MB01 - Stay In Your Own Back Yard

by Joan Jonker

‘Kids can be a ruddy nuisance sometimes,’ Molly said, striking a match under the kettle. ‘But I wouldn’t swap them for all the tea in China.’

  ‘Where’s our Doreen gone, Mam?’ Ruthie’s two hands were curled around her enamel mug. ‘Yer said she wouldn’t be long an’ she’s been gone ages. I want to show ’er me paintings.’

  ‘I don’t know where she’s got to, sunshine. I expected her back ages ago.’ The rat-tat of the front knocker brought Molly to her feet. ‘Speak of the devil and she’s bound to appear. This’ll be her now.’

  She stood aside to let Doreen pass. ‘I’d just about given yer up! Where the ’ell ’ave yer been?’ She followed her daughter down the hall. ‘How did yer get on?’

  Doreen threw her coat over a chair and made for the fire. Fanning her hands out towards the warmth, she grinned. ‘I got the job.’

  ‘Oh, great!’ Molly sat down and rested her elbows on the table. ‘Good on yer, kid, I’m proud of yer.’

  Doreen rubbed her hands together. ‘I had to wait ages for a tram, an’ I’m freezing.’

  ‘The tea in the pot’s still hot, I’ll pour yer a cuppa.’ Molly was smiling like a Cheshire cat. ‘Then yer can tell me all about it.’

  Ruthie was dying to show Doreen her colouring book, but a sixth sense told her this wasn’t the right time. So she spread her arms on the table, rested her chin on her hands and waited to hear what all the excitement was about. Just wait till I see Bella Watson, she was thinking as she studied her sister’s face. She hasn’t got any big sisters who go out to work and give her a penny pocket money every week.

  ‘Get that down yer.’ Molly put the cup of steaming tea in front of Doreen. ‘Then start talkin’.’

  ‘If I pass the medical, I start work on Monday mornin’ at eight o’clock.’ Doreen pulled a face. ‘The wages are lousy, though, only twelve and six a week.’

  ‘That’s not to be sneezed at!’ Molly said, folding her arms. ‘It’s better than a kick up the backside.’

  ‘It’s not as much as our Jill got when she started work.’ Doreen’s eyes narrowed as she put her cup down. ‘If I’ve got to give you ten bob a week, like Jill does, I’ll ’ave nothin’ left after I’ve paid me fares to work.’

  Ooh, old crafty boots, Molly thought. I bet she’s got it all figured out. Still, she had to admit her daughter had a point. ‘I’ll ’ave a word with yer dad, see what he says. I’m sure he’ll say the same as me. We can’t expect yer to cough up as much as Jill.’

  Doreen’s frown cleared. On the way home, she’d been thinking that if she only had to give her mother eight shillings a week, she’d be left with enough to go to the pictures once a week and save up to buy herself some decent, grown-up clothes. Like the dress she’d seen in a shop window the other week. She’d stood for ages with her nose pressed against the glass, imagining herself wearing the pale blue dress with its sweetheart neck, tight waist and ragamuffin sleeves. It was nine and eleven, a lot of money for one dress, but if she saved hard for a few weeks she could buy it.

  Molly sat patiently waiting for her daughter to speak. In the end she leaned forward and tapped her on the arm. ‘Do I ’ave to drag it out of yer?’

  With a picture of the blue dress still in her mind, Doreen smiled. ‘The woman who interviewed me was called Miss Jones. She was very prim an’ proper, dead old-fashioned, but nice. The one who gave me all the details was Miss Howard. She said I’ll be startin’ in the sewin’ room, then when I’ve been there a while and know the job inside out, I’ll be moved to another room.’

  Molly looked surprised. ‘I thought Johnson’s was a dye works?’

  ‘It is, but they do lots more besides. In the sewing room they repair things like curtains, turning the collars on shirts, beddin’ and lots of other things.’ Doreen’s face was animated now. ‘They’ve got a glove room where they dye or repair gloves, a hat room where they clean and re-model hats, and lots of other departments. I can’t remember everything Miss Howard told me, but all the girls are trained to work in any of the departments.’

  ‘Well, I’ll be blowed,’ Molly said. ‘All the times I’ve passed that place an’ I thought it was only a dye works.’

  Doreen shook her head. ‘No, they do all sorts. Eiderdowns, evening dresses . . . you name it, they do it.’

  ‘They’re noted for not payin’ good wages,’ Molly said, ‘but I believe they’re very good to their employees. It looks as though yer’ve landed on yer feet, love. If they teach yer ’ow to use a sewing machine, yer’ll be able to make yer own clothes.’

  ‘I’ve already thought of that,’ Doreen answered, her gaze on the tea leaf floating on the top of her tea. ‘The only thing is, we haven’t got a sewing machine.’

  ‘Now, yer never know yer luck in a big city!’ Molly laughed. ‘Our Jill didn’t ’ave a typewriter, did she? But she ’as now! There’s plenty of second-hand shops around, or even pawn shops! Yer’d be surprised the things people pawn when they’re skint. An’ most of the time the poor buggers can’t afford to redeem their pledges so the shop sells them.’

  ‘Will yer make me a dress, our Doreen?’ Ruthie asked, coaxingly. ‘A blue one with a sticky-out skirt?’

  ‘Ah, ray, give us a chance! I don’t know one end of a sewin’ machine from the other!’

  ‘Yer’ll soon learn.’ Molly nodded her head knowingly. ‘Yer grandma used to be able to use a machine. That’s years ago, of course, but sewin’ is like most things – once yer learn yer never forget.’

  Doreen leaned forward, her long hair falling over her face. ‘I didn’t know that!’

  ‘Yeah, well, it was before your time. She used to ’ave a little hand machine an’ she was a dab hand at makin’ dresses for me.’ Molly smiled at the memories. ‘She never used a pattern, did Ma, but she ’ad a knack for it. Nothin’ ever got thrown away when I was little. Ma could make me a dress or coat out of anythin’. She bought the machine second hand, an’ it was on its last legs then. But she got her money’s worth out of it all right. Her pride an’ joy it was, an’ she broke her heart when it conked out an’ couldn’t be repaired.’

  ‘I’ll go round there tonight an’ tell me nan and granda about me job.’ Doreen pushed her chair back and carried her cup through to the kitchen. ‘Oh, and I’ve made a new friend!’ Her head appeared round the door. ‘Her name’s Maureen Shepherd an’ she starts on Monday as well.’

  Ruthie screwed her eyes up. Was this the right time to ask if Doreen was going to give her a penny a week pocket money, like their Jill did? No, perhaps not, caution told her. I’ll wait till she’s in a good mood. ‘Come and see me colourin’ book, our Doreen. Aren’t I clever?’

  Steve’s heart was in his mouth when he knocked on the Bennetts’ door. He had seen Jill just once since Christmas Day, and then only to exchange a few words in the street, and he’d missed her so much he’d taken his courage in both hands tonight. Please let her open the door, he prayed as he heard footsteps in the hall. If it’s anyone else, what am I going to say?

  ‘Hello, Mrs Bennett.’ Steve blushed to the roots of his hair. ‘I wondered if Jill felt like comin’ to the Carlton?’

  ‘Only one way to find out, son, an’ that’s to ask her.’ Molly held the door wide. ‘Weather put a halt to yer courtin’, has it?’

  Steve hung his head to hide his embarrassment. ‘They reckon it’s good weather for ducks. Trouble is, I’m not a flippin’ duck!’

  ‘Look who’s here.’ Molly entered the room ahead of Steve, a gleam in her eye. ‘Romeo calling for Juliet.’

  Jill’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘Hi, Steve!’

  ‘D’yer feel like comin’ to the Carlton?’ he asked gruffly, conscious of all eyes on him. ‘William Powell an’ Myrna Loy are on in The Thin Man.’

  Why didn’t I answer the door? Jill asked herself. Fancy having to talk in front of the whole family. ‘I’ve got no shoes to wear.’ She pointed to the fireplace. ‘Mine got soaking on the way home and they’re by the fire, drying out for work
tomorrow.’

  Doreen had been standing in front of the mirror combing her hair. Now she crossed the room and stood in front of Steve. ‘I start work on Monday.’

  Steve tore his eyes away from Jill. ‘Oh, smashin’! I’m made up for yer.’

  Doreen preened herself. ‘In the sewing room at Johnson’s.’ She tossed her long hair back. ‘When I’ve learned to sew, I’ll be able to make me own clothes.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure Steve is very interested to hear that!’ Molly said dryly. ‘He can put in an order for a suit.’

  Jack saw a hot retort forming on Doreen’s lips and decided it was time to intervene. ‘Why don’t you stay, Steve, an’ we can have a game of cards? No money, of course, we’ll play for matches.’

  Steve gave him a grateful look. ‘Yeah, I’d like that. Thanks, Mr Bennett.’

  ‘Can we play rummy?’ Doreen asked. ‘It’s the only game I know.’

  ‘You’ve changed yer mind quick,’ Molly said. ‘Five minutes ago yer were goin’ round to yer nan’s.’

  ‘It’s too cold,’ Doreen answered loftily. ‘I’ll call tomorrow on me way home from Johnson’s.’

  Molly’s brow puckered as she rummaged in the sideboard drawer for the pack of cards. If I had a bad mind, I’d say she was staying in ’cos Steve is here, she thought. She glanced at Doreen as she threw the cards on the table. My God, I don’t need to have a bad mind to see she’s giving him the glad eye! Fourteen years of age and flirting! With her sister’s boyfriend at that! Not that it would do her any good, ’cos even if she was older and looked like Constance Bennett, Steve wouldn’t even see her. There was only one girl for him, and that was Jill. You only had to see the way he looked at her and you could tell he was crazy about her.

  While Jack dealt the cards, Molly told herself she was imagining things. Fourteen was too young to be interested in boys. But noting Doreen’s fluttering eyelashes, the toss of her head which sent her hair swirling round her face, and her inane smile, Molly told herself it hadn’t taken her daughter long to discover the opposite sex.

  They were picking up their cards when they heard the back door open.

  ‘Oh, my God, will yez look at the state of him!’ Molly was staring horror-stricken at the sight of Tommy standing in the kitchen doorway. He was absolutely soaked. Small pools were gathering on the lino as the water dripped off his coat. ‘What the hell ’ave you been doin’?’ Molly scraped her chair back. ‘Don’t you dare set foot in this room.’

  ‘Ah, ray, Mam! I’ve only been playin’ snowballs.’ Tommy’s cheeks were red and shining. ‘Can’t I go upstairs?’

  ‘Can you hell’s like! Get those clothes off while I go an’ get yer somethin’ to put on.’ Molly dashed up to his bedroom to get his pyjamas before remembering she’d washed the only pair he possessed.

  Muttering angrily that she’d like to break his flaming neck, she grabbed her old dressing gown and ran down the stairs. ‘Here, put this on.’

  ‘Ah, ray, Mam!’

  Tommy’s horrified expression was so comical, Molly had to bite on the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing. ‘I’ll “Ah, ray, Mam” yer! Get those clothes off so I can hang them up to dry, otherwise there’ll be no school for yer tomorrow an’ then the School Board will be after yer.’

  ‘Do as you’re told, son.’ Jack spoke softly, feeling more than a little sorry for him. What could you expect kids to do when there was snow around? ‘Take yer clothes off an’ give yerself a good rub down with the towel.’

  They all sat straight-faced as Tommy banged around in the kitchen, and nobody batted an eye as he shot through the living room wearing Molly’s dressing gown. They gave him a few minutes to get upstairs, then the laughter erupted.

  ‘Oh, I needed a good belly laugh.’ Molly wiped the back of her hand across her eyes. ‘That was as good as a tonic.’

  ‘It put me in mind of all the snow fights I used to have,’ Jack chuckled. ‘Poor blighter, I felt sorry for him.’

  Steve was holding his stomach, his shoulders shaking. ‘I came home like that once, an’ me mam gave me a clip around the ears.’

  ‘Tommy’s gettin’ too big for me to do that,’ Molly said. ‘I’d ’ave to stand on a stool to reach ’im.’

  ‘He’ll never hear the last of it.’ Doreen was grinning. ‘Wait till I see ’im tomorrow.’

  ‘When you see him tomorrow, Doreen, you’ll keep this closed.’ Jack put a finger to his mouth. ‘We’ve ’ad a good laugh at his expense and that’s the end of it. D’yer hear?’

  ‘Come on.’ Molly picked up her hand of cards. ‘It’ll be bedtime before we get a game in.’

  At ten o’clock, Molly sent a mutinous Doreen off to bed. ‘Yer goin’ for a medical tomorrow, so yer’ll have to be up early. It’s the tin bath in front of the fire as soon as yer dad and Jill ’ave left for work.’ She jerked her thumb towards the door. ‘Now, hop it.’

  ‘I think I’ll be makin’ tracks, too,’ Steve said. ‘You’ll all be wantin’ to go to bed.’

  ‘Aye, we’re not night birds.’ Molly shuffled the cards into a neat pack. ‘You see Steve out, Jill.’

  ‘Will yer come to the pictures with me tomorrow night?’ Steve was holding Jill around the waist. ‘We haven’t been on our own for ages.’

  ‘The weather hasn’t been fit! I’ve only got the one pair of shoes, and by the time I get home they’re soaked.’

  Steve twisted a strand of her long blonde hair around his finger and pulled her face towards his. ‘How about if I meet you outside the shop and we go straight to the flicks?’

  Jill didn’t need much persuading. She’d missed Steve, and every night in bed had prayed the weather would pick up so they could go out together again. ‘Yeah, that would be great. And you could meet me outside night school on Wednesday, if you like?’

  ‘You know I’d like,’ Steve whispered in her ear. ‘D’yer know what else I’d like?’ When Jill shook her head, he said, softly, ‘A kiss.’

  She struggled in his arms. ‘Ooh, what if me mam comes out?’

  Steve chuckled. ‘Then I’ll kiss yer mam, instead.’

  ‘Oh, yer daft thing, go on with yer!’

  ‘I’m taking that as permission to kiss you.’ Before Jill could protest, Steve’s lips came down on hers. Up till now, because of Jill’s shyness and their lack of privacy, their embraces had only been light, more like pecks than kisses. But Steve was feeling brave tonight as he held her close in the darkness and kissed her eyes and cheeks before searching for and finding her mouth. ‘Put your arms around me,’ he begged, ‘just for a minute.’

  Jill slipped her arms around his neck, held him briefly as she returned his kiss, then gently broke away. ‘I’m frightened of me mam seeing us.’

  ‘Your mam knows I’d never do anythin’ to hurt you.’ Steve was glad of the darkness. Jill was the only girl he’d ever been out with, the only one he’d ever wanted to go out with, but he was too inexperienced to put into words what he felt for her. So he contented himself with the thought that she was his girl, and they had the whole future ahead of them. Time enough to tell her how much he loved her.

  In the living room, Molly was asking Jack, ‘Did yer see the way our Doreen was flirting with Steve? She’s a right little minx, that one! Fourteen and actin’ like twenty-four!’

  ‘I’d have to be blind not to ’ave seen!’ Jack chuckled. ‘She had poor Steve wriggling in his chair, his face the colour of beetroot.’

  Molly was pulling Tommy’s sodden trousers into shape before hanging them over the fireguard. ‘If I’d been our Jill, I’d have scratched Doreen’s eyes out.’

  ‘Then it’s a good job our Jill hasn’t got your temper, love.’ Jack lit his last cigarette of the night and leaned forward to throw the spent match into the grate. ‘I don’t think our Doreen realised what she was doing. She’s at an awkward stage, too old for dolls and too young for boys.’

  Jill popped her head around the door. ‘I’m off to bed. Goodnight and God
bless, Mam. God bless, Dad.’

  ‘Goodnight and God bless, sunshine.’

  ‘Oh, I nearly forgot.’ Jill’s head re-appeared. ‘Steve’s meeting me outside work tomorrow, we’re going to the pictures.’

  ‘Okay, love.’ Molly waited until she heard Jill’s tread on the stairs. ‘Gettin’ back to our Doreen, I think I’m goin’ to have to put me foot down with her. She can be real impudent at times, a right little madam.’

  ‘When she starts work she’ll soon have that knocked out of her. Let’s give her the benefit of the doubt. Put it down to childishness and hope she’ll grow out of it.’ Jack drew deeply on his cigarette before flicking it into the fire. He stood up, yawned, and stretched his arms above his head. ‘We’ll keep an eye on her, an’ if she steps out of line she’ll have me to answer to.’

  Molly sidled up to him and put her arms around his waist. ‘Mmm! That’s my man! I love the strong silent type.’

  Jack held her tight. ‘And I love the noisy, loud-mouthed, humorous type. Someone who keeps me on me toes, so I never know what’s going to happen next. Someone with a heart as big as her mouth.’ He held her from him and winked. ‘In fact, someone just like you. You’ll do for me, Molly Bennett.’

  Chapter Eleven

  ‘Sit down and make yerselves at ’ome.’ Molly fussed, pulling chairs out for her guests. ‘I thought we’d be better off all sittin’ at the table where we can see each other.’ Just in time she spotted Nellie McDonough about to sit down on a chair she’d had to bring down from the bedroom to make the number up, and quickly grabbed her friend’s arm. ‘Eh, up, Nellie! That chair’s on its last legs, it won’t stand yer weight. Here, sit on this one.’

  When they were all seated, Molly’s beaming smile travelled round the table, welcoming each of her five neighbours. These were the women who had agreed, after a lot of coaxing, to make up a committee to arrange the street party they were having on the twelfth of May to celebrate the coronation of King George VI.

  There was Ada McClusky, Lizzie Furlong and Vera Parker from the bottom end of the street, and Nellie, Mary Watson and herself from the top end. ‘I know we’ve got six weeks, but it’s not that long when yer come to think about it,’ Molly said. ‘If everyone in the street is goin’ to contribute towards it, I thought it would be a good idea to start collectin’ a few coppers off them each week. It’s no good leavin’ it till the last minute or we’ll have no money to play around with.’