It Had To Be You

by June Francis

  Dorothy wagered that the queen would be thinking of her father today of all days. It must be a very emotional time for her. She would be sad and excited at the same time and somehow she was going to have to smile, smile and smile for her subjects who’d be cheering like mad when they saw her in a golden coach, wearing a crown.

  As the minutes ticked by, Dorothy was aware that her uncle had entered the room. The chair that had been her father’s had been kept empty for him and that infuriated her. He appeared to be having a joke with one of the women, and even as she watched, he glanced her way and there was dislike in his eyes. She stared at him coolly and then looked away at the television screen.

  The room grew silent as the deep, rich tones of Richard Dimbleby’s commentary did justice to the occasion. Dorothy felt quite emotional as she watched her sovereign taking the solemn oath. Maggie said that it was as good as a play but that the small television screen didn’t give the full spectacle of the occasion. ‘I can’t wait to watch it all over again in colour at the cinema,’ she added.

  As the two sisters handed around cups of tea and biscuits, Dorothy’s thoughts were of her brother and cousin. She knew that Betty and Emma would have been listening to the service on the wireless at Lila’s parents’ house because Emma had written telling her so. Then they would be going to a party in the village. She had told her also that she was writing to Betty’s headmistress and hopefully they could come to some arrangement concerning her exams.

  No doubt Jared would be listening to the service, too. There had been mention of a possible armistice in the newspapers and she was praying her brother would live to see it come about. It would be terrible if he should go and get killed within months of being demobbed.

  After they had finished the tea and biscuits, the neighbours left to make their own preparations for the party and the girls gave Elsie a helping hand. Fortunately the rain had ceased and the red, white and blue roses and streamers of crêpe paper that decorated doorways and gateposts had not been ruined. Chairs and trestle tables were set up in the street. Snowy-white tablecloths were spread over the table tops, and cutlery, dishes and cups put in place. Then came the sandwiches, jellies, cakes, biscuits, meat pies and sausage rolls. They were covered with napkins and tea towels whilst most people went to change into their glad rags.

  Dorothy thought of all the food being eaten throughout Britain and the colonies to celebrate this special occasion, not to mention the drink that would be downed. Uncle Teddy had vanished as soon as there was work to do, but now he reappeared with a couple of other men, bringing a barrel of beer from the local pub. No doubt there would be a few sore heads in the morning, she thought.

  ‘Well, well, well,’ said Teddy, as soon as he had a glass of beer in his hand. His gaze slid over his wife, Dorothy and Maggie. ‘Don’t you all look a picture. I must get a snap of the three of you,’ he said, placing his glass on a table. He produced the Brownie camera that had once belonged to his brother, Owen, and tried to focus.

  ‘Are you having trouble seeing us?’ asked Elsie, who was wearing a new floral-print dress in red, white and blue.

  ‘I bet he’s already had a couple of pints in the pub,’ Maggie murmured to her sister.

  ‘Just bloody keep still,’ ordered Teddy.

  At last the picture was taken and then he thrust the camera in Elsie’s hand and told her to take one of him with the girls. Before they could move away he’d thrust an arm around Dorothy and Maggie’s waists, squeezing them as he did so.

  ‘Don’t do that!’ said Dorothy, pulling away.

  ‘Keep still!’ cried Elsie, and pressed the button that operated the shutter. The girls immediately dragged themselves free and put as much distance between them and their uncle as possible.

  The party was soon in full swing, and after people had eaten their fill and while the tables were being cleared, a piano was brought out of a house.

  First, there was a game of musical chairs for the children to the tune of ‘The Teddy Bears’ Picnic’. After that a great deal of fun was had with a game of Blind Man’s Bluff. Eventually, though, mothers took their young ones to bed and the pianist began to play dance music.

  Determined to see what was happening in Irene Miller’s street, Maggie slipped away unnoticed while her mother was talking to a neighbour and Dorothy was dancing with a young man she had known since they had moved to Litherland. Suddenly, Dorothy became aware that she was being watched by a tall, fair-haired young man. He seemed vaguely familiar, but she only realised when the music stopped and he came over and tapped her partner on the shoulder and asked if he could butt in, that it was Dougie Marshall.

  He really was extremely tall and she had to tilt back her head to see his face clearly in the twilight. She felt a tremor go through her as their eyes met. Then the pianist struck up a polka and Dougie’s arm went round her waist. He clasped her left hand and they were off. She had always enjoyed the polka, considering it one of the most lively and exciting dances she had ever learnt. She could hear him humming to the music as he whirled her round and she found herself laughing with the sheer joy of the moment.

  It wasn’t until the dance ended and the pianist struck up a leisurely waltz that he bent his head and murmured in her ear, ‘That was enjoyable.’

  ‘Yes, it was,’ said Dorothy, smiling. ‘Where did you learn to dance?’

  ‘At the Grafton in West Derby Road,’ he answered. ‘Never had any lessons, just picked it up by watching people and having a go.’

  ‘You must be a natural,’ she said, enjoying being held closer to him as he twirled her around. ‘I had lessons.’

  ‘Lucky you.’

  ‘I like dancing.’ She paused. ‘So why are you here?’

  ‘I went to see Emma and I thought you might like to know that she and Betty appear to be OK.’

  ‘It’s kind of you to come and tell me but she did write and tell me of your visit. She told me that you went to visit Lila’s father, too. Was he able to give you any useful advice on how to help your brother?’

  Dougie nodded slowly. ‘Advice I found difficult to accept, because when Dad didn’t come back from the war, I had to take his place. Mr Ashcroft told me that I need to step back and let Pete do things for himself. It isn’t going to be easy.’

  ‘I can understand how you feel,’ said Dorothy sympathetically. ‘I feel I have to watch out for our Maggie more since Betty ran away.’

  ‘Do you know why she went?’

  Lulled into a sense of well-being by the music, a couple of glasses of port and lemon and their friendly conversation, Dorothy decided to tell him some of it. After all, he was a policeman and must be accustomed to keeping things under wraps. ‘My uncle took to hitting her. I didn’t know anything about it until Emma wrote and told me. Betty spoke to her about it but didn’t feel she could tell Mum.’

  Dougie frowned. ‘This uncle is your mother’s second husband?’

  ‘Yes. He’s over there drinking. The short one,’ said Dorothy.

  Teddy was standing alone, drinking and watching a couple of teenage girls giggling as they tried to learn the dance steps.

  ‘Dad never hit any of us,’ she continued, ‘but Uncle Teddy has a short fuse and is quick to react.’

  ‘Tricky,’ said Dougie, frowning. ‘Now if he was hitting your mother and we were called in to what we refer to as a “domestic”, then I could do something about it. As it is—’

  ‘I wasn’t asking you to do anything,’ said Dorothy hastily. ‘I was just explaining that he’s the reason why our Betty ran away. Once my brother, Jared, comes home things will be different.’

  ‘Jared doing his national service?’

  ‘Yes. I suppose Emma or Betty told you about him.’ She paused. ‘Will you be seeing Emma again soon?’

  He told her about Lila’s father’s model making and how he’d be going up there as soon as Lila got in touch with him. ‘Perhaps you’d like to come with me,’ he suggested.

  ‘I’d like that,�
�� said Dorothy, her eyes shining.

  The music stopped and she felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see her mother standing there. ‘Are you going to introduce me to this young man?’ asked Elsie, looking slightly the worse for drink.

  Dorothy would rather have not, guessing that her mother would give her the third degree about Dougie. Yet she knew that she had no choice without being rude. ‘This is Dougie Marshall, Mum. He’s a policeman.’

  ‘A policeman!’ Elsie looked pleased and held out her hand. ‘Pleasure to meet you, Mr Marshall.’

  ‘Mrs Gregory.’ Dougie inclined his flaxen head as he shook her hand. ‘Your daughter is an excellent dancer.’

  ‘Yes. Her father would be pleased to know that his money wasn’t wasted. I’ve been watching you and your steps match perfectly,’ she said, beaming up at him.

  Dorothy wanted to say Mum, don’t! but at that moment there were calls to the pianist to play the ‘Hokey-cokey’.

  ‘You’re going to join in with this, aren’t you, Mr Marshall?’ asked Elsie, taking his arm.

  ‘Actually, I’ll have to be going,’ said Dougie, tempering his refusal with a smile. ‘I’m on duty very early in the morning and need to get some sleep. I also need to check up on my brothers.’

  Elsie looked disappointed. ‘Well, if you must go. Hopefully we’ll see you again soon.’

  ‘It was nice meeting you, Mrs Gregory,’ he said, before turning to Dorothy. ‘I enjoyed your company. See you again.’

  ‘Yes, Mr Marshall,’ she replied, his smile doing lovely things to her.

  He walked away and mother and daughter watched him go.

  ‘Well!’ exclaimed Elsie. ‘Good-looking, isn’t he? And with a good steady job. Let’s hope he does make the effort to see you again.’

  ‘Yes, Mum,’ said Dorothy, turning away and watching neighbours and friends gathering together in a circle. ‘Come on, let’s join in with the hokey-cokey.’

  ‘Our Maggie could do this,’ said Elsie, glancing about her. ‘Where is she?’

  Dorothy looked around but could see no sign of her sister and neither could she spot Uncle Teddy. Should she be worried? There were plenty of people about, so surely Maggie was safe from him. ‘She’s probably around somewhere.’

  ‘I hope she hasn’t gone to see that Irene Miller,’ said Elsie, taking Dorothy’s hand. ‘Come on or we’ll miss out.’

  Dorothy allowed herself to be persuaded and soon she and her mother were putting their right leg in and their right leg out, in out, in out, shake it all about! After that there was a request for the conga, but there was still no sign of Maggie. Where could she be, and where was Uncle Teddy?

  ‘I’d best be going,’ said Maggie.

  ‘OK!’ said Irene, glancing across at her. ‘Are you sure you’ll be all right on your own?’

  ‘It’s not dark yet and there’s still people about,’ answered Maggie.

  ‘I’ll walk so far with you,’ said a voice out of the dusk. The next moment Pete Marshall limped into view, leaning on two sticks.

  ‘I appreciate the offer, Pete,’ said Maggie in a soft voice, ‘but it is a bit of a way for you to walk.’

  ‘I need the practice,’ he said gruffly. ‘And I didn’t say that I’d walk all the way.’

  ‘So you didn’t.’ Maggie smiled. ‘OK, come on, then.’

  They set off towards Linacre Road and once there turned in the direction of the lift bridge over the canal. ‘Where’s your Norm tonight?’ asked Maggie.

  ‘At the Gianellis’,’ he replied. ‘I said I’d meet him at the bus stop near theirs. Our Dougie is planning on catching the bus with us as well.’

  Maggie nodded, slowing her pace to match his. ‘It’s a wonder Irene wasn’t at the Gianellis’ as well.’

  ‘So she didn’t tell you that her ma insisted on her staying put. Apparently she moaned that she hardly sees anything of her, and as this is a special occasion …’ He raised his shoulders and let them drop.

  ‘I wonder why she didn’t tell me,’ mused Maggie.

  ‘You haven’t long been there, so most likely she didn’t see the need.’

  They crossed the bridge and had just got to the other side when an unwelcome voice said, ‘So there you are, Maggie! What the hell d’you think you’re playing at, going off without telling anyone where you’re going?’ And her Uncle Teddy hovered into view.

  Maggie found herself reaching for Pete’s arm. ‘There’s no need for you to come looking for me, Uncle Teddy,’ she said, a tremor in her voice. ‘I’ve only been away a short time and I’m on my way back now.’

  ‘Don’t give me that rubbish,’ snapped Teddy, thrusting his head forward. ‘I can see you’ve a lad with you. You can tell him to bugger off.’

  Maggie clung to Pete’s arm. ‘No! You’re drunk, Uncle Teddy! Why don’t you just go back to Mum, before she starts missing you?’

  ‘No, you’re coming with me!’ snarled Teddy, grabbing hold of Maggie’s free arm.

  ‘Pete, don’t let him take me!’ she cried, hanging on to the youth.

  Teddy tried to drag her away, but not only did Maggie hang on to Pete but he also dropped one of his sticks and kept hold of her. ‘Listen, mate, you’ll have the three of us over if you carry on the way you are,’ said Pete, struggling to stay upright.

  ‘Bugger off,’ said Teddy, thrusting his free hand into Pete’s chest.

  The lad lost his balance and went down, pulling Maggie to the ground with him. She managed to kneel up, intending helping Pete to his feet, but her uncle seized her by the hair and yanked Maggie upright. She screamed.

  ‘What’s going on here? Is that you, Pete?’ asked Dougie, appearing out of the gloom.

  ‘Never mind me,’ gasped Pete. ‘Stop him from hurting her!’

  Dougie glanced up and recognised the man that Dorothy had pointed out to him. He was dragging a screaming teenage girl along the road. Instantly, Dougie went after them and seized Teddy by the shoulder.

  He brought him to an abrupt halt and forced him to let go of Maggie’s hair. Teddy took a swing at him but his fist barely grazed Dougie’s chest, and as Maggie collapsed to the ground, Dougie grabbed a handful of Teddy’s jacket and lifted him off his feet. Beer and whisky fumes wafted into Dougie’s face. ‘I’m arresting you for being drunk and disorderly,’ he said, ‘and I’m taking you to the station.’

  Teddy swore at him and Dougie brought up his fist and gave him a swift uppercut and he collapsed like a deflated balloon. Dougie turned and looked down at the two teenagers struggling to get to their feet. ‘Get yourself to the bus stop, Pete,’ he ordered. ‘Norm should be there by now.’

  The skin about Pete’s mouth was white and he was obviously in pain. ‘I’ll go with him,’ gasped Maggie, staring at Dougie. ‘Thanks.’

  He nodded and hoisted Teddy over his shoulder and made off at a run. Maggie picked up Pete’s sticks and handed them to him. ‘So that’s your big brother,’ she said. ‘Gosh, he’s not half strong.’

  Pete said nothing but sought a secure hold on his sticks. She guessed from his expression that he was feeling angry and embarrassed by what had happened. She felt really sorry for him. ‘I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t been with me,’ she said.

  ‘You don’t have to soft-soap me,’ muttered Pete.

  She fell silent, walking alongside him, and now she began to shake inwardly. They reached the bus stop where Norm was waiting, talking to a youth whom Maggie recognised as Tonio Gianelli. She paused only a moment to say ‘ciao’ and ‘ta-ra’ and then she took off at a run, barely able to believe that she had been rescued in the nick of time and that her uncle was on his way to jail. He was going to be hopping mad when he woke up in a cell with a sore jaw and a terrible hangover.

  She found her sister and mother dancing the conga with a line of people up the middle of their road and so she collapsed onto a chair to get her breath back and to wait until the dance eventually came to an end. She waved to her sister and saw the re
lief in Dorothy’s face.

  ‘You haven’t been there all the time,’ she whispered, collapsing beside her.

  ‘Tell you later,’ said Maggie, watching her mother stagger across the pavement to their house. She stood up. ‘Come on, Dot, we’d best follow her in. I want my bed and I’ve something to tell you about Uncle Teddy that you just have to put in a letter to Emma and Betty. They’ll be made up.’

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Elsie stared down at the letter from Betty’s headmistress and knew she must not get annoyed with Emma or her niece for writing to the woman. But she’d had enough to contend with lately, having listened to Maggie’s tale of Teddy’s attack on her and the crippled brother of that nice-looking policeman who had danced with Dorothy. Then she’d had to cope with Teddy and his massive hangover, after his being let out of jail, and listen to his excuses. They hadn’t satisfied her but she hadn’t said so because she’d had to go to work. It wasn’t until she had returned home later in the day to find him slumped in the armchair that they’d had the row. Yet she had been unable to bring herself to accuse him of raping her niece, scared that he might become even more violent. She fingered the bruise beneath her collarbone where he had gripped her and forced her down into a chair. She had not slept with him but spent the night on the sofa, thinking through what she must do. Now, here was this letter from the headmistress that must be dealt with right away.

  She came to a decision and checked the contents of her purse and would have sworn there was ten shillings less than there had been last night. No doubt Teddy had taken it, but as he had already left the house, she could not ask him. She made sure she had her bank book in her handbag and, shoving writing pad and a couple of envelopes and fountain pen inside its capacious interior, along with her purse, she hurried out.

  Emma picked up two envelopes from the doormat. She slit open the one that had her name typed on the envelope. On discovering it was from the headmistress of Betty’s school, she read it through swiftly and then she tore open the other envelope. A postal order fell out as she opened the single sheet of paper. She picked up the order and saw to her amazement that it was for twenty pounds. Placing it on the table, she read the letter with growing incredulity.