by June Francis
She left the room and hurried downstairs and out of the house and banged on Rene’s door. It was opened within minutes. ‘What is it?’ asked Rene.
‘It’s true! There’s a woman’s clothes flung around Gran’s bedroom and there’s blonde hairs in her hairbrush. Her and Dad must be sleeping in the double bed,’ said Greta in a trembling voice.
Rene said nothing and closed the door.
Greta was about to ask her to open up again when she realised that Rene was really upset and wanted to be alone. The girl went back into her own home and upstairs to her bedroom and pushed open the door. She froze. There was someone sleeping in her bed! Greta was so angry that she slammed the door. The humped up shape in the bed shifted. Greta opened the door and banged it shut again. This time an aggrieved sleepy voice, muttered, ‘I’m awake, Mum! I’m awake!’
‘I’m not your mother,’ said Greta loudly, moving to the bottom of the bed and gripping the footboard with both hands.
The bedcovers were pushed back and the flushed, chubby face of a girl showed above them. Greta gasped. ‘You’re not Joyce!’
‘No! I’m the ugly one. Winnie,’ said the girl sullenly.
‘I wouldn’t say you’re exactly ugly. Where’s my dad?’
‘Work!’ Winnie clutched the bedcovers, holding them high so they covered her shoulders. ‘You-You must be Greta! He said you wouldn’t be coming home just yet.’
‘He did, did he?’ snapped Greta, drumming her fingers on the wooden board. ‘Guilty conscience, I suppose! Get out of my bed, you lazy cow! D’you know what time it is?’
‘I work shifts. I didn’t get to bed until this morning.’
‘So my dad and your mother were all alone in this house sleeping together!’ snapped Greta.
‘No!’
Greta stared at her, taken aback. ‘Did you say no?’
‘Yes! He’s been sleeping next door,’ said Winnie.
Her words so amazed Greta that she sat down on the bed. Then she thought quickly. ‘How can you be so sure if you were out all night?’
‘Mum’s face! But not just that,’ she said hastily, hoisting herself up and bouncing back against the pillows. She was wearing a voluminous nightgown that served only to make her look even larger. ‘I overheard them talking. It was one in the eye for Mum when he said he was going to sleep there. You wouldn’t believe the way I laughed. She clouted me for it, mind, but it was worth it, just to see her not get her way for once.’
Greta’s interest in the girl was aroused and, now she knew that Harry and that woman weren’t sleeping together, she was able to relax. ‘Don’t you like your mother?’
‘She prefers our Joyce.’ Winnie sighed. ‘I do love Mum but she never appreciates all I do for her. It’s always been “our Joyce this, our Joyce that”. Our Joyce is a conceited, selfish cow. They think I’m a fat stupid lump.’
‘And what do you think?’
‘I think the same.’
‘Then you’ll always be that way. Where is Joyce?’
‘In the WAAF!’
Greta smiled. ‘Well, thank God for that! I was worried about the blonde bombshell being here.’
Winnie looked puzzled. ‘I didn’t know you’d met her.’
‘Well, I have,’ said Greta, kicking off her shoes and sprawling on the bed. ‘When Alex and I were searching for his mother.’
‘Who’s Alex?’
‘The fella I’d like to marry one day. But when he saw your sister, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. I reckon she could be a heartbreaker.’
Winnie nodded, wrapping arms, which were the sizes of hams, around her hunched up knees. ‘I know what you mean. I’m really glad she’s out the way.’
‘So does your sister know you and your mother are here?’ said Greta.
Winnie shrugged. ‘I won’t tell her but you can bet anything that Mum already has. She’s been here less than a week and she already thinks she’s dug in and your dad can be persuaded to let us stay.’
Greta frowned. ‘How? I don’t want your mum marrying my dad. I’ve got someone else in mind for him.’
Winnie smiled. ‘I’m sure he doesn’t want to marry Mum.’
Greta stared at her and said abruptly, ‘You want to smile more. It makes a difference. How do you know Dad doesn’t want to marry your Mum?’
‘Because I heard him say so,’ informed Winnie, continuing to smile.
Greta got up. ‘You can stay in my bed for now, seeing as how you’ve been on nights and you’ve given me news that’s made me happy I’m going out for a few minutes. I’ll see you later.’
Greta almost flew down the stairs and out of the front door but, when she knocked at Rene’s, there was no answer.
Rene was so upset by what Greta had said that she had to get out. She checked the larder and the meat safe and left by the back door, so she wouldn’t have to talk to the neighbours, setting off for Breck Road to do some shopping.
She went through the motions as if she was standing outside herself watching someone else perform the acts. It took her longer to get all she needed than she had reckoned on and by the time she emerged from Hughes the butcher’s shop, her feet were killing her. She waited to cross the road whilst a tram disgorged its passengers. The last person she expected to see was Harry with his arm in a sling and scratches on his face.
Her first instinct was to run away. He had slept with That woman! giving the neighbours plenty to talk about, and still she found it difficult to believe that he could do such a thing. Yet Greta had said it was true. Deep disappointment and anger surged through her and, before she realised her intent, she was calling his name and walking towards him.
‘Rene! You’re home!’ The pleasure in his eyes caught her off guard.
But she rallied swiftly. ‘Yes, I’m home. And what a homecoming! You really lay on the surprises, don’t you?’ Her voice shook. ‘A broken arm! Mrs Cox! You lied to me, Harry!’
Consternation showed in his face. ‘I suppose I can understand you feeling like that but what else could I do in the circumstances? I’m sorry if Edith and her daughter staying at our house has upset you but I’ll try and explain.’
‘You don’t have to explain anything to me, Harry,’ she said stiffly. ‘I’m not your keeper. Although, I’d never have believed it of you but, obviously, I don’t know you as well as I thought I did. Goodbye, Harry!’ She glanced both ways and was across the road before he could stop her. She heard him shout something but did not catch the words. Instead she was thinking that love was for fools! Perhaps her mother had been right on a few counts after all.
Maybe Vera had seen something in Harry that Rene had been blind to. Rene wanted to cry but told herself she didn’t need to be in love to be happy with someone. Look at the walks she’d had with Fred in Wales. She had enjoyed his company without love getting in the way. Perhaps she could find someone else with whom she could share such companionship. She would leave Liverpool! She was a free agent with no one to answer to. Wilf would manage without her. Yes, she would look for work elsewhere. She walked swiftly, hoping Harry would not catch up with her.
As Rene approached the house, she saw a woman standing at the foot of Harry’s step, smoking a cigarette. She was blonde with a lovely face but her skin was a little yellow and with tiny lines about her mouth and eyes. Of medium height, with an hourglass figure, Rene knew this must be Edith and hated her on the spot. She would have ignored her and swept into her own house if the woman had not put out a hand and said, ‘You must be Rene Miller! Harry’s daughter told me you were home.’
Rene was barely able to control her temper. ‘I presume you’re Mrs Cox?’
Edith held out a hand. ‘Please call me Edith! After all we’re neighbours.’
Rene looked down at it with disdain. ‘Maybe at the moment we are but it doesn’t mean that we will be tomorrow. Good afternoon!’ She walked up to her front door and drew out the key.
‘I didn’t expect you to be rude!’ called Edith. ‘Although,
I suppose you believe you’ve got cause.’
Rene dumped her shopping bags on the step and turned slowly. ‘I don’t know you. I don’t want to know you. Good day!’
Edith raised her pencilled eyebrows. ‘I see you’re a fool, too.’
Rene was furious and turned to tell Edith just what she thought of her when the other woman said, ‘Ah, here’s Harry!’
Harry ignored Edith and looked at Rene. ‘You’ll want me to move my things out right away, I suppose?’
‘Pardon!’
She was about to ask what he meant when Greta emerged from next door and flew down the step. ‘Dad! I’ve been watching for you.’ She planted a smacking kiss on his cheek. ‘You’re naughty deceiving us the way you did but you’re a sight for sore eyes and I forgive you. How’s the broken arm?’
‘A pain in the neck!’ he said, reluctantly giving her all his attention.
‘So when are you moving back home and Mrs Cox moving out?’
‘That’s not very friendly, Greta,’ said Edith, frowning.
‘But you and Dad can’t stay in the same house.’
‘Shut up, Greta!’ said Harry in a voice that boded ill if she said anymore. He turned to Rene. ‘Do I have your permission to pack my things? I thought you wouldn’t mind me staying at yours while you were away.’
Rene’s cheeks burned as she met his gaze. Her mouth felt dry and it was an effort to speak, aware that they were the focus of at least a dozen pair of eyes in the street. ‘Why didn’t you say?’ she whispered.
‘You didn’t give me a chance to explain. Edith and her daughter’s house was declared unsafe, so they came looking for me to help. They needed somewhere to stay and didn’t realise I’d broken my arm and was on my own. I didn’t tell you and Greta because I didn’t want you worrying and rushing back to Liverpool because the raids were really bad.’
Rene did not know what to say. Any thought of leaving Liverpool and never seeing him again, evaporated. How could she have thought the worst of him? If only Greta had not thought the worst and Mrs Cox wasn’t so attractive and Rene, herself, wasn’t such a large lump of a woman. If only she did not love him so much. A thought occurred to her, and although she didn’t really want to make such a suggestion, she cleared her throat and said, ‘Perhaps I can make amends. Maybe you and Mrs Cox can swop places. I have a spare room.’
‘Edith lodge with you!’ He stared at her as if unable to believe his ears.
Edith wafted cigarette smoke out of her vision and smiled. ‘I accept.’
‘What about Winnie?’ said Greta, surprised by the way things had turned out.
Edith rolled her eyes. ‘I doubt there’ll be room for her as well.’
Greta glanced at Harry. ‘Perhaps she can stay on with us while Gran’s still living in Wales. I’d enjoy having another girl of my own age in the house. What do you think?’
Harry nodded. ‘Whatever you say! Perhaps you can see to moving my things from Rene’s.’ Without another word he left the three of them standing there and went indoors.
The move was achieved with the minimum of fuss. Wilf and the two girls did most of the carrying back and forth between the two houses. Greta viewed Edith with suspicion, not only because of what Winnie had said about her but because Edith had been extremely sweet to Greta when she had arrived home from work and shopping and found her there, which must have been a shock.
Harry suggested that Greta use the front bedroom, whilst Winnie stayed in her smaller one. ‘If your gran decides to come home then the pair of you can share.’
‘That suits me but at the moment she seems happy in Wales.’
‘No unhappy memories there, that’s why,’ murmured Harry.
‘You mean memories of Mick, Mam and the kids,’ said Greta softly. ‘Is that the answer, Dad, to escape?’
He made no reply but asked if there was anything for tea. ‘Mrs Cox brought something in and Winnie said she’ll do the cooking tonight. We’ll take turn and turn about, depending on her shift. We’ll have to work out how we’re going to do the shopping and housework between us. I’ll need to look for another job because our place has gone up in smoke. I suppose I could go and ask at their other office but they mightn’t need me.’ Greta sighed. ‘It’s not going to be easy getting the shopping in and doing the housework with Gran gone and Winnie and I both working full time.’
‘Then stay at home, luv,’ said Harry. ‘We can cope without your wages.’
She did not fancy that idea and would much rather be earning money and having the company of the girls and women in the office. ‘I’m not so sure about that, Dad. I like having a bit of money of my own. I’m sure Winnie and I’ll be able to work it between us.’
‘You’ll wear yourself out. I’ll see you don’t go without money, luv,’ he said, patting her shoulder.
She had no choice but to agree. It was then she thought to ask how he’d broken his arm and how was he managing to work. So he told her about the accident and how his boss at the Corpy had given him a desk job, ordering supplies and seeing that they get to where they should. What he didn’t tell her was that it was not what he wanted, that he missed the sheer physical work and being with his mates. Nor did he tell her that he wished Edith was out of his life but at the moment there was no way he could see that happening. As for his feelings for Rene, and hers for him, he was confused. She was obviously angry and upset about Edith staying at his house but he could not understand why she cared so much if Jeff was the man in her life. Harry wished he could get away from everything for a while but, for the foreseeable future, it would not be possible.
17
Rene knocked on the parlour door and entered with a pile of clean washing balanced against her bosom. The autumn sun streamed into the room. Edith was sitting in an armchair in front of the bay window, cigarette in one hand, reading the Echo.
‘It says here that 1000 Morrison shelters are being delivered to Liverpool every week,’ she said, glancing up from the newspaper. ‘What do you think of that, Rene? It’s months since there were any air raids worth mentioning, Germany’s declared war on Russia and we’re getting air raid shelters! Harry says it’s obvious Hitler’s going to need the Luftwaffe over there, so what’s the point?’
‘Too little when needed, too much too late,’ murmured Rene, who still asked herself daily why she had been so daft as to offer Edith a home. She saw her as a Delilah, a Jezebel, a thorn in her side and a pain in her backside; the woman with It, who saw more of Harry than she did because she had the excuse of needing to see her daughter, whenever she felt like nipping next door. ‘At least the Yanks are doing something now Roosevelt and Churchill have signed the Atlantic Charter. We need all the help we can get to beat the U-boats. I’m glad they’ve moved the Centre for Counter Measures to Liverpool. We’ve got a better chance of beating them, especially with Captain Johnny Walker at the centre of things. Did you know he was responsible for organising part of the Dunkirk evacuation?’
‘I know,’ murmured Edith, flicking over a page to the Births, Marriages, Deaths. ‘Greta thinks he’s the tops. Says she’s going to join the Wrens, if the war’s still on when she’s eighteen, and hopes to stick around Liverpool.’
‘What does Harry say about that?’ asked Rene, a tartness in her voice.
Edith lowered the Echo and said with a honeyed smile, ‘You hate me going next door, don’t you?’
Rene held on to her temper. ‘Why should I? As you’re forever telling me, you have to check up on Winnie and see she’s behaving herself. From what Greta’s said to me about your daughter she’s a model guest. Hands over her keep and is prepared to muck in.’
Edith raised her shoulders and then let them drop. ‘Is that my washing?’
‘You know it’s yours and it’s the last time I do it unless you give me an extra five bob.’ Rene dumped the clothes on a chair. ‘It’s a mystery to me how it finds its way into mine.’
Edith’s lovely eyes widened. ‘I’m sorry, Rene. I thoug
ht the washing was included in the rent I pay.’
‘Rubbish!’ Rene’s eyes glinted. ‘I’ve mentioned about your washing getting mixed up with mine dozens of times. You need to do your arithmetic and think again, Edith … and don’t pretend to me that you’re hard up. Munitions workers get well paid.’
‘It’s bloody dangerous work, too!’ snapped Edith, her rouged mouth twisting so that for a moment she looked ugly. ‘The cordite can make you sleepy. I know a woman who dozed off and lost a finger in the machinery.’
‘You don’t have to snap,’ said Rene, taken aback by the other woman’s reaction.
Edith swallowed and quickly gained control of herself and forced a smile. ‘No, I’m sorry. It’s just that I hate the job!’ She reached down the side of the chair for her handbag and took out her purse. She placed two half crowns on the arm of the chair. ‘That do you?’
‘Thanks!’ Rene picked up the money and walked out of the parlour, wondering if she had got Edith wrong. Yet since she had moved in, Rene had seen next to nothing of Harry and not much of Greta either. If only she knew what Edith really was up to with Harry she might feel better. Yet she could hardly ask the pair of them. If only she could get rid of Edith. Yet how could Rene tell her to go when there were thousands of people who had lost their homes on Merseyside, who were living in a couple of rooms in a stranger’s house? Rene had tried volunteering for the forces but had been told that unless she had special skills, such as nursing, then she was too old at thirty-seven and could have spit! So Rene was stuck with her for now, at least.
At that moment, the parlour door opened and Edith came out. ‘I’m just nipping next door to have a word with my daughter. See you later!’ She winked and twiddled her fingers in Rene’s direction and left the house.
Damn her! Rene dreaded Edith arriving back one evening and telling her that Harry had asked her to marry him. Rene knew then that she would have to move.
‘So what d’you think, Harry?’ Edith did a twirl. She was wearing a frock she had bought from a modiste’s on Breck Road before clothing had gone on ration in June. The dress was tangerine with black spots and had a skirt just on the knee and a pinched in waist and short sleeves.