Strolling With The One I Love

by Joan Jonker

  ‘I’d be happy if they just frightened him, like he did Audrey,’ Winnie said. ‘I wouldn’t want them to murder him, even though I felt like doing it meself at the time.’

  ‘I’ll have to get home and put the dinner on, then look for me children,’ Kate said. ‘But yer will let us know the outcome, won’t yer, Sergeant?’ She waited for his nod, then crossed the street with Monica and Winnie following behind. She turned when they reached the other side, lifted her hand, and said, ‘Before yer ask, no, yer can’t come in for a cuppa. I’ve the dinner to see to, the kids to find, a pair of our Billy’s kecks to iron, and patching and darning to do. So leave me in peace until ten o’clock in the morning when I want to see yer all dolled up in yer finery.’ She suddenly put a hand to her mouth. ‘Oh, God, I forgot to tell Maggie! She’ll go mad if we turn up in the morning with a photographer and she opens the door to us in her pinny and mobcap.’

  ‘I’ll nip over and tell her, queen, and I’ll see yer in the morning.’ Winnie looked knowingly at Monica. ‘And you’ll see her in the morning, won’t yer?’

  ‘My God, talk about “here’s yer hat, what’s yer hurry” isn’t in it!’ Monica’s eyes rolled to the heavens. ‘For the first time in me life I feel not wanted.’

  ‘You fibber!’ Kate inserted the key in the lock. ‘I’ve told yer hundreds of times ye’re not wanted, but yer don’t take no notice. That doesn’t mean I don’t love yer, though, or you, Winnie. I love the bones of both of yer. Ta-ra for now.’

  It was ten minutes to ten when the photographer knocked, and Kate was glad she’d made the effort to be ready early, and have the children organized. They’d been sent out to play but told not to leave the street under any circumstances. When they wanted to know why, she’d tapped her nose and said they’d find out later, if her idea came to fruition.

  ‘Mrs Parry? My name’s Will Conley, I’m the photographer,’ her visitor introduced himself.

  ‘Come in, please, my friends will be here any minute. And I’m not Mrs Parry, I’m Mrs Spencer. Kate Spencer. There was a mix up yesterday and yer were given me next door neighbour’s name.’ Kate waved him to the sofa, her pride and joy. ‘Before they come I’ll explain what we want and why.’ This she did very quickly. ‘But we haven’t a clue what your charges are and whether we can afford yer.’

  ‘To cover me time, travel, films and developing, I charge ten shillings a photograph. Is that within your limits?’

  Kate nodded, thinking what a pleasant young man he was. ‘I was wondering if we could have a few children playing in the photo of the street? The lady we’re sending it to would know the children and it would make it more interesting for her. My son and his friend are eleven, they spend their spare time in the gutter playing ollies, we could easily include them. And my daughter and her friend, Mrs Parry’s daughter Dolly, could be playing with a skipping rope.’

  Will Conley’s laughter was hearty. ‘You wouldn’t like a job, Mrs Spencer, would you? I could do with an assistant with a bit of imagination.’

  Kate’s hand went to her throat. ‘Have I been too forward, trying to teach you your job?’

  ‘Not at all! I think your suggestion would be fine. Where are the children now?’

  ‘They won’t be far away. I told them to stay near, but didn’t tell them why. Shall I go and bring them in?’

  ‘No, I’ll come out with you, to get a feel of the street.’ His eyes widened in surprise when Kate took her shoe off and banged on the wall. And he roared with laughter when she said, ‘That’s to let me mate know we’re ready. The Indians had smoke signals and drums, but we manage very well with a shoe.’

  The next hour was very exciting and pleasant for the four women and children. Kate was afraid Billy would want to show off and sit up and look at the camera, instead of pose with head down and finger out to strike the ollie. Pete thought it was like being in a film, and he did everything he was told to do without a murmur. They were in the gutter outside the Spencers’ house, and Nancy and Dolly were a little higher up the street with their skipping ropes. There weren’t many neighbours out with it being quite early, but when Will took the photograph, there were two women walking down, one walking up, and lower down a man walking a dog. Will said he was very pleased with the shot. The four friends weren’t outside, of course, they were watching through Monica’s window.

  ‘Where do you want the other one taking?’ Will asked. ‘Outside the house directly opposite?’

  ‘No, that’s my house,’ Maggie said. ‘Miss Parkinson’s is the one next to mine, on the right. But it looks so different to when she lived there, ’cos there’s no curtains at the window.’

  Will had enjoyed his hour here, and he wanted to help. ‘I can always touch it up, if you’d like me to?’

  ‘How d’yer mean, lad, touch it up?’ Winnie asked.

  ‘Well, I can’t make it exactly as she had it with curtains and nets, but as yer really don’t see the draw curtains from outside, I can make it look as though there are nets up.’

  ‘That would be wonderful if you could,’ Kate told him. ‘She’ll have happy memories of that little house, and I’d hate her to be sad about how it looks now.’

  ‘Let’s go over and you can tell me where you want to stand. And because of your reasons for wanting the photographs, I will only charge you seven and six for each. That’s fifteen shillings for the two.’

  As they crossed the cobbles, Kate pulled on Monica’s arm. ‘I wonder what he’d charge for copies? I’d love one of each, how about you?’

  ‘Ooh, yeah! Especially the one with Dolly on. I’d frame it and stand it on the sideboard, so when she grows older, she’ll be able to look back and see what she was like as a kid.’

  ‘Well, I’ve done my share today, sunshine, so you can take it from here. Ask him nicely how much he’d charge for copies.’

  ‘I heard that, queen,’ Winnie said in a low voice. ‘Count me in.’

  But in the end it was Kate who asked. Will had just taken a photograph of the four women standing between Maggie’s house and the empty one, making sure he got all of Miss Parkinson’s house in, and as Kate was nearest to him it was to her he spoke. ‘I hope you’ll be pleased with the end result, Mrs Spencer, I’m pretty sure you will be. It will take a few days to develop them, and I’ll drop them off to you when I’m in the area.’

  A little nervously, she asked, ‘Do I pay yer now or when yer bring the photographs?’

  ‘Never pay in advance for anything, Mrs Spencer. You pay when you and your friends have looked at and approve them.’

  ‘Well, me and me friends were wondering how much yer charge for extra prints? Yer see, we’d all like one of each, on top of the ones for Miss Parkinson.’

  ‘That would make another eight prints.’ Will Conley looked doubtful. The photographs he took weren’t like the ones taken by an ordinary Brownie camera, they were six by eight and on good quality paper. ‘That’s a lot of prints, Mrs Spencer.’

  ‘Look, instead of haggling, and pussyfooting about, why don’t we tell the man what we can afford?’ Monica faced him. ‘Ye’re charging fifteen bob for the two we asked for, and that is less than yer usually charge for which we’re grateful. Altogether we’ve got thirty shillings, so how far would that go towards the extra prints?’

  ‘That would cover them, Mrs Parry. Expenses, everything.’

  Even if he wasn’t going to make very much on the deal, the smiles on the women’s faces more than made up for it. But there was one little matter he must put straight to ease his conscience. ‘Mrs Parry, don’t you think we should tell Mrs Spencer that I had knocked on your door first, and you said not to tell her that, ’cos it was a little joke yer were playing on her?’ He grinned into Kate’s surprised face. ‘I knew you weren’t Mrs Parry, and if the joke fell flat, I don’t want to get the blame for it.’

  Kate looked at her friend and shook her head. ‘Yer’ll get me hung one of these days, you will, with yer little jokes. But I suppose it was me
own fault so I’ll let yer off. And you, Mr Conley, I’ll let you off, too. It’s not your fault I’ve got a holy terror for a mate.’

  Will grinned. ‘So when you open the door to me, in a few days’ time, you won’t have a bucket of water in your hand to throw over me?’

  ‘I don’t play tricks like that on people. Yer see, I wouldn’t think it was funny.’

  ‘I’d think it was hilarious,’ Monica chuckled. ‘Mind you, I wouldn’t do that to someone like yerself who’s over six foot, I’d pick on a little ’un like Winnie, here.’

  ‘Oh, aye, well, yer might find yer’d picked on more than yer bargained for.’ Winnie quivered, putting those watching in mind of a bird ruffling its feathers. ‘I may be little but I make up for it in other ways.’

  ‘I can vouch for that,’ Maggie said. ‘I’ve seen Winnie standing up to a woman twice her size, and coming off best.’

  Will put the strap of his camera bag over his shoulder, saying, ‘I’m on my way, before Winnie wants to prove she can lick a six-footer. Being tall doesn’t make you a hero.’ He smiled at each of the ladies. ‘I’ll see you in a few days’ time. Goodbye until then.’

  ‘What a nice man,’ Maggie said. ‘A real gent if ever I saw one.’

  ‘I agree,’ Kate said. ‘A really nice bloke. And we’re getting all those pictures for the exact money we got for the bed.’

  ‘Hang about a bit, missus, where do I come into this?’ Monica asked. ‘I’m the one what got him to give us them cheap. So don’t yer be taking all the praise, Mrs Parry!’

  ‘I’ll kill yer for that, sunshine, ’cos yer made a fool of me. I told him when I let him in that I wasn’t Mrs Parry, and the poor man must have felt awful pretending he didn’t know.’ But Kate couldn’t keep her feeling of joy back any longer. Lifting her skirt, she began to hum a tune as she danced an Irish jig. She was joined first by Winnie, who felt as happy as she did after six milk stouts, and then Monica lifted her skirts and knees, and because she didn’t know any Irish songs that you could jig to, she decided that ‘When Father Painted The Parlour, Yer Couldn’t See Pa For Paint’ was as good as any.

  Maggie wasn’t as outgoing as her three neighbours, but now she said to herself as she lifted her skirts, ‘If yer can’t lick ’em, join ’em!’

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  It was on the Thursday morning that Will Conley called to Kate’s house with the photographs. They were in a large buff envelope, and as he handed it over, he said, ‘I hope you and your friends will be pleased.’

  ‘Ooh, I’m so excited!’ Kate was like a schoolgirl who had been offered a treat. ‘But I don’t want to take them out of the envelope yet, not until all me friends are here.’ She laid the envelope down on the table as carefully as if it contained the crown jewels. Then, much to Will’s amusement, she took off her shoe and banged on the wall. She waited three seconds and then banged again. She grinned as she bent to put her shoe back on. ‘One knock means when you’re ready, two knocks mean it’s important, so I’ll open the door for Monica.’

  Monica came dashing in, still with her pinny tied around her waist. She groaned aloud when she saw Will. ‘Why didn’t yer tell me yer had company? Look at the flipping sight of me!’

  ‘How can I tell yer that with a shoe? Anyway, take yer pinny off and nip down for Winnie while I fetch Maggie. And don’t stand gabbing, I’m dying to see the photographs.’

  Monica saluted. ‘Yes, boss, all right, boss, three bags full, boss.’ With that she took to her heels to deliver the message.

  Kate had her foot on the step when Maggie’s door opened. As she closed it behind her, she explained, ‘I saw him knocking at yer door, love, so I thought I’d save yer a journey and yer shoe leather.’

  Five minutes later the four women were standing at the table looking down at the envelope while Will sat with his fingers crossed that they wouldn’t be disappointed. He didn’t think they would be because he was pleased with the way the photographs had turned out.

  ‘Well, are we going to stand here all morning looking at the bleeding envelope?’ Monica tutted. ‘It’s your house, girl, and it’s your table, so open it up! It won’t bite yer! And be quick, before we all die of curiosity.’

  ‘Don’t you dare die in my house, Monica Parry, I won’t have it. If yer think ye’re going to peg out, have a little consideration for me and go outside to do it.’

  Winnie got tired of waiting and picked up the envelope. ‘Just in case she does, I think she should be allowed to see the photies first. Yer know what I mean, like, queen, we’d be granting her her last wish.’ With that the envelope was tipped up and there was a flurry of photographs. Then came the jostling as hands reached out to claim two each.

  ‘Oh, my God, look at our street!’ Winnie was amazed. ‘It’s just like it is, I’d know it anywhere.’

  This brought a titter. ‘Well, yer’d have something to say if it looked like County Road, wouldn’t yer, sunshine?’ Kate’s eyes were taking in her daughter and son, and she felt a swell of pride. ‘Isn’t it wonderful what a camera can do? Oh, I’ll have to get this framed and stand it where it can be seen.’

  ‘Or hang it on the wall, queen, that’s a good place.’ Winnie was holding a print in each hand. ‘Wait until Miss Parkinson sees them, she’ll be really pleased.’

  ‘Yes, the only thing that mars the one of her house is the four ugly buggers standing near it.’ Maggie didn’t really think that, she thought she came out very well. Just wait until her husband saw it, he’d be flabbergasted. ‘And yer did well with the windows, lad, yer really would think there was nets up. How did yer manage that?’

  ‘Trick of the trade,’ Will said, very happy with the reaction of the ladies. ‘And I think all four of you look very attractive and glamorous.’

  ‘There yer are,’ Monica said, nodding her head at Kate. ‘I told yer he was a gent, didn’t I? And he’s proved it by making us look like film stars.’

  ‘I dunno, the one on the end looks like King Kong.’ Winnie put her eyes close to the photograph, then pretended to be shocked with an exaggerated backward stagger. ‘It’s me! I can tell by me dress! What have yer done to me, lad?’

  Monica went one better. ‘I don’t know what you’re moaning about, look at me! He’s given me a moustache and beard!’

  Kate looked across to Will, who seemed content and pleased with himself. ‘I’ve got to say yer’ve done a really good job, and as yer can tell, me and me mates are more than satisfied. We’ve never had our photograph taken before so we’ll be spending the next half hour going over every detail. So would yer like a cup of tea while ye’re waiting, or are yer rushing off to another job? If ye’re in a hurry, I can pay yer now, save yer waiting.’

  ‘I’m all right for half an hour, and I’d love that cup of tea you kindly offered.’ Will was experiencing a feeling of peace and wellbeing. It wasn’t often his clients were as entertaining and humorous as these ladies. His next assignment was a large warehouse on the Dock Road. He wouldn’t get much of a laugh out of bricks and mortar.

  ‘If I made you a cup of tea and left me mates out, there’d be holy murder and the air would be blue. But as I’m not well off for decent cups and saucers, I’m going to have to ask me neighbour and best mate if she’ll help me out. Go on, Monica, be an angel and nip home for some. Oh, and will yer bring some milk with yer, please?’

  ‘Well, I’ll be blowed! How’s that for cheek? If I want a cup of tea I’ve got to bring me own cup! Oh, and milk! I don’t suppose yer’d like me to bring sugar as well, would yer?’

  Kate grinned. ‘No, I’m all right for sugar, sunshine, but it was thoughtful of yer to ask. A plate of biscuits would be very welcome, though.’

  ‘Ooh, that’s nice,’ Winnie said, pulling out a chair and sitting down. ‘I’m glad yer came, lad, ’cos now we can have a little tea party. And yer deserve it, ’cos there’s few people round here ever had their photie took, and you’ve done a real good job.’

  The other women vo
iced their agreement, then Monica made off to pick out any cups she could find with a handle and free from chips and cracks plus whatever biscuits she could rustle up. She’d be lucky if she could find any biscuits in one piece, ’cos she usually bought broken ones from the corner shop. Still, she might find the odd one, and she’d make sure it went on the bloke’s saucer before the women started to help themselves.

  Five minutes later, Monica stepped down on to the pavement with two cups and saucers in one hand, and a plate of mixed broken biscuits in the other. Then she looked at the open door and wondered how she was going to close it. Help arrived in the shape of Sergeant Bridgewater. He hurried across the cobbles after seeing her dilemma, and was about to relieve her of the plate of biscuits when she said, ‘Close the door for us, please, and I’ll carry these. What brings yer down here anyway?’

  ‘The trial was yesterday and I did promise to let you know the outcome.’

  ‘Oh, yeah, I’d forgotten about that. Don’t tell me yet, come in next door. All my friends are there and we can hear it together.’

  There was a loud babble of voices as they walked into the living room but it died down when they saw who Monica had brought in with her. ‘Look who I found,’ she said, handing over the crockery to Kate. ‘And finders are keepers, so keep yer hands off.’

  ‘Hello, Sergeant.’ Kate’s eyes darted around the room. ‘I know me place looks untidy, but it’s only because half the street are here.’

  Geoff Bridgewater chuckled when he heard the loud objections. ‘I believe the lovely ladies enhance the room. But I forget my manners, I see we have a gentleman in the company too.’

  When Kate introduced the two men, Will jumped to his feet, an act noted by the women who were to say later that it was a pity all men, including their own, weren’t so hot on good manners.

  When the officer was seated, Kate handed him one of each of the photographs. ‘These were taken by Mr Conley, and we’ll be sending them to Miss Parkinson in the next day or two. Haven’t they come out well?’