by Joan Jonker
‘Over my dead body yer would! I’ve been thankin’ me lucky stars all day that you’re too old to be called up, and our Tommy’s too young! He’s only fifteen, the war will be well over before he’s old enough to be conscripted.’
Jack studied his wife’s face. This wasn’t going to be an easy war, Hitler had been building up his forces for years while the rest of the world looked on and did nothing. And he was a madman, you only had to look at his face to see that. He wouldn’t think twice about using gas or germs, anything to achieve the power he craved. But it was no good troubling Molly with his thoughts. He needed a man to talk to, someone he could open up to and use the bad words that came into his head whenever he thought of the goose-stepping maniac. ‘Would yer mind if I went out for a pint, love?’
‘Why don’t yer give George a knock?’ Molly understood his mood and Nellie’s husband was just the man to meet his needs. ‘I’m sure he’d be glad to get out for an hour.’
‘I will, if ye’re sure yer don’t mind.’
‘Of course I don’t,’ Molly smiled, ‘as long as yer don’t make a habit of it and yer don’t stay till chucking-out time.’
Jack was a fine-looking man. Tall, well built, strong face, thick dark hair and melting brown eyes that could make Molly’s tummy do somersaults. ‘Are yer all right for money?’
Jack grinned. ‘As long as George buys his own pint.’
‘Hang on a minute.’ Molly opened the drawer of the sideboard and brought out her well-worn purse. ‘Here’s a tanner … pay me back at the end of the week.’
Jack pocketed the sixpence before cupping his wife’s face. Gazing into the vivid blue eyes, he said, ‘Ye’re as pretty as the day I married yer, Molly Bennett. Blonde hair, blue eyes, smashin’ figure … who could ask for anythin’ more?’
Molly grinned into his face. ‘They say love is blind. The blonde hair is streaked with grey and the smashing figure went out the door after the children were born. Havin’ three babies in three years doesn’t do much for a girl’s shape, yer know.’
‘Are you blaming me for that?’
‘Well, it wasn’t the feller next door, that’s for sure! Mind you, I have to admit I played a part in it. The trouble is, we both liked playin’ games too much … especially mothers an’ fathers.’
‘I did give yer a long break between Tommy an’ Ruthie though, didn’t I? Yer’ve got to give credit where it’s due.’
‘Uh-uh, Jack Bennett, don’t you be gettin’ ideas! I know you, an’ if yer don’t push off, it won’t be up to the pub, it’ll be up to bed!’
Jack kissed her full on the lips before dropping his hands. ‘You should be happy that yer still have that effect on me after all these years.’
‘In case yer’ve never noticed, I’m not exactly an ice-maiden meself! Me heart’s goin’ fifteen to the dozen.’ Molly gazed at him, loving every bone in his body and every hair on his head. ‘But there’s a time an’ place for everything, and it isn’t here and now … not with three grown-up children likely to walk in any minute.’
‘We’ll discuss that later, upstairs.’ With a broad wink, Jack made for the door. ‘Ta-ra for now.’
‘Ask Nellie to come down for half an hour,’ Molly called after him, ‘she can keep me company.’
‘Blimey! Yer’ve seen her half a dozen times today!’ Jack’s head appeared round the door. ‘What the heck can the pair of yer find to talk about all the time?’
‘Everythin’ and everyone.’ Molly straightened the chenille cloth covering the table. ‘This afternoon we got as far as how many blankets the woman in number two has on her bed.’
Jack raised his brows, feigning astonishment. ‘Women! Well, they do say small things amuse small minds.’
‘Ay, Mrs Waterman will have your life! Her blankets aren’t small, they’re all double-sized.’
A deep chuckle came from Jack. ‘You’ve got an answer for everythin’, haven’t yer?’
‘I’ve also got a ruddy big rolling pin that will be makin’ contact with your head if yer don’t move.’ Molly shook a fist. ‘Now skedaddle!’
Jack had only been gone a few minutes when Molly heard the yard door close and looked through the window to see Nellie swaying up the yard.
‘My God, you’ve been quick! Did yer have yer shoes on, ready?’
‘I’m not sittin’ in the house on me own like one of Lewis’s.’ Nellie eyed the couch enviously. It looked so comfortable and inviting she almost succumbed to temptation. Then she pursed her lips and told herself that although it looked comfortable and inviting, in reality it was like a flaming mousetrap. Once she got herself down there, they’d have to prise her out. ‘The three kids are out and your feller is leading my feller astray down the pub. So when Jack suggested I come down, I didn’t need askin’ twice.’
‘I’ll stick the kettle on an’ we’ll have a nice quiet hour on our own, eh?’ Molly ruffled Nellie’s already untidy thin, straggly, mouse-coloured hair. ‘I hid a packet of custard creams at the back of the larder, where Ruthie couldn’t find them, so we’ll spoil ourselves.’
‘Ay, isn’t it lovely an’ peaceful?’ Nellie reached across to the plate of biscuits. ‘It’s always so noisy in our ’ouse, yer can’t hear yerself think.’
‘Jack was askin’ me what we found to talk about all the time!’
‘Nosy, isn’t he?’ Nellie dunked the biscuit in her tea. ‘What did yer tell him?’
Molly repeated the part of the conversation that wasn’t private, ending with the number of blankets on Mrs Waterman’s bed.
Nellie tittered as she picked a crumb from her pinny and popped it in her mouth. ‘Just out of curiosity, girl, in case someone should ask, like – how many blankets ’as she got on her bed?’
‘Go on, yer daft ha’p’orth! Jack says we’re both crazy, an’ he’s not far off the mark.’
For once Nellie was serious. ‘No, girl, we’re not crazy. Just because we laugh a lot doesn’t mean we haven’t got anythin’ between our ears. If yer think back to the years when we were so poor we didn’t know where the next meal was comin’ from, would we ever have made it through those days if we hadn’t been able to see the funny side of everythin’?’ She lifted her huge bosom and rested it on the table. ‘Your feller an’ mine have just walked down the road talkin’ about the war … the terrible things that might happen. An’ they’re probably right, ’cos it’s terrible those poor sailors gettin’ blown up.’ Nellie made the sign of the cross and sighed deeply. ‘I’ll lie awake tonight thinkin’ of those poor souls an’ their families, an’ I’ll be prayin’ for them. An’ when yer see me laughin’ tomorrow, an’ acting the goat, it won’t mean I don’t care! But if yer can’t laugh, girl, or see the happy things in life, then life wouldn’t be worth living, would it?’
‘Helen Theresa McDonough, yer’ve got me crying.’ Molly wiped a tear with the back of her hand. ‘It’s not often ye’re serious, but when yer are then ye’re worth listening to. And you’re right, we’ve got a lot to be thankful for an’ we should be counting our blessings.’
‘That’s the spirit, girl! Now can I have another biscuit because I was that busy talkin’, I don’t remember eatin’ the others.’
Tommy was the first home. At fifteen, he was as tall as his dad and the spitting image of him. Fifteen is an awkward age for a boy … too old to play footie or kick the can in the street, and too young for going to dances or taking a girl to the pictures. Not that Tommy wanted to take a girl out: he’d had enough of females with his two elder sisters. Proper nuisances they were, always hogging the sink first so he had to wait to get washed, then preening themselves in front of the mirror so he couldn’t even see if his parting was straight when he’d combed his hair. And they were bossy and talked too much. But, having said all that, they were his sisters, and if push came to shove, woe betide anyone who tried to hurt them.
‘Been playin’ cards at yer mate’s, Tommy?’ Nellie asked.
‘Nah! We’re fed up playin’
cards, Auntie Nellie, so me an’ Ginger went for a walk.’ She wasn’t really his auntie, but she’d been part of their lives for so long, all the children regarded her as a favourite member of the family. He gave her a wide grin. ‘As per usual, we’re skint an’ happy until pay day.’
‘Join the club, son,’ Nellie laughed. ‘I can’t remember a day when I wasn’t boracic lint.’
‘You shouldn’t be so badly off, Nellie!’ Molly said. ‘You’ve got all yours working.’
‘Huh, hark at her! You’ve got three workin’ as well!’
‘Yeah, but I’ve got Ruthie to feed an’ clothe, don’t forget.’
‘Ay, that’s your lookout, girl! Don’t be blamin’ me for gettin’ yer in the family way when yer mind should have been on other things.’
Molly’s face flamed and her eyes shot daggers at her friend. Fancy saying that in front of Tommy! But she wasn’t the only one embarrassed because Tommy decided it was his bedtime and bade them goodnight.
‘Why don’t you watch what ye’re saying, Nellie McDonough! Fancy sayin’ that in front of a fifteen-year-old boy.’
‘Oh, ye gods!’ Nellie huffed. ‘If he doesn’t know what it’s for at fifteen, then he never will!’ She leaned across the table and whispered, ‘I bet he knows it’s not to stir his tea with.’
Molly tried to look stern but it didn’t work and she ended up laughing her head off. ‘I don’t know what I’m goin’ to do with you, Nellie, you’re past redemption.’
‘What does that mean, girl? I know what past the post means, but yer keep bringin’ in these big words an’ I don’t know whether to feel pleased or insulted.’
They were laughing so much they didn’t hear the door open. It was Steve’s deep voice that brought them upright. ‘Has me mam been at the milk stout again, Mrs B.?’
‘Oh, God, yer gave me the fright of me life! I didn’t hear yez comin’ in.’ Molly smiled up at Nellie’s son. He was a handsome lad, over six feet tall, dark hair, eyes that changed from hazel to green, a strong square jaw and deep dimples in his cheeks. He had his arm around the waist of her eldest daughter Jill, and Molly thought for the umpteenth time what a lovely couple they made. Next to Jill stood Doreen, the next-to-eldest. The two girls had their mother’s colouring, long blonde hair and vivid blue eyes. They were both very attractive with slim figures and long shapely legs. But they had different natures. Jill was gentle and caring, and wouldn’t argue if she could avoid it. But Doreen was a different kettle of fish. More outgoing, sure of herself and quick to say what she thought even if it meant a telling-off. Many’s the time when she was younger she’d earned herself a cuff round the ear for giving cheek.
‘Where’s me dad?’ Jill asked.
‘He’s gone boozing with Mr McDonough. An’ if he’s not in soon I’m goin’ to bolt the front door, the dirty stop-out.’
‘Mam.’ Doreen’s eyes were shining, her face alive and eager. ‘Have you heard Glenn Miller on the wireless playing “In the Mood”?’
‘Not that I know of.’
‘I’ve heard it,’ Steve said, ‘it’s a crackin’ tune.’
‘It’s all the rage.’ Doreen’s pretty face was animated. ‘Maureen bought the record and we’ve been listenin’ to it on her gramophone. And we’ve been practising jiving, like we’ve seen them doin’ it at the Grafton.’
‘Give us a demonstration,’ Jill begged. She couldn’t dance herself but admired the poise and grace of her sister. ‘Go on, be a sport.’
‘No chance!’ Doreen blew out a sharp breath. ‘I haven’t got the hang of it yet ’cos it’s not half hard to do. And anyway, yer need a partner for it.’
‘Don’t look at me!’ Steve shook his head. ‘Yer know me with me two left feet.’
‘What did yer say this song’s called?’ Nellie asked, her folded arms resting on the ledge made by her tummy.
‘“In the Mood”.’ Doreen started to hum the tune. ‘It’s great.’
‘Funny name for a song … “In the Mood”. Could mean all sorts of things.’ Nellie’s eyes slid to the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘I mean, our fellers have been out long enough to have supped enough ale to make them in the mood … what d’yer say, girl?’
Steve bit his lip to keep himself from laughing, Jill blushed, Doreen raised her brows questioningly, and Molly jumped to her feet.
‘That’s it, now, everyone … time for bed.’ She gave Doreen a push in the direction of the stairs, then nodded to Jill. ‘See Steve out, sunshine, then turn in.’
‘Ah, ray, Mam!’ Doreen protested. ‘What’s the hurry?’
‘There’s a hurry because I say there’s a hurry … OK?’ The look on her mother’s face warned Doreen not to argue and she quickly climbed the stairs.
Molly closed the door and faced Nellie with her hands on her hips.
‘Nellie McDonough, yer’ll be the death of me yet! Yer’ve no right to make suggestive remarks in front of the children.’
‘Make suggestive remarks! Me!’ Nellie put a hand on her heart as she struggled to bring a hurt expression to her face. ‘When ’ave I ever said anythin’ suggestive in front of the children? Me, what goes to church every Sunday … I’d never do a thing like that.’
‘You just did!’
‘Why, what did I say? Now, come on, what did I say?’
Molly blew her breath out. ‘Yer know ruddy well what yer said! That the men might be in the mood when they come in. It doesn’t take a brain-box to figure out what yer were insinuating.’
Nellie looked around her as though seeking support from the furniture. ‘Molly Bennett, yer’ve got a bad mind or yer wouldn’t ’ave miscon … mistru … oh, yer wouldn’t have taken what I said the wrong way. Only people with bad minds think bad things.’
‘The word yer were lookin’ for is misconstrued … an’ I haven’t got a bad mind, either! Sometimes I don’t know where to put meself, the things you come out with.’ But Molly was running out of steam. When it came to acting, her friend could out-act Greta Garbo any day. ‘We both know damn well what yer meant when yer said the men might be “in the mood”.’
With a look of angelic innocence on her face Nellie said, ‘I only meant they might be in the mood for a cup of tea, girl, or a jam butty. What’s the harm in that?’
Molly was beaten and she knew it. She couldn’t hold out much longer anyway – the laughter was bubbling in her tummy, ready to explode any second. Throwing her hands in the air she said, ‘I give up! It’s like floggin’ a dead horse.’
Nellie preened, and a smile was spreading across her chubby face when they heard the key turn in the lock. She leaned towards Molly and whispered hurriedly, ‘You carry on bein’ a good, clean-livin’ girl, Molly, it’ll definitely earn yer a place in heaven. But me, I’m doomed for damnation anyway, so I’ve nothin’ to lose. I’m hopin’ my feller’s in the mood for more than a ruddy jam butty.’
Jack pushed the front door open and was greeted by peals of laughter. ‘Just listen to them,’ he said over his shoulder as he slipped the key out of the lock, ‘have yer ever known any like that pair in yer life?’
‘No, thank God,’ George chuckled. ‘I don’t think the world is big enough for another two like them.’
Chapter Two
‘Six more goes, then that’s me lot,’ Molly muttered through clenched teeth as she plunged the dolly peg up and down on the clothes in the tub. ‘If they’re not clean by now after bein’ in steep all night, they never will be.’
Her muscles aching, she rested her hand on top of the dolly peg and sighed as she watched the heavy rain hitting the window-panes so hard it sounded like small stones. ‘The weather’s enough to give yer a pain in the backside.’ Molly gave voice to her thoughts as she always did when she was alone in the house. Not that she would have cared if anyone was there to hear her because she enjoyed talking to herself. Her reply to anyone who said she was going doolally was that if you wanted an intelligent conversation, then the best person to have it with was yourself. T
hat way there was no argument so you won every time. ‘It’s me own fault for not takin’ notice of Jack. He told me this mornin’ when he was goin’ out to work that the heavens were goin’ to open, an’ he was right. But did I take any notice? Did I heckers like! Now I’m lumbered with this lot.’
Molly dallied for a while, thinking that if everything had gone to plan, the washing would be pegged out by now and she’d be scrubbing the front step. It just went to show you should never make plans because nothing was certain in this life … especially the flaming weather!
Lifting the dolly peg from the water, Molly held it over the tub for a few seconds until the excess water had dripped off, then she placed it on the floor. ‘I’ll rinse them out and put them through the mangle, then with a bit of luck the rain might ’ave cleared.’ She pulled a face as she put the plug in the sink and turned the tap on. ‘Ay, an’ pigs might fly.’
The folded washing was piled neatly on the draining board when Molly heard the latch drop on the yard door. ‘This’ll be Nellie.’ She had the door open ready for her friend to dash in out of the rain. ‘Wouldn’t the weather give yer the flamin’ willies?’
‘Yer ain’t kiddin’, girl! It’s cats and dogs out there!’ The raindrops were trickling from Nellie’s hair, down her face, over each of her chins, then disappearing down the neck of her dress to form a pool in the valley between her breasts. ‘Me coat an’ dress are soppin’ wet and me shoes are squelchin’.’
‘Give us yer coat an’ I’ll put it in front of the fire.’ Molly couldn’t help smiling at the sorry state of her friend. ‘I’d ask yer to take yer dress off, but I don’t think I could stand the sight of yer nearly naked … it might put me off me dinner.’
‘Well sod you, Molly Bennett! I’m drenched through to me bones an’ now I’m gettin’ insults thrown in!’ Nellie reached for the towel hanging on a nail behind the kitchen door and rubbed it briskly over her fine hair. ‘If ye’re hopin’ to get yer washin’ out, girl, yer can forget it. By the look of those dark clouds there’s a lot more rain to come.’