by Joan Jonker
‘I’ve only just got in,’ Doreen said, unwinding the woolly scarf from her neck. ‘It’s a wonder yer didn’t see me walkin’ up the street.’
‘Miles drove me home.’ Jill lowered her eyes as she pulled at the fingers of a glove. ‘He’s outside, Mam, waiting to hear how grandad is. Will it be all right to ask him in?’
Molly didn’t look too happy. ‘Can hardly refuse, can I?’
‘Of course you can ask ’im in,’ Jack said, noting Molly’s expression. ‘Can’t leave the lad out in the cold.’
Molly opened the sideboard cupboard to get out one of her best cups and saucers. Never rains but what it pours, she thought. I can do without visitors right now.
‘Sit down, son,’ Jack said with a welcoming smile. ‘Have a cup of tea to warm you up.’
‘I won’t sit down if you don’t mind, Mr Bennett.’ Miles stood just inside the door. ‘And thank you for offering, but I won’t have a cup of tea. Mother will have my meal ready and she doesn’t like me to be late.’ He shifted from one foot to the other. ‘How is your father, Mrs Bennett?’
Doreen leaned against the sideboard weighing Miles up while her mother answered his question. This was the first time she had seen him close up and her inspection was thorough. He doesn’t half dress nice, she thought, cost a few bob that overcoat. Nice dark grey suit, white shirt and light grey tie. Certainly no shortage of money there! Doreen narrowed her eyes. He was nice-looking all right, but his face lacked character. His lips were too thin and his chin weak.
Doreen smiled and nodded as Miles bade them all goodnight. No, she decided firmly, he’s not good enough for our Jill. Not a patch on Steve.
‘Not goin’ out tonight, Doreen?’ asked Molly. She’d pulled the couch round to face the fire, and was sitting back with her legs stretched out towards the warmth. ‘Not often we ’ave the pleasure of your company, so yer must be skint.’
‘Saving me money.’ Doreen gave a broad wink. ‘I’m goin’ straight into town on Saturday with Maureen, to buy some material. We’re makin’ ourselves long dance dresses.’
‘Ooh, are yez now! The state of you!’ Molly slipped her shoes off and sat wiggling her toes. ‘And where, pray, are yer goin’ to wear these dresses?’
‘Don’t know yet! We want to go to Millington’s a few more times to learn to dance proper, then we might try the Grafton, or even the Tower Ballroom in New Brighton.’
Jill had been sewing a ladder in her stockings, now she lifted her head. ‘They do wear long dresses at the Tower, I’ve seen them going in.’
‘Oh, when was that, sunshine?’ Molly asked.
‘It was a while ago, when I was going out with Steve.’ She went back to her sewing, wishing she’d thought before opening her mouth.
Molly and Doreen exchanged glances. Molly shook her head in warning and changed the subject. ‘What sort of material are yer gettin’ for this posh dress of yours?’
‘Have to wait an’ see what they’ve got. We need four yards, so we won’t be able to afford dear stuff.’ Doreen addressed Jill’s bowed head. ‘What colour d’yer think I’d suit, Jill?’
‘You can have my long dress if you want, I don’t suppose I’ll ever wear it again.’
‘No, I want to make me own.’ Doreen gave her mother a sly wink. ‘Besides, what’s to stop you comin’ with us an’ wearing yer dress? Yer don’t half look nice in it, an’ it’s a shame to leave it hangin’ in the wardrobe doin’ nothing. The moths will get at it if yer not careful.’
‘We’ll see.’ Jill broke the cotton off with her teeth then surveyed her handiwork. ‘It’s a good job the ladder was at the top, at least it won’t be seen.’
‘D’yer feel like a walk, our kid?’ Doreen asked casually. ‘Just round the block.’
Molly was about to ask if she’d gone crazy, wanting to walk out on a freezing cold night. But there was something about Doreen’s face that stopped her. That little madam is up to something, she thought. There’s method in her madness. Whatever it is, though, she’ll never get our Jill out in this weather.
Jill looked up. ‘Is this a joke?’
Doreen shook her head. ‘Just down to the main road, look in a few shop windows, then back. It’ll break the monotony and blow the cobwebs away.’
Much to Molly’s surprise, Jill nodded, and a few minutes later the sisters were walking down the street, arm in arm. ‘D’yer like this Miles?’ Doreen asked. ‘Is he yer boyfriend?’
Jill laughed. ‘No, don’t be daft! I’ve only been out with him a few times.’
‘But d’yer like him?’
‘I like him, yes, he’s a nice bloke.’
Doreen was thoughtful for a while. ‘Has he ever kissed yer?’
‘No, of course not!’
‘Never?’
‘No!’
‘I don’t believe that! He seems dead keen on yer! Are yer tryin’ to tell me he’s never even tried?’
‘If it makes you happy, then he did try once. It was the night we went to the Adelphi.’ Jill started to giggle. ‘We were standing outside our house, and when I saw his face coming towards me I twisted me head. His kiss landed somewhere in the region of me ear. He’s never tried since.’
So that’s what happened, Doreen thought. A silly, stupid trick pulled by our ‘nice’ Mr Miles, and look at the trouble it’s caused. He’s nice all right, and I don’t think! He knew Jill was courting, it was a lousy trick to try and pinch her off Steve.
Doreen found herself getting mad because there was nothing she could do about it. Hadn’t Steve sworn her to silence?
Jack came home while the girls were out. He made straight for the fire and spread his hands in front of the flames. ‘Sister said there’s a slight improvement in Da’s condition. But she said not to build our hopes up, though, ’cos he’s still very poorly. The next few days are critical.’
Molly closed her eyes. ‘That’s somethin’ though, thank God. Did they let yer in to see ’im?’
‘Just for a minute. He sends his love to you and the kids.’ Jack cocked an ear. ‘It’s very quiet, where is everyone?’
‘The little one’s in bed, Tommy’s up in Ginger’s, and the two girls have just gone for a walk.’ Molly smoothed the front of her dress. ‘Don’t bite me head off, but I’ve got to ask. An’ I want the truth, Jack Bennett, no messing, d’yer hear? I want to know what yer really feel about this Miles feller?’
Jack rubbed the side of his nose, torn between loyalty to his daughter and his true feelings. ‘I’m not very keen, but then I’m not the one goin’ out with him.’
‘Not keen? I think he’s a flamin’ snob! He’s been here about six times an’ ’as never sat down, not once mind yer, an’ he won’t even ’ave a cup of tea! He seems gone on our Jill, but he doesn’t want to know us, that’s for sure. We’re not good enough for ’im, I suppose. I was that flamin’ mad tonight, I felt like standin’ in front of him, tugging me forelock, doin’ a curtsy, then lifting me two fingers up to him.’
‘Molly, yer can be very vulgar at times.’ But Jack was shaking inside with laughter. He knew exactly how she felt because it was hard going trying to hold a conversation with Miles. It was obvious he didn’t want to be in the house, and the excuse that he was interested in Bob, well, that just wouldn’t hold water. The top and bottom of it was he had his eyes set on Jill and was trying to worm his way into her good books. ‘Let’s hope it blows over. She’s not soft, she knows what she’s doing.’
He waited till the girls and Tommy were in, then said he was off to bed. ‘I need me beauty sleep.’
‘I won’t be far behind yer, love. I just want to put some things on the maiden and put it in front of the fire.’
Jill and Tommy said they were tired, too, and followed their father up the stairs, leaving Doreen alone with her mother. ‘It’s time you were in bed, sunshine.’
‘Yeah, I’m goin’ now.’ Doreen picked up her bag, got halfway across the room and stopped. She was in a quandary. Should she tell her m
other or not? She’d promised not to tell a soul, but if there was any way of getting Jill and Steve back together, surely it was worth breaking a promise for. She needed someone to tell her what to do, and who better than her mother?
‘Mam, if I tell yer something, will yer promise not to breathe a word to anyone? It was told to me in confidence, so by rights I shouldn’t be tellin’ yer. But I want to ask yer advice.’
Molly opened the maiden up and set it near the fire. ‘If it’s a secret, sunshine, then perhaps yer’d better keep it to yerself. Yer know I’ve got a mouth as big as the Mersey Tunnel. Never did ’ave the brains to think before I open me gob.’
‘Keep it to meself, even if it’s about our Jill an’ Steve?’
‘Now yer’ve put me on the spot, haven’t yer?’ Molly sat on the arm of the couch, chewing on her bottom lip. ‘Okay, I promise.’
Doreen told her word for word what Steve had said, and how she’d got it out of him. Then came Jill’s version of what really happened.
‘My God, yer a crafty little faggot!’ But there was admiration in Molly’s voice. ‘Talk about Sherlock Holmes, you’d ’ave solved the case before he’d lit his flamin’ pipe!’
‘What shall I do, Mam?’
‘Ooh, I don’t know, sunshine.’ Then Molly tutted, shaking her head. ‘How bloody stupid can yer get? Why the hell didn’t Steve open ’is mouth, tell Jill to her face? That way, he’d ’ave found out the truth.’
Molly was silent for a while, then she let out a long sigh as she stood up. ‘Let’s leave it for a few days, see how Grandad gets on. I’m not thinkin’ straight right now, but when me mind’s more at rest, I’ll put me thinkin’ cap on an’ see what we can come up with.’
‘Yer won’t give me away, will yer, Mam?’ Doreen was anxious. ‘It’s all that Miles’ fault, yer can’t blame Steve. I like him, an’ I don’t want ’im thinking I go round telling tales.’
‘My lips are sealed, sunshine, so don’t be worryin’. But let’s get to bed now, I’m nearly asleep on me feet.’ Molly put her arm around Doreen’s waist and squeezed. ‘Yer did well, love, an’ who knows? Yer little bit of detective work might just change the course of history.’
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Jill glanced down at her watch. Half past nine and Miles hadn’t turned in yet. This was unusual because his father was strict when it came to his son being treated like any other member of staff. Perhaps he’s caught the flu? she thought. There’s certainly plenty of it around. Nearly everyone in the office is coughing and sneezing. She read through the last paragraph of the letter she was typing, turned the page of her note-pad to check the dictation, then her fingers started to fly over the keys of the typewriter. Poor beggar’s probably tucked up in bed with a hot water bottle. Still, rather him than me!
But the Miles who walked into the office at eleven o’clock looked far from ill. In fact he looked extremely fit and very pleased with himself. After dropping his briefcase at the side of his desk, he pulled his chair out and grinned across at Jill. ‘Did you wonder where I’d got to?’
‘I imagined you in bed with a running nose and a hacking cough.’ She returned his grin before adopting a stern voice. ‘I hope you have a good reason for being late, Mr Sedgewick! Explain yourself, please?’
He swivelled the chair from side to side. ‘Keep it under your hat, but I’ve been for an interview for a job.’
Jill’s brows rose in surprise. ‘You mean you’re leaving here?’
‘It’s not certain yet, but the interview went well.’ Miles tapped his fingers on the desk top. ‘It was Father’s idea. He seems pretty certain there’ll be a war, and if he’s right, I’d be one of the first to be called up. So he arranged an interview for me with the Ministry of Defence. If I’m accepted, it will mean I’m in a reserved occupation and will be exempt from call up.’
A frown crossed Jill’s face. That wasn’t fair, surely? Why should Miles be treated differently from anyone else? What about all the young men who didn’t have the protection of being in a reserved occupation? Didn’t have a father who could wangle a safe job for them?
Miles mistook her silence for sadness, that she’d miss him if he left. ‘The only drawback to the job is that I won’t be working with you. But the office is only around the corner, I’ll still be able to see you every day.’
Jill needed time to marshal her thoughts into some sort of order. She felt angry at the injustice, remembering the saying: It’s not what you know, but who you know. But to blurt out her initial reaction was only going to cause ill feeling, so she played safe. ‘I’ll have to get on with my work, Miles, can we talk about it another time?’
‘How about over lunch?’
‘Not today, thanks. I’ve promised our Doreen to look for a dress pattern for her and it may mean trying a few shops to get one I think she’ll like.’
Miles’ disappointment showed in his drooping mouth. ‘That means waiting until Monday, unless you’ll let me take you out one night. Will you, please?’
‘I’m sorry, but with worrying about Grandad, I’m not in the mood for going out.’
Miles swept his briefcase from the floor, his selfish streak rising to the fore. What difference would it make to the old man if Jill went to the pictures or a dinner dance? If he was going to die, he’d die no matter what. But he had the sense to keep his thoughts to himself. Their relationship was progressing nicely, no good would come from rocking the boat at this stage. ‘I understand, Jill,’ he lied, ‘we’ll leave it until Monday.’
That night, sitting around the dinner table, Jill asked, ‘Dad, what does a reserved occupation mean?’
Jack swallowed before answering. ‘Well, it means in time of war anyone working behind the scenes. Those whose jobs are important to the war effort are exempt from military service.’ He eyed his daughter. ‘Why?’
‘Miles went for an interview today, for a job with the Ministry of Defence. His father had arranged it.’ Jill could feel all eyes on her, but for once she didn’t try to defend Miles. ‘He said if he gets the job he won’t be called up.’
‘Oh, aye?’ Jack lowered his head to hide his feelings. Least said, soonest mended.
But Molly had no such inhibitions. ‘What!’ she bawled, her face red with anger. ‘Well, that’s not bloody fair! My God, money talks all right! Why should he be any different from all the other poor sods who ’ave no choice? I don’t think it’s right, an’ I’ll tell ’im to his face if I ever see ’im!’
‘It was his father’s idea.’ Oh, lord, what have I done? Jill asked herself. If Miles shows his face here again, me mam will make a holy show of him. But I agree with her, it’s not fair.
Tommy spoke through a mouthful of potato. ‘He’s a coward, that’s what he is. A flippin’ cissy boy.’
‘That’s enough, son.’ Jack pointed his fork. ‘It’s a free country and everyone can do as they wish.’
‘That’s the whole bloody point, isn’t it?’ Molly raged. ‘It’s a free country because a lot of men lost their lives to make it free! Ooh, me blood’s boiling now.’
‘If there is a war, I’m goin’ to join up when I’m old enough.’ Tommy, too young to understand the horrors of war, could see himself dressed in a soldier’s uniform, with a gun at the ready. A hero, defending his country. The prospect filled him with excitement. ‘They won’t need to call me up.’
‘You keep yer trap shut an’ get on with yer dinner.’ Molly was beside herself with rage and Tommy’s remarks were like throwing oil on to the flames. Her son, not yet fifteen, talking about joining up, while the high and mighty Mr ruddy Miles was skulking off to make sure his own hide was safe. Where was the justice in that?
Jack could see the fast rise and fall of his wife’s chest and the patches of red on her cheeks. ‘That’s enough, love, there’s no need to get yerself in such a state. And anyway, aren’t you the one who’s always saying there isn’t goin’ to be a war?’
Molly was silent for a while, trying to contro
l her feelings. When she spoke her voice was calmer. ‘That’s not the point, is it? It’s the principle of the whole thing.’
Doreen had kept silent, chewing her food slowly. She’d been right in her summing up of Miles, he was weak. But she wasn’t going to add her twopennorth to the row that was upsetting her mam so much. It was time to change the subject. ‘How much do I owe yer for the pattern, Jill?’
‘You don’t owe me anything,’ she said, grateful for the timely interruption. ‘It was only sixpence, I’ll mug you to it.’
‘Ooh, thanks, kid.’ Doreen’s hair fanned her face as she leaned sideways to pick up the pattern from the arm of the chair. ‘I’m made up with it, it’s just what I’d ’ave chosen meself.’ She passed the packet to her mother. ‘Do you like it, Mam?’
Molly made a gallant effort. ‘It’s lovely, sunshine.’ She gazed at the sketch on the front of the packet. The dress was fitted to the waist, then fell in soft folds to the model’s ankles. It had a round scooped neck and short wide sleeves, gathered in at the elbow by two bows. ‘It looks a hard pattern though, d’yer think yer can manage it?’
‘’Course I can!’ Doreen bragged. ‘I’ve done harder than that in work.’
‘That’s what I like about you,’ Molly pulled a face, ‘yer so modest.’
‘If I don’t blow me own trumpet, no one else will.’ Doreen gave her father a conspiratorial wink as she began to collect the empty plates. ‘I take after me mam, don’t I, Dad?’
‘D’yer know, I’ve been racking me brains, wondering who yer reminded me of.’ The plate Jack handed over was so clean it looked as though it had just been washed. ‘Yer’ve solved that puzzle for me.’
‘Ho, ho, very funny.’ Molly gave him a playful clip over the ear. ‘I’m the comedian in this ’ouse, so just watch yerself.’
When Molly came home from the hospital on Saturday night it was with a smile on her face. ‘Da looks a lot better. He’s sittin’ up, his voice is stronger an’ he said he feels fine. Sister said they’re pleased with his progress and very hopeful. He’s not out of the woods yet, not by a long chalk, but things are lookin’ brighter.’