It Had To Be You

by June Francis

  ‘Isn’t she with you in bed?’ asked Betty, trying to avoid looking at his bowed legs in the grubby long johns.

  ‘No, we had a disagreement and she went out.’ He scowled down at her.

  ‘Where did she go?’

  ‘I don’t bloody know. She didn’t bloody tell me!’

  Betty wished he’d stop swearing and go back to bed. She got to her feet, wincing as she had hurt her back when she slipped. ‘I’ll just wait here to let our Dorothy and Maggie in,’ she said. ‘They’re first-footing.’

  He stared at Betty. ‘It’s late. You should be in bed. Get upstairs.’

  She shook her head. ‘I have to be here to welcome them in.’

  ‘I said get to bed!’ he roared, bringing up his hand and hitting her across the face.

  The blow caused her to rock on her feet. She was stunned by his actions and she could only stare at him. He hit her again and there was an expression in his eyes that terrified her. She did not wait for the next blow to fall but fled up the stairs. He watched her go with a smirk on his face. Then went over to the front door and shot the bolts top and bottom before following after her.

  Dorothy and Maggie stood on the front step. ‘Why the heck doesn’t our Betty answer?’ asked Maggie. ‘She’s supposed to be letting us in. Surely she hasn’t fallen asleep?’

  ‘There’s no point in us waiting any longer,’ said Dorothy, giving a shiver. ‘We’re much later than we thought we’d be. Drag the key through the letter box and we’ll let ourselves in.’

  ‘What are you two doing out here?’ demanded a familiar voice from behind them.

  Dorothy turned and stared at her mother. ‘We thought you were in bed!’

  ‘No.’ Elsie’s expression was fixed. ‘Teddy and I had words, so I decided to go out and visit an old friend. We haven’t met for a while, so I wanted to see how she was getting on. Why are you two waiting on the doorstep?’

  ‘Betty’s supposed to be letting us in, but she’s not answering,’ said Dorothy. ‘She must have fallen asleep.’

  Maggie drew the key through the letter box and inserted it in the lock. It turned all right but the door didn’t open. She frowned and tried again.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ asked Elsie, leaning forward and peering at the lock.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Maggie, shaking her head.

  Dorothy stepped forward. ‘Let me try.’ She did so, but the door still didn’t open. ‘I think it must be bolted,’ she said.

  Elsie swore. ‘Betty wouldn’t have done that. It’s bloody Teddy. He must have woken up and done it just to be bloody awkward. We’re going to have to go round the back.’

  They walked up the side of the house only to discover that the back door was locked. ‘How the heck are we going to get in?’ asked Maggie, dismayed.

  ‘The bathroom window could still be open,’ said Elsie.

  The three stepped back and looked up and saw that it was slightly open.

  ‘Our Jared used to keep a ladder behind the shed,’ said Dorothy. ‘Let’s go and get it.’

  The sisters went and fetched the ladder whilst Elsie tried the back door again in the hope that it might just give. When it didn’t, she lit a cigarette with a shaking hand. ‘If I get pneumonia, he’ll get it in the neck,’ she muttered.

  Maggie glanced at her mother as they placed the ladder against the wall. She held it steady whilst Dorothy climbed up to the bathroom window. She managed to push it wide open and moved aside the jar of bath salts, bottle of shampoo and tooth mugs. She clambered over the sill with some difficulty, but once inside, she didn’t hang about but went downstairs. She opened the back door and let her mother and Maggie in.

  ‘Well, I didn’t expect to first-foot through the bathroom window, Mum,’ said Dorothy, handing the coal, salt, bread and money to her. ‘Happy New Year.’

  Elsie did not answer but went through into the sitting room and threw the coal on the fire and placed the rest of the items on the table. ‘Well, he’s not down here, so he must have locked up and gone to bed,’ she said angrily.

  ‘But what about Betty?’ asked Maggie. ‘The wireless is still on. If she’d fallen asleep I would have thought she’d done so down here.’

  ‘Perhaps she just got fed up of waiting,’ said Elsie, warming her hands by the fire. ‘How long were you away?’

  ‘We bumped into several of the neighbours and they kept us talking,’ said Dorothy.

  ‘Then that’s what happened,’ said her mother. ‘Betty probably thought you’d be able to get in by dragging the key through the letter box and went to bed.’

  ‘That would mean Uncle Teddy must have come down after she did,’ said Dorothy, frowning. ‘She wouldn’t have locked us out.’

  ‘He did it deliberately to annoy me,’ said Elsie in a tight voice.

  She went over to the sideboard cupboard and took out a bottle of sherry and poured herself a glass. ‘Well, being locked out wasn’t a good start to 1953 but let’s hope it gets better. Happy New Year,’ she said, raising her glass and then downing the sherry in one go before heading up the stairs.

  Maggie looked at Dorothy, who reached for the sherry bottle and filled two small glasses. She handed one to her younger sister. ‘Here’s to our Jared. May God keep him safe and end the war in Korea and bring him home.’

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Spring 1953

  ‘So what are you going to do?’ asked Lila, sprawling on a blanket on Emma’s lawn. The air was balmy and the scent of lilac wafted towards her on a light breeze.

  ‘You mean about visiting Liverpool?’ asked Emma, pegging out the last pillowcase.

  ‘Aye, you haven’t seen Betty since February and you said that she didn’t seem herself.’

  Emma frowned and placed the washing basket on the coal bunker before kneeling beside Lila on the blanket. ‘I’m thinking of going next Saturday. Easter weekend was a washout but at least there were plenty of Easter eggs in the shops now sweets are off ration. Last weekend was good. Once sugar comes off the ration, as they mentioned on the wireless, I’ll be able to make more cakes and hopefully more money. I’ve enough to afford the fare to Liverpool, but I’m going to have to think seriously about getting those missing slates fixed on the roof soon. It would have been more sensible of me to have had it done last autumn, but I really had set my heart on seeing Betty and couldn’t afford both.’ Absently she plucked a leaf from a nearby mint plant and chewed on it. ‘She hasn’t answered my last letter. I’m wondering if it’s gone missing or there’s something seriously wrong.’

  ‘Surely Dorothy or her friend Irene would have let you know if there was,’ said Lila, gazing up at her.

  ‘I would have thought so, but perhaps it’s something she can’t talk about,’ said Emma.

  ‘She could be worried about her exams coming up,’ suggested Lila.

  ‘Maybe. I’ll write to Irene and post the letter today. She should get it by Tuesday at the latest. If she replies straight away I should know what’s going on before making the trip.’

  ‘Will you be seeing Dougie?’

  ‘He hasn’t been in touch,’ said Emma shortly.

  ‘Have you written to him?’

  ‘No. I’m not going to chase after him if he can’t be bothered writing to me,’ replied Emma, wishing her friend would drop the subject of Constable Marshall.

  Lila turned over a page of the Red Letter magazine. ‘I wonder if we’ll ever see him again.’

  ‘Well, that will be up to him. I suppose you’ll be working on Saturday, so you won’t be able to come with me to Liverpool,’ said Emma, thinking that Lila’s one and only trip to the big city seemed to have put her off going there again.

  ‘Aye, I am working,’ said Lila. ‘It’s a busy time of the year.’

  ‘That’s OK,’ said Emma, getting up and balancing the washing basket on her hip. ‘If you don’t mind, I’ll go and write that letter right now.’

  Irene Miller picked up the envelope from the coconut mat
and saw that it was addressed to her. She recognised the handwriting and so she placed the letter with the other letter addressed to Betty and called to her stepfather that she was off to school now.

  She headed towards Bridge Road, hoping to see Betty at the bus stop. She used to always be there before Irene up until a few weeks ago. She nibbled on a fingernail, thinking that Betty hadn’t seemed her normal self since January. Early on in the Easter school holidays, she had expected Betty to come round but there had been no sign of her, so Irene had decided to call at the Gregorys’ house.

  Never again!

  Mrs Gregory had bitten off her nose and told her to bugger off. Irene had been shocked by her use of such language. But she had stood her ground and asked what she had done wrong to deserve being sworn at. She was told that she’d led Betty astray by encouraging her to go to the Gianellis’. Irene had protested and said that Dorothy had been there to keep her eye on them. For a moment she had thought Mrs Gregory would blow a gasket but instead she’d slammed the door in Irene’s face.

  To Irene’s surprise Maggie was at the bus stop, standing a little away from the queue, looking anxious. ‘What are you doing here?’ asked Irene. ‘This isn’t your bus stop. Where’s Betty?’

  ‘She’s been terribly sick for a week or more and Mum’s been demented. She’s been dosing her with stuff that’s made her even more sick,’ said Maggie rapidly. ‘Mum wouldn’t let me go out, saying I might be infectious. She asked me questions about who we’ve been mixing with in case she had caught it off them. I had to tell her about us going to the Gianellis’ music evenings. She wanted everyone’s names.’

  ‘I called but she told me to b— off,’ said Irene.

  Maggie gasped. ‘She shouldn’t have sworn at you but she’s been really worried about our Betty. I actually thought that she might die!’

  Irene was horrified. ‘She was that bad?’

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘Poor Betty.’

  ‘I know.’ Maggie sighed. ‘She can get on my nerves at times but I don’t want her to die. Fortunately Mum seems to think she’ll be on the mend soon. I thought I might be infectious but she said enough time had passed to convince her that I wasn’t, so I’m off to school. She’s given me a note to give to you to take in to Betty’s teacher. Truthfully, I was glad to get out of the house. I was fed up of being in and having to put up with Uncle Teddy, who’s been in a right mood, expecting me to wait on him hand and foot.’ She glowered at nothing in particular before continuing. ‘Mum was paying him hardly any attention with her being so worried about our Betty.’

  Maggie handed over an envelope and Irene took from her pocket the letter addressed to Betty that had arrived a couple of weeks ago. ‘Give that to her. It’s from Emma.’

  Maggie thanked her. ‘I’ll give it to our Dorothy and she can give it to her. I’m still not allowed in our Betty’s bedroom.’ Her brow furrowed. ‘It’s odd that our Dorothy is and she’s still going to work. I wonder if I should tell Mum about Emma, with our Betty being so ill?’

  Irene turned on her. ‘You shouldn’t do that without speaking to Betty about it first! Anyway, don’t you think your mother’s got enough on her plate without getting her all worked up about Emma?’

  ‘I suppose you’re right,’ muttered Maggie. ‘I’ve been told I’m not to go to the Gianellis’ anymore. I’m really miffed about that.’

  ‘It’s a blinking shame,’ said Irene. ‘But if Betty is still not well by Saturday, we could meet at the bridge on Saturday morning at ten and you can tell me how things are.’

  Maggie’s freckled face brightened. ‘I’ll do that. See you!’

  Irene watched her as she went off to catch her bus to Litherland High School for Girls. Her own bus drew up and she climbed aboard. After she had paid for her ticket, she took out the letter from Emma and began to read it. She frowned, wondering what reply to give to Emma. The truth as she knew it? Maybe she should suggest that Emma put off her visit for a couple of weeks. Surely by then Betty would be better?

  Dorothy stood beside the bed, gazing down at Betty. She was so pale that her freckles seemed to stand out. It was as if all the blood had been drained out of her. It was not since Aunt Lizzie’s sudden death that Dorothy had seen her cousin looking so vulnerable. She knew what her mother was saying but she found it difficult to accept. When she thought about those musical evenings and how she had enjoyed making the acquaintance of the Gianelli family and friends, she found it nigh on impossible to believe that any of the youths had been responsible for Betty being pregnant. She had never been alone with any of them for a start, and although the teenagers often left the house together, Dorothy always accompanied them, along with Nellie Gianelli’s sister, Lottie, and her family.

  ‘I’m determined to find out who was responsible,’ said Elsie, her voice seething with anger. ‘She is so stubborn. Why won’t she tell me who did it to her?’

  Dorothy said firmly, ‘I’ve said it once, Mum, and I’ll say it again, it’s none of those lads who were at the Gianellis’.’

  ‘You’re determined to have your way, aren’t you?’ said Elsie, reaching for a cigarette. ‘You should never have taken her to that Eyetie’s house. I thought you’d have known better than to have mixed with Catholics.’

  ‘You’re wrong about them,’ said Dorothy earnestly. ‘They’re lovely people.’

  ‘Go on! Go against me! You always think you know everything and you know nothing.’ Elsie lit the cigarette and sucked smoke into her lungs.

  ‘By their fruits you will know them,’ said Dorothy softly.

  Her mother’s eyes narrowed as she stared at her through the curling smoke. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Work it out yourself, Mum. Why don’t you go downstairs and make yourself a cup of tea? I’ll sit with Betty.’

  Elsie gazed down at her niece. ‘Good money, that’s what she’s cost me. Could have brought shame on this household if I hadn’t acted quickly. Fortunately I knew a midwife and she has sympathy for the likes of Betty. Surely she must have known what she did was wrong, but is she saying anything? No!’

  ‘Did you tell her how babies are made, then?’ asked Dorothy, flicking back her blonde hair and sitting on the side of the bed. ‘I had to explain to her what periods are. She was playing hockey when she started bleeding and had no idea what was happening to her. Fortunately she had the sense to come to me and ask. I found out from a book.’

  Elsie reddened and blustered, ‘You shouldn’t be reading that kind of book. Anyway, that’s no excuse. My mother never told me anything and I kept myself pure until I married your dad.’

  ‘Then sex must have come as a terrible shock to you.’

  Elsie gasped and slapped her face. ‘Go and wash your mouth out with soap! You know far too much for an unmarried girl. Don’t think I’ll be here for you if you get into trouble.’ She hurried from the bedroom.

  Dorothy put a hand to her stinging cheek, thinking her mother would be the last person she would go to if she needed help. It was true that she had been through a worrying time with Betty, but it seemed she was more concerned about what the neighbours thought than poor Betty. What a thing to have to go through.

  Dorothy reached out and took hold of her cousin’s hand, thinking she would dearly love to know who had got her pregnant. She could only remember the crippled Marshall twin ever giving Betty more than a second glance and he’d only joined them six weeks ago. She felt her cousin’s fingers tighten about her hand and as she watched, Betty’s eyelashes slowly lifted.

  A pang of pity shot through Dorothy and she remembered the stricken expression in Betty’s eyes when Elsie had told her what ailed her.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ asked Dorothy.

  Betty did not answer but withdrew her hand from her cousin’s and turned her head away and buried it in the pillow. ‘I want to be left alone,’ she said in a muffled voice.

  ‘Honestly?’

  ‘Yes! I don’t want to talk about it.�
��

  Dorothy sighed. ‘OK. But I have a letter here for you from Emma. Irene gave it to Maggie. It came the other week but—’

  ‘You don’t have to say any more, just give it to me,’ said Betty, holding out a hand without lifting her head.

  Dorothy gave it over. ‘Irene got a letter from Emma this morning, too. I don’t know what hers said. Maybe she’s thinking of coming to Liverpool. I thought I’d write to Emma and—’

  ‘Tell her I’ve been ill and to leave meeting up in Liverpool for now,’ said Betty, her fingers crushing the envelope.

  ‘OK.’ Dorothy stood up. ‘Is there anything I can get you?’

  ‘No, thank you.’

  Dorothy left the bedroom.

  Immediately the door closed Betty sat up, and as she did so she felt a rush of blood soak the sanitary towel. For weeks she had wanted to scream and smash everything in the room but she had kept her emotions rigidly under control. It was him, him, his fault and she hated him! She rested her head against the pillows, tore open the envelope and took out Emma’s letter.

  Dear Betty,

  Are you all right? I’ve had this feeling lately that something is wrong. Perhaps you are worried about exams or something else that you feel that you can’t talk to your Liverpool family about.

  Betty was astonished by her half-sister’s perception and felt a rush of affection for her. How could she have known that she was in such a state? She hadn’t said a word to anyone about that filthy swine’s behaviour. He had hit and threatened her, raped her and boasted that her aunt wouldn’t believe her if she told her what he had done. After the way she had gone on about the lads at the Gianellis’ musical evenings, Betty could believe that her aunt would never accept that her husband was responsible for her condition. She had wanted to tell someone but had felt so dirty and besmirched by what he had done that she had simply wanted to pretend it had not happened.

  Her eyes were suddenly wet with tears. She had been stunned to learn that she was most likely having a baby. If the vomiting hadn’t already been enough to cope with, her aunt’s words had caused such an icy chill to seize her that she hadn’t been able to think straight. Then her aunt had confused her by telling her that she had food poisoning and locked her in her bedroom.