May had set her sights on Billy Buckley when they were both still at school. Though she’d idolised and fantasised about a future with him, she never believed such a miracle could happen.
Billy had had the pick of girls at school – and the talk was always about him behind the toilets in the schoolyard. He was the worst flirt and conceited with it, too.
‘I’ll see if I can fit you in,’ he told a smitten lass.
He would consult a little black book he kept in his jacket pocket. With a lot of page-turning, and a look of concentration, he’d condescend to make a date with the besotted lass, much to the envy of her mates watching on.
‘Mind, you’re not the only one…’ he’d impudently say. ‘I’ve got other fish to fry. Just so’s you know and I’m not accused of being a two-timing cad.’
This kind of behaviour was tolerated because where Billy was concerned, a girl lost her pride.
The reason May didn’t go out with Billy wasn’t because she had scruples, but because Billy never showed any interest in her. Shy and skinny with colt-like legs, she adored him from afar, and all through her schooldays, she’d have sworn Billy didn’t know she existed.
When May left school and started work, Billy became a lingering memory. She had no qualifications, so when Aunt Ramona offered her a position as her parlour maid, May leapt at the chance.
Her mother was horrified. ‘That sister of mine is just a jumped-up hussy, who thinks because she’s married an undertaker she’s a cut above everybody else.’ She looked sorrowfully at her daughter. ‘Our May, I want you to make something of your life and not end up a skivvy like me.’
May tried to explain that she didn’t have the same confidence as Mam and a job with Aunt Ramona was better than nothing.
A month after her seventeenth birthday, on a wet and blustery December day, May hurried home from the marketplace. It was her afternoon off from work and she carried a brown paper bag filled with shopping from the market stalls; two second-hand romantic novels for her mother, whelks for her father and sherbet lemon sweets for Mr Grayson.
As she hurried along the road, hordes of workmen swarmed through Redhead’s shipyard gates. Then she saw him – Billy Buckley. He walked along the pavement towards her, two other workmen at his side, wearing a worn navy suit and a cloth cap. May would have known him anywhere. He was stocky built, with the same swagger, and blonde hair, though darker now, with a forelock that swept his brow as if he’d fashioned it that way. She stopped in her tracks, unable to believe her eyes. Someone walking behind bumped into her and, overbalancing, she catapulted into the oncoming workmen.
‘Watch out, pet.’ Strong arms steadied her.
May’s head jerked up and she looked straight into the ice-blue eyes of Billy.
‘Why, it’s May Robinson from school.’ Brazenly, he looked her up and down. ‘Man! Have you filled out… and in all the right places.’
All she could think was that he’d remembered her name.
He walked her home and all the while May couldn’t believe it was happening.
She tried to think of something riveting to say, but blurted, ‘My, aren’t you the jammy one… having such a good job?’
What a clot, fancy her coming out with something as daft as that.
‘Aye. If you can call working in a shipyard jammy.’
His answer annoyed her. ‘You should be ashamed Billy Buckley. Most men… especially those that hang around the yard gates every morning, would be over the moon to have any kind of work.’
He grinned. ‘Firstly, I’m not like most men and secondly, you look gorgeous when you’re mad.’
Thrown, May gabbled. ‘Did you get an apprenticeship?’
‘Aye, as a fitter.’
‘Your mam must be proud.’
‘With me dad out of work we needed the money.’ His face became serious and May reckoned she’d never seen this sober side of Billy before. He went up in her estimation. He wasn’t just looking for ‘a piece of skirt’ after all. Billy had family he cared about.
Presently they came to the foot of the stone steps leading to May’s doorway.
The rain started, the drizzly kind that felt like mist on your skin, but May didn’t mind. She could have stood all day ogling at Billy’s handsome face.
‘D’you want to come out with us?’ he asked.
She almost swooned. How many times had she dreamt that Billy Buckley would say those very words?
She nodded, too overwhelmed to speak.
He pulled up the collar of his shabby jacket. ‘I’ll call for yi’ the morra night.’
‘D’you not have to check in your little black book?’
‘Are you poking fun at us?’
Conscience-stricken that she’d stepped over the mark, she replied, ‘Eee I would never.’
‘I’m only joking,’ he laughed. ‘I’ll call for you at seven the morra’.’
As she watched him prepare to leave, she plucked up courage to say, ‘You never bothered with me at school.’
He turned and walked away. His voice came over his shoulder with a laugh in it.
‘I had bigger fish to fry, then.’
May giggled.
One thing Billy was not, was shy, and when he visited the house, he’d make straight for the kitchen and hail May’s mother as if he’d known her for years. She, in turn would don a clean pinny, make fresh scones and check her appearance in the hall mirror. Her face lit up whenever he spoke and she hung on to his every word.
That was Billy for you, he had this magnetic charm that affected women – they visibly illuminated whenever he entered a room.
May walked out with Billy for four months. She was thrilled, feeling sure that one day soon he’d ask if they could become officially a courting couple.
Then one dark April evening, after the couple had kissed goodnight outside May’s front door, she went indoors to find her mother waiting at the kitchen table.
‘Sit down, our May.’ Mam lifted the heavy china teapot and poured her daughter a cup of tea. ‘We need to talk.’
‘What’s wrong?’
‘I want you to be careful, lass… he’s a right Jack the Lad, is that one.’
‘Who, Billy?’
‘I divvent trust the lad.’
‘I thought you liked him.’
‘I do, hinny, that’s the point. I’ve met his type before.’ Mam took a sip of tea, her troubled eyes never leaving May’s face. ‘I hope you’re behaving. I don’t want you doin’ anythin’… silly.’
‘Silly?’
Mam gave her a measured look.
‘You know what I mean. That lad’s a patter merchant and a bit of hanky-panky is all he’s after.’
‘Mam!’
‘I’m warnin’ you for your own good. Lads like him are only after one thing and they lose respect when a lass gives in.’
May put her cup on the table and stood up. Rarely did she disagree with her mother but on this occasion she was wrong. She wouldn’t stand by and listen to Billy being criticised. ‘How can you be so judgemental? You don’t know Billy like I do.’
The next Sunday, Billy and May took a ride on their bicycles out of town to Cleadon Hills. It was a warm spring day and white marshmallow clouds hung in a paint-box blue sky. The air at the top of the hills was soft and energising, and May, overcome with a sense of freedom, had a rare moment of belief that, if she put her mind to it, anything could be achieved.
They found a spot at the foot of a knoll, hidden from view. May lay in the long grass and listened to birds twittering in the trees. Billy stretched beside her, his body warm against her skin.
Resting his head on her chest he told her, ‘I’ll go crackers if I don’t talk to somebody,’ he upturned his face to hers, ‘and you’re such a good listener.’
His voice was low as he spoke of his family; May had to bend her head to catch his words. He told her how his father had gone to pieces now he was out of work, how his mother was at her wits end trying to make
ends meet and how his sister was broken-hearted because her once loving parents did nothing but squabble.
‘That’s terrible, Billy. How about you?’
‘I hate me job but I have to graft at the shipyard as somebody’s got to bring the money in.’ His face looked bleak. ‘If I had a choice I’d travel the world.’
‘Wouldn’t you miss home?’ May asked.
‘Not this dump.’
‘Wouldn’t you miss anyone?’ she fished.
‘Me family, of course… and you.’
Billy’s indolent blue eyes probed hers and she knew why lasses found him irresistible – though, for the life of her, May couldn’t put it into words. Peggy Daly, her old school mate, had tried.
‘It’s something to do with his chemistry,’ she said. ‘Some lads have it and some don’t. Billy oozes it.’
Too deep for May, all she knew was that she ached for the love of him – and if she couldn’t have him then she didn’t want any other lad. Her mind was made up on the matter.
Billy looked at her and groaned. ‘You know you drive me wild?’
May regarded his chiselled features, his piercing blue eyes, the dimple in his chin –and her heart twisted. She felt the urge to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. She – May Robinson – was driving Billy Buckley wild.
He took her hand. ‘Here, feel this.’
He unbuttoned his jacket and she saw he wore no waistcoat, just braces over his shirt. As he pressed her hand against his groin, her eyes grew huge. She’d never imagined it would be so big and hard. She knew she should snatch her hand away or, at the very least, show shame, but she was on fire and hungered for Billy’s touch. Yet her upbringing proved too strong. For ingrained in May, like lettering in rock, was the fact that no decent lass would go the whole way before they were married.
She snatched her hand away.
‘See what you’ve done?’ Billy looked helplessly at the rise in his trousers. ‘I’m in agony.’
Then he was astride her, sinewy legs pinning her down.
He bent over her, his eyes meeting hers and his husky voice whispered, ‘I can’t stand it any longer… I want you.’ He sat up, his face tragic. ‘You can’t love me or you wouldn’t put me through this… torture.’
Can’t love him – dear Lord – if needs be she’d walk on hot coals for him.
‘Are you frightened, is that it? I’ll be gentle.’
If only there was some other way she could prove her love, but seeing the demand in his eyes, May knew there wasn’t.
His hand moved under her skirt.
‘Aw… come on, May,’ he pleaded. ‘You know I love you… it’s only natural. I can’t wait.’
May’s heart soared. He’d said the words she longed to hear.
The next day May helped her mother change the lodgers’ beds.
Mam, flapping the laundered sheet over the bed, told May, ‘I know I go on but I can’t help worrying about you and that lad.’ When May didn’t answer she went on, ‘I suppose you think the right lass will change Billy.’
May shrugged. She caught the sheet and tucked it under her side of the mattress.
‘And I suppose, our May, you think you’re that lass?’
May did but couldn’t think what to say.
Her mother gave her a troubled look. ‘Such is the foolery of love… all I ask, pet, is you be careful what you get up to… save yourself a lot of heartache.’
May didn’t say the warning had come too late.
May didn’t hear from Billy. As the days passed, she began to worry. Agonised, she didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t believe Billy would simply walk out of her life. She tortured herself that her mother was right and that he’d lost all respect for her.
‘Where’s that lad of yours, these days?’ Mam asked one day as May came home from work. ‘I’ve not seen a sign of him in two weeks.’ Suspicion was written on her face.
From her neck to her cheeks, May flushed red. What could she say?
‘He’s gone, hasn’t he?’ Mam folded her arms, ‘I telt you the lad was flighty.’
May thought of going to see Billy in Laygate Lane where he lived, but what if his mother came to the door? May could hardly ask, ‘Why’s your Billy not seeing me any more?’
If Billy answered her knock, would May really beg him to start up with her again? No, she had too much pride, even if she did love Billy to distraction.
Weeks turned into months and as May’s heart pined for Billy, she couldn’t eat or sleep.
One June morning, feeling queasy, she raced to the lavatory down the yard, where she was violently sick. When this became a regular morning event, May was convinced that her yearning for Billy had caused the problem.
‘When did you last have your do-dahs?’ her mother asked after May had had another session in the lavatory.
‘Do-dahs?’ May asked, mystified.
‘Your monthly… thingy.’
May cottoned on. She didn’t have a clue when she’d last had a period. She didn’t keep check but it must have been months ag––
She looked at Mam in horror.
‘Yes, our May. I’d say by the evidence you’re ganna have a bairn.’
When she missed her third menstruation, May realised it really was true. She was pregnant.
Her mother didn’t flap or rant. She simply said, ‘There’ll be no seeing the doctor. Tis best, our May, that we keep this in the family and yi’ have this bairn at home.’ She sighed as if she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. ‘Folk around these parts are unforgiving about such matters – hypocrites that they are – and having a child out of wedlock could ruin your life.’ Mam gasped a breath. ‘Tis best, if we say this bairn your carryin’ is mine.’
Such was her shame, May didn’t argue. Besides, she reasoned, her mother always knew best.
Her father viewed things differently. ‘A slut, me daughters become… I want her out of this house.’
Flint-eyed, his wife told him, ‘She’ll do no such thing. You’ve driven away your sons, I won’t have you doing the same thing with our May.’ Folding her arms, her eyes locked with his. ‘I’m warning you, Ernie Robinson, you’d be wise not to cross me on this.’
He never mentioned May’s pregnancy again but he never called her ‘me little angel’ again, either.
May’s employer, Ramona Newman, was informed that May’s help was needed at home.
‘Won’t Aunt Ramona be suspicious?’ she asked.
‘Miss high and mighty…’ her mother said of her sister, ‘is too wrapped up in her own affairs to be bothered with the likes of us.’
The subject was closed.
May’s time arrived the next January, when her mother delivered the bairn in the attic bedroom and if any of the lodgers heard May’s cries, they thought better than to mention it.
True to her word, her mother took Derek as her own. She understood, though, when May’s arms ached to hold him.
‘You can’t, pet,’ her voice was laden with regret. ‘If this is to work, Derek must come to recognise me as his Mam.’
It was as if someone stabbed her in the heart. May doubted she could go through with the plan but what other option had she? For Derek’s sake, she made up her mind that she’d conceal her feelings. If he cried during the night, or wanted a kiss better when he fell ill, she recognised that Mam was the one he needed and his big sister would never do. Derek’s welfare was paramount and just to be near him would have to suffice. Cute little lad that he was, her heart soared with pride as she watched him thrive but that didn’t stop the gut-wrenching turmoil May experienced inside.
Three years passed and in all that time May didn’t hear a word from Billy but the gossip was he’d taken up with her old school mate, Peggy Daly. One crisp spring day, May stood on her top step polishing the brasses on the front door.
‘Yoo hoo!’ A voice called from below. ‘Long time no see.’
May turned and was staggered to see Peggy Da
ly loitering at the foot of the steps. She wore a tailored suit with square shoulders and slim skirt that ended below the knee. The outfit was completed with a broad brimmed Easter bonnet.
Peggy had a lad in tow but he wasn’t Billy.
May’s hair was a mess, she wore a wraparound housedress, and her hands were blackened with metal polish. She was certain she had dirty smudges on her face.
Peggy linked arms possessively with the lad. ‘You remember Melvyn? He was in the same year as us at school.’
‘Hello Melvyn.’ May remembered he used to be the school bully.
He grunted.
‘Melvyn and me got engaged.’ Proudly, Peggy held out her left hand.
May skipped down the steps to look at the proffered ring. ‘Why, it’s lovely,’ she said of the tiny, solitaire diamond.
Peggy gazed adoringly up at her fiancé. ‘Melvyn’s in the Territorial army. He’s off to summer camp in August. The week after he gets back we’re due to get hitched.’
‘Congratulations. It’s not long to wait.’
Peggy laughed. ‘Tell that to me Mam. She’s making the wedding dress… and the two bridesmaids’.’
May marvelled at the dexterity of Peggy’s mother.
As the couple made to move off, May plucked up the courage to ask, ‘Have you heard anything lately of Billy Buckley?’
Peggy flushed to the roots of her hair. ‘Not in an age.’
‘Does he still work at Redhead’s?’
‘How would I know? Last I heard,’ she gave Melvyn a nervous glance, ‘which was long over a year ago, he was seeing a woman from Jarrow. An older woman by all accounts.’ She sniffed. ‘You know Billy. He’s fickle. Goodness knows who he’s got in tow now.’
Pulling an ‘I’m fed up face’ Melvyn tugged impatiently at her arm. ‘Haway, we can’t stand here gossipin’ all day.’
‘See you… bye,’ Peggy said as her fiancé hauled her away.
After her meeting with Peggy, the need to see Billy grew in May like a sickness. She made up her mind. She’d seek him out and perhaps then the madness that afflicted her would go away. She took to hanging around Redhead’s shipyard, watching as hundreds of men swarmed out of the gates at closing time. She felt no guilt or shame and ignored the smutty remarks from the younger lads. Her behaviour was improper for a decent lass, May knew, but she stood her ground in the hope of glimpsing Billy.
The Orphan Sisters: An Utterly Heartbreaking and Gripping World War 2 Historical Novel Page 9