MB03 - Sweet Rosie O’Grady

by Joan Jonker

  ‘We’re lucky we’ve got the sea all around us, Nellie, he wouldn’t find us a walk-over, not like the other countries.’ Molly sighed. ‘I find it hard to believe that it’s really happened. All the talk there was about that Maginot line that France had … they said no one would ever get through that. They were probably right, too, that’s why Hitler didn’t even try – he just went round the ruddy thing! He outsmarted the lot of them, but wouldn’t yer think the French, or one of our lot, would have had the brains to think of that?’

  ‘I’ve given up tryin’ to figure any of it out, girl.’ Nellie’s chins wobbled in agreement. ‘But there’s one thing that’s really got me flummoxed. I’ll never understand it if I live to be a hundred.’

  ‘What’s that, sunshine?’

  ‘Well, d’yer know when the French declared Paris an open city? I couldn’t make head nor tail of it, so I asked my feller. An’ he said it was to stop the Germans from bombing it. Now I ask yer, if there’s a ruddy war on, how can yer say I don’t want yer to bomb that so I’m makin’ it an open city? Sounds ridiculous to me. I mean, why can’t we say to Hitler that we’re making Liverpool an open city, so keep yer hands off!’

  Molly smiled at her friend’s logic. ‘I don’t know much more than you do, sunshine, but I don’t think it means what you think it means. According to Jack, the French were prepared to hand Paris over to the Germans to save it from being bombed, like Rotterdam was.’

  ‘Well I never heard anythin’ like it in all me born days.’ Nellie’s face was flushed with temper. ‘Yer mean they just handed it to him on a plate, never even put up a fight?’

  ‘Yer can’t blame the ordinary French people for it, Nellie, ’cos they didn’t have the option. It’s the government that makes the decisions, just like ours does. We don’t get asked what we want, do we? When one of our lads gets his calling-up papers, he can’t say “Oh, I’m sorry, but I really don’t want to join the army.” He gets a rifle stuck in his hand and he goes where he’s sent, like it or lump it.’

  ‘I’ve got a feelin’ in me bones that our Steve will be gettin’ his call-up papers soon.’ A shiver ran through Nellie’s body. ‘They’ll be conscripting all the young ones, reserved occupation or not.’

  Molly had been harbouring the same fear for a while, but she didn’t want to upset her friend by voicing it. ‘Nobody knows from day to day what’s going to happen, sunshine, we can only hope for the best. But don’t forget there’s a lot worse off than us. Look at all the foreign lads walking around Liverpool looking lost. Yer’ve only got to walk down Church Street or Lord Street and yer’ll pass every nationality under the sun. French, Dutch, Belgian – you name them an’ we’ve got them here. Poor buggers, can’t get back to their countries and haven’t a clue what’s happened to their families. So we should be counting our blessings, sunshine, ’cos there’s millions would swap places with us if they had the chance.’

  ‘Yeah, what ye’re sayin’ is true, girl.’ Nellie smiled as she raised an arm from the table to give her wrist a resounding slap. ‘That’s for bein’ a moanin’ Minnie, Nellie McDonough, so behave yerself.’

  ‘How’s your Lily gettin’ on with that feller?’ Molly asked, changing the conversation to something a bit brighter. ‘Is she still courting?’

  ‘Yer mean Paul? Yeah, he’s round nearly every night.’ Nellie started to chuckle and her whole body shook. ‘I’m goin’ to leave it for a few months, then if they’re still courtin’ I’ll ask him if his intentions are honourable.’ Her eyes screwed up tight, she took a couple of deep breaths to stem her laughter, then she said, ‘If he says his intentions towards my daughter are serious, I’m goin’ to tell him they’ll have to get married around the same time as Jill and Steve.’ She noted the surprised expression on Molly’s face and went on quickly, ‘If that’s too soon, I’ll give them until your Doreen and Phil tie the knot. That way, we can use the same hats for all the weddings. We can’t waste good money, now can we, girl? It doesn’t grow on ruddy trees … not around here, anyway, seein’ as how we haven’t got any trees.’

  Molly shook her head. ‘Nellie McDonough, you can move from one subject to another quicker than anyone I know. In two minutes we’ve gone from Hitler to your Lily getting married! She’s only known the lad five minutes an’ yer’ve got them married off already! If he hears yer talking like that he’ll be showin’ a clean pair of heels.’

  ‘He better hadn’t, not if he knows what’s good for him.’ When Nellie’s head went down, her turban slipped forward to cover her eyes. Pushing it back, she said, ‘I’ve welcomed that lad into the family with open arms, waited on him hand an’ foot and kept a tight rein on me tongue so as not to put him off. Not one swear-word has left me lips, I haven’t told one dirty joke in front of him, and I’m not havin’ all that effort wasted just to have him turn tail and run.’

  Molly’s imagination was working overtime. ‘I can see him legging it down the street with you in hot pursuit, waving a rolling pin in the air.’

  ‘Make it a shotgun, girl, it sounds more dramatic. But it hasn’t been easy for me bein’ polite all the time, yer know what my mouth is like, I’ve no control over it sometimes. But I’ve been like a ruddy angel in front of Paul, honest to God I have.’

  Molly smiled. ‘A real paragon of virtue, eh, sunshine?’

  Nellie frowned. ‘What does that mean, girl? Are yer praisin’ me or insulting me?’

  ‘Praising you, sunshine.’

  Nellie pursed her lips and nodded. ‘That’s all right, then.’ She folded her arms and hitched up her massive bosom. ‘D’yer know, I feel a whole lot better after that little laugh,’ she said. ‘We’ve been dead bloody miserable lately.’

  ‘Well there hasn’t been much to laugh about, has there? I’ll be glad when Phil’s transferred to a hospital near here, so we can see for ourselves how bad his injuries are. He’s very cagey about it in his letters to Doreen and Miss Clegg, and so they think he can’t be that bad. But I’m not so sure. If it wasn’t anything serious they wouldn’t keep him in hospital, they’d have sent him home by now.’

  Nellie placed her palms flat on the table and pushed herself up from the chair. ‘Ay, I’m on me way before we start gettin’ all miserable again. Yer can worry until the cows come home, girl, but it won’t alter anything. So just look on the bright side.’ She waddled towards the door. ‘I’ll see yer later.’

  ‘Yeah, OK, sunshine.’ Molly picked up the two cups. ‘I’ll give yer a knock when I’m ready to go to the shops.’

  Tommy was leaning against the wall by Ginger’s front door, his hands in his trouser pockets. ‘Which flicks are we goin’ to tomorrow night?’

  ‘I wouldn’t mind goin’ to the Broadway to see James Cagney and Pat O’Brien in that gangster film.’ Ginger’s freckled face split into a grin. ‘It’s always a crackin’ picture when them two are in it.’

  ‘Yeah, OK, that’s all right by me.’ Tommy straightened up and took his hands from his pockets. Trying to sound casual, he asked, ‘Why don’t yer ask Rosie if she’d like to come with us?’

  Ginger stepped back, shaking his head. ‘Not on yer life! I’ve tried that once and she turned me down – I’m not stickin’ me neck out again.’

  ‘But yer wouldn’t be askin’ her to go out with yer on yer own, I’d be with yer! She’ll come if the three of us are going.’ Tommy lifted his leg and brushed an imaginary speck off his shoe. ‘Or don’t yer fancy her any more?’

  ‘I fancy her all right, but I don’t fancy bein’ told no again. Why don’t you ask her, she’d probably say yes if you asked.’

  ‘You’re the one that fancies her, not me! I only suggested it because I thought if she came out with the two of us, then you could ask her out one night on her own. I was trying to do yer a favour.’ Tommy hadn’t been expecting his friend to refuse, and was at a loss. ‘I’ll come round with yer if yer like, for a bit of moral support, but you’ve got to do the asking.’

  Ginger tilted his head an
d narrowed his eyes. ‘You must think I’m tuppence short of a shilling! You won’t ask her yerself ’cos yer haven’t got the nerve, so yer want soft lad here to do it.’

  ‘I’m not frightened to ask her! If the day ever comes that I’m afraid of Rosie O’Grady, then I’ll eat me flamin’ hat!’ Tommy squared his shoulders and threw out his chest. ‘She’s only a flippin’ girl!’

  ‘I bet yer any money yer wouldn’t have the nerve to ask her.’ Ginger threw down the challenge. ‘A tanner says yer haven’t got the bottle.’

  Tommy turned his head from one side to the other, as though somewhere in that silent street lay the solution to his problem. If he refused to pick up Ginger’s dare, he’d never live it down. ‘OK, let’s go.’

  ‘Oh, no,’ Ginger said, ‘you’re the one who’s not afraid of her, the big he-man, so it should be easy for yer.’ He leant against the wall, a smirk on his face. ‘I’ll wait here for yer.’

  ‘Ye’re like a flippin’ big soft kid, you are,’ Tommy spluttered. ‘All this because I wanted to do yer a favour.’

  ‘Well if yer ask her, an’ she says yes, then yer’ll have done me a favour, won’t yer? And yer’ll have won a tanner into the bargain.’

  Doing his best to look nonchalant, even though his heart was thudding and he was calling himself all the stupid beggars under the sun for getting himself into this mess, Tommy sauntered away. ‘I’ll be back in fifteen minutes, so have me tanner ready.’

  Rosie opened the door to Tommy’s knock. ‘Oh, it’s yerself, is it? Come on in.’

  Tommy’s voice, when he could find it, was low and gruff. ‘I won’t come in, Rosie, I just came round to ask if yer’d like to come to the pictures tomorrow night with me and Ginger.’

  Rosie moved to the edge of the top step and met his eyes. ‘Is it Ginger who wants me to come but doesn’t have the nerve to ask me himself?’

  ‘Er, well, er, no, we’d both like yer to come.’ Tommy was hoping the evening dusk would hide his blush. This wasn’t working out as he’d planned. He was wishing now he’d kept his trap shut. ‘Yer don’t have to if yer don’t want to.’

  ‘Sure don’t I know that, Tommy Bennett? I’d not be doing anythin’ I didn’t want to, and that’s the truth of it.’ The dusk that was hiding Tommy’s embarrassment also hid the gleam in Rosie’s eyes. ‘But before I give yer me answer, I’d like to know what brought on this generous offer. Was it Ginger’s idea, or yours?’

  ‘I told yer, it was both of us!’ Tommy moved uncomfortably from one foot to the other. ‘Look, you obviously don’t want to come, so let’s just skip it, eh?’

  ‘Now I haven’t said I don’t want to go out with you so don’t be putting words into me mouth.’ Rosie folded her arms and leant against the door jamb. ‘So the invitation is from you,’ she hesitated just for a second, then added, ‘and Ginger?’

  ‘I said that, didn’t I?’ Tommy was wishing he’d given Ginger the tanner stake money instead of going through this. ‘Hurry up, Rosie, it’s late an’ I’m up early in the morning.’

  Rosie didn’t answer right away: she stood tapping a finger on her chin as though giving the invitation some deep thought. Then she smiled and nodded. ‘I’ll be delighted to come with you, Tommy, so what time will you and Ginger call for me?’

  Oh lord, Tommy groaned inwardly. He could visualize smiles and nudges from his nan and grandad, and just wait until the family found out – he’d get his leg pulled soft. But there was no going back on it now, not unless he wanted to make a laughing-stock of himself. ‘We’ll pick yer up about seven o’clock,’ he said grudgingly, ‘so will yer be ready, ’cos we’re going to the Broadway.’

  ‘I’ll be ready, Tommy.’ Rosie put her hand on the door catch. ‘Goodnight to yer.’ And without further ado she shut the door in his face and skipped down the hall, eager to let Auntie Bridget and Uncle Bob know of the latest development in her plan to snare their grandson.

  Rosie sat in the picture house between Tommy and Ginger. They had insisted on paying for her ticket, putting threepence each towards it. She looked very pretty in a short-sleeved, pale blue dress with a scoop neckline, a nipped-in waist and a flared skirt. Her black hair had been brushed until it shone, and the mass of curls bounced around her face and shoulders when she turned her head to speak to one or the other. When the lights dimmed for the start of the big picture, Tommy caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and nearly gasped aloud when Ginger produced a small box of Cadbury’s chocolates from his pocket and placed them on Rosie’s lap. Well, the sly beggar, Tommy thought, feeling a pang of jealousy for the second time in his young life. He didn’t know it was jealousy of course, he thought it was anger against Ginger for being so underhand. Fancy him doing that without telling him! He’d have gone halves with him to buy it if he’d let on, then it wouldn’t have looked as though he was too mean to buy her sweets.

  ‘Oh, thank you Ginger, that’s very kind of yer, so it is.’ Rosie smiled at Ginger before holding the box towards Tommy. ‘See, Tommy, isn’t Ginger thoughtful?’

  Right at that moment Tommy was wishing he had his fingers round his mate’s neck. Fancy showing him up like that, the creep! ‘I’ll get them next time,’ he growled.

  Tommy usually enjoyed tough gangster films, but he was too busy watching Ginger to take much notice of what was going on on the screen. Just let him try and hold her hand, he thought, and I’ll knock his flipping block off. Stupid nit, he’s acting like a lovesick kid. Never once did Tommy question his own feelings. As far as he was concerned he was only protecting Rosie, like his nan would expect him to.

  At one point in the film, James Cagney, playing the baddie as usual, pointed a gun at Pat O’Brien’s head and brought forth a gasp of horror from Rosie. She covered her face with her hands and cried, ‘Ooh, he’s a terrible man, so he is! Sure I’ll be having nightmares if I watch any more. Let me know when it’s over.’

  Tommy was about to tell her not to be daft, it was only a film, but Ginger got there before him. Patting her hand, his voice full of concern, he said, ‘Don’t worry, I know how it ends. Cagney doesn’t shoot him ’cos they’ve been pals since they were kids together. I’ll tell yer when this bit’s over.’

  Tommy leaned forward to glare at his mate, and if looks could kill Ginger would have been the one to drop down dead and not Pat O’Brien. But Ginger was oblivious to the scowl – he was too busy watching Rosie. And it was at that precise moment that Tommy allowed the truth to enter his mind and it hit him like a sledgehammer. He was jealous! He wasn’t trying to do Ginger a favour – he was just using his mate as an excuse to get closer to Rosie! Well, from now on it was every man for himself. Ginger wasn’t his mate, he was his rival.

  If Tommy’s gaze had lingered on Rosie and not Ginger, he might have seen the bright eyes peeping between her fingers. She was enjoying every minute of this. The more restless Tommy became, the happier she was. She didn’t care whether James Cagney killed Pat O’Brien or not! At least she would care if it was real: Pat O’Brien seemed like a good, kindly Irishman and she certainly wouldn’t wish him any harm. But what was happening on the screen was only make-believe. What was happening in the sixpenny seats in that darkened cinema was real life, and she was relishing every second of it.

  The two boys hardly spoke a word to each other on the way home. Rosie chatted to both of them, favouring them equally. And when they stepped on the tram it was silently agreed that they would sit upstairs on the long back seat so neither lad had the advantage of sitting next to Rosie.

  Their antics when they alighted from the tram would have kept Molly and Nellie laughing for weeks. They walked up the street, one either side of Rosie, until they came to the crossroads where she would turn off for home. Ginger had been hoping Tommy would leave them when they passed his house, but no, he was still with them when they reached the turning. ‘I’ll see Rosie home,’ Ginger said, ‘you needn’t bother.’

  ‘Oh, it’s no bother to me.’ Tommy stood his ground w
hile Rosie looked from one to the other, trying hard not to laugh. She knew what she wanted all right, but she wasn’t going to take sides, not tonight anyway. If Tommy wanted her, it wouldn’t do him any harm to have to put up a bit of a fight. ‘You buzz off, I’ll see she gets home safe.’

  Ginger shook his head, equally emphatic in his determination. ‘We’ll both walk her home. It’s not late, and we can have a lie-in tomorrow.’

  So the three of them set off, the two lads glowering at each other while Rosie, the little minx, walked with a spring in her step. Her cup of happiness was indeed overflowing.

  When Doreen arrived home from work on the Monday night it was to find her mother pacing the floor. Her heart skipped a beat and she knew a moment of fear until she recognized the expression on her mam’s face was one of excitement and pleasure. ‘Good news, Mam?’

  ‘I’ll say!’ Molly was grinning from ear to ear. ‘It’s been quite a day for good news, I can tell yer. But I won’t keep you in suspense, so we’ll start with yours. Phil’s been transferred to Walton Hospital.’

  Doreen sat down on the nearest chair, her face white. ‘When and how did yer find out?’

  ‘He rang Maisie, said you could go in any time tomorrow morning after ten o’clock. It’ll mean yer takin’ time off work, but they shouldn’t mind under the circumstances.’