Alex heard the roar of an engine and, nerves jittering, quickly stepped back into the shadows. The delivery van drew to a halt and, as the driver jumped out, he left the door swinging open before plunging into the post office. The agreement was that he would do that while he went in to ask directions.
Wasting no more time on second thoughts or doubts, Alex sprinted to the van, dragged out the couple of boxes that had been left strategically placed and, after placing a fiver on the driver’s seat, carried them away at speed. Within seconds he was back in the shadows of the alleyway, and could hear the driver calling out a thank you to the postmistress, before leaping back into the van and driving off. In just two minutes, the chap had earned himself five quid. Not a bad morning’s work.
Heart beating madly, Alex looked down at the two large boxes he’d tucked behind a dustbin and burst out laughing. So what had he earned? This wasn’t the moment, or the place, to investigate. He lifted the boxes back into his arms and marched smartly away, heading for the allotment where his late grandfather used to grow vegetables and keep hens. In theory it now belonged to his Aunt Mary and Uncle Joe, but, being quite old now, neither of them spent much time there. Having helped himself to the key from the kitchen rack, he let himself into the shed where he deposited his booty.
When he opened the boxes up, Alex was delighted to see that they were packed with cigarettes and cigars, exactly as he had hoped. Not only that, but also a small parcel of lighters, quite pretty ones in silver.
‘How easy was that?’ he chuckled to himself, convinced that he could sell all of this stuff for an excellent price, with the assistance of his new mate, Eddie. Life was definitely on the up and up.
A few days later, his inside pockets stuffed with notes and the shed once more hosting only garden tools and seed potatoes, Alex decided to call upon Rona for a cup of tea, as he liked to do at this time of day. She was an intriguing and sexy woman, despite her age, most voluptuous and deliciously flirtatious. Not necessarily his type, but he did love to tease and flirt with her.
Today, when she handed him a mug of tea and a slice of cake she again claimed to have baked herself, despite it being in a box with the name Co-op written on it, he thanked her for helping him win Cathie back. ‘Is she aware that you told me something of your family history, or at least the baby’s, which I freely admit I found fascinating.’
Rona shook her head, giving a sly little grin. ‘Nay, lad, that’s just between you and me. I did think thee might change your mind when you learned of what was sitting in a bank account left by my late daughter’s generous husband. The child is well provided for, so taking her on will not prove to be expensive.’
‘That’s something of a relief,’ Alex admitted. ‘Particularly considering the sad state of the economy and lack of jobs.’
‘Aye, although it does work both ways. Bearing in mind the status and wealth of your family, I decided pairing the two of you off could bring nowt but good.’
Alex burst out laughing. ‘Touché, then it’s a deal, and it will be a secret well kept. I’d hate Cathie to think I was only marrying her for the money,’ he said, a carefully bland expression marking his face. ‘She’s a lovely girl and I’m sure she’ll make me a wonderful wife. I couldn’t be happier.’
‘Just make sure that you provide her with an equally wonderful husband. My own experience of marriage was not a good one, but I want Cathie’s to be, particularly as the lass clearly loves you. I thought it might help for you to understand the financial situation with regards to little Heather. The child will cost you nowt.’
‘Oh I do, I do, and will honour your wish to provide her with a good life.’ At least to begin with, he thought, until I get my hands on that blessed cash. What happens after that rather depends on how I feel about being stuck with someone else’s offspring. ‘Now I have something for you,’ he said, handing over one of the cigarette lighters as a gift. ‘You deserve a present for helping to bring us together. I couldn’t have achieved such a satisfactory result without you.’
‘Ooh, don’t mention it, lad,’ Rona said, as she excitedly opened the box. ‘I’m available to help at any time, in any way. Just say the word.’
‘I’ll remember that.’
Preparations for the wedding were progressing, if rather slowly. ‘I’m afraid if you were dreaming of a rather grand ceremony, it’s not going to happen,’ Alex sadly informed Cathie. ‘It will need to be quite a small celebration. The reason being that we’ll have to pay for it ourselves.’
This came as no surprise to Cathie, as Rona certainly could not afford to finance a wedding, and if Alex’s family had made no offer to do so either, there would be no other choice. Not that it troubled her in the slightest. Being Alex’s wife was far more important to her than a fancy ceremony. And if his family didn’t approve because of where she lived, or they still believed the baby to be hers, what did that matter? Let them think what they liked. At least Alex believed in her now.
‘You should be aware that I don’t have much in the way of savings, not now that I’m unemployed,’ she told him. ‘But I assume you still have some of your demob money left?’
‘Er, I’ve spent quite a bit of it, as it was intended to allow me three months’ leave before finding a job, which I badly needed since I’ve been overseas for so long.’
‘Weren’t you ever granted leave in Egypt?’ she asked.
‘Yes, we’d go to Cairo, but not very often. And, as I told you, I felt in dire need to get out and about and have some fun. But I assure you that there’s sufficient money left to pay for a wedding, and a few months’ rent in advance on a house or flat, once we find one.’ He said nothing of the pot of cash he’d just earned from a little black marketing deal. The less said about that the better.
‘We’ll manage fine then,’ Cathie assured him, giving him a kiss. ‘We can keep costs low. I shall bake a simple, two-tiered wedding cake, and Mam has some little pottery pillars left over from her own wedding, which I can borrow to hold it in place.’
‘What a talented lady you are,’ he said, pulling her into his arms to give her yet more kisses and fondle her soft breasts. She wriggled free, giving him a playful tap on the hand.
‘Naughty, naughty, remember that patience is a virtue you must learn to cultivate.’ She laughed. ‘I also have some lengths of parachute silk to make into a wedding dress, which I’ve already started work on.’
Cathie thought of the way she and her mother had been using flawed parachute silk for some years to make their own underwear. But then this was the era of ‘make do and mend’. She could only hope it would prove to be pretty enough to please him, when eventually he viewed her in it. ‘I’ve dyed some of the parachute silk pale blue to make up into bridesmaid’s dresses for Brenda and Davina.’
‘Davina?’ he asked, his eyes widening in surprise. ‘Davina is to be one of your bridesmaids?’
‘Of course, she’s a good friend.’
He took a moment before asking, ‘Even though she gave away your secret about the baby?’
Cathie frowned. ‘What secret? Heather is not a secret. I just hadn’t got around to explaining to you that I wished to adopt my baby niece.’
His mouth twisted into a little smirk. ‘Except that Davina did plainly state the child was yours.’
‘I think you misunderstood or misheard her. I explained it all to you at the time, so let’s not keep going over that.’ Alex looked almost relieved by this remark, which pleased her, although his comment was deeply puzzling. Surely he wasn’t still suggesting that baby Heather was her child? Had he even listened properly to her explanation? It worried her at times that he seemed far more interested in kissing her than taking part in any sort of conversation between them. Was that the effect of war as well, or because of his loneliness over those long years abroad?
But, as he now seemed happy enough to walk out with her of an afternoon, even if he never touched the pram, let alone the baby, Cathie decided she would set the subject
aside and concentrate on their future together. She too must be patient and allow him time to adjust to Civvy Street.
With the shortage of houses being what it was, the task of finding a home of their own was proving to be an impossible task. They walked mile upon mile, scouring every inch of Castlefield before moving on to other parts of Manchester. Here and there they might be offered a single room to rent, but Alex refused to even contemplate one of those, dismissing them all as dingy shambles. Cathie couldn’t help but agree, yet that was the state of the entire country right now, a broken mess on the verge of bankruptcy.
It was becoming increasingly clear that they would have no choice but to move in with his parents. She certainly had no wish to live with Rona, particularly as she appeared to have developed a fancy for Alex. Her rapacious mother simply couldn’t resist an attractive man.
‘I’ll speak to my parents, and let you know what they think,’ Alex said. ‘The house in St John Street is quite large, so perhaps they’ll be willing to let us rent a couple of rooms on the top floor.’
‘With the servants?’ Cathie asked with a giggle.
‘Possibly,’ he agreed. ‘Would that be a problem for you?’
‘Not in the least! As long as I’m with you, darling, I really don’t mind where I live. And at least your house will be clean.’
‘Then assuming I get my parents’ agreement, that’s what we’ll do until we can raise enough money to buy or rent some place of our own, which I’m sure we’ll succeed in doing if we put our heads together and devise a plan. I’m working on it already. What about you? I don’t suppose you have a pot of cash squirrelled away somewhere?’
Cathie burst out laughing. ‘Now who’s dreaming?’
‘You want to bring that foolish girl to live here with us?’ Dorothy snapped. ‘Have you taken leave of your senses? I thought you’d ended that stupid engagement.’
‘I’m delighted to say that it’s on again,’ Alex told his mother with an arrogant little smile. ‘She’s a very sweet girl, and does insist that the child is not hers, so I’ve decided to believe her.’ That wasn’t strictly true, but he had no wish to discuss any other reasons he might have of re-establishing their relationship, certainly not with his parents. They might be hard-working people, but possessed upper middle-class aspirations and were so greedy for money themselves that they’d always deliberately kept him short of cash. If he’d now latched on to ways of improving his own future without overtaxing himself, that was his business, not theirs.
As ever, his father chimed in with the same old question. ‘Have you found yourself employment yet, son?’
‘I’ve a few irons in the fire, so I should soon be in a better financial situation.’ Not for a moment must Victor get wind of his black-marketeering schemes. Life was tough. The shortage of essential items not at all what he’d expected to find on his return. He surely had a right to a better life, not least a home of his own, a wife to care for him and a car? Neither the army nor the state had offered him much in the way of funds, so if the only way to achieve success was by taking part in these cunning little schemes with Eddie, why the hell not?
‘When you do succeed in acquiring a job, let us know. We might then agree to you and your future wife moving in with us, although only for a short time until you find your own accommodation. But, as you will be required to pay us a proper rent, you’ll need a job first. Is that clear?’
‘Crystal,’ Alex grunted, feeling almost as if he were a schoolboy again, coming home from his public school to be lectured for failing to achieve a high enough grade in his exams, or for not being top dog in the football or cricket team, debating society, or anything for that matter.
‘With your background you should be head boy,’ the imperious Victor would sneer. ‘I certainly was.’ Nothing he did seemed to please his father, who constantly accused him of being lazy and idle.
Thelma, their beloved and favourite daughter, could do no wrong in his eyes, being beautiful, married to a rich businessman, and with three children. Whereas he, as their only son, was subject to impossibly high expectations and constant criticism.
Even on the day he’d arrived home, Alex had found the house empty, with no welcome mat in place. Being a Sunday, his parents had gone off to church and then out to lunch at the Midland Hotel, ignoring the fact that their son was due home. They claimed he hadn’t properly informed them of the time of his train, which may or may not be the case. Alex believed he had written to them, but couldn’t be certain, as he’d long since given up worrying about pleasing his disapproving parents. Nevertheless, he should have accepted Cathie’s invitation after all.
‘You need to put more effort into your life, or you’ll never achieve anything,’ his father was now saying, his expression emitting a frown of disapproval.
He didn’t seem to appreciate that Alex had nowhere to go, no home of his own, nothing to do, and little money coming in. Or that he was weary of being given orders and bossed around the entire time, as he had been all his damned life by this man, even before the army took over that role. Why should he buckle down and work his socks off for scarcely any pay? Surely he deserved more of a reward, having spent six years fighting a war, or at least being involved in one. He’d worked long and hard in a hot and scruffy mess tent in the desert, if not actually fighting and killing people. And he came home with barely a penny in his pocket. Yet the pompous Victor was not prepared to help in any way.
‘Listen to what your father is saying,’ his mother warned. ‘In addition, do not for a moment consider adopting that child. Illegitimacy has become dreadfully commonplace throughout the war. I’ve heard of girls as young as fifteen finding themselves pregnant by soldiers, just because they see them as “our brave heroes”.’
‘Is that what you are?’ his father caustically enquired. ‘I somehow doubt it.’
Maybe it would be easier to stay with Rona, who, despite her obsession with herself, was far more sympathetic than his own parents.
Cathie was helping Steve organise a talent contest, his latest charity project. Feeling much more lively and happy, quite back to her old self as she lined up an excited group of children waiting to perform, she couldn’t wait another minute to give him her good news. ‘We’re back together again,’ she breathlessly announced.
Steve stared at her, stunned. ‘What? How did that happen?’
Interrupted by a small boy leading his dog on stage, no more was said until the animal had performed a multitude of tricks and Cathie had helped catch it after the dog gave chase to another in the audience. This took some time and caused a great deal of laughter. Finally, directing the next entrants, two young girls on stage to sing, she then stepped back into the wings to take a rest and catch her breath.
‘Mam invited Alex for tea, claiming to have actually done some cooking for once in her life. He was filled with apologies, and had clearly come round to a complete change of heart. So amazing.’
Steve could think of nothing to say, giving his attention to lining up a school choir, and indicating when the pianist should begin. ‘Did you accept his offer?’ he asked, as he returned to her side some moments later.
‘Of course I did,’ Cathie said with a laugh. ‘I love him to bits.’
Steve ground his teeth, striving not to say how he’d like to see the fellow smashed into bits for being such a traitor to her. Taking a breath, his mind buzzing, he tentatively attempted to challenge her decision. ‘Was that wise, after his rejection of your niece? Shouldn’t you exercise a little more caution before agreeing to marry the chap?’
Cathie stared at him in bewilderment, her next comments interrupted this time by a surge of applause from the audience.
‘I’ve just explained that he apologised,’ she hissed, as she held back the curtain to allow the choir to make their exit.
‘You shouldn’t be too trusting.’
Three young men doing a juggling act were next in line and she quickly bustled them on stage, aware of Steve sc
owling disapprovingly behind her. ‘Alex too has found it difficult to settle into Civvy Street,’ she snapped. ‘He became frustrated over the length of time it took for him even to be demobbed, just because he wasn’t involved in any of the industries the government are currently supporting. Something to do with bolstering the economy, regardless of how long a man has been serving in the army. It’s a policy that naturally creates resentment, so you have to sympathise with him over that. He also hates the fact that he cannot guarantee us a home of our own. He has, however, assured me of his love, so why would I not accept his proposal? Isn’t everyone struggling to overcome these sort of problems?’
‘That’s certainly true,’ Steve said, all too aware of how he blocked out his own emotional traumas. Maybe too much so at times. He started to tell the story of what he’d seen at the Pack Horse, but laughter and loud clapping from the audience in response to a young comedian cracking jokes, drowned what he was trying to say. Cathie shook her head, indicating she couldn’t hear a word. There was little more opportunity to talk as the judging began, tears of those rejected had to be wiped, while those still in the competition were called in to repeat their performance.
At the end of the show Steve happily announced the winners and the substantial sum of money they’d raised for the local orphanage. But it was not until the audience had filed out to hurry off home and the pair of them were tidying up, that he quietly remarked, ‘I do understand what you’re saying, Cathie. People don’t always react quite as you expect to problems caused by war. I remember seeing old friends cross the street rather than speak to me, perhaps not quite knowing what to say, or anxious to avoid any further sad news.’
Cathie was shocked. ‘How very unfeeling of them.’
Steve gave a sigh of resignation. ‘It’s an attitude you have to learn to live with. You certainly soon discover who your real friends are, as you have proved to be.’
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