MB08 - I’ll Be Your Sweetheart

by Joan Jonker

  ‘It wouldn’t do for me, sunshine,’ Molly told her. ‘I wouldn’t last a day before I was missing me family. And I’d soon get fed up being waited on. Yer can get too much of a good thing. I’d be bored stiff after the first day. I don’t envy the royal family one bit. I wouldn’t change places with them for all the tea in China. They don’t have any manual work to do, and they don’t even dress themselves. From what I’ve heard, they have people called dressers who set their clothes out for them every day, and help them into them.’

  Nellie was so engrossed, she couldn’t hear the chatter around her. ‘Go ’way, girl. Ye’re pulling me leg, aren’t yer?’

  ‘No, I’m not, sunshine, as far as I know that is the God’s honest truth. It wouldn’t do for me, though. I’d rather have me two-up-two-down house than live in a palace. And I’d rather dress meself than have a lackey do it.’

  ‘Well, I’ve never heard the like of it.’ Nellie was for once lost for words. ‘Who told yer all this, anyway? No one told me.’

  ‘I’ve seen it on the pictures, when it’s been a film about the old days, and they show yer how the aristocracy lived. And sometimes I’ve read bits in the Sunday paper. It’s not just our royal family, it’s been the same right down the ages.’

  Nellie tutted. ‘Just wait until I tell George tonight. I bet he won’t believe me, though. He’ll think I’m pulling his leg.’

  ‘No, he won’t, sunshine, he’ll know it’s true. In fact you’re probably the only grown-up in the country who doesn’t know what’s going on, and I’m surprised at yer.’

  ‘I was no good at history or geography in school, girl. I was always bottom of the class. I couldn’t see any sense in having to learn what part of the world China was in, or about Henry the Eighth and his ruddy wives. And I ask yer, girl, how many people were ever going to ask me what year the Battle of Waterloo took place! Has anyone ever asked you?’

  Molly thought the conversation was hilarious, as did the two women sitting at the next table. They each had a hand over their mouth to hide their laughter, and were going to great pains to pretend they weren’t listening. ‘Nobody has asked me yet, sunshine, but yer never know, it could happen.’

  ‘And could yer give them the right answer?’ Nellie didn’t wait for a reply, because she was sure she knew what it would be. ‘Silly me, of course yer know the answer, clever clogs.’

  ‘You’re wrong, sunshine, because I haven’t got a clue when the battle took place. And what’s more, I couldn’t care less. I did know when I left school, because I was quite good at history. But in all of the thirty years which have passed since I walked through the school gates for the last time, I have never once had need to use the knowledge my teacher insisted on pumping into me.’

  Nellie fell back in her chair. ‘Thank God for that! Here was me thinking me mate was perfect.’ She was about to lean forward to add to that remark when the waitress came and put a tray down on the table. And the sight of melting butter on the teacakes was more important than the words she’d had in mind.

  ‘I’ll pour, sunshine,’ Molly said, setting cups on saucers. ‘And I’m going to thank you in advance for the treat. It looks very appetizing.’

  ‘Are we going to T.J.’s for towels, girl, for Sadie’s wedding present? They’ve got stacks of all sizes, and they’re the cheapest in town.’

  Molly nodded. ‘Yes, we can walk to T.J.’s from here, then get the tram home from there. But let’s eat these first. Me mouth is watering in anticipation.’

  While Molly and Nellie were choosing towels in T.J.’s store for Sadie’s wedding present, Inspector Steve Willard was knocking on Flora Parker’s front door. He waited for a while, and when there was no response he knocked again. He was giving up hope when he heard the inside hall door opening, then slow footsteps coming towards the front door.

  Steve could understand the old lady’s caution, and bent down to speak through the letter box. ‘Mrs Parker, it’s Detective Inspector Willard. Would you open the door, please? I have some news for you.’

  The door opened slowly, and Flora’s head appeared. When she was satisfied her visitor was who he said he was, the door was opened wider and there was a smile of recognition on the old lady’s face. ‘Come in, inspector. I’m sorry I kept you waiting, but I’m careful about opening the door these days.’

  Steve walked past her, into the tiny hall. ‘I can understand that, my dear, and you are wise to be careful.’

  Flora closed the front door and waved her hand to tell him to go ahead of her. ‘I feel very insecure since the robbery, and reluctant to open the door until I know who the caller is. My neighbours knock on the window so I can see them. And Molly and Nellie shout through the letter box.’ She waited until he was seated on the couch, then she sat in her rocking chair. ‘You’ll remember Molly and Nellie. They were here when you came last time.’

  ‘Mrs Bennett and Mrs McDonough. Yes, I remember them well. Two very friendly ladies. Do they still come to see you?’

  Flora nodded. ‘Nearly every day. I look forward to them coming because they brighten my life, they are so funny. And they’re very kind, too.’ She set the chair in motion. ‘I’d have been in Queer Street without them. After the robbery I was left without a penny to me name. I was out of me mind with worry ’cos I wouldn’t be able to pay the rent man or anybody else, and I’d have starved without money for food.’

  Flora stopped rocking so she could think straight. She didn’t want to tell the policeman too much, especially about the bet on the horse. So she kept her version of events to a minimum. ‘They helped me out with me rent money, and made sure I had enough food in. And they are still keeping an eye on me.’

  ‘They sound like good friends to have,’ Steve said. ‘And I remember thinking what a jolly pair they were. They put me in mind of Laurel and Hardy. Not in looks, of course, but in manner and humour.’

  Flora pressed a hand on each of the chair arms and got to her feet. ‘I’ll put the kettle on, inspector, then yer can tell me if yer have any news of the person who broke into my house.’

  Steve Willard was about to say she shouldn’t bother making tea, but then he thought it would be for the best. The watch he had in his pocket would come as a shock, and a cup of tea might come in useful.

  He heard the sound of running water, then the plop of a gas ring being lit. And Flora’s voice called, ‘Do you take sugar in your tea?’

  ‘One spoonful, please. But don’t make a fuss, Mrs Parker. Come and sit down while waiting for the kettle.’

  ‘It will be ready in no time, ’cos I’ve only half filled the kettle. And it’s easier for me to stand here than it is to get in and out of that chair. When yer get to my age, inspector, yer’ll find the old legs will only do so much. They’ve got a mind of their own.’

  ‘I think you look remarkably well for your age, Mrs Parker. But I hear the kettle boiling now so I won’t distract your attention.’

  When Flora carried the two cups of tea in, she was about to put one down on the small table she kept by the side of her chair when Steve said, ‘Would you mind if I asked if we could both sit at the table? I have something to tell you, and it would be far easier if we were facing each other.’

  When they were settled, Flora asked, ‘What news do you have for me? Have you caught the person who broke into my house?’

  ‘No, I’m afraid not. But our enquiries are ongoing, and we haven’t given up hope of finding him.’ Steve took a mouthful of tea. ‘I have better news for you, though, and I believe you will prefer it to hearing we’d caught the culprit.’ He put his hand in his pocket and brought out the box, which he put on the table and pushed towards Flora. ‘I believe this belongs to you?’

  At the sight of the box, the old lady’s face drained of colour, and a hand went to her throat. ‘Would you open it for me, please? I’m feeling a little faint.’

  Steve didn’t want to keep her in suspense any longer, and he took the lid off the box that had been in Flora’s keepi
ng for thirty-six years, until it was stolen from her. ‘A man brought it into the station. He’d found it in an entry and was honest enough to hand it over. It was very lucky that he was honest, for there’s plenty who would have hung on to it, or sold it. Then you would never have seen it again.’ He saw Flora was numb with shock, but there was no other way he could have handled it. No matter what he’d done, it would have been a shock. ‘Aren’t you going to take it out of the box and look at it? I imagine that’s worth more to you than all the money in the world.’

  The old lady couldn’t speak. She was trembling all over. So Steve lifted the watch and chain from the box and held it in front of her. He wasn’t far from tears himself, and felt very emotional. But he couldn’t afford to let it show. ‘Come on, dear, take hold of it. It has probably missed you as much as you’ve missed it. And it is intact, with the photograph.’ The tears were slow in coming, but when Steve opened the casing at the back of the watch, and Flora saw the beloved face staring up at her, the floodgates opened and she sobbed her heart out as she held the watch to her cheek.

  Detective Inspector Steven Willard wasn’t known as a softie down at the station, so if his fellow officers could have seen him then they would have been very surprised. He was strict on discipline, and showed no sympathy for the crooks he came into contact with. He came down hard on bad timekeepers, and those whose uniforms weren’t up to his standards. But his colleagues only knew Steve the policeman, they didn’t know Steve the loving husband, father, son and grandson. For he had a grandmother about the same age as Flora, and he idolized her.

  ‘Look, Mrs Parker, I’ll make you a fresh cup of tea, then I’ll have to go back to the station. Will you be all right if I leave you with your memories?’

  ‘I’ll be fine, inspector. Another half hour to take it all in, then I’ll be the happiest woman in the world. I never thought I’d see this again. I’d given up hope. I can’t thank you enough, for this is the best thing that I could have wished for. You’ll never know what it means to me.’

  ‘Oh, I think I do, Mrs Parker, and I’m very happy for you. And now I’ll make that cup of tea, then be on my way.’

  Chapter Twenty Four

  The friends came out of T.J.’s store and headed for the nearby tram stop. Molly was carrying a bag containing two fluffy white towels which were Sadie’s wedding present, while Nellie had tight hold of the bags with the necklaces in. Both women were pleased with the purchases, and felt that on the whole the day had been fruitful and pleasant. The only niggle on Molly’s mind was Inspector Willard’s visit to Flora. Had it gone well?

  ‘What are yer thinking about, girl?’ Nellie asked, squinting up at her mate. ‘Yer face reminded me of that song yer ma sings, about a woman whose brow is furrowed and wrinkled with care. I can’t remember the title of the song, but I know it always makes me want to weep. Anyway, that’s what you looked like. We’ve had a smashing day, yet you look as miserable as sin.’

  Molly shook off her niggles, and laughed at Nellie’s description of her face. ‘I was thinking, sunshine, and I’m allowed to do that, surely? And at my age I hope my brow is not furrowed and wrinkled with care. That’s an old Irish song I remember me ma singing from when I was a toddler. It’s called “Mother McCree”, and like yerself, I always want to weep when I hear it. Mind you, I love all the Irish songs.’

  Nellie squared her shoulders before saying defensively, ‘I love them too, girl, but what about our English songs? They’re just as good. How about that one about a woman called Maggie? Anyone who doesn’t cry when the man sings, “To me you’re as fair as you were, Maggie, when you and I were young” hasn’t got any feelings at all. That’s the best song ever written, that is.’

  ‘Ooh, I think the Welsh and Scottish people would argue with yer about that, sunshine. They’re very proud people, and wonderful songs have been written by them. Yer know what they say, to each his own.’

  ‘Who says that, girl? I’ve never heard it. I bet yer’ve just made that up on the spur of the moment.’

  ‘We haven’t got time now to argue the merits of songs, ’cos the tram is coming. Besides, a good song is a good song, no matter who wrote it. So let’s agree to disagree and get on the tram. Try and get on first, ’cos it looks quite full and I don’t fancy standing all the way home. Me feet are tired as it is. The walk from Reece’s to here was all uphill, and don’t my feet know it. So we’ll try for a seat.’

  Nellie flexed her right arm. ‘Leave it to me, girl, I’ll get us a seat.’ And Nellie’s promise came true, even if half the people in the queue did suffer bruising to various parts of their bodies. Molly felt a bit guilty, but her feet told her not to be daft because they’d been the ones stood on all day.

  Sitting precariously on the edge of the tram seat, her bottom half on and half hanging in the aisle, Nellie clung to the seat in front like grim death. Molly had told her to sit on the inside, by the window, but the little woman had insisted she’d have more room sitting by the aisle. She was sorry now, though. With the swaying of the tram she was in danger of slipping off, even though she was holding on to the seat in front so hard her knuckles were white. But it was too late to swap over now, for the tram was packed and the aisle chock-a-block with swaying bodies. Still, it was her own fault, she should have taken Molly’s advice. She was too big-hearted, that was her trouble.

  The last thought brought a smile to Nellie’s face, for she was honest with herself when she silently admitted the last thing she was was big-hearted. She chose the outside seat because she wanted to, not to be kind to her best mate.

  ‘What are yer smiling at, sunshine?’ Molly asked. ‘The position you’re in, well, I don’t think it’s funny.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Yer should only pay half fare, Nellie, ’cos ye’re only half on. Most of yer body is hanging in space.’

  ‘Are yer being funny, girl? Sarky, like?’

  Molly was careful to keep her body still when she laughed. One false move and Nellie would be lying in the aisle. ‘Yes, sunshine, I am being funny, ’cos yer brought it on yerself. But sarcastic, no, I am not.’

  ‘I know it’s me own fault, girl, but I can’t help a little moan coming out if it wants to. Yer see, the one cheek of me backside I can’t feel because it’s numb, and the other I can’t feel because it’s suspended in the air! I mean, like, girl, wouldn’t you moan if yer were in that dicament?’

  ‘You mean predicament, sunshine. There’s no such word as dicament.’

  Nellie snorted. ‘This is a fine time to be giving me a lesson in English, Molly Bennett. I’d clock yer one if I could take me hand off the back of this seat. I’m stuck in the bleeding middle here, halfway to heaven and halfway to hell. And what do you do while I’m in this dicament? Do yer let me link yer arm so I don’t fall off the seat, like a proper mate would? Do yer heckers like. Yer’d rather pick on me lack of knowledge of the English language! A fat lot of good that’s going to do me when I’m sitting on air and a prayer.’

  Molly moved the bag to her other arm, then offered her free one to Nellie. ‘Stick it in, sunshine, and cling on to me and the seat in front as though yer life depended upon it.’ Under her breath, Molly added, ‘And my life as well. For where you go, I go. Be it on to the floor or through the window. Neither of which appeals to me.’

  ‘Did yer say something, girl?’ Nellie’s chins were swaying with the tram, and quite enjoying the sensation. ‘I thought I heard yer muttering.’

  ‘I was talking to meself, sunshine. Telling meself to get ready, for we get off next stop, thank goodness. I’ve never known a tram so packed for the entire journey. Usually yer have a few passengers getting off and making a bit of room to breathe.’

  Nellie turned her face away, so her mate wouldn’t see the wicked smile. For several people had attempted to get past the part of her anatomy that was blocking the aisle, but she refused to be any more discommoded than she already was. And the look she gave that said she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions if they tr
ied to move her was sufficient to deter the faint-hearted.

  ‘Move in a bit, sunshine, and let them go first. We’ll get off last when the crush has gone.’

  ‘I can’t move in any more, girl, or I’ll be sitting on yer knee. And if I sat on your knee, ten to one some bright spark would stick a ruddy dummy in me mouth.’

  ‘Don’t be awkward, Nellie. Squeeze in and let the people pass. If yer don’t, we’ll be left on when the tram starts again, and we’ll end up at the ruddy terminus. And if we do, you can pay the fare back for being so contrary.’

  This brought Nellie into motion, and she was standing on the pavement before Molly. ‘What took yer so long, girl?’

  ‘It took me a while to get past the people who were calling you all the names under the sun. That’s what kept me, Nellie McDonough. Why do yer rub people up the wrong way? Those women on the tram have never done you any harm.’

  ‘Only dirty looks, girl, what you didn’t see. They think they should have everything they want, when they want it. And it’s to hell with anyone else.’

  ‘Okay, we’ll call it quits.’ Molly bent her arm. ‘Stick yer leg in, sunshine, and let’s put a move on. We’ll have time for a cup of tea before we have to start on the dinners. I’m afraid I can’t offer yer a toasted teacake, Nellie, but I promise I’ll treat yer one of these days.’

  ‘Don’t you worry about that, girl. Yer said before that we’ll call it quits, well, I’m saying the same thing meself. Yer can count the teacake as payment for those two thousand odd cups of tea yer say I owe yer. So it’s all debts settled, eh, girl?’

  ‘You’re not soft, are yer, sunshine? But I’ll let yer off, seeing as ye’re me best mate. Now let go of me arm while I get the door key out.’