by Joan Jonker
During the meal she became more talkative and outgoing. Her face was animated as she told him about the antics of her family and friends, and Miles thought she’d never looked so pretty. No, not pretty, he corrected himself, Jill was beautiful. He had refrained from asking about Steve in case she withdrew into her shell, but as the clock on the wall ticked away, and their lunch hour was nearly over, he knew he’d never have a better chance to ask the question he needed an answer to. He’d always been attracted to Jill, but with Steve around he knew he’d never be in the running. Now he wanted to be sure the coast was clear for him to make his play.
‘That was most enjoyable.’ Miles pressed the table napkin to his lips. ‘Mind you, the company had a lot to do with it.’
‘Thank you.’ Jill smiled. ‘The meal was lovely.’
‘Now, while there are no distractions, can I ask what happened between you and Steve?’
Caught unaware by the question, Jill blushed. ‘I told you, we’ve fallen out.’
‘I hope I wasn’t in any way responsible? It didn’t have anything to do with the Adelphi, did it?’
‘Yes,’ Jill answered truthfully, ‘it had a lot to do with it. Steve didn’t want me to go, and I thought he was being childish.’ She lowered her eyes. Why did it still hurt so much to talk about Steve? ‘Anyway, it’s over and done with, so can we change the subject, please?’
Miles put his hand to his heart. ‘I promise not to mention it again. Now, I’ll get our coats.’ He walked to the cloakroom with a smile on his face and a spring in his step.
‘You’re late tonight.’ Molly stepped aside to let Ellen pass. ‘I thought yer’d gone straight home.’
Ellen had taken to calling in to Molly’s every night on her way home from work, just for a five-minute chat. ‘There was a lot of extra work to do tonight. What with Christmas Eve bein’ mad busy, we didn’t get a chance to clean up properly.’
Molly glanced at the clock before sitting down. ‘Jack must be working overtime. Not that I’m complainin’, mind, ’cos the money comes in handy. I’m in debt up to me eyeballs, buyin’ presents I really couldn’t afford. Still, it only comes once a year, thank God!’
‘My kids ’ad the best Christmas they’ve ever had,’ Ellen said. ‘Thanks to Corker, he’s been marvellous.’
‘Gone away now, hasn’t he?’ Molly couldn’t figure out the relationship between Ellen and Corker. It was a mystery to her.
‘Only for two weeks. He’s doin’ short trips now, just to Holland and Belgium, places like that.’
‘Ay, did yer hear about the Culshaws doin’ a flit?’ Molly shook her head, she still couldn’t believe it. ‘I wonder where they’ve gone? Poor buggers, I believe they owed everyone. I just hope they’re not livin’ rough, no one deserves that.’
‘Molly, there but for the grace of God go I,’ Ellen said. ‘Only in my case it wasn’t God who saved me from bein’ thrown on the streets, it was you an’ Nellie.’
Jill came in from the kitchen where she’d been rinsing through a few of her undies. Her face looked troubled. ‘The children won’t be walking the streets, will they? Surely someone has to find them a place to live.’
Knowing how much Jill worried, Molly made light of it. ‘Of course they won’t be walkin’ the streets, yer silly nit! They’ll ’ave had a house ready to move in to.’
Jill gave a sigh of relief. ‘I’m going up to clear my drawers out, see if anything wants washing.’
‘No developments between her and Steve?’ Ellen asked, when Jill was out of earshot.
‘Not a dickie bird! I’m disappointed in Steve, thought he had more sense than he’s showin’ now. An’ if he’s not careful he’ll miss the boat, ’cos she went out with her boss today, for lunch.’
‘Go way!’ Ellen looked suitably impressed. ‘Fancy that now!’
‘I don’t blame ’er,’ Molly said, ‘no point in hangin’ around till Steve gets over his sulks.’ But Molly didn’t really mean what she said. She still thought the world of Steve and was saddened by the whole sorry mess. He and Jill were made for each other, and the sooner they made it up the better. ‘Anyway, Ellen, any news of Nobby?’
She shook her head. ‘I haven’t been to see ’im for weeks. I can’t afford the fare, Molly, it takes me all me time to manage as it is.’
Molly studied her neighbour’s face. ‘Yer look worn out, Ellen. It’s too much for yer, doin’ two jobs.’
Ellen leaned forward and touched Molly on the knee. ‘I’ve got some good news for yer, and that makes a change, doesn’t it?’
Molly sat up straight, her eyes eager. ‘Blimey, Ellen, I couldn’t half do with some good news! What is it?’
‘Tony’s offered me a full-time job.’ Ellen’s thin face shone with a beaming smile. ‘I’m givin’ me notice in at the Maypole tomorrow.’
Molly fell back in her chair. ‘Well, that is good news! Oh, Ellen, love, I’m so happy for yer.’
‘It’s an extra pound a week in me purse, Molly, and that pound will make all the difference. We still won’t be well off, of course, but I won’t be skint on a Saturday after I’ve paid me ways, like I am now. And for the first time in their lives, I can give me kids a penny pocket money.’ She clapped her hands together. ‘Tony’s been ever so kind to me. I don’t need to start in the mornings till a quarter past nine, so I can give the kids their breakfast and get them off to school.’
‘D’yer know, Ellen, it’s been a miserable bloody day for me, what with worryin’ about the Culshaws and everyone savin’ there’s goin’ to be a flippin’ war. But you’ve bucked me up no end, yer really have. I’m so pleased for yer, I feel like doin’ a little jig.’
They heard the front door open and Doreen came in, dragging Ruthie by one hand and holding the wooden hoop in the other. ‘This one was playin’ on the main road, Mam!’
‘What!’ Molly jumped to her feet, sending the chair crashing against the table. ‘You little faggot, you! How many times ’ave yer been told not to go out of the street?’ Molly took the hoop from Doreen and dropped it behind the sideboard. ‘Right, that stays there until yer learn to do as yer told. Just you wait till yer dad gets home.’
‘Ah, ray, Mam, don’t tell me dad.’ Ruthie began to jump up and down, and it was then Molly noticed the tell-tale signs on her daughter’s socks.
‘Yer’ve wet yer knickers! Five years of age, an’ yer’ve wet yer knickers!’ She rolled up her sleeves. ‘Right, that does it! In the kitchen for a wash, then it’s bed for you, me lady.’
Ellen stood up, trying to keep her face straight. ‘I’ll make meself scarce, Molly.’
‘Okay, Ellen, I’ll see yer.’ Molly winked broadly as her neighbour passed. Then, as she looked down, she was just in time to see Ruthie kick Doreen’s leg. ‘It’s all your fault, our Doreen, you’re a clat-tale-tit, that’s what you are.’
Doreen’s hand came up to swipe her sister, but Molly caught it in mid-air. ‘That’s enough! If there’s any smackin’ to be done, I’ll do it.’
Doreen glared at her sister. ‘It’s a damn’ good hidin’ she wants.’
‘Ay, ay, less of the language, if yer don’t mind, madam!’ Even as Molly spoke, she thought, I’m a fine one to talk about language when mine would put the devil to shame. ‘Your dinner’s in the oven. See to it yerself while I get this one sorted out.’ Taking Ruthie by the ear, Molly dragged her through to the kitchen, ignoring the screams which were more from anger than pain. ‘Now, where’s that scrubbing brush?’
Molly was a good story teller and she fitted her actions to her words. She had gone over the events of the day and now had Jack chuckling as she described the look of horror on Ruthie’s face when the scrubbing brush was produced. ‘She really thought I meant it!’
‘Yer should ’ave used it on her, she’s a . . . a . . .’ Doreen tried to find words that would convey her feelings without provoking a telling off for using bad language. ‘She’s a hard-faced little brat.’ She lifted her leg. ‘Look at the br
uise where she kicked me.’
Molly rolled her eyes to the ceiling. ‘Would yer like me to remind yer of some of the things you used to get up to at her age? Compared to you, she’s an angel.’
‘How come I always end up gettin’ the dirty end of the stick?’ Doreen demanded. ‘What about our Jill?’
Jill lifted her hands. ‘Leave me out of it, I haven’t opened me mouth yet.’
‘Can we stop this bickering, please?’ Jack intervened. ‘I know I was laughing before, and the way you tell it, love, it was funny. But our Ruthie playing on the main road isn’t something to laugh about. If her hoop ran in front of a tram or bus, she’d run after it without thinkin’, and she could be killed.’
‘Oh, I think she’s learned her lesson,’ Molly said. ‘I told her a little white lie, said if she promised not to do it again, I wouldn’t tell you. So don’t let on yer know, and you two keep yer traps shut.’
Doreen wasn’t about to argue because she had something to ask and didn’t want her parents in a bad mood. She waited till her dad had settled in his chair with his cigarette lit and the Echo opened on his knee, and her mam was busy darning one of his socks.
‘Mam, have yer ever heard of Connie Millington’s dancing school in Merton Road?’
Molly pulled the thread through before looking up. ‘No, why?’
‘Me an’ Maureen were thinkin’ of going there, you know, to learn how to dance properly.’
‘What sort of a place is it?’ Molly asked. ‘It’s not a dive, is it?’
‘No, of course not!’ Doreen was heartened that there hadn’t been a blank refusal. ‘Some of the girls in work go, an’ they said it’s a big house and Connie Millington teaches all the dances . . . quickstep, slow foxtrot, rhumba, tango . . . everything! And it’s only sixpence to get in.’
‘I’ll think about it.’ Molly lowered her head, then raised it to look across at Jill. ‘Wouldn’t you like to go?’
Jill pulled a face. ‘No, I don’t think so. I’ve got two left feet, I’ll never make a dancer.’
Doreen pulled on her bottom lip. If she could persuade her sister to go, there’d be no opposition from her parents. ‘Anyone can learn to dance if they’re taught properly. Come on, our kid, give it a try. Even if yer only go the once, just to see.’
Their eyes met and Jill could see the path Doreen’s thoughts were taking. The last thing she wanted was to go to a dancing school, but would Doreen be allowed to go without her? ‘What d’you think, Mam?’
‘It’s up to you, sunshine! Nothin’ ventured, nothin’ gained.’ Molly smiled. ‘Who knows? Yer might turn out to be another Ginger Rogers!’
‘Some hope! This Connie Millington would have to be good to make a dancer out of me.’
‘Suit yerself.’ Molly knew Jack was listening and wondered whether, as man of the house, he should be consulted. But she knew he’d soon butt in if he didn’t agree. ‘If you go, then Doreen can. Otherwise she’s not on. I’m not havin’ a girl of fifteen walking home on her own in the dark.’ She saw Jack’s nod of approval. ‘There’s some queer folk walkin’ the streets late at night.’
Doreen kicked Jill under the table. ‘Come on, our kid, say yer’ll come with us.’
‘I don’t have much choice, do I? But don’t expect me to be as eager to learn as you. If I want to sit like a wallflower, then let me.’
With her looks, unless all the blokes are blind, there’s not much chance of her being allowed to sit like a wallflower, thought Doreen, but she kept her thoughts to herself. Now she’d got what she wanted, she had no intention of rocking the boat. And she certainly wasn’t going to tell her parents that Mike and Sammy would be there. ‘How about tomorrow night, kid?’
Jill’s mouth gaped in surprise. ‘Tomorrow! I didn’t know you intended to go so soon! I thought you meant sometime in the future.’
Molly spoke before Doreen had time to open her mouth. ‘Not goin’ anywhere tomorrow night, are yer, sunshine? Then get out an’ enjoy yerself. Yer don’t want to be sittin’ in every night with two old crocks like me an’ yer dad.’
Molly was telling her daughter not to hang around waiting for Steve. If he wanted her he’d soon come running when he knew she was going out enjoying herself. ‘Yer’ve got plenty of nice clothes to wear, so there’s no excuse.’ She started to rumble with laughter. ‘After two lessons, I expect yez to be able to teach me and yer dad how to trip the light fantastic.’
Jack scratched his chin. ‘Now that conjures up a vision to delight the eye, I’m sure.’
Chapter Twenty-Four
‘You two go on your own.’ Jill hung back when they reached the large Victorian house which had a board outside advertising the Constance Millington Dancing Academy. Shy by nature, the thought of walking into a room full of strangers was giving her the jitters. ‘I’m not fussy about learning to dance anyway!’
Doreen gave Maureen a look and they each cupped an elbow of Jill’s and hurried her up the path. ‘Yer not backin’ out now!’ Honestly, Doreen thought, our Jill’s so shy she can be a right pain in the neck sometimes. ‘If yer don’t want to dance, just sit an’ watch.’ She put a hand in the small of her sister’s back and pushed her through the front door.
The room they entered was large, two knocked into one. It had a wooden floor with chairs placed around the sides. As Jill looked around with interest her eyes alighted on Mike and Sammy, sitting opposite the door. She turned to Doreen, her voice angry. ‘You sly thing! Why didn’t you tell me your friends were coming?’
‘What difference does it make?’ Doreen shrugged her shoulders. ‘It’s a free world, isn’t it?’
‘Let’s sit down,’ Maureen said, ‘I feel like one of Lewis’s dress dummies standin’ here.’
‘I’m sitting down, and staying put.’ Jill walked to the far end of the room. ‘I’m annoyed with you, our Doreen.’
But Connie Millington wasn’t allowing anyone to stay put. She took the first timers to one end of the room, leaving the experienced dancers with her partner. ‘I’ll take you through the basic steps of the waltz, ladies first, then the gents.’ She walked to the opposite side of the dance floor and turned her back on them. ‘Now, watch my feet. Starting with the left foot. One, two, three, one, two, three.’
Doreen nudged Maureen. ‘It looks easy, doesn’t it?’
Before Maureen had time to reply, Connie was telling them to stand up. ‘Now try it. Just watch my feet and do as I do. Left foot back, right foot back and to the side, then left foot over so your feet are together.’ She went through the routine several times until she was sure they had the hang of it. Then she told them to sit down and called the boys over. ‘It’s the same for you, except you’ll be leading so you start with the right foot.’
When Jill saw the blushes and the antics of some of the boys she began to feel better. At least she wasn’t the only one with two left feet. And it was easy, really, even their Ruthie could have done it.
But it was a different story when Connie put a record on and told them to take their partners. The one, two, three was easy when you were doing it alone, but trying to fit your steps in with a partner was a very different kettle of fish. And the gangling youth who had made a bee-line for Jill had huge feet that kept getting in her way. He was blushing furiously as he apologised each time he stepped on her feet. She was glad when the record finished.
‘Take a break,’ Connie said, ‘then we’ll try again. Those are the three main steps of a waltz. When you’ve mastered them the rest will come easy. But some of you are as stiff as boards, you’ll have to learn to loosen up.’
‘Ay, it’s the gear, isn’t it?’ Doreen had been up with Mike and she was well pleased with their performance. ‘Easy, peasy.’
Maureen agreed that she and Sammy hadn’t done badly either. But Jill was busy rubbing her feet. ‘I’ll be black and blue tomorrow! That bloke spent more time on me feet than he did on the floor.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘His breath smelled terrible, too. If I see him
coming towards me again, I’m going to do a bunk.’
But when the record started another boy claimed Jill and he was much lighter on his feet. She found their steps matched perfectly, and although both were stiff and unsure, she felt she was holding her own.
Connie watched the couples with an eagle eye, telling one boy to lift his feet up, another to relax. ‘Listen to the beat . . . one, two, three . . . now move your feet in time to it.’
The three steps took them all in a straight line to the end of the dance floor where they all bumped into each other, giggling with embarrassment and wondering how to turn around and dance back the way they’d come. In the end, flat-footed and clumsy, the boys pulled their partners around, muttering under their breath, ‘One-two-three, one-two-three.’
When the music came to an end, Connie told them to sit down and watch while she and her partner went through all the steps of a waltz which they would be learning during future lessons. Once they’d mastered the waltz, she said, they’d go on to the other dances.
Jill thought she had never seen anything so beautiful as Connie and her partner swept across the floor, their slim bodies in perfect harmony, rising and falling to the music. Poised swaying on their toes, spinning on their heels, floating effortlessly across the floor, it was sheer magic to watch. Jill remembered someone using the expression ‘poetry in motion’ and it fitted the dancing couple better than anything else she could think of.
‘I’m goin’ to learn to dance like that,’ Doreen said with confidence. ‘Then I’m goin’ to proper dances, like the Rialto and the Grafton.’
‘Yeah, me too!’ Maureen wasn’t going to be left out. ‘An’ see her dancing shoes? Well, I’m goin’ to get a pair like that, with high heels.’
‘Take your partners now,’ Connie said, ‘and we’ll go through the basic steps again. Then we’ll show you one or two of the easy spins. Don’t worry if you can’t get it right, you can’t expect miracles from one lesson. You can practise at home, using a chair as a partner.’