by Joan Jonker
The door burst open and Jack staggered in carrying a heavy typewriter. ‘This thing weighs a ton.’ He plonked it on the table, panting for breath. ‘Can I ’ave a cup of tea now?’
‘Oh, for cryin’ out loud, will yer stop yer moanin’ an’ get back for the rest of the stuff? The kids will be down before I’ve got everythin’ ready.’
‘Slave driver,’ Jack muttered. He tilted his head to one side. ‘The tree looks nice, love.’
‘I ’ad to leave it till the last minute to put the chocolate things on, ’cos our Ruthie an’ Tommy would have pinched them.’ Molly stood back to admire her handiwork, then turned and jerked her head at Jack. ‘Move yerself, love, please! I’ll make the tea while yer out.’
‘It’s like a madhouse down there,’ he said, coming through the door for a second time and dropping an armful of parcels on the couch. ‘Yer can’t hear yerself talk for the noise.’
Molly got busy sorting the presents out. On one chair she carefully placed Doreen’s new skirt and blouse, plus her first pair of long stockings. On the next chair went Tommy’s new short grey trousers, a shirt and a book on trains.
‘Shove up a bit an’ make room for the new addition to the family.’ Molly laid Ruthie’s doll on the couch, tracing a finger over its rosebud mouth and long blonde curls. ‘She’ll be over the moon with this.’ Covering the doll with the blanket embroidered by Bridie, Molly gave a deep chuckle. ‘She’s a proper little bossy boots, our Ruthie, so God help the poor doll.’
‘It’s a wonder the kids aren’t awake by now.’ Molly opened the door of the cupboard set in a recess of the wall by the fireplace and took out a pillowslip. ‘I’m coverin’ the typewriter with this so I can see our Jill’s face when I take it off.’
‘Come an’ drink your tea before it gets cold.’ Jack was standing with his hand behind his back, and when Molly went to pass he grabbed her arm and lifted a spray of mistletoe over her head. ‘How about me Christmas kiss, Mrs Bennett?’
Molly walked into his arms and he held her close. ‘Mmm, yer lovely and warm. Let’s go back to bed.’
She slapped his hand playfully. ‘Behave yerself, Jack Bennett, an’ give the kids a shout.’
Jack stood at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Wakey, wakey!’
Tommy must have been standing on the landing, ready and waiting, for no sooner were the words out of Jack’s mouth than he was being pushed aside by his son. Afterwards, Jack swore that Tommy had come from the top of the stairs to the bottom without his feet once touching the ground.
‘Hey, hold yer ’orses.’ Molly grabbed hold of Tommy’s arm. ‘Wait till yer sisters come down an’ yer can all open yer presents together.’
‘Ah, ray, Mam!’ he wailed. ‘They won’t be down for ages!’
But the three girls had been lying in bed waiting, and within minutes they were downstairs and the house became alive with shrieks of delight and laughter.
For the next hour the noise was deafening. Paper, orange peel and nut shells littered the floor, but Molly was so happy to see the pleasure on her children’s faces, she didn’t see the mess around her. All her scrimping and saving had been worth it for this moment. She hadn’t paid the rent this week, and she owed the corner shop a few pounds, but she’d make it up over the next few weeks. Right now, she thought, I might be skint, but I’m happy.
Jill had ripped a page from her homework book and was practising on the typewriter, Tommy was blowing into the mouth-organ and turning the pages of his new book at the same time, while Doreen stood on tip-toe, humming to herself as she peered into the mirror, her mouth puckered as she made her first attempt at drawing a Cupid’s bow on her top lip with the Tangee lipstick.
Ruthie, her eyes wide with excitement, was sitting on Jack’s knee, her new doll cradled in her arms. ‘What shall we call her, Dad?’
‘Well, now, let me see.’ Jack held his head in his hands. ‘How about Shirley, after Shirley Temple?’
A wide smile creased the little girl’s face. ‘Mam, did yer hear that? Me dolly’s name is Shirley!’ She shook her mother’s arm. ‘She’s got curly hair like Shirley Temple, too!’
Molly smiled. ‘Yer mustn’t forget to thank yer grandma for knittin’ those lovely clothes for her.’ She lifted the doll’s pink dress. ‘Look, she’s even got knickers on.’
‘Oh, I will, Mam,’ Ruthie said, her small face serious. ‘I’ll give Grandma and Granda a big hug an’ kiss.’
Molly put her hands over her ears to muffle the sound of the mouth-organ. There was no tune, just a loud noise. But then Tommy had always been tone deaf, same as he had two left feet. ‘I’ll kill me ma for givin’ ’im that.’ Molly rolled her eyes. ‘Remember when she bought ’im a drum? We all ’ad splittin’ headaches for weeks.’
‘These are me favourite present.’ Doreen lifted the long rayon stockings from the chair, handling them as though they were made of gold dust. ‘I’m not puttin’ them on yet, in case I ladder them.’
‘Now the kids are sorted out, would you like your present, love?’ Jack asked.
‘Oh, yes, please.’
Jack sat Ruthie down and went out to the hallstand. He came back with his hands hidden behind him. ‘Which hand d’yer want?’
‘Stop actin’ the goat, Jack Bennett, an’ give it here.’
As Jack handed the box over, Molly gave him a parcel. ‘Open yours first.’
Jack was delighted with the thick navy blue jersey. ‘Just the thing to keep the life in me old bones.’ And the gloves Molly handed him from Bridie and Bob were equally welcome. ‘I’ve done very well for meself, haven’t I?’ Jack laid his presents aside and pointed to the box on Molly’s knee. ‘Are yer goin’ to open it?’
Molly’s shoulders were moving up and down in anticipation as she lifted the lid from the box. Her gasp of pleasure brought the children to crowd around, and all eyes rested on the brooch nestling on a bed of cotton wool. It was square shaped, made up of clear glass stones that changed colour as Molly moved her hand. ‘It’s beautiful, Jack.’ She was overcome with emotion. She knew it wasn’t an expensive brooch ’cos Jack didn’t have much money to himself, but she’d never had anything so pretty bought for her before. ‘Look at the colours when I move me hand.’
Jack sighed with relief. He didn’t know what women liked, but the girl in the shop had assured him his wife would like it, and from the look on Molly’s face, she was right. ‘I’m glad yer like it, love.’
‘Like it! I love it! I’ll wear it tonight on me navy dress an’ look like a million dollars.’
Molly glanced up to see the children nudging each other. ‘What are you lot up to?’
‘Nothing, Mam,’ said Doreen. ‘We’re waiting to see what me gran bought yer.’
Molly knew what her present was, she could feel by the shape, but not for the world would she let them see. And her look of surprise when she held the slippers aloft would have fooled anyone. ‘Lovely warm fleecy slippers, with a red pom-pom on. Just the job for keepin’ me feet warm when I’m sittin’ on me throne down the yard.’
‘Dad, can I get behind that cushion, please?’ Jill waited for Jack to lean forward, then slipped a hand down the back of him. ‘These are from the four of us.’
Molly’s mouth gaped as she held her hand out for the bag. She hadn’t expected this. It must be Jill’s doing, ’cos the others didn’t have any money. How like her to say it was from all of them. ‘Oh, my God, Jack, will yer look at this!’ Molly draped the pale blue voile scarf across her palms. ‘Isn’t it gorgeous!’
‘You can wear it round your neck tonight.’ Jill had been reluctant to spend the money she’d been saving to buy a typewriter, but she couldn’t let Christmas pass without buying her parents a present. And she’d wanted some new clothes for herself, to wear when she went out with Steve. She was glad she had, now, ’cos her mother’s face was a joy to behold. And, Jill stole a glance at the Olivetti typewriter, she’d got what she wanted as well. ‘It’ll look nice with yer navy dress.�
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‘Yeah, it’s the gear, Mam.’ Tommy was enjoying this. He was glad their Jill had said it was from the four of them. He’d pay her back when he started work. It wouldn’t be that long now, only eighteen months.
‘Hey, hold on a minute.’ Jack was holding up a maroon tie, his face glowing with pleasure. ‘Yer mam won’t be the only swank at the party tonight. When I get all dolled up, she won’t be in the meg specks.’
The children preened themselves with pride. For the first time in their young lives, they’d found that there was more pleasure in giving than there was in receiving.
‘Yer know, Jack, God’s been good to us.’ Molly was peeling potatoes by the sink, while Jack was topping and tailing the carrots. ‘We’ve got each other, four lovely healthy children, an’ me ma an’ da.’ She threw a peeled potato into a pan of water. ‘We’re very lucky.’
Jack rested his hand on the colander. He’d been an only child, and when his parents had died just after he got married, he was left without kith or kin. But he had adopted Molly’s parents as his own, and loved them dearly. ‘We’ve got a damn’ sight more than that to be thankful for, love. We’ve got coal for the fire, enough food for our bellies, and a house full of love and warmth.’ He went back to his carrots. ‘Aye, love, as yer said, God’s been good to us.’
Molly gripped the edge of the heavy wooden table. ‘Ready, Jack? Then heave!’
They carried the table to the space they’d made for it under the window. ‘That’s better.’ Molly stood with her palms flat on the table, her chest heaving. ‘At least we’d be able to swing a cat around now. That’s if we ’ad a cat, like.’
‘Where yer goin’ to sit them all, love?’ Jack scratched his head. ‘We ’aven’t got enough chairs.’
‘With the ones out of the bedrooms we will.’ Molly wiped her hand across her forehead. ‘I’m sweatin’ cobs.’
‘Yer should ’ave let our Tommy help me, I told yer it was too heavy for you.’
‘He’s got ’is nose stuck in that flamin’ book and nothin’ will shift ’im, bar an earthquake.’
Jill leaned on the brush she’d been sweeping the lino with. ‘Shall I fetch the chair down out of our room, Mam?’
‘Yeah, there’s a good girl.’ Molly looked at her daughter and wondered how she’d managed to produce such a beautiful girl. Jill looked lovely, in a blue skirt and white broderie anglaise blouse. With her clear blue eyes, fanned by long black lashes, and her hair brushed till it shone like burnished gold, she looked as pretty as a picture. ‘Oh, I forgot to tell yer, I’ve asked Nellie and George down tonight, an’ told them Steve can come if ’e wants.’
Jill fled without answering, feeling embarrassed but very pleased at the news.
‘I’m a bit worried, love.’ Jack’s forehead was puckered in a frown. ‘We’ve only got a bottle of port in, an’ that won’t go very far.’
‘Stop yer worryin’, for ’eaven’s sake. Me da’s bringin’ a bottle of sherry an’ Maisie’s bringin’ somethin’. Anyway, who needs drink to ’ave a good time? I don’t!’
When the first knock came, Tommy flew to open the door. ‘Granda, wait till yer see what I’ve got!’ He was waving his precious book under Bob’s nose as his granda stood on the step scraping the snow off his shoes. ‘It’s full of pictures of trains from all over the world.’
‘Is it now?’ Bob raised his eyes in mock surprise. Not for the world would he say he’d been the one who’d told Molly the name of the book and where she could buy it.
‘For cryin’ out loud, will yer let them take their coats off and get a warm! And put that ruddy book away.’ Molly rolled her eyes to the ceiling. ‘God give me strength.’
‘Why not bring it round to our house tomorrow?’ Bridie asked, seeing the look of disappointment on Tommy’s face. ‘Sure, you an’ yer grandad can while away the whole day just looking at the wonder of it.’
‘Ay, Jack Bennett, just take a gander at yer daughter.’ Molly folded her arms, a look of pride on her face as she sized Doreen up and down. ‘Quite the little lady, all dressed up an’ nowhere to go.’
Wearing her new skirt and blouse and long stockings, Doreen stood inside the door looking sheepish. ‘Do I look all right?’
‘You look fine, love,’ Jack said. ‘Yer mam was right, a proper little lady yer look.’
‘Are me seams straight?’ Doreen turned for their inspection. ‘It’s not half ’ard trying to get them in a straight line.’
‘’Tis grand yer look, Doreen,’ Bridie said. ‘Real pretty.’
A knock on the door announced the arrival of Maisie and Alec, followed within minutes by Nellie, George and Steve.
‘Take all the coats upstairs an’ lay them on the bed, there’s a good girl. An’ tell Jill to come down. She’s been on that flippin’ typewriter all day.’
‘Is she pleased with it, then?’ Bridie asked.
‘I’ll say she is!’ Molly laughed. ‘I ’ad to drag ’er downstairs for her dinner, she was busy typing away, as happy as a pig in you know what.’
Ruthie settled herself on her granda’s knee, her dolly resting in her arms. She’d never been allowed to stay up so late, and heeding her mother’s warning to behave herself, stayed as quiet as a mouse.
Jack poured out drinks while Molly and her daughters handed round plates of sandwiches and mince pies. There was lots of talking and laughter, and Molly felt on top of the world. What more could you ask out of life than to have all your family and friends around you?
‘I think someone’s ready for beddy-byes,’ Bridie said softly, bending to kiss Ruthie’s brow. ‘She can’t keep ’er eyes open.’
‘Yes, I’ll take her up.’ Jack lifted his daughter gently. ‘It’s been a long day for ’er, she must be dead beat.’
Molly waited till Jack came down to say Ruthie was fast asleep in the land of nod. Then, a glass in one hand and a plate balancing on her lap, she winked at her mother. ‘Give us a song, Ma.’
‘’Tis yerself that should be entertainin’ us,’ Bridie said. ‘You’ll not be wantin’ to hear an old woman like me.’
‘Go on, missus, yer know I’ve got a voice like a fog horn. You start, an’ we’ll all join in.’
Bridie put her hand to her mouth and cleared her throat. Then she began to sing ‘Danny Boy’ in such a clear, sweet voice, she held her audience spellbound. The silence was so deep, you could have heard a pin drop. And the only movement was from Molly as she wiped away a tear.
There was much clapping when the song ended, and shouts of ‘Encore’, but Bridie shook her head. ‘Later, perhaps. Sure yer want a song to liven yourselves up, not one to be bringin’ the tears to yer eyes.’
No one was prepared to follow a voice like Bridie’s, not until they’d had a few more drinks down them anyway, so Alec began to make them laugh with tales of the tricks his customers got up to. Like the woman who brought some corned beef back, complaining it was underweight. Alec had weighed it and, sure enough, it was only three ounces instead of four. But Maisie, who had served the woman’s son with the meat, insisted it had been the right weight when it left the shop. After much shouting and swearing, the woman stormed out to return minutes later, pulling her son along by his ears. ‘Tell Mr Porter what yer did, yer thievin’ little bugger!’ The boy was scared stiff. How was he to know his mam would miss the slice he’d eaten on the way home?
There weren’t enough chairs to go round, so Jill was sitting on the second stair while Steve lounged against the door. ‘I believe yer got a typewriter?’
She nodded. ‘It’s second hand, but it’s in good nick. I’ve been practising all day, an’ now I’m used to it I can’t half go fast.’ She smiled up at Steve. ‘What did you get?’
‘The usual, shirt, socks and hankies.’ Steve was glad it was dark in the hall and she couldn’t see his face. ‘I’ve got you a little present.’
Taking a deep breath, he gave her a quick peck on the cheek before handing her a small bag, saying gruffly, ‘It’s n
ot much.’
Jill stared at the bag. ‘You shouldn’t have bought me anything! I feel awful now, ’cos I haven’t got a present for you.’
‘Don’t be daft.’ Steve moved from the door to lean against the wall. ‘I wanted to buy yer something.’
Jill put her hand in the bag and brought out a bottle of perfume. ‘Thank you, Steve.’
‘It’s Californian Poppy, d’yer like it?’
‘I’ve never had a bottle of scent before, but I’ve heard the girls in work say this is the best.’ Jill unscrewed the black top and pulled out the little rubber stopper. ‘I’ll put a bit on, behind me ears.’
‘Jill, if I ask yer somethin’, will yer promise not to laugh?’
‘How can I promise when I don’t know what it is? If it’s funny, then I won’t be able to stop meself laughing.’
‘Will you be my girl?’
This time it was Jill who was glad of the darkness. Her face was flaming and her heart thumping like mad. ‘I’m only fifteen, me mam would say I’m too young to be courting.’
‘Yer’ll be sixteen in a few months, an’ I’ll be seventeen. We’re not that young.’ Steve moved from the wall and bent towards her. ‘Are yer only sayin’ that ’cos yer don’t want to be my girl?’
‘No!’ The word came out involuntarily. ‘I do want to be your girl. But don’t let on, or I’ll get me leg pulled.’
Steve felt ten foot tall. If he had his way he’d tell everyone, but if that was the way Jill wanted it, he didn’t really care. As long as he knew she was his girl, that was enough for him.
There was a lull in the conversation as Jack filled their glasses, and through the silence came the sound of shouting from next door. Then came a roar, followed by a crash that sounded like a chair being thrown against the wall.
‘In the name of God!’ Bridie clutched a hand to her heart. ‘What was that?’
‘That, Ma, was our neighbour,’ Molly said, her nostrils white with anger. ‘We often get that, when he’s in one of ’is fightin’ moods. But if ’e starts tonight an’ spoils me party, I’ll go round an’ stiffen ’im.’