by Joan Jonker
When Molly went to answer a knock on the door and Jill heard Nellie’s voice, she clasped her hands together, fixed a smile on her face and said a silent prayer.
Molly held her hand out for Nellie and George’s coats. ‘Steve not comin’, then?’
Nellie shrugged out of her coat. ‘No, he sends his apologies but he’d already promised to go to a mate’s.’
Jill could feel all eyes on her, but her smile never wavered. ‘I’ll take the coats up, Mam.’
‘Put them on our bed, sunshine, and try not to make a noise goin’ up the stairs,’ Molly said without meeting her daughter’s eyes. ‘Ruthie was so tired I don’t think a bomb would wake her, but best not to take any chances.’
Jill climbed the stairs, biting on the inside of her lip to keep the tears at bay. It was pitch dark in the front bedroom, and after feeling for the brass knob at the end of the bedpost, she sat down with the coats still draped over her arms. With no one to witness her sadness she asked herself why she had ever agreed to go to that stupid dinner. She should have listened to Steve when he said he didn’t want her to go. If she had, he’d be sitting downstairs right this minute waiting for her with that special look in his eyes and a wide, welcoming smile on his face.
Jill gulped in an effort to move the lump that was forming in her throat. Rubbing her hand up and down the material of Nellie’s coat, she whispered, ‘But he’s not downstairs, he’s gone to his mates. He prefers their company to mine now. I’ve lost him, and it’s all me own fault.’
Then a voice in her head asked, Why was it your fault? Ye gods, it wasn’t as though you’d gone out on a date with Miles. He’s just a friend, that’s all! If Steve’s packed you up because of that, then he couldn’t have loved you as much as he said he did.
Jill nodded her head in agreement and started to question the justice of the whole affair. She’d done nothing wrong, so why was she blaming herself? It seemed to her now that Steve must have wanted to finish with her and was using this as an excuse. Well, if that was what he wanted, then good luck to him. She certainly wasn’t going to run after him!
Jill jumped when she heard her mother’s voice floating up the stairs. ‘What’s takin’ yer so long, sunshine?’ Molly called. ‘I’m waitin’ for yer to give me a hand with the eats.’
‘Coming, Mam!’ Jill laid the coats down on the bed and took a deep breath, determined she wasn’t going to let Steve spoil her night. But as she put her hand on the banister rail, she asked herself why, if she didn’t care, she felt as though a door had been slammed in her face? And why was her heart so heavy?
Molly was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. She eyed her daughter anxiously before taking her by the arm. ‘Give Doreen a hand to pass the sarnies round, there’s a good girl, while I make the tea.’
For the next few hours Jill put on the performance of her life. She helped with the food, refilled glasses as soon as they were empty, sang with gusto and laughed loudly at Sinbad’s jokes and Doreen’s interpretation of the Charleston. She looked as though she didn’t have a care in the world.
Molly caught Jack’s eye and leaned forward to whisper in his ear, ‘Who’s she tryin’ to kid?’
‘Mam!’
Molly turned to see Ruthie clinging to the door frame rubbing the sleep from her eyes. ‘Ah, did we wake yer up, sunshine?’
‘Can I stay down, Mam?’ The rosebud mouth quivered. ‘I’m frightened in the dark on me own, in case Old Nick comes.’
‘I’ll take her up.’ Jill took her sister’s hand. ‘I’m tired anyway, so I’ll get into bed with her. Our Doreen can sleep in my bed.’
Molly opened her mouth to protest, then realised Jill was glad of the excuse to escape. ‘Are yer sure?’
She nodded. ‘Goodnight, everyone.’
After a chorus of goodnights, the room was silent until they heard the click of the bedroom door closing. Then Bridie sighed softly. ‘Young love can be very painful at times, so it can.’
‘Yer know the old saying: True love never runs smooth.’ Jack passed his cigarette packet around. ‘By this time next week it’ll all be forgotten and they’ll be as thick as thieves again.’
Nellie turned the key in the lock and pushed the front door open. ‘The light’s on, George, someone must still be up.’
Steve looked up from the book he was holding. ‘Hi-ya.’
‘You’re back early.’ Nellie threw the bunch of keys on the sideboard. ‘I thought yer were stayin’ at yer mate’s?’
‘I changed me mind.’ Steve closed the book that had been open at the same page for the last half hour. He leaned forward and put it on the table. ‘The house was packed, we were jammed in like sardines. So I decided to come ’ome and get some sleep.’
‘Yer should ’ave come with us,’ George said, pretending he didn’t know anything was amiss. ‘We’ve had a great time, haven’t we, Nellie?’
‘Always do when we go to Molly’s. An’ that Sinbad is a scream. Me throat’s sore with laughin’ at his jokes.’ Nellie’s eyes were lost in folds of flesh as she chuckled. ‘That one about the parrot had me doubled up.’
George flashed her a warning glance. Sinbad’s jokes were a bit near the knuckle and not for the ears of youngsters. Even he had waited until Molly’s children were in the kitchen making tea before telling the one about the parrot. ‘He’s a real comedian, is Sinbad.’
‘I’m makin’ a cuppa.’ Nellie eyed her son. ‘D’yer want one, Steve?’
‘No, ta, Mam, I’m goin’ to bed.’
Nellie waited for a few minutes then closed the living room door. ‘I can’t make ’im out! There’s something fishy about the whole thing, if yer ask me. Him and Jill are as close as two peas in a pod one minute, then all of a sudden he won’t even mention her name!’
‘Don’t interfere, Nellie, let ’im sort it out himself,’ George said. ‘But if he carries on like this he’ll lose her, an’ then he’ll be sorry. He’ll not find a nicer girl than Jill if he lives to be a hundred.’
Steve lay on his back staring at the ceiling, his hands clasped behind his head. He’d never felt so miserable in his life. When he’d set off for his mate’s house it was with a determination to enjoy himself. His friend, Joe, had told him there would be plenty of girls there and he intended to get a click with one of them. But it hadn’t worked out that way. Oh, there were pretty girls there all right, and he could have had his pick, they’d hung around him like flies around a jam jar. And he had tried flirting with a couple of them, even kissed them, but they aroused no feeling in him, he just didn’t find them attractive. The trouble was, he found himself comparing them to a girl with long blonde hair, vivid blue eyes and a smile that could make his heart do somersaults.
Steve punched the pillow before turning on his side. ‘I’ve got to forget Jill Bennett, he told himself. She let me down once, she’ll not get the chance to do it again. And I’ll make sure no other girl gives me the run around. Once bitten, twice shy. From now on I’m going to play the field, look after number one. Love them and leave them, that’ll be my motto, and to hell with everyone.
Four doors away, Jill lay on her side, an arm tucked around her baby sister whose even breathing was the only sound in the room. Doreen hadn’t come to bed yet, and Jill was hoping she could drop off to sleep before her outspoken sister came up and started to ask questions. She’d gone over the events of the past week so many times her head was splitting. First she’d blamed herself, then Miles. But it was ridiculous to lay the blame at his door. After all she had a tongue in her head, all she’d had to do was say no.
As her eyelids became heavy with sleep, Jill finally admitted that it was nobody’s fault. The truth, which she hadn’t wanted to accept, was quite simple really . . . Steve just didn’t want her any more.
Sleep came over her in waves, and Jill’s last thought was that he should have had the guts and the good manners to tell her to her face. After courting for two years, she deserved that much.
Chapter Twe
nty-Three
Her legs swinging to and fro beneath the chair, Ruthie ran a finger over the dolly mixtures lined up on the table. ‘Eeny, meeny, miney, mo, this is the one that’s got to go!’ Her finger came to a stop on a pink, heart-shaped sweet and she tutted in disgust. This wasn’t what she wanted at all. It was the red jelly with sugar coating she had her eye on and that was two sweets away. Her tongue came out of the side of her mouth, as it always did when she was concentrating. Then she sat up straight, a smile on her face and a solution in her mind. Start at the other end, that was the answer. But once again she was thwarted as she came to the end of the ditty and her finger was still two sweets away from the elusive jelly for which her mouth was watering.
Molly glanced up from her ironing, saw the look of disgust on her daughter’s face and grinned. ‘That’s what yer get for eatin’ all the jellies first,’ she called through from the kitchen. ‘Yer shouldn’t be so greedy.’
Ruthie glared, her legs swinging faster. ‘I’ll mix them all up again, then it’ll come out right, you’ll see.’
There was a pounding on the front door and Molly put the flat iron down on the ring and turned the gas off. ‘This’ll be the rent man.’ As she hurried through the living room, picking up the rent book from the sideboard as she passed, she warned, ‘Don’t move from that chair, d’yer hear? If yer touch the iron it’ll burn the fingers off yer.’
Ruthie watched her mother disappear, a cunning look on her pixie-like face. She’d do it this time, now there was no one watching. ‘Eeny, meeny, miney, mo, stick the baby on the po, when it’s done, wipe its bum, eeny, meeny, miney, mo!’ Success! Her tongue came out to receive the jelly, and she hummed with pleasure as her heels banged against the bottom of the chair.
‘Good morning, Mr Henry!’ Molly passed the brown rent book over. ‘Did yer ’ave a nice Christmas?’
‘Yes, thanks.’ Mr Henry’s father owned most of the houses in the street and his son had been collecting the rent since Molly moved in. He took the pound note from inside the book and placed it carefully in the back compartment of the leather bag that hung from his shoulder. ‘Christmas Day was hectic with all the family around as usual, but yesterday was nice and quiet.’
‘Same here.’ Molly leaned against the door jamb and folded her arms. ‘Is it true that the Culshaws did a moonlight flit on Christmas Eve?’
Mr Henry finished marking the book, then, as he handed it back, gave a wry smile. ‘The house is as bare as Old Mother Hubbard’s cupboard. They’ve cleared everything out.’
‘Our Tommy told us there was a horse and cart outside on Christmas Eve, but I was so busy I didn’t pay much heed.’ Molly pulled at the lobe of her ear. ‘I’m sorry about that, they were a nice family. It must ’ave been serious to do a flit like that, without tellin’ anyone. They’ve lived here for as long as I can remember.’
‘Money problems.’ Mr Henry rifled through the coins in his bag to give Molly her change. ‘I think she owed a lot.’
‘Yeah, well, I can understand that. Her ’usband’s been out of work for years. But surely it wasn’t bad enough to do a bunk without even tellin’ her neighbours? I think that was a bit mean.’
‘Molly, she owed me three months’ rent, and from what I’ve heard this morning, she was up to her neck in debt to everyone. Coalman, milkman, corner shop . . . you name them, she owed them.’
‘Poor bugger!’ Molly felt sad. ‘She was a nice little thing, and the kids were always polite. I wasn’t that keen on him, though, he was a lazy so-and-so. Always moanin’ that he couldn’t get a job, but if yer ask me, he never even tried.’
‘Well, the way things are going everyone will have a job soon whether they like it or not.’ Mr Henry adjusted the strap on his shoulder. ‘The way I see it, there’ll be a war before the year’s out.’
Molly jumped to attention. ‘Oh, don’t you start, Mr Henry! It’s all my Jack talks about! The last thing he said before he went out this morning was, “You mark my words, Molly, as sure as eggs is eggs, there’s goin’ to be a war.”’
‘Well, I hope we’re both wrong, but I firmly believe Mr Chamberlain has had the wool pulled over his eyes. Hitler’s built up an army that can take on anyone, and I think he intends to take over the whole of Europe, us included. And unless we stop dithering and prepare for war, we’ll be caught with our pants down.’
‘It doesn’t bear thinkin’ about,’ she said. ‘Why the ’ell doesn’t someone bump that Hitler off?’
‘Let’s hope they do.’ Mr Henry looked at his watch. ‘It’s time for my morning cup of tea. Miss Clegg will wonder what’s keeping me.’
That brought a smile to Molly’s face. ‘Yer know, if I didn’t know better, I’d think there was somethin’ goin’ on between you two. Every Monday morning, without fail, yer pay her a visit. A cup of tea is yer excuse, but what goes on behind those closed doors is anyone’s guess.’
Mr Henry grinned as he turned to cross the street. ‘Molly, evil comes to he who evil thinks.’
‘Oh, aye!’ she called after him. ‘Well, I’m as evil as they come, but I can’t get a handsome man to come to my ’ouse for tea every week.’
Mr Henry knocked on Miss Clegg’s door before answering, ‘Keep trying, Molly, you never know your luck in a big city.’
‘Tell Victoria I’ll be over after, for a few tips.’ There was a smile on Molly’s face as she closed the door, but it faded as she made her way down the hall. All this talk of war was enough to give you the willies. Surely the last war was enough to make men think twice before starting another? Mind you, she thought as she struck a match to light the gas under the iron, by all accounts that Hitler wasn’t a man . . . he was a flaming lunatic!
‘You’re very quiet today, Jill.’ Miles filled his fountain pen from the bottle of Quink on his desk. ‘Was Christmas a disappointment to you, or are you worn out with all the parties?’
‘A bit of both, actually.’ She smiled. ‘It’ll take a few days to get back to normal.’
‘Tell me about your presents.’ Miles laid down his pen. ‘What did Steve buy you?’
Oh dear, Jill thought, what do I say to that? Pretend all is well, or tell the truth? Better to be honest, Miles was bound to find out sooner or later. ‘As a matter of fact, Steve and I are not friends any more.’
Miles crossed his arms and rested them on the desk, a look of concern on his face. ‘Oh dear, I am sorry to hear that. What brought this about?’
‘It was just one of those things.’ Jill wasn’t prepared to elaborate. ‘We had a disagreement, and that was that!’
‘You fell out over Christmas! I thought it was supposed to be the time of goodwill to all men? Jolly bad timing, don’t you think?’
‘If you’re going to have a disagreement with someone, timing hardly comes into it.’ Jill shuffled the papers on her desk. ‘If you don’t mind, Miles, I’d rather not talk about it right now. I’ve got some letters to get through before lunchtime.’
‘I’m so sorry, I have no right to pry into your private affairs. Just tell me to mind my own business.’
‘Oh, I didn’t mean it that way!’ she said. ‘I know you weren’t being nosy. But I do have to get these letters ready for your father to sign before he goes to lunch.’
‘Well, how about coming out with me for a spot of lunch?’ he asked. ‘Away from the office, we could talk to our heart’s content.’
‘Oh, I couldn’t do that!’ Jill’s heart pounded as she searched frantically for an excuse. ‘I’m, er, not dressed to go to a restaurant.’
‘Then we won’t go to a restaurant.’ Miles gave her a crooked grin. ‘Not a posh one, anyway. There’s the Bradford Hotel in Tithebarn Street, they do light lunches.’
‘Thank you for asking, Miles, but I don’t think it would be a good idea. What would the other girls think? Going out with the boss’s son, I’d be the talk of the office!’
‘Nonsense! We’re not beholden to them!’ Miles raised his brows. ‘Is that just an exc
use, Jill?’
She gazed down at her hands. Why shouldn’t she go out for lunch with him? He was nice, easy to talk to, what harm was there in it? After all, she was free now, no boyfriend, no ties. ‘As long as you don’t mind being seen with me in my scruffy coat, I’d like to have lunch with you.’
‘Oh, I say, jolly good!’ Miles grinned like a young boy who’d been offered a treat. Running a hand through his hair, he pushed his chair back. ‘I’ll go and tell Father. I usually have lunch with him and his colleagues, but it’s so boring. All they do is discuss the various cases they’re dealing with.’
Jill watched the door close behind him and wondered if she was doing the right thing. Not that she’d had much choice in the matter, she could hardly have refused point blank. Anyway, she didn’t have to justify her actions to anyone now, so why make a big issue out of it?
When they turned the corner of Castle Street they were met by the full force of the bitterly cold wind blowing in from the Mersey. Jill shivered, wrapping her coat more closely around her. With the wind whipping her hair, eyes watering from the cold and teeth chattering, she forced her long slim legs to move quicker to keep in step with Miles.
‘You’ll soon be warm,’ he said, his hand cupping her elbow as they crossed a busy main road. ‘A glass of sherry will do the trick.’
‘I’m not old enough to go in a pub,’ Jill reminded him. ‘I’m not seventeen yet.’
‘It’s an hotel, dear, not a pub.’
Jill glanced sideways, wondering whether to be ashamed of her ignorance or worried about the endearment. Then she decided she couldn’t care less about either.
‘Here we are.’ Miles held the door open and Jill could feel the warmth as she stepped inside. ‘Let me take your coat.’
Jill sat down and looked around with interest. The atmosphere was quiet but friendly. And it was lovely and warm.
‘A glass of sherry before we eat?’ Miles saw the doubt on her face and bent towards her. ‘Go on, be a daredevil.’
Jill laughed at his expression. ‘Oh, all right, but don’t blame me if I don’t get any work done this afternoon.’