MB01 - Stay In Your Own Back Yard

by Joan Jonker

  Bridie looked from husband to daughter, her eyes suspicious. ‘Sure, yer’d not be pulling me leg, would you, now?’

  ‘’Course I am, yer daft ha’porth. Yer’d fall for the cat, you would, Ma.’ Molly stood up, wrapping her edge-to-edge coat more closely around her body. ‘I’d better get back before the kids ’ave Jack tearing ’is hair out.’ She blew her mother a kiss. ‘See yer tomorrow, Ma. Goodnight and God bless.’

  ‘Goodnight and God bless, lass.’

  Molly turned at the door, a wicked glint of mischief in her eyes. ‘By the way, Ma, yer haven’t got a tanner to lend us to get a pane of glass for next door’s window, ’ave yer?’ Without waiting for an answer, she swayed down the hall laughing her head off.

  By this time, Bob didn’t know what to believe. Opening the door for Molly, he whispered, ‘Were you winding us up, or did next door’s window get broken?’

  ‘Oh, yeah, it got broken all right. But it was Ginger not our Tommy what did it. Don’t tell me ma, though, she worries too much.’

  As she turned the corner, Molly could see by the light from the street lamp Jill standing by the front door talking to Steve McDonough. ‘Oh, aye, what’s goin’ on here?’ Molly smiled at Steve. He was a nice lad and she was very fond of him. ‘For a few minutes I thought yez were a courtin’ couple.’

  Jill’s head went down, but not before Molly had seen the blush that crept up from her neck to cover her face. Oh dear, she thought, I’ve put me big foot in it again. ‘Was yer mate in, Jill?’

  ‘I’ll tell you later.’ Her head still down, Jill pushed the front door open. ‘Ta-ra, Steve.’

  ‘What’s up with her? Somethin’ must have rubbed ’er up the wrong way.’ Molly pulled a face. ‘Anyway, how’s life treatin’ yer, Steve? Job goin’ all right, is it?’

  ‘The job’s all right, but the money’s lousy. Me dad said I’ll be glad in the end, ’cos I’ll get a good job, being skilled, like. But that’s donkey’s years off yet.’

  Molly looked up at him. Only fifteen and he must be nearly six foot. He was certainly a fine-looking lad: nice thick dark hair, warm brown eyes and deep dimples in his cheeks. And as nice inside as he was out.

  ‘Time passes quick enough, Steve, so don’t be wishin’ yer life away.’ The corners of her mouth turned upwards into a smile. ‘Did yer hear what happened tonight, with His Nibs next door?’

  ‘Yeah, me mam told me.’ Steve stretched to his full height. ‘I wish I’d been here, I’d ’ave sorted him out quick enough. I’d ’ave knocked him into the middle of next week.’

  ‘Yer know, son, I believe yer would ’ave.’ Molly squeezed his arm. ‘I’d better get in or my feller will be thinkin’ I’ve run off with the coalman. I’ll see yer, Steve. Look after yerself.’

  ‘You too, Mrs Bennett. Ta-ra.’

  Chapter Four

  Jill came home from night school looking the picture of dejection. ‘It was awful, Mam! I don’t think I’ll ever learn. It’s all squiggles and curves, and I’ll never get the hang of it.’

  Molly, sitting across the table from her daughter, patted her hand. ‘Come on, cheer up! It’s not like you to give in so easily. Yer can’t expect too much in just one night. Everyone must feel the same when they first start.’

  ‘But I was the only raw beginner there! For some of them it was their second term, and others had been studying from books. I was the only one who didn’t ’ave a clue an’ I felt stupid.’

  ‘Eh, eh, now, none of that! Yer not stupid an’ yer know it. If it’s books yer need, then books yer’ll get. An’ in a couple of weeks yer’ll be knockin’ spots off all of them, wonderin’ what yer were ever worried about.’

  ‘Mam’s right, love,’ said Jack. ‘Nothin’ comes easy for any of us, we all have to learn.’

  ‘I wouldn’t mind if I could do some homework, like the others do, but I’ve nothing to learn from! When I go back on Wednesday I’ll be as wise as I am now.’

  ‘Tell me what book yer need an’ I’ll get it.’ Molly had never seen her daughter so despondent and her heart went out to her. ‘D’yer know what it’s called?’

  Jill nodded. ‘I asked the girl sittin’ next to me, and she said she bought hers from a second-hand shop in Walton Road. It only cost her threepence.’

  Molly nodded. ‘I’ve seen the shop when I’ve been passin’ on the tram. Write down exactly what it is yer want, an’ I’ll get it for yer.’ She peered into Jill’s face. ‘Now, can me an’ yer dad ’ave a smile, please? We’re not used to seein’ yer with a miserable gob on yer, an’ yer don’t suit it.’

  The shop in Walton Road didn’t have the book Jill wanted, so Molly had to pay one and twopence for a new one. But it turned out to be well worth the money. Jill spent every spare minute with her head buried in the book and a notepad by her side to practise on. Over the next few weeks the squiggles and curves began to make sense, and she never came home from night school without a smile of satisfaction on her pretty face.

  ‘There yer go, Mrs Birchall.’ Jill placed two paper bags on the glass-topped counter and held out her hand. ‘That’ll be sixpence ha’penny, please.’

  ‘In the name of God, yer can’t see what yer gettin’ for yer money these days.’ The old lady rummaged in a well-worn purse and took out a shilling. ‘I’ll have to stop eating, there’s nowt else for it.’

  ‘Well, now.’ The smile on Jill’s pretty face widened. ‘You’ll have to resist the temptation of iced buns in future.’

  ‘Aye.’ Mrs Birchall was carefully putting the bags in her shopping basket. ‘They’re the only little luxury I get in life, an’ that’s only every Preston Guild. Next time I ’ave me needle and thread out, I’ll sew me flippin’ mouth up an’ stop eatin’ altogether.’

  ‘How’s your husband these days?’ Jill had been working at the shop for just over a year now, and knew all the customers by name, and their families. And when the shop was slack, as it was now, she’d spend a little time talking to them. She was very popular, always had a smile on her face and a kind word for everyone. ‘Is he still working at Bibby’s?’

  ‘Yeah. I don’t know what ’e earns ’cos ’e never lets me see ’is wage packet, but accordin’ to him, ’e gets paid in buttons.’ The lined face smiled back at Jill. ‘When yer get married, love, start off as yer mean to go on. Make sure yer ’usband hands ’is money over.’

  ‘Oh, that won’t be for a long time yet. I’m only fifteen – too young to be thinking about things like that.’

  ‘Aye, well, take yer time about it. Don’t be a bloody fool like me. Married at seventeen I was, an’ I’ve regretted it ever since. Sweet as honey ’e was, my Bill, when we were courtin’. Swept me off me feet with all ’is sweet talk.’ Her basket cradled in the crook of her arm, Mrs Birchall gripped the brim of her faded blue hat with both hands and pulled it down over her ears.

  ‘As soon as I ’ad the ring on me finger, ’e changed just like that.’ She snapped a finger for emphasis, then shook her head. ‘On the Saturday I was ’is lovely blushing bride, but by the Monday I was a maid of all work, with a mob-cap on me ’ead, a pinny on, an’ a mop an’ bucket in me hand. And it’s been the same ever since.’ She wagged a thin finger at Jill. ‘Yer know the old sayin’: Marry in haste, repent at leisure? Well, there’s never been a truer one. I’ve been regrettin’ it for over forty years now.’

  Jill smiled. ‘I’ll remember that, Mrs Birchall.’ She watched the old lady pass the window, then turned to Mr John who had been listening with amusement. ‘Poor woman. It’s a shame, isn’t it?’

  ‘Don’t let her put you off, Jill, she just happened to marry a waster. Not all men are like Bill Birchall.’

  ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘I know by me dad and me granda.’

  Mr John began to put the leftover loaves on to a wooden tray. ‘It’s been a busy day, there’s not much of anything left.’ He lowered his head as he turned to carry the tray through to the back. ‘Don’t look now, but your young man has been hanging aroun
d outside for the last ten minutes.’

  ‘He’s not my young man, Mr John,’ Jill said hotly, colour flooding her face. ‘He’s just a neighbour, lives a few doors from us. I’ve known him all my life.’

  ‘Whatever he is, he’s getting impatient. You just empty the glass cases and get on your way. Mavis and Doris will help me clean up.’

  ‘No, I’ll do the cases, like I always do, and clean the glass. Then I’ll mop the floor. Whatever Steve wants, he’ll have to wait.’

  ‘It’s Saturday night, Jill, and young people should be out enjoying themselves. Just do as I say and empty the cases. When you’ve done that I’ll have a few things ready for you to take home.’ He walked through to the bakery at the back, shouting over his shoulder, ‘You’d better get a move on, your neighbour seems to be getting impatient.’

  Steve grinned self-consciously, his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes looking somewhere over Jill’s shoulder. ‘I was passing, so I’d thought I’d wait an’ go home with yer.’

  ‘You just happened to be passing last Saturday, too!’ Jill walked quickly ahead, leaving Steve to chase after her. ‘Mr John saw you, and he made me leave before the cleaning up was done. I felt terrible leaving Doris mopping the floor when it’s supposed to be my job.’

  Steve stopped automatically when they reached the tram stop, but Jill charged ahead. ‘I’m walking home.’

  ‘But it’s five stops!’ He grabbed her arm. ‘I didn’t know Mr John had seen me, I didn’t intend ’im to. So don’t fall out with me over it. And it’s daft to walk all that way just because yer’ve got a cob on with me.’

  Jill began to relent. She didn’t mind Steve meeting her, it was just that she’d felt so embarrassed stepping over the wet floor as Doris was mopping. ‘I haven’t got a cob on with you, but don’t do it again or you’ll get me into trouble. And I’m walking home to save the tram fare.’

  ‘Blimey, it’s only a penny!’ Steve pulled her to a standstill. ‘Anyway, yer don’t think I’d let yer pay yer own fare, do yer? It’s only right an’ proper for a man to pay for a girl.’

  ‘Steve, I want to walk home.’ Jill pulled her arm free and continued walking, with a reluctant Steve beside her. ‘I know it’s only a penny, but I’ve walked home every day this week, so that’s sixpence I’ve saved.’

  Steve glanced sideways at the girl he thought the prettiest he’d ever seen. She wasn’t loud like other girls her age, she was real ladylike, always had been. He’d felt protective towards her since they were little and played in the street together. No one had ever dared shout at Jill, or bully her, when he was around. Many’s the scrap he’d got into over one of the lads pulling her plaits and making her cry. ‘What yer savin’ up for, Jill?’

  ‘A typewriter.’ She turned to look at him now, her eyes glowing with excitement. ‘I can get a second-hand one for about five shillings, so I’m saving every penny I can. It’ll take me till after Christmas to save up enough, but I’m determined to get one. Then I’ll be able to practise at home instead of the few minutes I get every week at night school. I’ll never get my speed up the way I’m going on.’

  They covered the ground quickly, too quickly for Steve who couldn’t bring himself to say the words he’d been rehearsing all day. It had been easy talking to himself in the mirror in his bedroom, but he was now finding the deed a lot harder than the practice. But when they turned the corner into their street he knew it was now or never. ‘D’yer feel like comin’ to the pictures with me? Tarzan’s on at the Walton Vale.’

  Jill’s heartbeat quickened. She’d never been out on her own with a boy before and she felt a thrill of pleasure. It was the first time she’d been asked out, and she was glad it was Steve because she felt comfortable with him. And she wasn’t blind to the fact that his attitude towards her had changed over the last few months – there was a difference in the way he looked at her now. ‘I don’t think me mam would let me go.’ Jill kept on walking but her steps slowed. ‘She’ll say I’m too young to be going out with a boy on me own.’

  ‘Nah! Yer mam won’t mind yer comin’ out with me!’ Steve’s heart felt lighter. ‘It’s only to the pictures.’

  ‘I don’t like asking ’er,’ Jill said. ‘She’ll bite me head off.’

  ‘I’ll ask ’er, if that’s all yer worryin’ about. I don’t think she’ll mind ’cos she’s knows I’ll look after yer.’

  Jill came to an abrupt halt, her face flushed with embarrassment. ‘She’s standing at the door talkin’ to your mam. Don’t ask now for heaven’s sake, not in front of your mother.’ Without another word she dashed ahead, flashing a brief smile at Molly and Nellie before darting into the house.

  ‘What the ’ell’s up with her?’ Molly asked as Steve joined them. ‘Someone put ’er nose out of joint?’

  ‘I asked ’er if she’d like to come to the pictures with me.’ In for a penny, in for a pound, thought Steve. All it needed was a bit more courage. The worst part had been asking Jill, and now he’d got that over he may as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb. He looked up at Molly, who was standing on the top step, the dimples in his cheeks deepening when he grinned. ‘She said you wouldn’t let ’er, ’cos she’s too young.’

  ‘Is that all?’ Molly laughed. ‘Silly faggot, gettin’ herself all het up over that. I don’t mind ’er goin’ to the pictures with yer. If it was someone I didn’t know then I might think twice, but not with you.’

  Nellie’s rumbling laugh rang out. ‘He’s got his eye on your Jill, Molly, so watch ’im.’

  ‘Aw, cut it out, Mam, will yer!’ Steve shot his mother a dirty look. After going through all this, surely she wasn’t going to put a spoke in his wheel?

  ‘Go ’ome, Nellie, an’ leave the lad alone, yer only embarrassin’ ’im.’ Molly stepped back into the hallway. ‘Come in, Steve, an’ we’ll see what Jill’s got to say.’

  Steve held Jill’s elbow as she boarded the tram and his heart nearly burst with pride when he saw the conductor looking at her with an appreciative eye. She was certainly a girl to be proud of, with her slim figure, blonde hair falling around her shoulders and a face like an angel. The only blot on his horizon was the amount of money in his pocket. He sat silent as the tram trundled on its way, trying to work out what he could afford. The tram fare was twopence each return, so if he took her in the fourpenny seats, he’d just about have enough left for a small slab of chocolate. It meant he’d be stony broke all week, but it would be worth it.

  In the darkness of the cinema Steve tried to steer Jill to the back row, but she was following the beam from the usherette’s torch and they ended up in two seats near the front. Jill sat up stiffly in her seat, her eyes glued to the screen. But when Buster Keaton came on, she lost her reserve and roared with laughter. Steve laughed too, but it wasn’t Buster who made him laugh, it was the happiness he felt at having Jill by his side.

  By the time Tarzan came on, Jill was relaxed and talkative. ‘Isn’t Maureen O’Sullivan lovely? Ah, look at Cheetah, isn’t he clever?’ But when Johnny Weissmuller was fighting a crocodile she screwed her eyes up tight. ‘Ooh, I can’t look!’ The best moment for Steve was when a tiger leapt from a tree on to Tarzan’s back. Jill screamed and turned her head from the screen, grabbing Steve’s arm. ‘Tell me when it’s over.’

  Feeling all grown up and ten foot tall, Steve took her hand in his. ‘Don’t be daft, it’s only a picture.’

  Jill was all starry-eyed when they came out of the picture house. Tarzan had triumphed once again, killing everything that crossed his path, and Jill was filled with admiration for his bravery. As they made their way to the tram stop she couldn’t stop talking about the film and Steve began to get jealous. There were no lions or tigers lurking in the doorways of the shops on Walton Vale, so he couldn’t prove he was just as brave as the great Johnny Weissmuller. But there was one thing Tarzan did that he could do. He pulled Jill round to face him, and prodded a finger in his chest. ‘Me Tarzan. You Jane.’

  J
ill doubled up in a fit of the giggles, and the laughter lasted all the way home, two young people happy in each other’s company. But when they stood outside the Bennetts’ house, shyness took over. Jill hugged her handbag to her chest, gazing at her feet. ‘Thanks, Steve. I really enjoyed meself.’

  ‘Will yer come out with me again next Saturday?’ he asked, wondering if it was right to kiss a girl on their first date. He wanted to, but decided he’d better not. It might frighten her off.

  ‘I’d like to, if yer can afford it.’ Jill looked into his eyes. ‘I know you don’t earn much, so I could pay for meself.’

  ‘Yer will not! I’m askin’ yer to come, so I’ll pay.’

  ‘Okay.’ Jill smiled. ‘I’ll probably see you before, but if not I’ll be ready at half-seven next Saturday.’

  Steve waited until the door closed on Jill, then he jumped up, his feet clicking together like Charlie Chaplin. His fist punched the air as he skipped the few yards to his own doorway. He knew a lot of the lads in the neighbourhood fancied Jill, he’d heard them talking. But they never got near her because she wasn’t the type to hang around street corners with the rest of the youngsters who were too young to be treated like adults, and too old for games like hopscotch or kick the can.

  Steve slipped the key in the lock. Jill Bennett was his girl now, and woe betide anyone who thought otherwise.

  Jill could feel her face redden when she walked through the door and saw the smile on her mother’s face. ‘I thought you’d be in bed.’

  ‘What! Go to bed when I’m dyin’ of curiosity, wantin’ to know how me daughter got on on her first date! Not likely!’ Molly pressed her back against the couch. ‘Come on, sit down an’ tell us all about it. Did yer ’ave a nice time?’

  Tossing her head, Jill tried to make her words sound casual. ‘It was fine, I really enjoyed the picture.’

  Jack was sending warning glances at Molly but she pretended not to see them. What was the good of having a daughter if you weren’t going to share the big moments in her life? She moved to sit on a chair by the table, and rested her chin on her cupped hands. ‘Tell me all about it. What seats did yer sit in, and what was the picture about? Did Steve ’old yer hand? An’ did ’e give yer a goodnight kiss?’