EG03 - Home Is Where The Heart Is

by Joan Jonker

  ‘Are yer sure it’s Joyce yer meetin’, and not some feller?’ Eileen asked, jokingly. ‘Yer’ve gone to a lot of trouble with yer appearance just to go out with a girl. There’s enough make-up on yer face to sink a flippin’ ship.’

  ‘I’ve told you, I’m going out with Joyce.’ There was no answering smile on Joan’s pink flushed face. She might have inherited the colour of Eileen’s hair and her hazel eyes, but she certainly hadn’t inherited her sense of humour. It had rubbed off on Billy and Edna, but somewhere along the line it had passed Joan by. ‘Anyway, what difference would it make if I was meeting a boy? I’m eighteen years of age, not a kid.’

  Bill could see Eileen’s hackles rising and stepped in to prevent a row developing. ‘You may be eighteen, young lady, but that doesn’t give you the right to be cheeky to your mother. We’ll have a little respect, if you don’t mind.’

  Joan bounced out to the kitchen and they heard her plate being banged on the draining board in temper. Then she reappeared and marched through the room without a glance at anyone. They heard her footsteps running up the stairs and Eileen clicked her tongue. ‘She’s a bad-tempered little faggot, that one. And selfish into the bargain. Never thinks about anyone but herself. She won’t even wash a cup in case she breaks one of ’er flippin’ nails.’

  ‘All right, chick, don’t get yourself all het up. I know you were only joking about who she was meeting, but Joan obviously didn’t. Just forget it.’

  ‘She wouldn’t know a joke if it jumped up an’ hit ’er in the face,’ Eileen grumbled. ‘The only time yer get a smile out of ’er is when she’s gettin’ her own way.’

  ‘Don’t be worryin’ about her, Mam,’ Billy said. ‘She’s full of herself now, but she’ll grow out of it.’

  ‘Our Billy’s right, Mam.’ A mischievous grin lit up Edna’s face. ‘Did yer notice she’s Veronica Lake today? I wonder who she’ll be tomorrow . . . Joan Crawford or Alice Faye?’

  Maggie chortled. ‘Your mam will never be dead while you’re around, lass.’

  Bill was trying hard to keep his face straight. ‘You shouldn’t be making fun of your sister.’

  ‘Oh, come on, Dad, we’re only acting daft,’ Billy said. ‘Mind you, our Joan is a pain in the neck sometimes.’ He started to collect the dirty plates. ‘Me and Edna will wash the dishes.’ He gave his sister a playful dig. ‘Won’t we, kiddo?’

  ‘No, I’ll do the dishes,’ Eileen said. ‘You two go about yer business.’

  ‘Are you going up to Bray Street, Billy?’ Even as she asked, Edna knew it was a daft question. Billy had been courting Mavis Radford from their old street for three years now, and he spent all his free time up there. Except, of course, for the Saturday afternoons Liverpool were playing at home. ‘If you are, I may as well wait an’ come with you, ’cos I’m goin’ to Janet’s.’

  Edna went upstairs for her coat and when she came down she pulled a face. ‘Our Joan’s got a right gob on her. Didn’t look at me or say a word.’ Edna, at sixteen, was as tall as her sister and very like her in looks. But her body hadn’t filled out yet, and every time she had a bath she inspected herself for signs that her bust was growing. The girls she worked with behind the counter of George Henry Lee’s told her to be patient, that some girls blossomed later than others, but every time she looked down at her flat chest, she doubted they were right.

  ‘What’s she doin’ up there?’ Eileen asked.

  Edna nearly blurted out that her sister was doing what she spent most of her life doing, standing in front of the mirror titivating herself up. But it was no good starting her mam off again. ‘She’s just pottering around.’

  Billy came in then and Eileen eyed him with pride. He looked so handsome in his best suit, his black hair sleeked back with brilliantine. ‘Can I bring Mavis back for tea, Mam?’

  ‘Of course yer can. She’ll ’ave to take pot luck though ’cos I haven’t made a jelly or anythin’ fancy.’

  ‘She won’t worry about that.’ Billy jerked his head at Edna. ‘Come on, Sis, shake a leg.’

  ‘I might stay at Janet’s for me tea,’ Edna said as she followed her brother. ‘But I won’t be late. I’ll be home before it gets dark.’

  ‘Okay, sunshine. Ta-ra!’

  It was half an hour later when Joan came down, her hair and make-up perfect, her perfume pervading the air. ‘I’m having my tea at Joyce’s, Dad. Can I take a key with me, just in case I’m late getting home?’

  ‘We won’t be going to bed till after eleven,’ Bill said. ‘You should be in by then.’

  ‘Oh, I probably will be! But we sit and listen to records in their parlour and the time flies over.’

  Listen to records me eye, Eileen thought. She’s tellin’ lies, but Bill can’t see it. ‘What sort of records d’yer listen to?’ Eileen spoke to Joan’s back.

  ‘Er, em, Frankie Laine and, er, Pat Boone.’

  ‘Oh, I like Frankie Laine.’ Eileen’s voice warned that while Joan might be able to pull the wool over her father’s eyes, she certainly wasn’t fooling her. ‘I’ll ’ave to borrow them sometime.’

  Bill, oblivious to the undercurrent, handed Joan a key. ‘Don’t be too late now, d’you hear?’

  ‘Okay, Dad,’ Joan answered meekly. ‘I won’t be late.’ She reached the door, then without looking back, said, ‘See you later, Mam.’

  Eileen saw Billy grimace and bend down to rub his ankle. She saw him mouth the words, ‘That hurt!’ and Mavis, bending her head until it was on a level with his, mouthed back, ‘Well, tell them, then.’

  ‘Oh, aye!’ Eileen grinned. ‘Tell us what? Come on, Billy, spit it out.’

  Flushing a bright red, Billy gave one last rub to the ankle Mavis had kicked under the table, then grinned back at his Mother. ‘Me and Mavis are getting engaged at Christmas.’

  ‘Well, ’ow about that!’ Eileen pushed her chair back and sprang to her feet. Grabbing Mavis in a bear-like hug, she kissed her cheek. ‘I’m over the moon, love. Welcome to the family.’

  Bill, pride showing on his face, shook hands with Billy. ‘Congratulations, son! I’m very happy for you.’

  Maggie pushed Bill aside and threw her arms round her grandson’s neck. ‘Oh, I am happy, Billy. You couldn’t have picked a better lass.’

  When the excitement had died down, Bill sank into his favourite chair and lit a cigarette. ‘So, you’re getting engaged at Christmas, eh? And when d’you think you’ll be getting married?’

  ‘Why, Dad?’ Billy’s face was flushed with happiness as he sat with Mavis’s hand gripped tightly in his. ‘Are you anxious to get rid of me?’

  ‘Of course he’s not!’ Eileen answered for Bill. ‘He just can’t wait to be a father-in-law, can yer, Bill?’

  ‘I dread you leaving home, son, if you must know.’ There was a glint in Bill’s eyes. ‘Just think, I’ll be the only man in the house, then! I won’t stand a dog’s chance if the women all gang up on me.’

  ‘Ah, God ’elp ’im! Eileen dabbed her eyes and pretended to sob. ‘Let’s all say “aaah” for our Dad. All together now, aaaah!’

  Mavis squeezed Billy’s hand, her shoulders heaving with a fit of the giggles. She couldn’t wait to get married and be one of this family. They were always so happy and Eileen was guaranteed to have you laughing before you had time to sit down. Mavis was an only child and she loved her parents dearly, but it was so quiet in their house compared to the Gillmosses’.

  When Edna came in and was told the news, she shrieked with delight. ‘I’m goin’ to be a bridesmaid, goody goody!’

  ‘Hey, give us a chance, we’re not even engaged yet!’ Billy looked sideways at Mavis and winked. ‘Would you want this ugly duckling to be one of your bridesmaids? She’d probably spoil the weddin’ photographs.’

  Edna spread her elbows on the table. ‘When are yer buying the ring, our Billy?’ Then without waiting for a reply, she asked, ‘Are you gettin’ a solitaire, Mavis? When I get engaged, I’m getting a solitaire.’

 
‘Oh, my God!’ Eileen put a hand over her heart in mock horror. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve got a secret feller hidden somewhere! I couldn’t stand two shocks in one day.’

  ‘Don’t be daft, Mam. You’re not gettin’ rid of me that easy.’ Edna patted her mother’s arm. ‘I know when I’m well off.’

  ‘Well,’ Billy smiled at Mavis with that special look in his eyes of someone in love. ‘Put our Edna out of her misery. Are you getting a solitaire?’

  ‘I don’t mind.’ Mavis blushed. ‘We’ll go together and choose it.’

  Billy’s chest swelled with pride. He was a man now, with responsibilities. ‘We’ll have to pull our horns in and start savin’ like mad, otherwise it’ll be a tanner ring from Woolworths.’

  Rubbing her hands together gleefully, her face creased in a smile of pure bliss, Eileen warned Bill, ‘And you, Bill Gillmoss, ’ad better start workin’ all the hours God sends, if yer get the chance, to save up for the weddin’. ‘Cos when my only son walks down the aisle, I want to be dolled up to the nines.’

  ‘Mam, me and Mavis wouldn’t care if you turned up at the church with curlers in yer hair and an apron on, as long as you turned up.’

  ‘What! An’ give these toffee-nosed snobs round ’ere somethin’ to talk about?’ Eileen shook her head before adopting a haughty pose. ‘As Eliza Doolittle would say, my dear son, “not bloody likely”!’

  Eileen lay on her back staring up at the ceiling. The illuminated clock told her it was turned twelve and she still hadn’t heard Joan come in. All the others were in bed and, like Bill, were probably well away by now. She could hear her husband’s rhythmic breathing and wished she’d been able to drop off as quickly as he had, then she wouldn’t be lying here on pins wondering where Joan had got to.

  Through the silence, Eileen heard the soft click of the key in the lock and she glanced sideways at the fingers on the clock. Twenty past twelve. This was no time for a young girl to be coming home.

  Eileen turned on her side and pulled the clothes over her shoulder. Wait till the morning, she’d give the little madam the length of her tongue. Her ear cocked, Eileen listened for the soft pad of footsteps on the stairs, but there was no sound. For ten minutes she waited, her anger rising. ‘There’ll be no gettin’ her up in the morning,’ she muttered under her breath.

  Slowly, so as not to disturb Bill, Eileen slid out of bed and groped for her dressing gown. She closed the bedroom door quietly behind her and holding on to the banister rail lowered herself gently down each of the stairs. If she woke Bill, he’d come down and there’d be hell to pay. When she reached the bottom stair, a puzzled look crossed her face. There was no sound and no light coming from under the living room door. She leaned back against the wall, telling herself it must have been a noise from outside she’d heard and had mistaken it for a key in the door. She was probably wrong about Joan not being in, too. Here she was calling the poor girl for everything when she was probably tucked up in bed and fast asleep. Eileen was about to pull herself up the first stair when she heard a sound, almost like a whisper. No, she shook her head, it’s my imagination playing tricks on me again. If I keep this up they’ll be carting me off to the looney bin. Then the sound came again, and this time, Eileen knew it wasn’t her imagination.

  As she opened the living room door with one hand, Eileen felt for the light switch with the other. And when the room flooded with light, she saw the couple on the couch disentangling themselves from each other’s arms, surprise and embarrassment written on their faces.

  Eileen took in Joan’s ruffled hair, the smudged lipstick and the dress riding high on her hips. She opened her mouth to give vent to her anger, but just in time remembered the sleeping household and closed the door softly. Then she stood with her hands on her wide hips. ‘What the hell d’yer think you two are up to?’

  ‘Nothing, Mam! Honest, we . . .’

  ‘You keep quiet, young lady, or I won’t be able to keep me hands off yer.’ Eileen turned her wrath on the young man who was blinking fifteen to the dozen, his face a bright crimson. ‘Who the ’ell are you?’

  The youth swallowed hard before stammering, ‘Me name’s Philip Ryan.’

  ‘Oh, it is, is it? Well, Philip Ryan, what ’ave yer got to say for yerself, eh?’ When Philip didn’t answer, Eileen asked, ‘D’yer make a habit of sneakin’ into girls’ ’ouses when their parents are in bed?’

  ‘It’s all my fault, Mam,’ said a tearful Joan. ‘I asked Philip in.’

  ‘I’ll deal with you in the mornin’, my girl,’ Eileen warned. ‘Right now you can get up those stairs.’

  Joan looked from Philip to her mother. ‘But, Mam . . .’

  ‘Do as yer told. I’ll see yer friend out.’

  ‘No, Mam!’ Joan had never felt so humiliated in her life. All the girls were after Philip Ryan but he’d chosen her. Now her mother was making a fool of both of them and he’d never look at her again. ‘Please, Mam!’

  ‘If yer’ve any brains in that thick head of yours, yer’ll do as yer told an’ get up them stairs. An’ if yer wake yer dad, then heaven help yer.’ Eileen opened the door just wide enough for Joan to slip through, then closed it again. She looked Philip up and down until he squirmed with embarrassment. ‘Well, young feller me lad, what ’ave yer got to say for yerself?’

  ‘Joan invited me in and said you wouldn’t mind.’ Philip’s eyes were on his shoes. ‘I’m sorry.’

  He’s telling the truth, Eileen told herself. The poor bugger’s probably terrified. Still, I’m not having those sort of goings on in my house. ‘No matter what Joan said, yer own common sense should ’ave told yer it’s not proper to go into a girl’s house without ’er parents knowin’, an’ sittin’ in the dark snoggin’. Yer not that daft that yer don’t know what I’m gettin’ at, are yer?’

  When Philip shook his head, Eileen asked, ‘Where d’yer live?’

  Terrified the big woman was asking for his address so she could go and see his parents, Philip croaked, ‘Childwall.’

  ‘Then yer’d better be off an’ see if yer can get a bus.’ With a finger to her mouth for him to be quiet, Eileen opened the door. They made not a sound as they crept down the hall, and as Philip stepped down on to the pathway, he’d never been so glad to be out of a house in his life. But Eileen wasn’t finished with him yet and he nearly jumped out of his skin when she grabbed his arm in a vice-like grip.

  ‘Yer know that song about the daring young man on the flying trapeze? The one who floats through the air with the greatest of ease? Well,’ Eileen hissed, ‘if yer ever again pull a trick like yer pulled tonight, yer won’t need to get a bus ’ome, ’cos I’ll kick yer backside so hard yer’ll be flyin’ through the air like that feller on the trapeze. Except it won’t be with the greatest of ease.’ She gave Philip a push. ‘Now, scarper before I test me kickin’ power.’

  As she watched Philip run down the road as though his feet had taken wings, Eileen didn’t know whether to feel sorry for him or angry. It was more Joan’s fault than his, but what might they have got up to if she hadn’t come down when she did?

  As she climbed the stairs, Eileen sighed. Didn’t her daughter realise that no bloke would respect her if she played so easy to get? It wouldn’t have been so bad if Joan had been going out with Philip and the family knew him, but a complete stranger? She needed a good talking to, that young lady, and she’d get it in the morning.

  Bill turned on his side and asked, sleepily, ‘What’s wrong, chick?’

  ‘I’ve only been to spend a penny. Go back to sleep.’

  It was always a rush in the mornings, getting Bill and Billy out to work, then starting breakfast for the two girls. Edna usually left the house before Joan, and Eileen was biding her time until she was alone with her wayward daughter, who’d avoided her eyes and had barely answered when spoken to. But Joan had other ideas. She had no intention of staying around for the ticking off she knew was coming, so when Edna left for work, Joan followed close on her heels, saying,
‘I’ll walk up the road with you.’

  ‘The cute little faggot.’ Eileen spoke to the empty room as she cleared the breakfast dishes. ‘But if she thinks she’s gettin’ away with it, she’s got another think comin’. Just wait till tonight, she’ll get a piece of me mind.’

  But as the day wore on and Eileen had time to think it all through, she wondered if it wouldn’t be wiser to let the whole matter rest. If Bill heard them arguing and found out what it was about, he’d go mad. He’d be angry with Joan, but he’d be upset too, ’cos he thought the world of his children. They could do no wrong in his eyes.

  In the end, Eileen couldn’t make up her mind what to do and sought her mother’s advice. After telling Maggie in detail about the events of the night before, Eileen asked, ‘What shall I do, Mam? Have a good talk to ’er, or leave it an’ see ’ow she behaves in the future?’

  ‘She deserves a good telling off,’ Maggie said. ‘Fancy bringing a boy in when we were all in bed! And the lies she told, too, saying she was going to her friend’s. I’m surprised at our Joan.’

  ‘I’m not,’ Eileen said with a sigh. ‘She’s different to the other two. They’re like an open book, tell me everythin’. But not Joan, she’s as deep as the ocean. I’ve noticed her changin’ over the years, an’ she’s a right little snob now. Seems to look down ’er nose at us, as though we’re not good enough for ’er. And haven’t yer noticed, Mam, that she never brings any friends ’ome with ’er? Our Edna goes back to Bray Street every week to see her old friends, but Joan’s never been back once.’ Eileen banged the table with her clenched fist. ‘It’s this bloody ’ouse that’s done it! She thinks we’ve gone up in the world now an’ we’re too good for our old neighbours. I feel like knockin’ some sense into ’er.’

  Maggie was thoughtful for a while, then said, ‘I’d leave it be, lass. See how she behaves in future. She probably got the fright of her life last night and it might have taught her a lesson.’

  Eileen managed a smile. ‘I’ve got me doubts about our Joan ’aving learned a lesson, but Philip Ryan certainly did. I bet he wouldn’t touch ’er with a barge pole now.’ The smile turned into a laugh. ‘I can see the funny side of it now, Mam. Yer should ’ave seen ’im runnin’ down the road as though a ghost was after ’im. I wouldn’t be surprised if he ’adn’t wet ’is kecks with fright.’