by Katie Flynn
Snowy grinned. ‘Any Liverpudlian would tell you that there’s nothing you can’t get on Paddy’s Market,’ he announced. ‘Follow me!’
The two boys had a successful morning and were getting along like old friends when, at a quarter to one, Jonty begged to be directed to Church Street, so that he might meet Tess and find out whether she now had yet another job.
‘We’re going to have lunch at Lyons Corner House,’ he disclosed. ‘That is, if the interview’s over by then. If not I’ll hang about for a bit; I suppose I might walk up towards Love Lane and hope to meet her, but it’s a bit risky; chances are we’ll miss one another.’
‘Right. Then we turn left here and keep going for a bit and at the next junction turn right,’ Snowy said instructively. He dug a hand into his pocket and examined his loose change. ‘Tell you what, if Tess doesn’t show, you and I can have a bite of lunch together. Of course, if Tess does turn up then I’ll make myself scarce, two being company and three a crowd.’
‘Oh, I’m sure Tess won’t care if she meets two lads instead of one,’ Jonty assured him. As they strode towards Church Street he glanced across at Snowy. ‘I remember Tess telling me something about a falling out she’d had with you, two or three years ago. Don’t say you still bear a grudge.’
‘Course not!’ Snowy said stoutly, but Jonty saw a betraying flush creep up his cheeks. ‘It was just . . . Oh, hell! The truth is, Jonty, that I behaved bloody badly. I had this girl, you see, Marilyn Thomas . . .’ He whistled softly. ‘Wharra smasher, as we say in these parts . . .’
He went on to explain what had happened and at the end of the recital they had reached Lyons Corner House and stopped outside, eyeing the hurrying crowds, many of whom pushed past them to enter the restaurant. Once, customers had been served by little waitresses known as Nippies, but since the war Lyons had become self-service. Jonty eyed the hurrying crowd but failed to pick Tess out until she was on top of them, flinging her arms round his neck in an exuberant hug. ‘Got it!’ she said exultantly. ‘I start next Monday and work from seven in the morning until seven in the evening for a month. After that I’ll be back at school, of course, but they’ll want me then from five until seven. The money’s not marvellous, but at least it will be regular.’ She tugged at his arm. ‘Come on, I’ll pay for your lunch, since I’ll soon be earning, but I’m afraid it’ll just have to be soup and a crusty roll. Oh, how I love those crusty rolls . . .’ She broke off, having apparently seen Snowy for the first time. ‘Well, what a coincidence,’ she said drily. ‘Fancy seeing you, Snowy White. Are you about to get yourself a meal? Because if so—’
Jonty, feeling thoroughly embarrassed, interrupted. ‘I met Snowy earlier in the day when I was searching for the overhead railway,’ he said. ‘He very kindly looked at my list of attractions and took me in hand. I wouldn’t have seen the half if it hadn’t been for him, and you should see the slippers I bought for Ma! Well, you will see them, as soon as we get back to Mr Payne’s. And in the meantime the three of us might as well eat together; indeed, since I can’t see a single table free, we’ll be lucky if we only share with each other and not with some grumpy old fellow so eager to get his grub inside him that he’s splashing gravy all over the place.’
Tess gave a reluctant smile: this had happened to her and Jonty on their previous visit to the Corner House, and she quite saw his point. ‘Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t,’ she quoted airily, giving Snowy a rather doubtful smile. ‘Come on then, let’s join the queue at the counter. Grab a tray, fellers.’
Albert was cashing up early since he and Tess wanted to be at the hospital in good time. Now that Edie was on an ordinary ward, visiting hours were restricted and they were only allowed to spend one hour with her. Today they needed every minute of that hour, because Tess would want to describe her interview and Albert, who had popped into Deering’s in his lunch hour, had a great many goodwill messages from the staff to pass on. Also, he had cooked an old favourite of his wife’s – Woolton pie – which he meant to serve to himself and his young friends before they set off for the hospital. He had never before attempted baking, but Tess had left him with a ball of made-up pastry and a list of instructions, and when he had put the pie in the oven he was really pleased with his efforts. As his wife’s recipe had instructed, he had steamed a quantity of vegetables – carrots, broad beans, peas and turnip – for twenty minutes. Then he had thickened the vegetable water with cornflour. Rolling out the pastry had been easy, and lining the pie dish with it had pleased him. He thought of how he would surprise Edie with his cooking skills when she came out of hospital, and now, having finished cashing up, he locked the shop door and went up to the flat to check that the pie was ready.
He opened the oven door with great caution and lifted it out, standing it on the kitchen table. He was just beginning to congratulate himself on its golden perfection when there was a sharp rap on the kitchen door and Jonty and Tess came in. Tess was smiling. ‘I got the job!’ she said. ‘Oh, and Snowy’s downstairs. I told him to wait. He’s been very good to Jonty, taking him round most of the places he thought he ought to see, so I wondered if you might ask him to share our supper. He’s bought Gran a little present, and would like to come up to the hospital with us for evening visiting. It seemed a bit harsh to tell him he could but we were going to have supper without him first.’ She stared at the pie. ‘I say, you’ve made a good job of that, Albert. Just wait till Gran comes out of hospital; she’ll be that impressed!’ Albert looked rather doubtfully at the golden-crusted Woolton pie, then drew imaginary lines from top to bottom and from side to side and smiled to himself. Yes, it would do very well for four people. He had already scrubbed a panful of potatoes and put them over the flame, so he turned to Tess, nodding his head. ‘How nice that you and Snowy are friends again,’ he said. ‘Run down and tell him he’s very welcome to share our supper.’
So presently the four of them settled down to enjoy the fruits of Albert’s labours, chatting merrily as they did so. ‘Are you sure your parents won’t worry?’ Tess asked Snowy, as they began to eat. ‘I know Gran always got in an awful stew if I was late back from school.’
‘I don’t think they’d have worried, but just in case, I telephoned from the box on the corner,’ Snowy said. He grinned at Jonty. ‘Yes, we are on the telephone, which no doubt makes us landed gentry so far as you’re concerned.’
Jonty grinned too, then turned to Tess who was staring at him, clearly baffled by the remark. ‘When we met this morning Snowy accused me of being landed gentry,’ he explained. ‘But we know each other pretty well now so we don’t need to swap insults.’
The meal was a great success and afterwards the four of them set off for the hospital, arriving just as visiting started, and if Snowy was taken aback by the sight of Gran looking so pale and wan he hid his surprise very well.
‘Poor Mrs Williams, haven’t you had a horrid time,’ he said, eyeing her bandages and the injured leg in its plaster cast. ‘It’ll be a while before they let you out of this place.’ He plunged a hand into his pocket and produced a square package which he handed to the patient. ‘There you are! Lavender water and scented soap; Jonty said they were the sort of things any woman would like, so I hope he’s right.’ He grinned as she exclaimed with pleasure, unwrapping the brown paper to reveal his gifts. ‘What’s the grub like in here?’
Albert and Tess knew from experience that Gran found talking tiring, so they let her chatter away for the first ten minutes, and then, at an almost imperceptible nod from Albert, Tess began a spirited and probably apocryphal account of her interview. Gran lay back against her pillows and smiled and smiled as Jonty and Snowy told next of their own shopping experiences, and at the end of their recital Albert took over. He described every step in the creation of a Woolton pie, and Gran laughed until tears ran down her cheeks. She mopped them away merrily, however, saying that when she came out of hospital Albert should have the honour of cooking her first meal of freedom, as s
he called it, and she very much hoped that he would make her a Woolton pie just as beautiful as the one he had described.
Albert promised to do so and was just elaborating on the recipe which, by then, he would have learned to follow when the bell sounded and a tall, stern-looking nurse came to turn them out of the ward.
They walked home, Tess with Albert and the two boys following behind, but when they reached Albert’s shop and Tess would have said goodbye and thanks to Snowy, Jonty cut across her. ‘Hang on a minute,’ he said urgently. ‘Snowy and I have been talking and we believe there’s a problem which should be discussed.’ He turned to the older man. ‘Can we come up to your flat, Albert, and have a parley?’
‘Course you can; I was just about to suggest it,’ Albert said heartily, if untruthfully. ‘Tess will make us some cocoa and I bought some ginger snaps and shortbread biscuits whilst I was at Deering’s.’ He produced his key and ushered them all into the flat, Tess leading the way. Albert, locking up again, thought what a fortunate thing it was that he had bought those biscuits. He didn’t suppose that the boys’ ‘problem’ would be anything important, so the sooner they drank up their cocoa and ate their biscuits the sooner he would be able to get to his own bed. But once seated at the kitchen table with mugs of cocoa and a plate of biscuits before them, he realised that he had wronged the lads.
Snowy looked carefully round the table, making sure that he had everyone’s attention, and then spoke sombrely. ‘I’m awful sorry to put the cat amongst the pigeons, but I don’t believe you’ve realised what it will mean to your finances, Tess, to have Mrs Williams unable to work, for months. She’ll be able to walk with crutches for the three months it will take her leg to heal, but that wrist! You told me yourself, Jonty, that Albert said it was very nearly severed, and unless I’m much mistaken that may mean that she can never use it properly again. And the same goes for her shoulder. It doesn’t take an expert or a doctor to read the pain on her face when she has to move her left arm even a little bit. And she’s a baker! I can’t see her pummelling dough or rolling out pastry or even icing cakes the way she’s always done. So she must either get a very different sort of job – when she’s well enough to work at all, that is – or Tess will have to give up the thought of getting her Higher and going to university, and stay here at home, looking after her.’
There was an appalled silence. It had clearly never occurred to either Albert or Tess that Edie’s injuries were such that she might never take up her old job again. But having been forced to realise the truth, Albert cleared his throat and reached across the table to pat Tess’s hand. ‘We’ll find a way, queen,’ he said huskily. ‘All along, Edie has said that your education is the most important thing in her life. She says you’ll be the first person in her family to go to university, and she’s determined you should have your chance.’ He smiled rather shyly round the assembled company. ‘Well, this forces my hand. I shall simply have to get that ice cream parlour going, because even if she can’t do much else Edie will be able to sit behind the counter, tell the girls what to do, take the money and give change.’
‘But Albert, the whole point of the ice cream parlour was that you were going to set it up together,’ Tess pointed out. ‘You can’t be in two places at once, and all the buying of equipment, finding wholesalers to sell you ice cream and fizzy pop, getting staff you can trust . . . honest to God, it’ll be beyond Gran’s capabilities for months and months. I can’t believe she’ll never work again, but I can believe that it will be a long while before she can cope, and a new venture . . . Oh, Albert, I know you mean well, but I think it’s out of the question.’
Snowy cleared his throat, then turned to Tess. ‘You’ve got a job, albeit only for a month, this very day,’ he pointed out. ‘That shows you are employable, because if the factory wants you so will other people. I’m all in favour of you getting your Higher, but I don’t believe you’ll be able to do so for a year or two. After all, I remember you telling me that your gran had stepped into the breach when they couldn’t find any other relative to take you on . . .’ Albert saw Snowy’s hands tighten on Tess’s shoulders and realised that Jonty had noticed too, and had given a little nod.
Snowy continued, almost as though he had waited for Jonty’s approval before he spoke. ‘Tess, you told me once that if it hadn’t been for your gran you would have had to go into a children’s home, so you owe Mrs Williams a good deal. It’s not everyone of her age who would offer to bring up a child, even if they were related, so now that the positions are reversed it’s your chance to return the favour.’
‘I’ll be glad to do so,’ Tess said eagerly, ‘but will I be able to earn enough to rent a place and pay all our expenses? Girls of my age usually have parents . . .’
‘Edie may have an insurance policy,’ Albert said. ‘And she’ll obviously get sickness benefit. I don’t know about her pension, but I won’t have her worrying. Edie has no need, as yet, to face up to such problems . . .’
Tess pulled a face. ‘I’ll speak to my teachers about deferring,’ she said. ‘Oh! I’ve had an idea. Gran keeps a folder full of such things as insurance policies in the right-hand dresser drawer.’ She jumped to her feet as she spoke and hurried across Albert’s kitchen. ‘I’ll just go and fetch the folder; then we will have a much better idea of Gran’s finances.’
Albert began to nod his agreement, but then he changed his mind. None of the three young people present knew that Gran had any secrets, but he knew, and he had no idea what papers his friend’s folder might contain. He started to tell Tess that there might be private documents in the dresser drawer, but Tess was already descending the stairs. Albert sank back on his chair and looked ruefully from Jonty’s face to Snowy’s. ‘When she brings that folder back, I think we ought to tell her not to open it,’ he said. ‘Everyone’s got a right to a private life and Edie’s no exception. She might not like the three of us knowing all the intimate details of her life, even if they’re mainly financial.’
Jonty looked puzzled, but nodded reluctant agreement and, catching Snowy’s eye, raised his brows. ‘Should Snowy and I make ourselves scarce, go for a walk round the block or something?’ he suggested. ‘Though I’m sure a lovely lady like Mrs Williams would just tell us to go ahead. She doesn’t strike me as the secretive sort, and, after all, if there are insurance policies in that folder, Tess will have to contact the company in order to make a claim on her grandmother’s behalf.’
‘I know what you mean,’ Snowy said slowly. ‘I remember someone saying something once . . . Yes, I rather think we ought to insist that Tess waits until her gran is better and can decide for herself how to go on. There’s someone called an almoner – I think that’s the word – in every hospital, who helps patients sort out such things. If Tess asks her to, she’ll call on Mrs Williams and help her with her affairs. She may get a grant to pay the rent on the flat . . .’
‘I doubt she’ll do that; they’re under notice to quit, because the landlord thinks he has found someone who will take on the flat as well as the hat shop,’ Albert said. ‘Though there are another three weeks before they actually need to leave the premises. Mrs Williams and I have toyed with the idea of taking the shop on ourselves, possibly to get Change of Use and start an ice cream parlour, but we would need a large loan from the bank and we’ve not even approached them with the idea yet. If we did that it would mean that Tess would have a built-in job, so to speak, though she would have to get some experience first. But as it is, I can’t see a bank loaning us the setting-up money whilst Edie is so obviously incapacitated. What do you lads think? Could Tess and Edie run such a place if the bank consented to give us a loan? And how long would they give us to pay it back?’
The three of them talked over the problem at some length, finally deciding that it must be Albert’s first task, as soon as he had a moment free, to approach the bank, though Snowy asked rather curtly why he had not already done so.
Albert felt heat rise to his cheeks. Honesty wou
ld be painful, but it would be best in the long run. ‘I’m afraid I’m not a very brave man,’ he said apologetically. ‘Taking on responsibility for a new venture terrifies me. I was all right when it was just a dream, something Edie and I talked about when we went off on our coach trips, but as soon as it became a real possibility, I simply shut it out of my thoughts. I say, hasn’t Tess been rather a long time? Suppose she can’t find the folder? It’s not like Edie to leave something as important as documentation lying around loose. I wonder if I should go round to the flat.’
‘No point,’ Snowy said at once. ‘Sit down, Mr Payne, and let’s talk seriously about Tess getting some sort of full-time job and putting off her examinations until Mrs Williams is well again.’
Tess had hurried into the kitchen of the flat above the milliner’s shop and gone straight to the Welsh dresser. Gran had never made any secret of where she kept the folder and Tess pulled it out and rifled through the contents, but it proved to be no use since it held their old ration books, their identity cards, a great many wage slips and little else. Tess was turning away, disappointed, when it occurred to her that there was another drawer, into which she had never looked. She and Gran referred to it as ‘the old cutlery drawer’, and since the knives, forks and spoons it contained were indeed old they seldom, if ever, so much as opened it. But now Tess did so, and moving the cutlery out of the way she saw that the drawer did indeed hold something she had forgotten. It was a manila wallet with a little brass clasp, and as soon as she saw it Tess remembered having seen it once before. She had received a letter from the landlord explaining that their rent would be going up on quarter day. Gran had sniffed, nodded to herself a couple of times and opened the old cutlery drawer, beginning to move the knives and forks and then changing her mind, but not before Tess had caught a glimpse of the wallet. ‘Dear me, I must be going senile,’ Gran had said cheerfully. ‘This should be in my document folder, not amongst a whole load of ancient knives and forks.’