MB01 - Stay In Your Own Back Yard

by Joan Jonker

  Seated at Nellie’s table, Molly moved the aspidistra plant to one side. ‘Can’t see a thing with that in me way. It’s as big as a flamin’ tree!’

  ‘Thirty leaves I’ve got on it now,’ Nellie said proudly. ‘I’ll give yer a cuttin’ off it if yer like, Ellen.’

  ‘Thanks, Nellie.’ The last thing Ellen needed was a plant, but she wouldn’t say no. These two women were the only friends she had, and they’d been so good to her. Like fairy godmothers, they’d looked after her for the last four months. Without them, she’d have lost her sanity.

  Molly could see the pain in Ellen’s eyes and wondered how Nobby still had the power to hurt her. ‘Well, what’s he been up to now?’

  Ellen pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to ease the pain in her head.

  ‘I can’t make the man out. All the times I’ve been there, he’s never once said a word to me. He stares me out, as though daring me to do something. It was the same today. I sat there for about fifteen minutes, then I couldn’t take any more and left.’ She let out a deep sigh. ‘I was walking down the corridor when the matron called me into her office. Apparently the doctor wants to have Nobby fitted with artificial legs. They said he’d be able to get around on crutches if he ’ad them.’ Ellen’s fingers curled around the cup, as though taking comfort from the warmth. ‘But Matron said Nobby won’t entertain the idea. He uses terrible language, she said, and hits out at anyone who goes near ’im.’

  ‘Trust Nobby,’ Molly agreed. ‘He’s ’is own worst enemy. Anyone else in his position would do anythin’ to be able to get out of that bed and move around under ’is own steam.’

  ‘There’s another man in the ward who lost ’is legs in an accident at the docks. He came in a month after Nobby, but he sits out in a chair by the side of the bed, an’ he talks to everyone. He’s strapped in, so he doesn’t fall out, but he’s got a smile for everyone.’ Ellen sipped at the tea. ‘Matron said he’s being fitted with artificial legs an’ he’s over the moon.’

  ‘Doesn’t Nobby talk to the other men in the ward?’ Nellie asked. ‘Surely to God he must talk to someone?’

  Ellen shook her head. ‘Not a word to anyone! The only one he talks to is ’imself. Sits there all day, muttering under ’is breath. The other men in the ward feel sorry for me, I can tell. One day, when I was leavin’, the man in the next bed called me over. He said not to worry, Nobby was like that with everyone, even the matron and nurses. He said he’d tried for weeks to get Nobby talkin’, but he’s given it up as a bad job.’

  ‘What happens now, then?’ Molly asked. ‘Is that what Matron wanted to talk to yer about?’

  ‘I haven’t got a clue what’s going to ’appen, and Matron only wanted to see me to keep me in the picture. She said Nobby’s wounds ’ave healed well, and there’s no reason why he couldn’t learn to walk on artificial legs if he wanted to. But he flatly refuses to ’ave them, and that’s that!’

  ‘Oh, well, if he wants to spend the rest of ’is life in bed, that’s ’is own look out,’ Molly said. ‘Let ’im get on with it.’

  ‘But they’re not goin’ to keep him in ’ospital all his life, are they? An’ I couldn’t manage him at home.’ Ellen’s voice was thick with unshed tears. ‘I know it’s a sin, but I hate him! I couldn’t bear ’im near me, never mind havin’ to lift and carry for ’im.’

  ‘When’s Corker due home?’ Molly asked suddenly. ‘Should be any time now, shouldn’t it?’

  Ellen flushed at the unexpected question. ‘I don’t know for sure. Some day next week, I think.’

  ‘He’ll ’ave a word with the ’ospital.’ Molly’s head nodded slowly. ‘They’ll take more notice of a man, tell ’im more.’ She lifted her empty cup and stared down into the tea leaves. ‘I wish I could read cups, find out what’s in store for me.’

  ‘That’s bad luck, that is,’ Nellie said. ‘Yer shouldn’t believe in things like that.’

  Ignoring Nellie’s remark, Molly fastened her gaze on Ellen. ‘I know I sound nosy, and it’s none of my business, but when yer were young, did yer ever go out with Corker?’

  The blush started at Ellen’s neck and quickly covered her face. ‘Why d’yer ask that?’

  ‘Just curious, that’s all,’ Molly said, with a shrug of her shoulders. ‘Yer can tell me to mind me own business, if yer like.’

  Ellen started to fidget. ‘I did go out with ’im a few times, yes, but what about it?’

  ‘Was he goin’ to sea then?’ Molly slapped Ellen’s hand. ‘Stop pickin’ yer nails, yer’ll get a whitlow an’ then yer’ll know about it. Painful flamin’ things they are.’

  Nellie was leaning her fat elbows on the table, her eyes agog as she waited for Ellen’s answer. When it wasn’t forthcoming, she nudged her neighbour’s arm. ‘Well, was Corker goin’ to sea when yer were goin’ out with him?’

  Ellen nodded. ‘He was hardly ever home.’

  ‘If he’d had a shore job, would yer ’ave gone out with him proper? Yer know, courted him?’ Molly asked.

  ‘I don’t know!’ Ellen started to pick at the skin around her nails again, then noticed Molly’s frown and clasped her hands together. ‘I was only eighteen, and he was away more than he was home. You can’t court someone who’s away six months at a time.’

  ‘An’ so Nobby came along an’ swept yer off yer feet?’ Molly pursed her lips. ‘Yer a fool, Ellen. Anyone who turns down a good man like Corker for a stinker like Nobby must be tuppence short of a shilling.’

  ‘I found that out the hard way, Molly. But what’s done is done, there’s no goin’ back.’

  Molly had her own thoughts on that, but kept them to herself. ‘Yer lucky yer’ve got Corker for a friend, Ellen, he’s one in a million.’ She laid her hands flat on the table and pushed herself up. ‘I’d better get ’ome and get some work done, otherwise my feller will think I sit on me backside all day.’

  Nellie gave her friend a playful push, nearly knocking her off her feet. ‘I’ll stick up for yer, kid! You tell Jack I said yer don’t sit on yer backside all day . . . only half the day.’

  It was unusually quiet around the dinner table that night. The arguing and laughter was missing as all ears listened intently to what Molly was saying. When she’d finished, Tommy was the first to break the silence. ‘Yer mean, he’d ’ave wooden legs, like Peg Leg Pete?’

  Molly tapped her nose. ‘Ay, nose fever, just keep yer trap shut. Anythin’ yer hear in this house stays in this ’ouse, d’yer hear? If yer repeat one word, I’ll break yer flamin’ neck for yer.’

  ‘Your mother’s right,’ Jack said. ‘One word to a living soul an’ yer’ll have me to answer to.’

  ‘I feel very sorry for Mrs Clarke and the kids,’ Jill said. ‘She must be worried sick.’

  ‘She was daft for marryin’ him.’ Doreen spoke with her mouth half full. ‘He’s so ugly an’ mean, I don’t know what she ever saw in him. She must be blind.’

  ‘Ay, clever clogs, just wait an’ see what sort of a husband you get! Yer’ve got to live with a person before yer know what they’re really like.’ Molly hadn’t mentioned Corker and was glad now she hadn’t. In fact, she realised too late she shouldn’t have said anything in front of the children. If she’d had any sense, she’d have waited until she and Jack were on their own. ‘Nobby was probably all right when they were courtin’.’

  Jill was pushing a potato around her plate. ‘How does Mrs Clarke manage for money?’

  ‘She doesn’t!’ Molly said. ‘Mind you, she never moans. But I know what she gets, and by the time she’s paid her ways she can’t ’ave a penny over to buy anythin’ for herself or the kids. They never get any pocket money for sweets, an’ their clothes are in rags. An’ yer must ’ave noticed that Ellen’s still wearin’ the clothes you an’ Mary gave her.’

  Silence descended once again as heads were bent over plates. It had taken the plight of their neighbours to make them realise how lucky they were. ‘I’ve got a ball Peter can ’ave,’ Tommy said gruf
fly. ‘An’ I’ve got some ollies he can share with Gordon. I’m too big now to play silly games.’

  Molly smiled at him fondly. ‘Yeah, yer a big lad now, sunshine! Be leavin’ school in a few months!’

  ‘I’ve got a skirt an’ blouse Mrs Clarke can ’ave,’ Doreen said. ‘I’ve got plenty of clothes now I’m makin’ me own.’

  Molly’s heart was swelling with love and pride. Hers was a family to be proud of. ‘Thanks, love, Ellen will be made up.’

  Jill was wondering how she could help, then an idea came to her. ‘Doreen, if I bought the material, would you make dresses for Phoebe and Dorothy?’ She saw the look that crossed her sister’s face and hurried on before the refusal came. ‘Go on, Doreen, please? I don’t think they’ve ever had a new dress in their lives, and they’d be so thrilled. It wouldn’t take you long, you’re so quick. If I was as clever as you, I’d make them myself.’

  Such praise from a sister she’d always envied had Doreen sitting up straight, a look of pleasure on her face. ‘Yeah, okay! But you’ll buy the cotton as well as the material, won’t yer?’

  Jill nodded. ‘And the pattern.’

  ‘There’s no need to buy a pattern,’ Doreen boasted. ‘I can use the one we’ve got. All I’ve got to do is make a tuck in it.’

  There was genuine admiration on Jill’s face. ‘You were lucky getting that job in Johnson’s, you know, Doreen. You’ve learned something that’ll be of use to you all through your life, especially when you get married and have children. I mean, it’s not only clothes you can make, but curtains, sheets, everything! As for me, what can I do when I get married? Shorthand and typing aren’t going to get me very far.’ She grinned. ‘Unless I write me shopping list in shorthand, just to amuse meself.’

  ‘Go way, yer’ve got more brains in yer little finger than I’ve got in me whole body.’ Doreen put her arm around her sister’s shoulder and squeezed. ‘You’re the brains of the family.’

  Molly sat with her mouth open. This was the first real show of affection she’d seen between her daughters. Their natures were so different, she’d resigned herself to the fact they’d never be really close. But this little scene had proved her wrong. And to think it had been brought about by Ellen’s troubles! It’s a funny old world, Molly thought as she pushed her chair back. And if I don’t move myself quick, I’ll start blubbering like a baby!

  Always able to read his wife’s mind, Jack collected the plates and followed her into the kitchen. As he expected, tears were glistening in her eyes. He put the plates down on the draining board and held his arms wide. ‘Come here.’

  Molly went willingly. With her arms around his waist and her head resting on his chest, she sniffed, ‘We’ve got lovely kids, haven’t we, Jack?’

  He stroked her hair. ‘They couldn’t be anythin’ else, with the mother they’ve got. Yer’ve got a heart as big as a week, Molly, an’ I’m crazy about yer.’

  ‘Go on, yer daft ha’porth!’ She ran the back of her hand across her nose. ‘It’s you they take after . . . the bestest man in the whole world.’

  A discreet cough forced them to break apart. ‘I’ll help with the dishes, Mam.’ Jill rolled the sleeves of her blouse up. ‘I’ll wash, you dry.’

  Jack went to sit in his favourite chair by the fire and picked the evening Echo up. He could hear the low murmur of voices from the kitchen and smiled. God was certainly looking after him the night he met Molly. He couldn’t imagine a life without her.

  Molly picked up a plate and rubbed the tea towel over it. ‘Our Tommy’s gone next door with the toys, but I’ve told ’im to keep his trap shut about the clothes. I want it to be a surprise.’ She reached up to put the plate on a shelf. ‘I’ve been thinkin’, we can’t leave the two boys out, they’d be broken-hearted. So for my contribution, I’ll nip down to Paddy’s market and see if I can get them a decent pair of second-hand trousers an’ a shirt each.’

  Jill emptied the bowl of water into the sink. ‘If you can, get them a jersey each, and I’ll pay for them. It was cold when I came in tonight, and they were standing by their door with just their thin shirts on. They must have been freezing.’

  ‘I don’t think they feel the cold, love, they’re used to it.’ Molly hung the wet tea towel on the draining board. ‘Ellen hasn’t got the money to buy enough coal to keep the ’ouse warm.’

  ‘It’s sad, isn’t it, Mam?’

  Molly moved closer and whispered in Jill’s ear, ‘It is, sunshine, but I’ve got a feelin’ in me bones that one of these days, things are goin’ to start lookin’ up for Ellen. An’ it won’t be before time.’

  Chapter Eighteen

  Doreen chewed on her food without relish. Her mouth was so dry with nerves, the piece of dumpling she was eating felt like a ball of cotton wool. She glanced at her mother under lowered lids, trying to pluck up courage to ask the question that was burning on her tongue but wouldn’t pass her lips. She was the only one at the table; her dad was working late, Jill had gone out with Steve, Tommy was playing with his mates and Ruthie was in bed.

  ‘Yer very quiet tonight.’ Molly was eyeing her daughter suspiciously. ‘Is somethin’ wrong?’

  ‘No!’ Go on, Doreen urged herself, get it over with. If you leave it any longer someone will come in and you’ll have lost the chance. ‘Mam, I’ve told yer about Mike Grant, haven’t I? The boy who works in our place, fixes our machines when they break down?’

  Molly nodded. ‘I’ve heard you an’ Maureen talk about ’im, why?’

  Doreen took a deep breath. ‘He’s asked me to go to the pictures with him on Saturday.’

  ‘What!’ Molly laid her knife and fork down. ‘Over my dead body! Does he know ’ow old yer are?’

  ‘Of course he does! An’ there’s no harm in goin’ to the flicks with him, he’s a nice bloke.’ Doreen averted her eyes. ‘His mate, Sammy, has asked Maureen, so there’d be four of us goin’.’

  ‘Yer mean there would be four if I said yer could go, which I’m not about to,’ Molly huffed. ‘Fourteen years of age an’ going out with a boy, yer dad would ’ave something to say about that!’

  ‘I’ll be fifteen in three weeks!’ Watch your temper, Doreen warned herself, or you’ll rub her up the wrong way. ‘Ah, go on, Mam! We’ll go to the first house an’ be in early, I promise.’

  Molly knew now how her own mother had felt when she wanted to grow up before her time but it wasn’t without sympathy that she said, ‘Even if I said yer could go, yer dad wouldn’t agree to it. We’ve never even seen the boy, know nothin’ about him.’

  ‘He knew yer wouldn’t like it, said his mother wouldn’t let ’is young sister go out with a stranger either. So he’s comin’ up tonight to ask yer himself.’

  That took the wind out of Molly’s sails. He can’t be that bad, she thought. At least he seems to have a bit of sense. ‘How old is he?’

  ‘Him and Sammy are both seventeen.’ Now she’d got it off her chest, the churning in Doreen’s tummy eased. ‘You’d like ’im, Mam, honest!’

  ‘That remains to be seen. An’ yer say he’s comin’ here tonight?’

  ‘I told him to wait at the corner of the street for me. I didn’t want him knockin’ here and gettin’ his head chewed off.’ Doreen picked up Molly’s plate and placed it on top of her own. ‘I’ll help yer wash up.’

  Molly couldn’t keep the chuckle back. ‘Yer a crafty little madam, our Doreen. D’yer think I’m so daft I don’t know when yer trying to soft soap me? I wasn’t born yesterday, nor am I as green as I’m cabbage looking! Offerin’ to wash the dishes, for the first time in living memory, I might add, won’t get yer anywhere with me, my girl.’

  ‘But yer will see him, won’t yer, Mam, please?’

  ‘Yeah, okay! But I’m not promising anythin’, mind! We’ll have to wait an’ see what yer dad says, he’s the boss in this house.’

  Doreen closed her eyes in relief. Her dad might think he was the boss in the house, but Doreen knew different. She’d seen her m
other twist him round her little finger. ‘Yer won’t make a fool of me in front of Mike, will yer, Mam? Don’t forget I’ve got to work with him.’

  Molly poured the kettle of hot water over the dishes in the bowl. ‘Is Maureen comin’ tonight as well?’

  Doreen stood next to the sink, the tea towel ready in her hand. ‘No, she’s staying in, ’cos Sammy’s goin’ to see her mam and dad.’

  Molly let the water drip off a plate before laying it on the draining-board. ‘Well, I’ll say this for the boys, they’ve got good, old-fashioned manners.’ She saw Doreen grin and hastened to add, ‘Don’t think it’s all signed, sealed and delivered, kid, ’cos as I’ve said, it’s up to yer dad.’

  Jack was eating his meal when Doreen came in. She was followed by a tall, thin boy who seemed to be all arms and legs. He had a pale complexion, fine blond hair, and bright blue eyes that were blinking fifteen to the dozen with nerves. He looked so terrified, Molly felt like mothering him.

  ‘Hello, Mike.’ She stretched her hand out. ‘Our Doreen’s told us all about yer.’

  ‘How d’yer do, Mrs Bennett?’ Mike’s voice was gruff, and the smile he attempted didn’t quite come off. He offered his hand to Jack. ‘Pleased to meet yer, Mr Bennett.’

  ‘Same here, son, same here.’ Jack had been primed by Molly to be pleasant. If we don’t like him, she’d said, then Doreen’s not going out with him. But the boy’s doing it the right way, asking permission, so let’s give him a chance. ‘Sit down, son,’ Jack waved his fork, ‘make yerself comfortable.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Mike turned to Doreen, and when she indicated the couch, he sat down. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt when yer havin’ yer dinner.’

  ‘Think nothin’ of it,’ Jack laughed. ‘I was born in a zoo, so I’m used to eatin’ in public.’

  ‘So that’s it!’ Molly’s laugh was loud. ‘I wondered why yer were covered in hair and swing from the lamp-posts.’ She winked at Mike. ‘Married twenty years and now he tells me he’s a gorilla!’