by Joan Jonker
‘Yer can ask her yerself, sunshine, because this is her coming towards us now. She’s coming to take our order.’
The waitress had the order pad in one hand, and her pen poised in the other. ‘I’m sorry you’ve been kept waiting, but we are always busy at this time of day. I’ll take your order now.’ She addressed Molly first, before glancing to where Nellie sat with her elbows on the table. After another quick glance, the woman turned back to Molly. ‘Oh, has your daughter left? I do hope it wasn’t because she had to wait so long?’
Molly sensed Nellie shuffling to the edge of her chair, and knew she wouldn’t be able to resist adding her two-pennyworth. She would do it for a laugh, but the waitress didn’t have time for a laugh, not when she was so busy. So Molly jumped in before her mate had a chance.
‘No, my daughter has gone on a message for me. As you see, one of my friends turned up, so I haven’t been left alone. And now we’ll give you the order so you can go about your business. It’s a pot of tea for two, and two of your delicious toasted teacakes.’
The waitress scribbled quickly, not wanting to keep the customer waiting any longer. ‘I’ll be back in a few minutes, and I do apologize for the delay.’
‘Don’t worry, girl, yer’ve got enough to do, being so busy, and my friend is quite happy now I’m here to keep her company.’
The waitress scurried away, missing the glint in Nellie’s eyes and her chuckle. ‘Ay, she thought she was seeing things, I could tell. Yer were right, girl, yer weren’t pulling me leg after all. But she must either be stupid, or need her eyes testing. How could she possibly mistake me for yer daughter? Nearly every girl resembles her mother in some way, but you’ve got blonde hair and blue eyes, while I’m mousy-coloured and have eyes what are light brown. At least that’s what I had the last time I looked, if yer know what I mean, like. It’s a long time since I saw me face ’cos we haven’t got a ruddy mirror what I can see meself in. I know I’ve still got two eyes and a nose, because I can feel them, but that’s about it.’
‘I don’t really care how or what conclusion she reached, sunshine,’ Molly told her. ‘But I’m very grateful to her in one way; she did me a favour.’
‘What d’yer mean, like, girl?’ Nellie’s brow was raised. ‘She didn’t do yer no favour by thinking I was yer daughter. Yer’d have to be in yer sixties to be my mother.’
‘Yer don’t need to tell me that, sunshine, ’cos I can add up. What I mean by saying she’d done me a favour is that she’s made me realize that my lot in life is not so bad, and I should be grateful to her for reminding me of the fact. I mean, just imagine what my life would be like if I was your mother!’ Molly was chuckling inside. ‘My life wouldn’t be worth living if I had to cope with you every day and night. I couldn’t bear it.’
‘Well, that’s charming, that is, I must say! That’s not a very nice way for a best mate to talk.’ Nellie put on her woebegone look and let out a heavy sigh. ‘I’m cut to the quick, girl, me heart is bleeding. In fact, by the time that woman comes back with our order, she’ll be wading in blood, that’s how much me quick has been cut to.’
Molly laughed. ‘I bet yer don’t know where yer quick is, sunshine, no more than yer know where yer heart is. Whenever ye’re acting dramatic, and yer want to put yer hand on yer heart, yer put it in the wrong place.’
‘No, I don’t, girl, I know where me heart is. After all, it is my heart, so I should know where it is.’ Her hand went to her right breast. ‘It’s right here, where it should be.’
The appearance of the waitress carrying a tray was the reason Molly didn’t tell her mate that most people had a heart on the left side of their body, for she knew the poor woman would be brought into the discussion on the whereabouts of Nellie’s. ‘Oh, that looks very nice.’ Molly smiled at the small, slim woman carrying the heavy tray. ‘Here, let me help you put it down. Those teacakes smell delicious, don’t you think so, Nellie?’
Putting on her very best accent, and with a hint of sarcasm, Nellie answered, ‘Oh, yes, Molly, they look very inviting. Almost good enough to eat, I think.’
Molly glared at her before telling the waitress, ‘My friend will have her little joke, even though it’s not always appreciated by others.’
The tray now cleared, the waitress held it down at her side. ‘I’m sure you’ll enjoy them, madam.’ With that she hurried back to the kitchen to pick up the next order. It was on busy days like this that she thought it would have been better if she’d taken the job in Vernon’s when she had the opportunity. It would have meant working every Saturday night marking the football coupons, but at least she wouldn’t be run off her feet every day, and the wages were five shillings a week more. Still, it was no use wondering what would have been, it was too late to do anything about it. Unless she tried again in the hope that they wouldn’t remember she’d turned the job down once. She watched her next order being put on the tray, and blamed all her woes on her boyfriend, especially her aching feet. He was the one who put her off the job in Vernon’s because he objected to her working every Saturday evening.
‘Christine, will yer wake up!’ one of the kitchen staff said. ‘Yer mind is miles away, and I’m standing here like a lemon. Get cracking before this tea goes cold.’
The waitress gave a quick shake of her head to clear her mind. And as she picked up the laden tray, she made a decision. On Monday morning she’d call in to the Labour Exchange and ask for an application form for Vernon’s. To hell with her boyfriend, it wasn’t him who had the sore feet.
Back at their table, Molly was pouring the tea out. ‘I wouldn’t like her job for all the tea in China. At everyone’s beck and call and run off her feet.’
‘Yeah, she should get married, like what we did. Then she could live the life of a lady, with bags of time on her hands, and she could please herself whether she spent her day doing housework, or just gave a quick flick of the duster when the dust started to show. That’s what she should do, girl, find a husband and have a life of leisure, like what we have.’
‘Ay, Nellie Mac, you speak for yerself,’ Molly told her. ‘I don’t live the life of a lady, and I don’t know anyone in our street what does. All the menfolk go out to work and the wives work just as hard bringing up the children and struggling to make ends meet. That’s besides doing the housework, the washing and ironing, the shopping and the cooking. I’m not moaning, I’m quite happy with my life, always have been. But it is far from a life of leisure.’
‘I’m always telling yer, girl, that I don’t see any point in dusting and polishing every day. Yer should be like me and leave the dust to mount up for a few days. And then only get the duster out when it’s gathered enough to be seen.’
‘Nellie, I don’t think you’d worry if your backside was on fire. The dust could be meeting George at the front door when he came home from work, and you wouldn’t give a toss. I don’t know how yer’ve got the nerve. All I can say is that yer’ve got a husband in a thousand. My Jack is a good husband, but he’d soon have something to say if I let the housework go to pot.’ Molly wiped her mouth with the small paper napkin. ‘Not that Jack is the reason for me being house-proud, I’ve always been fussy. I take after me ma, she’s very fastidious.’ Molly used the napkin again to wipe her mouth, but this time it was to hide a smile while she watched the contortions on Nellie’s face. How long would it be before the little woman found a way of finding out what fastidious meant? She wouldn’t ask outright; that wasn’t the way Nellie’s mind worked.
‘I’m just as fast as you are, girl, so don’t be so bleeding big-headed. It’s a wonder yer can get through the front door, the size of yer head.’
‘Nellie, if ye’re referring to the word fastidious, then before yer get yer knickers in a twist, it means fussy.’
Nellie was too worked up to listen, and her knickers were already in a twist. ‘How would you like to be called a slowcoach, eh? Right in me face as well! I think yer’ve got a flaming cheek, Molly Bennett.’ Nellie sto
pped for breath, and when she spoke again it was in a more relaxed voice. ‘What did yer say the word meant, girl? Did I hear right when yer said yer were fussy?’
‘Yes, Nellie, yer did hear right, and to save any more argument I’ll hold me hands up and admit I am fussy. So let’s forget all about it now, so when our husbands ask us tonight what we did in town we won’t have to say we spent best part of the day arguing over who was big-headed and fussy, and who got their knickers in a twist over nothing.’ Molly sat back in her chair. ‘You’re nearer the teapot, sunshine. Will yer see if there’s any tea left in it?’
Nellie shook her head. ‘It’s only warm, girl, not fit to drink.’ Then a slow smile creased her chubby cheeks. ‘I know what we can do, girl. We can pretend we’ve just come in, and we can order tea and teacakes all over again. Isn’t that a good idea, Molly, ’cos those teacakes were really nice.’
Molly was tempted. ‘They were more than nice, they were scrumptious.’ She quickly lifted a hand. ‘That means they were really nice, sunshine, so don’t be giving me dirty looks. And yes, let’s go mad for a change and order a repeat.’
‘You order, girl, while I sit here with me mouth watering.’
‘Okay, sunshine, but yer do know it will mean getting the bus as soon as we leave here? No time to look around the shops because we have to be home to make the dinners. It’s up to you, Nellie, it’s your choice.’
It was Nellie’s turn to lean forward. ‘I often say that life can be a bugger, girl, as yer know. But this is a time when life is worth living. So call the waitress over, in yer posh voice, mind, and give her the order. Yer could tell her we’re in a hurry, so she’ll move herself. If she’s a slowcoach, then me mouth won’t be just watering, I’ll be slobbering like a baby.’
‘Behave yerself, Nellie. Don’t make a show of me.’
‘I wouldn’t dream of it, girl! I wouldn’t make a fool of someone who is fastidious and thinks teacakes are scrumptious.’ She turned away chuckling at the expression on Molly’s face.
Chapter Seventeen
‘You were late getting in last night, sunshine,’ Molly told her daughter as she put her tea and toast down in front of her. ‘Yer know yer’ve been told often enough by me, and yer dad, that half past ten is the limit for you to be out, and no later.’ She pulled a chair out and sat facing her daughter. ‘You were later than that last night, and me and yer dad were worried.’
Ruthie pulled a face. ‘We were only outside talking. Me and Gordon, and Peter. And we weren’t really late, only about five minutes.’
Jack drained his cup, then raised his brows at his daughter. ‘It was nearly a quarter to eleven, Ruthie, and that’s too late for you to be out. We know yer won’t come to any harm with Gordon, but we have to be up early and need to get to bed at a reasonable time. Yer have enough time at the dance to do all the talking yer need. Don’t let it happen again, d’yer hear me?’
‘Bella’s mam and dad wouldn’t be very happy, sunshine,’ Molly said. ‘Yer know how they worry about her.’
‘It was because of Bella we were late,’ Ruthie told her. ‘She probably won’t tell her mam the truth, she’ll blame us. But honest, Mam, she got on my nerves last night, acting like a big baby.’
Molly’s brows shot up. ‘It’s not like you to talk that way about Bella! I hope yer haven’t had a quarrel after all these years of being best mates? She is so quiet and timid, I can’t imagine her doing anything to cause yer to fall out.’
‘Well she did!’ Ruthie’s stubborn streak showed in the set of her jaw. ‘It wasn’t me she made a fool of, it was Peter. And herself, ’cos she was acting like a big kid.’
Jack had a look of surprise on his face. ‘It must have been something really out of character for Bella to cause yer to talk about her like that. Never in a million years would I expect to be having this conversation. What did Bella do that was so bad?’
‘Everything was all right on the way to the dance, we were laughing and joking, all in a good mood. When we got to Blair Hall, Gordon bought my ticket and Peter paid for Bella. We were fine until the first excuse me. I was dancing with Gordon and Bella with Peter. Anyway, some bloke excused Bella, which is nothing out of the ordinary because it happens to everyone. Then we always meet up after the dance. But last night the feller who excused Bella kept her talking after the music had finished. And while Peter was waiting for her, she stood talking to this bloke and she was laughing and giggling like a schoolgirl. I don’t know what he was saying to her, he’s one of those cocky lads who think they’re another James Cagney. I felt sorry for Peter, standing there waiting for her while she was being all coy. Gordon was in a right temper, ’cos Peter had paid for her bus fare and the dance ticket.’
‘That doesn’t sound a bit like Bella,’ Molly said. ‘She’s usually so shy. But I agree with yer that she was wrong to treat Peter like that.’
Speaking through the toast in her mouth, Ruthie said, ‘I was really annoyed, and in the end I went over to her. When I asked why she hadn’t joined us, the smart lad told me to scram and mind me own business.’ When she heard her mother gasp, Ruthie told her, ‘That was nothing, Mam, to what he said to Peter, who had come up behind me. Yer know how quiet Peter is, well, when the smart lad told him to get lost, I thought there was going to be a fight because Gordon came over.’
Molly’s eyes told of her surprise. ‘What on earth was Bella doing all through this? Why didn’t she walk away with you and Peter?’
‘Don’t ask me, Mam. She looked as though she was enjoying all the attention. And the lad was sneering, as though he’d clock anyone if they tried to interfere. He’s a real tough lad, who’d knock yer for six if yer looked sideways at him. When I asked Bella if she was coming to stand with her mates, the queer lad smirked, and told us she was having the next dance with him.’
‘What sort of a place is it that yer go to, pet?’ Jack asked, his temper rising. ‘Perhaps yer should give it a miss in future. It doesn’t sound like a place I’d wish a daughter of mine to go to.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with Blair Hall, Dad. It’s a nice place, never any trouble there.’
‘It doesn’t sound a nice place, sunshine,’ Molly said, ‘when there’s bad lads go there and cause a fight.’
‘It didn’t come to a fight, Mam.’ Ruthie’s face was relaxed and smiling now. ‘I got hold of Bella’s hand, and the lad tried to pull her towards him, but I put me foot behind his leg and sent him sprawling on the floor. I dragged Bella back to where we always stand, then went back to where the clever lad was getting to his feet. There was a crowd around him and they were all making fun of him. It appears he’s not very popular there, being a bit of a bully. Anyway, I was going to tell him what I thought of him when Gordon came up behind me and he told the lad in no uncertain terms that if he came near us again he would be going home with two black eyes. And the crowd around said it was what he deserved. He is a very unpopular lad by the sound of things. Probably makes a play for all the girls, and the fellers don’t like it.’
Jack pushed his plate away with his eyes on the clock. ‘No time left for talking, pet, or we’re going to be late for work. Put a move on, there’s a love.’
Molly jumped to her feet. ‘I’d forgotten about the time, ye’re both going to be late. Put yer skates on, Ruthie, and take that piece of toast with yer. Yer can eat it on the way to the bus.’ Then Molly had a thought. ‘Are yer still going in to work with Bella, sunshine, or have yer fallen out?’
‘I’m still going to work with her, Mam. I’m not so childish I’d fall out with her.’
Ruthie struggled into her coat, a piece of toast between her teeth. Her mother had the front door open and Jack was the first out. Kissing Molly’s cheek, he said, ‘We’ll talk about it tonight. Ta-ra, love.’
Ruthie took the toast from her mouth and kissed Molly. ‘Ta-ra, Mam. I’ll finish the tale later. I might add to it so it’ll be more interesting. She turned when she stepped on to the pavement and grinned. �
��I’ll do an Auntie Nellie on yer.’
Molly watched her daughter crossing the cobbles to where Bella was standing with her mother, Mary. Not wanting to get involved in a conversation with Mary until she’d heard the full story, Molly waved a hand in greeting before stepping back and closing the door. The Watsons were a nice family who had lived in the street for over sixteen years. In fact Bella was born not long after they moved in. An only child, she had been wrapped in cotton wool, the wind wasn’t allowed to blow on her. With Ruthie being the same age, they’d become friends from when they could toddle. But because of Mary’s almost suffocating hold on her daughter, the two young girls weren’t allowed to move away from the Watsons’ front door, so Mary could keep an eye on her daughter. Molly had, over the years, told Mary she was holding her daughter back, and she should allow the girl to grow and blossom like other children, not smother her. To Ruthie’s credit, she had stuck by her friend, even though it meant her missing out on the Saturday matinee at the picture house, and going to the park with a bottle of lemonade and some sandwiches to have a picnic. And now both girls were sixteen, it had been thanks to Molly, with the help and support of Bella’s father, Harry, that the girl was allowed to go dancing. And that was only achieved because they went with the Corkhill boys, who were well respected in the street.
Molly cleared the breakfast dishes, shook the tablecloth in the yard, then put the kettle on for hot water to wash the dishes in, and to make herself a cup of tea. And all the time she was wondering what really happened, and why. She didn’t for one second disbelieve what Ruthie had told her and Jack, for her daughter never told lies. In fact it was just the opposite: she was apt to be too outspoken and said precisely what she thought.
Molly pulled a chair out from under the table, put her cup of tea down, then plonked herself on the chair. She felt restless, which wasn’t usual. And even after drinking her tea and telling herself she was being ridiculous worrying and fretting over something she could do nothing about, she couldn’t talk herself out of her depression. There had been few upsets in the Bennett house, few arguments and absolutely no falling out. All her children got on well with each other, and that had made for a happy home.