MB01 - Stay In Your Own Back Yard

by Joan Jonker

Molly shook the water from her hands before sticking her head round the door. She gave her husband a broad wink before saying, ‘I’m havin’ a private conversation with the only sensible person in the house . . . meself!’

  Chapter Fourteen

  ‘Mam!’ Jill burst into the room, her face radiant. ‘I passed me exams!’

  ‘Ooh, the gear!’ Molly dropped the blouse she was sewing to run to her daughter. Her arms clasped tightly around the slim waist, she jumped up and down, raining noisy kisses on Jill’s happy face. ‘That’s marvellous, sunshine, I’m so pleased for yer.’

  Jack was standing behind his wife, a smile of pride and satisfaction lighting up his handsome face. ‘I’m delighted, love.’ He cupped her face in his hands. ‘Mind you, I knew yer would, never had any doubts.’

  ‘Full marks I got, for me typing and shorthand.’ Jill took an envelope from her bag. ‘And I’ve got a certificate to prove it.’

  Steve had followed Jill into the room and stood looking on, a grin on his face. ‘Isn’t she clever, Mrs Bennett?’

  ‘Yer can say that again!’ Molly reached once more for her daughter and held her in a bear hug.

  ‘Mam, you’re strangling me, I can’t breathe!’ Jill was grinning from ear to ear as she disentangled herself from her mother’s arms. ‘No more night school.’

  Molly winked at Steve. ‘I wonder who she takes after? Not me, that’s for sure.’

  ‘No, she takes after her father’s side,’ Jack said, then ducked when Molly threw a cushion at him. ‘All my family were brainy.’

  ‘Oh, aye, clever clogs!’ Molly’s mind was working hard to find the right reply. ‘If yer so clever, ’ow d’yer spell encyclopaedia?’

  ‘You think I can’t, don’t yer?’ Jack let out a hearty chuckle. ‘Tell yer what, you write it down an’ I’ll tell yer if yer right.’

  ‘Ha, ha, very funny! Why don’t yer admit yer as thick as two short planks, like me?’ There was pride and love in the gaze Molly turned on her daughter. ‘What yer goin’ to do now, sunshine, look for an office job?’

  ‘I don’t know what to do.’ Jill pulled a face. ‘I love working at Allerton’s, I’d be sad to leave. And Mr John’s been so good to me, I’d feel mean.’

  ‘He’s one in a million, yer’ll go a long way to get a boss like ’im,’ Molly agreed. ‘But he’d understand if yer were leavin’ to better yerself.’

  ‘No use wasting what yer’ve worked two years for,’ Jack said. ‘Get yerself a decent job and do somethin’ with yer life.’

  Molly glanced at Steve out of the corner of her eye. Jack’s remark had taken the smile off his face. He’s probably worried, Molly thought, in case Jill goes up in the world and thinks she’s too good for him. But my daughter’s not like that. She thinks the world of him, and nothing will change that.

  ‘Steve wants me to go up to his, to tell his mam and dad.’ Jill smiled at him. ‘Shall we go?’

  Outside, Jill linked her arm through Steve’s. ‘I hope your mam doesn’t think I’m swanking.’

  ‘Nah!’ He moved his arm to put it around her waist. ‘She’ll be tickled pink.’

  Jill stopped and turned to gaze into his face. ‘You’re happy for me, aren’t you, Steve?’

  ‘I’m a bit jealous.’ Steve put a hand under her chin. ‘Jealous of anythin’ that might take you away from me.’

  ‘Don’t be daft! How can getting another job make any difference? I’m not going to work at the other end of the world!’

  ‘If I ’ad my way, I’d lock yer up until the day we get married.’ Steve’s dimples showed when he grinned. ‘Take no notice of me and give me a kiss.’

  Jill looked up and down the street. ‘Just a quick one, then we’ll go and see your mam and dad.’

  Back in the Bennetts’ house, Jack lit up a cigarette. ‘Yer know, love, I feel as happy as if I’d come up on the pools. I hope she gets herself a decent job, one with prospects.’

  ‘She deserves it after stickin’ at night school for two years.’ Molly picked up the blouse she’d discarded. ‘I’d better get on with this, our Doreen wants it for work tomorrow.’

  ‘I don’t know why she can’t do ’er own sewing,’ Jack said. ‘There’s no excuse, seein’ as she’s sewing all day in work.’

  ‘’Cos she can’t be bothered, that’s why! She’s off out every night, flyin’ her kite! God only knows where she gets to.’

  ‘It’s yer own fault for being so soft with her. Yer want to put yer foot down, make her see to her own clothes.’

  Molly chuckled. ‘If I put me foot down with our Doreen, she’d stand on it.’ She measured a length of cotton from the reel and broke it off between her teeth. ‘I’m puttin’ a few coppers away every week to buy a second hand sewin’ machine. That’ll keep her in. She’s mad about clothes an’ has big ideas about makin’ her own. But there’s method in me madness wantin’ a machine, ’cos if she’s half as handy with one as she brags, she can make me an’ our Ruthie some dresses. God knows we could do with some.’

  ‘Oh, aye,’ Jack laughed. ‘Who d’yer want to get all dolled up for?’

  ‘Well, there’s this feller in the Maypole. The spittin’ image of Clark Gable, he is.’ There was a twinkle in Molly’s eyes as she rested her hand on her lap. ‘But it’s not ’im I want to get dolled up for. There’s another bloke I’ve got me eye on, much more handsome. I think yer know him – his name’s Jack Bennett!’

  ‘Still no change?’

  Ellen shook her head. ‘Not really. He opened ’is eyes for a few seconds this mornin’, but he didn’t seem to see anythin’.’

  Molly pointed to a chair. ‘Park yer carcass, Ellen, yer look absolutely worn out.’

  ‘I don’t only look it, Molly, I feel it.’ Ellen sat on the edge of the chair, hopelessness and despair written all over her. ‘I feel like goin’ to bed an’ never gettin’ up again.’

  Nobby had been in hospital two weeks now, and against all the odds he was still clinging to life. Every day Ellen made the long trek to the hospital, just to sit beside his bed for a short while. She hadn’t told anyone, but she walked there and back because she couldn’t afford the tram fare, and was physically and mentally worn out.

  ‘What do the doctors say?’ Just looking at Ellen made Molly want to cry, she looked so pathetic. ‘Don’t they tell yer anythin’?’

  ‘I don’t see a doctor, only the sister on the ward.’ Ellen let out a deep sigh. ‘Nobody expected Nobby to last this long, so they’re not goin’ to commit themselves one way or the other. All they’ll say is that he’s still critically ill.’

  It was Molly’s turn to sigh. ‘Something’s got to happen soon, one way or another, he can’t go on like this for ever.’

  ‘You’re right about one thing. Somethin’ ’as got to happen soon.’ Ellen was picking nervously at a loose strand of cotton on the sleeve of her coat. ‘I’ve got to find meself a job, or we’ll be out on the street, me an’ the kids.’

  ‘That bad, is it?’

  Ellen nodded. ‘I haven’t paid the rent this week, an’ I owe the corner shop for the stuff I got on tick last week. All the money I’ve had in the last two weeks is the money Nobby had comin’ from work, the loose change he ’ad in his pocket, and the ten bob you gave me from Corker. If I don’t get a job soon to pay me ways, we’ll be out on the street.’

  ‘There must be somewhere yer can go for help! Have yer asked Miss Pritchard at the ’ospital?’

  ‘Yeah, she gave me an address to go to for Public Assistance and a bloke came to see me yesterday. Yer should ’ave heard the questions he asked, I felt terrible! After lookin’ all over the ’ouse to see if I ’ad anythin’ to sell, he wanted to know every ha’penny I’ve ’ad since Nobby went in ’ospital.’

  ‘It’s called the means test,’ Molly told her. ‘There’s a few families in the street on the parish, an’ they had the same thing.’

  ‘After goin’ through all that, d’yer know what I’ll be gettin’ from next week? Fifteen
shillings a week to keep the five of us! That’ll just pay me rent, gas an’ half a bag of coal. Nothin’ over for food or clothes. So it’s a case of gettin’ meself a job or puttin’ me head in the gas oven.’

  ‘Yer can cut that sort of talk out, Ellen Clarke, it doesn’t get yer anywhere.’ Molly dragged her chair nearer. She slapped Ellen’s hand, tutting, ‘If yer don’t stop pullin’ at that cotton, yer’ll have no coat on yer back! Now, let’s put our heads together an’ see what we can come up with. What sort of work can yer do?’

  ‘I’m only fit for cleanin’, but I tried that once before an’ there were no jobs goin’.’

  Molly gazed at the thin pale face, the straight dull hair and shabby clothes. If Ellen went after a job looking like something the cat had dragged in, no one would give her a second glance, never mind a job.

  ‘Look, Ellen, yer might not like what I’ve got to say, but I’m goin’ to say it anyway. So hear me out, ’cos it’s for yer own good.’ Molly took a deep breath. Why do I get meself involved? she wondered. Then she looked at Ellen’s face and found her answer. Someone had to get involved.

  ‘Before yer go after a job, yer’ll have to do somethin’ about yerself.’ When Ellen’s mouth opened to protest, Molly waved an impatient hand. ‘No, I’ve started now, and if it kills me, I’m goin’ to finish. After yer’ve heard what I’ve got to say, yer can walk out of that door an’ never speak to me again, that’s up to you. But at least I’ll know I’ve done me best.

  ‘I may be tellin’ tales out of school, but right now I couldn’t care less, so here we go.’ Molly leaned her elbows on the table and cupped her face in her hands. ‘Corker told me he knew yer years ago, an’ that yer were nice-lookin’, always dressed up to the nines, a smashin’ dancer and full of fun. We know Nobby dragged yer down, but he’s not here now! Yer don’t have to be lookin’ over yer shoulder all the time, waitin’ for the next go-along!’ Molly paused for breath. ‘Yer’ve touched rock bottom now, so the only way to go is up. Make somethin’ of yerself, and yer life. For the kids’ sake, as well as yer own.’

  ‘Oh, aye?’ The sarcasm was thick in Ellen’s voice. ‘Shall I get the tram into town and visit the shops? A dress from Lewis’s perhaps, a coat from Blackler’s, and some make-up from Owen Owen? Is that what yer mean? Well, you’re the one with the big ideas, tell me ’ow I can do all that with only tuppence between me an’ the workhouse?’

  ‘By gettin’ rid of that chip on yer shoulder for a kick off!’ Molly closed her eyes. I want me bumps feeling, she thought, sitting here trying to help someone who doesn’t want to be helped! Then she saw the funny side of the situation, and when she opened her eyes she was grinning. ‘Well, I haven’t put a smile on yer gob, but I’ve put yer in a right temper. At least that’s somethin’.’

  Ellen lowered her head. ‘I’m sorry, Molly, but me nerves are shattered. I’m at me wits’ end and don’t know where to turn.’

  ‘Then don’t bite the hand that’s tryin’ to feed yer! I want to help yer, but how can I, when yer won’t let me?’

  Ellen sat up straight. ‘Tell me what to do.’

  ‘That’s better!’ Molly was thoughtful for a while, sorting things out in her mind. ‘Look, I can’t do it all on me own, I’ll need to ask some of me friends. But don’t worry, I’m not goin’ to blab to the neighbours.’ She saw the doubt on Ellen’s face and hastened to reassure her. ‘Ellen, yer need help and yer not in a position to pick an’ choose who gives it! But I promise yer troubles will go no further than two of me best mates. So go ’ome and leave things with me. I’ll see yer later.’

  ‘Good afternoon, Mr Reynolds, an’ how’s the world treating you this fine day?’

  ‘Oh, lord, here they come, the terrible twins!’ Tony Reynolds slapped an open palm to his forehead, knocking his straw hat to the side of his head. ‘I knew me luck wouldn’t last.’ His ruddy cheeks widened into a smile. ‘Hi, ya, Molly, Nellie! Come to buy me shop up, have yez?’

  Molly was looking at the selection of meat on display in the window. ‘I’d like that leg of mutton, but I won’t ’ave it for two reasons. First, I can’t afford it, and second, there’s two flamin’ big blue-bottles walkin’ all over it. So instead I’ll ’ave a pound an’ a half of mince.’

  Tony reached into the window for the tray of mincemeat. ‘How’s the family, Molly? I know yer ma’s all right, she was in this morning.’

  ‘Still talkin’ about the wonder of electricity, is she?’ Molly laughed. ‘She’s like a child with a new toy. Every time I go she switches the light on, just to show off.’

  ‘I can’t wait to get “electrocuted” meself.’ Nellie’s body shook with laughter. ‘I thought that was the funniest thing I’d heard in years! Still, Bridie’s got the last laugh, sittin’ pretty with her lovely bright light while we’re groping around in ruddy doom and gloom.’ She saw Tony about to put the tray back in the window. ‘Hang on, I’ll have the same as Molly.’

  Molly handed a two bob piece over, and as she waited for her change asked, as casually as she could, ‘Who helps yer with the cleanin’, Tony?’

  ‘In the shop, yer mean?’

  ‘Yeah! Do it yerself, do yer?’

  ‘Yes, worse luck. All the trays, knives, counters and chopping blocks have to be scrubbed every night. And twice a week the inside of the window. By the time I get home, it’s time for bed. The missus goes mad, swears I’ve got a fancy woman on the side.’

  ‘Ever thought of gettin’ a cleanin’ woman?’ Molly asked. ‘Yer’d get home earlier every night if yer ’ad one.’

  ‘I’ve tried a few, but they don’t last.’ Tony wiped his hands down the front of his blood-stained apron. ‘The time’s awkward for most women, they need to be home to see to their family.’

  ‘If yer could get a woman, would yer take ’er on? Someone local?’

  ‘For heaven’s sake, we’ll be ’ere all day at this rate!’ Nellie clicked her tongue. ‘Tony, we know someone who’s desperate, on ’er uppers, are yer interested?’

  ‘Depends if she’s reliable, and doesn’t want payin’ too much.’ Tony began to see the attraction of finishing early every night, and his interest grew. ‘Do I know her?’

  ‘No, she’s one of our neighbours,’ Molly told him. ‘Her ’usband’s in hospital, she’s got four kids an’ is in dire straits.’

  Tony’s eyebrows nearly touched his hairline. ‘Four kids! Oh, no, she wouldn’t be reliable! It’s no good takin’ someone on who’ll turn up in fits and starts.’

  ‘She wouldn’t let yer down, Tony, I promise.’ Molly’s heart was saying a prayer. ‘Two of the kids are old enough to look after the house, an’ me and Nellie are goin’ to help, aren’t we, kid?’

  ‘Yer’ve got nowt to lose, Tony. If she’s no good, then sack her!’ Nellie’s huge bosom heaved. ‘But go ’ed, at least give the woman a chance.’

  Tony looked from one to the other. ‘Oh, all right, yer’ve twisted me arm an’ I know when I’m licked. Tell ’er to come an’ see me in the morning, an’ if she suits, she can start on Monday.’

  ‘Ooh, I love yer, Tony!’ Molly beamed. ‘But if she suits, why can’t she start right away? Just think ’ow nice it’ll be to get ’ome earlier, ’ave more time with yer missus.’

  ‘Go ’ed, pile it on!’ But Tony was laughing. These two would get blood out of a stone. ‘Tell ’er it’s five days a week, no Wednesday ’cos it’s half day closing. An hour and a half, from five o’clock. And I’ll pay her five bob a week. Explain all that to her, an’ if she still wants to come tell her to see me in the morning. Now, are yer both satisfied?’

  ‘Tony, yer a real gent,’ Molly said, making her way to the door. ‘Her name’s Ellen Clarke, an’ she’ll be ’ere at nine in the morning.’

  ‘Thanks, Tony.’ Nellie edged sideways through the door. ‘Ta-ra for now.’

  The two friends stood on the pavement looking very pleased with themselves. ‘Not bad goin’, eh, kid?’ Nellie anchored the handle of her shopping ba
sket in the crook of her arm. ‘Ellen will be made up.’

  Molly was running her eyes along the blocks of shops either side of the road. ‘Now, where else can we try?’

  ‘Ah, ray, Molly!’

  ‘Oh, stop yer moanin’, Nellie! If we can get ’er fixed up with another little job at five bob a week, that’ll really help her out. And it’ll give ’er a bit of confidence to ask around herself.’ Molly weighed the shops up. ‘I was pullin’ Jack’s leg last night about the feller in the Maypole, said he looked like Clark Gable. I think I’ll try me charms on ’im, see if there’s anything goin’ there.’ She grabbed hold of Nellie’s arm. ‘Come on, me old cock sparrer, I need yer to back me up.’

  ‘I dunno,’ Nellie grunted as she allowed herself to be led across the road, weaving in and out of the traffic. ‘The things I let you talk me in to! I need me brains testin’!’

  Molly sat drumming her fingers on the table as she watched Doreen’s reflection in the mirror. She hadn’t mentioned the events of the day to Jack, waiting until Doreen and Tommy went out. If they got word of what was going on, it would be all over the street in no time. Sometimes Molly thought the neighbours knew more about her than she did herself. Tommy was out playing with his mates, so it was only Doreen now. ‘How long are yer goin’ to be titivating yerself up?’

  Sliding the comb through her long hair, Doreen’s eyes met her mother’s in the mirror. ‘What’s the hurry?’

  ‘I’m not in any hurry,’ Molly lied. ‘It’s just that yer get on me nerves, preening yerself like a flamin’ peacock.’

  Doreen gathered the loose hairs from the comb and threw them in the grate. She’d blossomed since she left school, had grown into an attractive girl. She knew it, too, and never went out until she was satisfied she was looking her best. ‘I’m goin’ now, I’m meetin’ Maureen off the bus.’

  ‘Ten o’clock, mind!’ Jack looked up from the Echo. ‘No later.’

  ‘Okay, okay!’ Doreen glanced in the mirror once more, then, happy with what she saw, she waved good-bye. ‘See yez!’

  Jill was sewing a button on her overall and Ruthie’s head was bent over a colouring book. It didn’t matter about Jill, she would never repeat anything, but Ruthie had as big a mouth as the other two.