she was holding. ‘Is there one from a certain boy in this lot?’
‘Some hope you’ve got, Mam!’ Polly chuckled. ‘That one’s hidden away in a drawer in me bedroom. And I’m on me way now to thank him for it.’ She passed John then wheeled around and came back to stand in front of him. On impulse, she put her arms around his waist and hugged him. ‘I’m looking forward to me party, Mr John, and I’m ever so grateful to yer for lettin’ me have it here.’
‘It’s my pleasure, Polly.’ John put a finger under her chin and tipped her head back. ‘Is it all right if I kiss the birthday girl?’
‘Ay, I’m not half gettin’ a lot of kisses today, Mam. I should have started chargin’ a penny a go, I’d be loaded by now.’ She hugged John again as he was kissing her. ‘The others all got a kiss and a hug, so I don’t see why you shouldn’t.’
‘Don’t tell me you got a kiss and a hug off Justin?’ John said. ‘Now that really would be a surprise.’
‘I didn’t,
no, but I made him give his mam a big hug. He didn’t half blush, ’cos they’re not like us, yer know, they don’t cuddle and kiss.’
‘How d’yer mean, yer made him give his mam a hug?’ Ada asked.
‘Ah, can I tell yer tomorrow? I want to get down and see Sarah Jane and all the other women. Steve said we’ll have to be away for half-five to get to the pictures in time for the first house, so we’ll have to have Sarah Jane all cleared away by then.’
‘All right, sunshine, you poppy off and I hope yer enjoy the picture.’ Ada went to the window to watch her daughter running down the steps. She felt John’s arm come round her waist and leaned against him. ‘Her and Joey make up for all the hardship, John, they’re really good kids.’
‘Polly’s like you, my dear Ada, she’s very pretty.’
‘Oh, come off it, John. She’s much prettier than I’ve ever been.’
‘Then you don’t see yourself as I see you. Next time you look in the mirror take a good, long look, and you’ll see my idea of the perfect woman.’
Steve was bending down refilling one of the buckets with daffodils when he heard Sarah Jane cackle, ‘Here she comes, Steve – my granddaughter and the girl of your dreams.’
Polly was greeted with loud cheers and shouts of congratulations from all sides. Her face beaming, she kissed each of the women in turn, watched by bemused customers. But for Sarah Jane there was a special kiss and a loving embrace.
‘Hey, what about young Steve here? Doesn’t he get a kiss? God knows he’s been on pins for the last hour and he must have corns on his ruddy eyes watchin’ out for yer.’
Polly wagged a warning finger. ‘I’m too young to kiss boys, Sarah Jane. Me mam would have me life.’
‘Sod that for a bleedin’ lark, girl! And yer mam’s not here, so what the eye don’t see the heart ain’t goin’ to grieve over.’
‘Leave it off, Sarah Jane,’ Steve said, his face the colour of beetroot. ‘If I’m goin’ to get a kiss I don’t want it in front of an audience.’
‘Goin’ to sit in the back row at the pictures, are yer?’ The old lady’s wrinkles deepened when she smiled. ‘That’s the best place to do yer courtin’.’
Irish Mary was standing near listening. ‘Every dog knows their own tricks best, Sarah Jane,’ she said. ‘I bet you were a real fly turn when yer were a young girl.’
‘I’m saying nowt.’ The old lady wore a haughty expression. ‘My lips are sealed.’
‘Can we hold yer to that promise, Sarah Jane?’ Florrie asked, perched on her upturned orange box. ‘For the next hour and a half your gob is goin’ to stay closed?’
‘After I’ve told yer this,’ said the old lady. ‘If I put me hand up, it means I want to go to the lavvy. Okay?’
Polly laughed as she went over to Steve. There were a couple of potential customers inspecting the flowers and he was standing by in readiness. Feeling really at home, Polly went into action. ‘Aren’t they a lovely colour? A bunch of those in yer room and yer’d have sunshine all day long. Just think, only tuppence for a week’s sunshine.’ Her words and her bright smile did the trick. Flowers were handed over in exchange for money and she was back in business.
Sarah Jane folded her arms and watched with pleasure and interest. The kid was a natural. With that smile she’d sell anybody anything, even if it was the last thing on earth they wanted. And she did it all without being too pushy, just friendly coaxing.
The next hour passed quickly, and at five o’clock Polly suggested Steve started clearing away while she saw to any last-minute customers. He didn’t only tidy up for Sarah Jane, he did it for all the ladies and this made him very popular with them. He was brushing around each stall with the long-handled stiff brush when Sarah Jane said to Polly, ‘He’ll make someone a good husband, that lad, he’s a good worker and kind with it.’
Polly bent down to whisper in her ear, ‘That’s me yer talking about, Grandma. If Steve doesn’t become my husband, I’ll want to know why. But that little secret is just between you an’ me, so keep it to yerself. Yer see, I haven’t told him yet.’
‘I think he’s one step ahead of yer on that score, girl.’ Sarah Jane cackled as she crossed her shawl over her chest and stuck her hands inside for warmth. ‘But I’ll keep it to meself on one condition. That I’m invited to the weddin’ and yer make sure there’s six bottles of stout for me.’
‘You can be guest of honour, Grandma, and I’ll make sure yer get twelve bottles of stout. How about that?’
‘Twelve bottles!’ The old lady’s shoulders did a jig. ‘Ooh, I don’t know about that, girl, ’cos yer see I do have me limits. I’m unsteady on me feet after six, so if yer insist on me havin’ twelve I’ll be rollin’ all over the bleedin’ place. I wouldn’t refuse, like, ’cos that wouldn’t be polite, but I wouldn’t be responsible for me actions.’
‘Six it is then,’ Polly told her with a smile. ‘I don’t want to see my grandma rolling all over the place. Wouldn’t be dignified.’
Sarah Jane took a hand out of the warmth to pull on Polly’s coat. ‘Here, bend yer head a minute, I want to ask yer somethin’. Can yer get married at fourteen in this country, or is it against the law? Yer see, I just fancy a jars-out, knees-up do.’
‘Yer can have yer jars-out, knees-up do tomorrow.’ Then Polly remembered Justin and added, ‘As long as yer behave yerself.’
‘Behave meself! Yer not supposed to behave yerself at a ruddy party, girl, yer supposed to enjoy yerself! Let yer hair down, kick yer legs in the air, have a sing-song an’ tell a few jokes – that sort of thing.’
‘Oh dear.’ Polly wagged her head from side to side. ‘Just promise me yer won’t tell any dirty jokes.’
‘Listen girl, I can promise yer the earth right now, and mean it. But after a few bottles of stout I’ll have forgotten all about any bleedin’ promise I made. If I’m not half-cut after a few drinks, it means I’m havin’ a bloody awful time, and yer don’t want that, do yer?’
Polly saw Irish Mary talking to Florrie and beckoned her over. ‘Auntie Mary, will you keep yer eye on Sarah Jane tomorrow night, make sure she doesn’t say anything she shouldn’t?’
‘Oh, come on, Polly, that’s a tall order, that is! It would be easier to stop the wind from blowing, the rain from falling down or the stars from twinkling, than it would be to stop Sarah Jane from misbehavin’. Sure, isn’t her motto in life that yer say what yer think and to hell with everyone … is it not the truth I’m telling, Sarah Jane?’
The old lady nodded. ‘Nail on the head, girl, nail on the head.’
Mary winked at Polly, who was looking decidedly nervous. ‘Don’t worry yer pretty head about it, me darlin’, ’cos when Sarah Jane puts her mind to it she can be the life and soul of the party, so she can. She’s only having you on, pulling yer leg, and that’s the truth of it.’
Again the old lady nodded. ‘Nail on the head again, girl, nail on the head.’
Steve came along then, looking very smart after changing into his best jacket which he’d brought with him for the very special day in his life. ‘I’ve cleared everywhere and there’s not many flowers left, so Florrie said she’d sort Sarah Jane out.’
‘I’ll give a hand, too,’ Mary said. ‘You two forget about everything but enjoying yerselves.’
Polly could feel the butterflies in her tummy as she bent to kiss Sarah Jane. Her first date, and she wouldn’t want it with anyone else but the boy who was standing beside her looking as though he’d lost a tanner and found a pound. They were walking away, their arms stiff at their sides and a yard distance between them, when Polly turned her head. ‘Don’t forget, six o’clock tomorrow.’
‘I’ll have me dance shoes under me arm,’ Sarah Jane called after them. ‘You just make sure the bottles of stout are open, ’cos with havin’ no teeth I can’t open them meself any more.’
Walking up Ranelagh Street, Steve asked, ‘Which picture do yer want to see? Boris Karloff or Jeanette MacDonald and Nelson Eddy?’
> ‘Oh, not Boris Karloff – he frightens the life out of me! I don’t want to have nightmares, not on me birthday.’
Steve didn’t let his disappointment show. He was all in favour of the Boris Karloff thriller, thinking that when Polly got frightened it would be a good excuse to slip his arm across her shoulders and comfort her. ‘Okay, then, we’ll go to the Odeon to see Jeanette MacDonald.’ As he fingered the half-crown in his pocket he hoped the seats in the city centre cinema cost the same as the local flicks … fourpence in the front stalls, sixpence at the back, and ninepence if you wanted to go the whole hog and sit in the circle. Still, even if it did cost more to get in the Odeon, he’d still have enough over to buy Polly a box of chocolates from the kiosk in the foyer. And with a bit of luck it might even run to an ice cream when the lights went up at the interval and the usherettes came around. He’d blow caution to the wind and spend the whole half-crown on giving Polly a night to remember. It would mean he’d have to walk to work every day next week but it would be worth it.
‘There’s no queue, so we can go straight in.’ Polly felt like skipping with excitement. She was fourteen now, she could even go to work if she wanted to. That meant she was nearly a young woman. And going out on a date with a boy – well, that showed she was growing up.
Steve bought two tickets for the back stalls before leading Polly over to the kiosk. ‘What would yer like, Polly? One of those boxes of Cadbury’s Dairy Milk?’
Polly gasped. ‘No! They’re sixpence a box!’
‘I didn’t ask yer how much they were,’ Steve growled, ‘I asked yer if yer wanted a box.’
‘Yer can’t afford to spend that much on me.’ She gave a determined shake of her head. ‘I’ll have a tuppenny slab.’
‘Yer’ll have a box, seein’ as it’s yer birthday.’ Steve handed the small silver coin over. ‘I’ll take one of those, please.’
‘Ah, it’s yer birthday, is it, love?’ The assistant slipped the purple box into a white paper bag. ‘Many happy returns.’
‘Thank you.’ Polly gave her one of her beaming smiles before Steve cupped her elbow and turned her towards the entrance. ‘Yer shouldn’t have done that,’ she hissed. ‘Yer can’t afford to spend that much on me.’
