by Joan Jonker
Jill slipped her hand through Steve’s arm. ‘Thanks for your card, Steve, it’s lovely.’ She tilted her head to smile into his face. ‘I’m glad I didn’t let me mam see it, not with all those kisses on. She’d have pulled me leg soft.’
‘Sixteen kisses for sixteen years.’ Steve pressed her hand. ‘When yer sixty, there’ll be sixty kisses on yer card.’
‘I’ve had a lovely day,’ she told him. ‘The girls in work bought me handkerchieves and stockings, I got a lovely silk scarf off Mr John and a pretty blouse off me nanna and grandpa.’
‘The day isn’t over yet. We’re goin’ somewhere nice, an’ that’s my present to yer.’
Jill could see a tram rumbling its way towards the stop and pulled on Steve’s hand. ‘Let’s sit upstairs.’
‘Where would you like to go?’ he asked, thinking he’d never seen her looking lovelier. It was a warm summer evening and she was dressed in a pretty floral dress with a sweetheart neck, nipped in waist and full skirt. Her long blonde hair, brushed till it shone, was set off by the band Doreen had given her. ‘D’yer want to go to the flicks?’
‘It’s up to you.’ Jill’s vivid blue eyes met his. ‘I’ll go wherever you want.’
Steve shook his head. ‘It’s your birthday, you choose.’
‘It’s such a nice night, can’t we go down to the Pier Head? We could watch the ferry boats come in.’
‘Why watch when we can go on one? We could sail to Seacombe and walk to New Brighton.’ Steve covered her hand with his. ‘The sea air will do us good.’
They were travelling along Scotland Road and Jill pointed out of the window. ‘I love to see the Mary-Ellens in their long black skirts and the black knitted shawls around their shoulders. But they must be roasting in them in this weather.’
‘They dress like that in any weather,’ Steve said. ‘Scottie Road wouldn’t be the same without the Mary-Ellens.’
The fine weather had brought many people down to the Pier Head. There was nothing nicer, on a pleasant, warm evening, than to sail on a ferry across the Mersey. For twopence you could dream you were boarding one of the big liners about to set sail for some faraway shore.
Steve was smiling happily when he came back from buying the tickets.
‘Come on, there’s a ferry in.’ The queue at the landing stage moved forward quickly, and soon Steve and Jill were standing looking over the rails of the ferry.
‘I don’t ever remember being on a boat before,’ she said. ‘Me mam said she used to take me to New Brighton when I was a baby, but I can’t remember. Then when the others came along, she couldn’t afford to take us.’
The ferry shuddered, then began its slow turn to head in the direction of Seacombe. When it gathered speed, Steve hung over the rail to watch the white foam made by the boat ploughing its way through the water. ‘Come and have a look-see, Jill.’
Jill leaned over, then quickly stepped back. ‘Be careful, you might fall in.’
Hearing the anxiety in her voice, Steve moved from the rail. ‘Let’s walk along the deck.’ With an arm around her waist, he pointed back to the Liverpool water-front. ‘See those Liver Birds? I bet they could tell a few tales. They can see everythin’ from up there.’
‘What about these birds?’ Jill was looking up at the seagulls, swooping low over their heads, then soaring away, high in the sky. ‘I love watching birds, they’re so graceful.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t stand there with yer mouth open!’ Steve grinned.
The journey was over too soon for Jill. With the light breeze blowing across the Mersey, the seagulls flying overhead and Steve’s arm around her waist, she could have stayed on the boat all night. But she comforted herself with the thought of the journey back.
They strolled lazily in the direction of New Brighton, stopping first to buy a quarter pound box of Cadbury’s which Steve presented to Jill with a flourish, then an ice-cream from a Wall’s stop-me-and-buy-one cart.
‘This is the life,’ Jill sighed dreamily, her tongue streaking out to lick the ice-cream. ‘I could go a bundle on this.’
‘Wait till I’m out of me time an’ on decent money,’ Steve said. ‘We can do this every weekend.’
‘Sounds heavenly.’ Jill started when Steve bent down quickly to pick something from the ground. ‘Did you drop something?’
Steve held his hand out to reveal a brass curtain ring. ‘I thought at first it was a gold ring.’ He gazed at the ring, then into Jill’s face. ‘Let’s pretend it is a proper ring. Hold yer hand out.’
Jill started to laugh, then saw that Steve was serious. ‘I can’t wear that! Me finger would go all green.’
‘It’s only pretend,’ Steve said. ‘Go on, just to please me.’
Jill held out her left hand and watched as Steve slipped the rusty brass curtain ring on her third finger. ‘You’re as daft as a brush, Steve McDonough.’
‘Now we’re engaged.’ His face was a picture of happiness. ‘Wear it for tonight, then keep it in yer purse until I can buy yer a proper ring.’ He tucked Jill’s hand into his arm. ‘Every time yer open yer purse, yer’ll think of me.’
‘I don’t need anything to remind me of you,’ Jill told him, in a rare show of emotion. ‘I think about you all the time.’
Steve’s heart doing somersaults, they strolled on in comfortable silence. He kept glancing sideways, wanting to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, that this beautiful girl walking beside him really did belong to him. He must be the luckiest bloke in the whole world. When they reached New Brighton they noticed many young people hurrying in the same direction. Most of the girls were wearing silver dance shoes and pretty dresses, while the men wore suits, with shiny patent leather shoes tucked under their arms.
‘I wonder where they’re all going?’ Jill was making a mental note of the fashionable dresses. Doreen had promised to make her one when their mam bought a sewing machine. ‘They’re all dressed up, there must be something big on.’
‘They’re goin’ dancing, to the Tower Ballroom,’ Steve said knowingly. ‘Some of the fellers in work come over here a couple of times a week.’
‘Don’t the girls look lovely?’ Jill looked down at the dress she’d thought was nice until now. These girls certainly didn’t get their dresses for four and eleven from TJ’s. ‘They’re really glamorous.’
‘Jill, sweetheart, they couldn’t hold a candle to you,’ Steve said. ‘You knock spots off all of them.’
‘Thanks, Steve.’ She smiled. ‘They say love is blind.’
‘I’ve got a good pair of eyes in me head, Jill, an’ I bet if yer went in the dance, just as you are, the fellers would be fallin’ all over themselves to dance with yer.’ Steve pulled her to him and held her close, ignoring the stares of people passing. ‘Just take a good look in the mirror an’ yer’ll see I’m right.’
Jill pulled away, embarrassed by the public show of affection. ‘Come on, it’s time to turn back. Me mam doesn’t like me to be out late.’
They walked back, arm in arm, Jill’s head resting on Steve’s shoulder. She broke the silence, speaking more to herself than to him. ‘When I get a decent job, I’m going to buy meself nice clothes.’
‘Yer’ll do for me, just as yer are.’ Steve dropped a kiss on her head. ‘Isn’t there a song that says, “just the way you look, tonight”? Well, that song says it all. I love you just the way yer are.’
There was a ferry waiting at the landing stage, they caught a tram right away, and all too soon were standing outside Jill’s front door. ‘Are you coming in?’
Steve shook his head. ‘I’d rather have yer to meself for a few minutes. Did yer enjoy yerself?’
‘Oh, yes, Steve, it’s been lovely. I’ll never forget me sixteenth birthday as long as I live. The whole day’s been perfect, but tonight was the best.’ Jill’s head moved to see if the coast was clear, then she planted a quick kiss on his mouth. ‘Thank you, Steve.’
She couldn’t see the twinkle in Steve’s eyes,
but the deepening dimples in his cheeks told her something was amusing him. ‘What are you laughing at?’
‘Haven’t you forgotten somethin’?’
Jill frowned. ‘Like what?’
‘Like a certain brass curtain ring, on a certain finger?’
‘Oh, flippin’ heck, I’d forgotten!’ Her face crimson, Jill tugged at the ring. ‘It’s a good job yer reminded me. Me mam would have had a duck egg if she’d seen it.’
‘Don’t forget to keep it in yer purse until I can buy yer a real one.’
Steve saw one of their neighbours turn the corner, and kissed Jill quickly before the man came too close. Ted Johnson was noted for being talkative when he’d had a few pints and Steve didn’t want the evening spoilt by having to listen to the ramblings of a drunken man. ‘I’ll call for yer tomorrow night, eh? We can go for a walk.’
Jill kissed her fingertips and placed them briefly over Steve’s mouth. ‘Okay. Sleep well and dream of me.’
They stopped outside the ward doors and Ellen took a deep breath. ‘Now for it.’
Molly’s grip on the paper bag tightened. She thought it would look mean if she didn’t bring something in, so she’d bought an apple, an orange and a banana. Now she was wishing she hadn’t come. Ellen’s nervousness had rubbed off on her and she was feeling very apprehensive. ‘Let’s get it over with,’ she said, gruffly. ‘I ’ate ’ospitals. The sooner I’m out, the better I’ll like it.’
As they approached the bed, Molly saw the arched structure under the bedding, covering the bottom half of Nobby’s body. ‘What’s that?’ she whispered.
‘Sister said it’s to keep the clothes off ’is wounds,’ Ellen whispered back. ‘You know, where they ’ad to cut ’is legs off.’
Nobby, propped up on three pillows, was staring straight ahead at the wall opposite. He didn’t turn as they neared the bed, nor did he acknowledge Ellen’s greeting. She shrugged her shoulders at Molly in a gesture that said, ‘I told you so’.
I’m not coming all this way for nothing, Molly told herself as she pushed past Ellen. God loves a trier, and I’m going to try. ‘Hello, Nobby! How are yer? It’s about time I came to see yer, isn’t it?’
Molly gave a gasp as she backed away in horror, banging her hip on the sharp corner of the locker at the side of the bed. But she didn’t even feel the pain as her mind reeled. Never in all her life had she seen such hatred or venom as there was in the eyes boring in to hers. And Nobby’s stare didn’t waver. With his nostrils flared, his top lip raised in a cruel snarl, he reminded Molly of the devil.
Ellen put her hand on Molly’s arm. ‘Shall I get yer a chair, Molly, an’ yer can sit down?’
She shook her head. ‘No, ta, Ellen, I don’t want to sit.’ She was having difficulty breathing. What had she ever done to Nobby Clarke that he should hate her so much? Then she tried to think rationally, remembering what she’d told Ellen, that anyone would be the same if they’d gone through what he had. Knowing he was never going to walk again was enough to send him off his rocker.
While Molly waited for her heartbeat to slow down, she told herself to show compassion and sympathy. Perhaps that was what Nobby needed, a little understanding of the torment he must be going through. And what he’d have to go through for the rest of his life. Taking a deep breath, she turned and put the paper bag on the side of the bed. ‘I’ve brought yer a bit of fruit, Nobby . . .’ Her words trailed off when she looked up, straight into the unblinking eyes that had been watching her every move. It was still there, the hatred, cruelty and venom. And in her mind, Molly added another word . . . murder.
Molly’s hand was shaking as she picked up the bag of fruit and put it on the locker. ‘I’ll be goin’ now, Ellen.’
‘I’m comin’ with yer.’
‘Come on, then, girl.’ She cupped her hand under Ellen’s elbow. No wonder the poor thing looks terrified, she thought, I’d be the same if I had to come here every day and put up with that.
‘I told yer, didn’t I?’ They were out of the ward and walking down the corridor when Ellen spoke. ‘He’s not in ’is right mind, is he?’
‘I don’t know what to think,’ Molly admitted. ‘But we’ll ask someone who should know.’
The matron was small in stature but not lacking in efficiency. She didn’t waste time or try to fob them off. ‘Yes, Mrs Clarke, we are experiencing some difficulty with your husband. He is very bad-tempered and abusive. The staff are finding him a difficult patient as he refuses to co-operate.’ She looked at the small watch pinned to her uniform. ‘The doctor is due to do his round soon, I’ll mention your concern.’ Her eyes were questioning. ‘Before the, er, accident, what sort of a disposition did your husband have? Pleasant, happy, bad-tempered?’
‘He’s always ’ad a terrible temper,’ Ellen said, thinking honesty was the best policy. ‘Least thing would set ’im off, an’ he was violent, too!’
‘I rather gathered that. But it is the doctor’s opinion that he will improve mentally when he comes to terms with his disability, so we’ll just have to wait and see. It’s early days yet.’ She rose from behind the desk, signifying the interview was at an end, and looked kindly at Ellen. ‘It must be hard for you, coming in every day and having a family to look after. Why not cut the visits down to once or twice a week? We can always contact you if necessary.’
Walking down the long hospital path, Ellen said, ‘I’m out of me mind worryin’ what’s goin’ to happen. I couldn’t cope with havin’ Nobby home the way he is, he’d have me in an early grave.’
‘I don’t envy yer, Ellen,’ Molly grunted. She prayed God would forgive her for her thoughts but the man was evil and there was no getting away from it. And after today she didn’t ever want to set eyes on him again.
‘Our Jill’s late, she’s usually in before you.’ Molly put Jack’s dinner down in front of him. ‘I ’ope nothing’s wrong.’
‘Mother hen worrying about her chicks, eh?’ Jack speared a carrot on the end of his fork. ‘What will yer do when they all fly the coop?’
‘Jack, I’ll worry about me kids until me dying day.’ Molly sat opposite, her face downcast. ‘And I’m not in the mood for jokes, I’ve ’ad a terrible day.’
‘Why?’ Jack stopped chewing. ‘Not sick, are yer?’
Molly shook her head, then told him in detail about her hospital visit. When she’d finished, Jack asked, ‘Why d’yer have to take everyone’s troubles on board? Haven’t yer got enough with yer own family?’ He gazed at Molly’s pale face and troubled eyes, and his temper rose. ‘Nobby Clarke’s not worth makin’ yerself ill for! You are not to get involved, d’yer hear? I don’t often interfere with what yer do, but I am this time! I want to come home from work to see me wife with a smile on her face, not sittin’ worryin’ about other people.’
Molly held her hand up. ‘Okay, boss! But yer’ve no need to get all het up about it, I wouldn’t go to see Nobby Clarke again for a big clock. Put the fear of God into me, he did.’
Jack jerked his head. ‘Here’s our Jill now.’
Jill leaned her weight on the table, gasping for breath. ‘Mam, never in a month of Sundays will you guess what’s happened.’
‘Yer’ve got a rise?’ Molly asked.
‘No, better than that!’ Jill straightened up, her face aglow. ‘I’ve got an interview for a job as a shorthand typist.’ Satisfied with the surprise on her parents’ faces, she hurried on. ‘Mr John got it for me. He had to go and see his solicitor today, on some business, and when his solicitor happened to mention they’d put an advert in the Echo for a junior typist, Mr John put a word in for me. Isn’t that marvellous!?’
‘Oh, love, I’m made up for yer.’ Molly reached for her daughter’s hand. ‘That’s just the sort of news I needed to cheer me up, after the lousy day I’ve had.’
‘Why, what’s wrong?’
‘Not a thing, sunshine, just a storm in a teacup.’ Molly wasn’t going to say anything that would take that look of happiness away. ‘
When d’yer go for the interview?’
‘Tomorrow afternoon, Mr John’s giving me a couple of hours off.’ Jill gave a little twirl. ‘Ooh, Mam, I’m excited and terrified at the same time.’
‘There’s no need to be frightened, love,’ Jack said, ‘they can’t eat you.’ His brows drew together in thought. ‘Are there any other girls being interviewed?’
‘Yes, a couple, Mr John said.’ Jill pulled a face. ‘I keep telling meself not to build me hopes up because the chances are I won’t get the job.’
‘And why not!’ Molly demanded indignantly. ‘Yer as good as the next, any day.’
‘Never mind as good as, she’s better than! You walk in there tomorrow with yer head held high, love, and yer’ll bowl ’em over.’ Jack’s face split into a grin. ‘Mind you, I’m biased, but they need their eyes an’ brains testing if they don’t hand yer the job on a silver platter.’
‘Dad’s right, sunshine, it’ll be a cake walk.’ There was more confidence in Molly’s voice than she felt. Not that she didn’t think her daughter was good enough, but she’d probably be up against competition from girls who’d been to high school and that would be a big plus in their favour. An extra prayer tonight wouldn’t go amiss, Molly told herself as she scraped her chair back. Three Hail Marys, three Our Fathers and a prayer to Saint Anthony. ‘I’ll get yer dinner, it’s keepin’ warm on top of a pan.’
Jill pulled on her arm. ‘Leave it for five minutes, Mam, I want to go up to Steve’s. I’m supposed to be going out with him tonight, but I want to wash me hair and iron me blouse and skirt. I need to look me best tomorrow, make a good impression.’
‘Don’t forget to take the certificate yer got from night school,’ Jack said. ‘They’ll want to see it.’
‘I won’t.’ Jill was already halfway down the hall. ‘Mr John’s giving me a reference to take as well.’
‘Keep yer fingers crossed, love,’ Jack said, before turning his attention back to his now cold dinner.
‘I’ll keep everythin’ I’ve got crossed! Me fingers, me legs and me eyes.’
Molly giggled and the sound warmed her husband’s heart. ‘An’ if yer dare call me Buster Keaton, I’ll clock yer one.’