by Carol Rivers
‘Can you do it again, please?’
She laughed and he reached out again and lifted the strands of her hair, trickling them through his fingers. Then sliding his thumb slowly over her chin and down to her neck, he pressed his lips on the soft skin of her breast.
She shivered in anticipation. ‘You’d better not do that again.’
‘I can’t believe you’re my wife.’
‘Even Mr Morton forgot to call me Mrs Brown and wrote “Marie Haskins”.’
‘Damn sauce! I’ll have words with him about that.’
Marie laughed. ‘That’s one person I don’t want you to upset.’
‘Do you really want to work at the factory? My wage is enough for us to live on.’
She smiled. ‘I’ll give up my job when something happens.’
A tremble seemed to go through him as he drew her very close. ‘I hope that something will be soon.’
‘It’s only been one night! And, well . . . today.’ She stopped, her face crimson.
‘Yes, and there’s twins in the family, don’t forget.’
Marie nodded sadly. She hadn’t forgotten.
‘Oh, me and my big mouth,’ Bing muttered, banging the heel of his hand again his head. ‘I didn’t mean to remind you of—’ He paused before he blurted Vesta’s name. ‘I was just thinking of babies.’
‘Doesn’t matter.’ She kissed his cheek softly. ‘Mum always said she thought there was a chance that one of us girls might have twins.’
‘Are you happy, sweetheart?’ Bing asked, bringing her out of her troubled thoughts.
‘Course I am.’
‘It won’t be long before you see Vesta again.’
Marie tipped up his chin and frowned. ‘What makes you say that?’
‘She’ll turn up if she’s missing you like you’re missing her.’
‘Yes, but is she?’
In answer, his hands drew her to him, and she found release from her doubts as he caressed and kissed her. Marie knew she would forget any sadness in their love-making and, for a time, her world would be perfect.
Chapter 36
The smell of baking came from the kitchen, where Ada was working, as Marie walked into the house in Sphinx Street. The aroma of mixed spices reminded her of the hot cross buns Ada baked every Easter, though if her family had been given a choice, it was Ada’s apple pie they preferred, with its rich golden pastry and thick custard. Although Ada worked, she had always found time to cook.
All the memories from childhood tumbled back as Marie heard the clatter of baking. Today the radio was turned up and the news was all about the next day, Monday, 6 May: King George V’s Silver Jubilee. The King and Queen Mary would be riding in a carriage to St Paul’s Cathedral for the Thanksgiving Service. Many people had been given the day off work. Already the nation was preparing, and Marie and Bing were looking forward to joining the party at Sphinx Street.
‘Mm, smells delicious!’ Marie poked her head round the kitchen door. There were scales on the table, very old ones, which had been with Ada through the years. And there was flour, sugar, butter, stewed apples and milk, with a little bowl full of currants.
Ada almost dropped the rolling pin. ‘Marie! What are you doing here? You’re a day early.’
‘I thought I’d just call in.’
Ada rushed over and hugged her, keeping her floury hands outstretched. ‘How is married life suiting you?’ She turned off the radio.
‘I’ve no complaints,’ Marie smiled mischievously. ‘Bing is painting the scullery, so I thought I’d escape for an hour. Do you need any help?’ She hung her bag on the peg.
‘Not in that lovely frock, I don’t. Pour yourself a cuppa. There’s one in the pot. You can fill my cup too.’
Marie did so, carrying the teas back to the table.
Ada glanced down at her pinafore, speckled with flour. ‘Just look at me! I would have changed if I’d known you was coming. Oh, you do look a treat. I haven’t seen that dress before.’
‘It’s from the same girl at work who sold me my wedding dress.’ Marie had bought several cheap summer frocks from her friend. This one had a pretty pale green collar and short sleeves, with a flared, darker green skirt and bodice.
‘Why is she selling her clothes?’
Marie pulled out a chair and watched Ada roll the pastry. ‘She’s having a baby.’
Ada frowned. ‘You might be in the same position yourself soon.’
‘Oh, Mum, we’ve only just got married.’
‘These things happen, love.’ Ada crooked an eyebrow. ‘Unless of course, you’ve other ideas?’
‘Such as?’
‘Young people these days find ways and means to avoid having children.’
‘Well, I’m not one of them.’ Marie had thought a lot about babies ever since that day she had watched the children playing in Sphinx Street. She knew she didn’t want a dirty and neglected little girl or boy, with a running nose, holed shoes and a grubby face. The streets were full of children looking like waifs and strays. She would keep their baby clean and take care of it and never let it be bullied.
Marie had already decided to use the box room, which was, at the moment, used as a store cupboard, as the nursery. Nurseries were unheard of on the island. There were too many kids in every household to ever think of such a thing. Often the parents had children of all ages sleeping in the same room as themselves. Bing had wisely made two rooms of one very big one. He and Charlie had nailed up a false wall and found a door at the scrap yard. This made two large bedrooms and a small room. One window had to be halved for two rooms, but Bing had done a good job of disguising the alteration. After which, Marie had put up some nice floral curtains in both rooms.
‘I’m glad to hear it as I’d like to be a granny. Now, tell me all about married life.’
Marie rested her elbows on a clean space and sunk her chin into her hands. ‘I go to work and come home every day. But now I do the cooking and housekeeping with a husband in mind.’ She grinned. ‘Bing is always up first at six and makes a cup of tea. He brings it in and we – well, drink it together.’ Marie blushed. The mornings were very rushed, but they liked to spend those few precious moments in each other’s arms.
Ada pressed the pastry edges into a pattern. ‘Your father used to do that.’
‘Yes, I remember. Me and Vesta would listen to Dad in the kitchen. It felt cosy, especially on dark mornings.’
Ada smiled wistfully. ‘Your dad would tell me all the exciting things he was going to do that day. Where he was going to sing or recite. Or he’d have some idea about going to a theatre and talking the manager into letting him perform. He was always certain the next big thing was just around the corner.’
Marie nodded. ‘Dad made us feel anything was possible.’ It was Hector’s stories about the theatre that had given them their dream.
‘That was your father’s charm.’ Ada suddenly sat down. ‘I loved him very much. It was only when . . .’ She looked at the dish she had just made and sighed. ‘Things change, I’m afraid.’
Marie leaned forward. ‘But you still love each other?’
Ada looked slowly into her eyes. ‘We’ve spent too many years together not to forgive and forget.’
Marie felt a chill run through her. What did Ada mean, when she said things like that?
Ada gave a little start as though coming back to reality. She stood up again and began to trim the pastry. She continued to ask Marie many questions about her new life at Manchester Road. It was as if she didn’t want to speak about the past with Hector. Marie wondered if there was a secret she kept hidden well out of reach.
At last the apple pie was in the oven. Ada took a crumpled piece of paper from her apron pocket. ‘All our neighbours are providing something for tomorrow’s celebration. Elsie went round with the list.’
Scones, angel cakes, fruit cakes and cherry cakes had all been crossed off. There was a line drawn under the cheap cuts of meat and loaves. Elsie was providing al
l these. The apple pies and custard were down to Ada.
‘On my way home from work yesterday,’ said Marie, wanting to contribute, ‘I bought pies and sausages. I thought we could cut them into small portions for the kids.’
‘Thank you, love.’ Ada smiled. ‘Seeing as you’re newly married, you needn’t have gone to the trouble.’
‘I want to do me bit.’ Marie was excited about the Silver Jubilee street party. Secretly she wanted Bing to see her being capable and organized. With all the women filling up the tables in the street, it would be quite chaotic. ‘Is there anything else I can do?’
Ada nodded. ‘I’ve made plenty of small cakes to go with the pies. They’re in the big tin over there. They just need icing.’
Marie got up and opened the big tin. A familiar confectionary smell wafted out. Once again, memories of her childhood returned. She began to mix the powder that Ada gave her in a bowl. As she spread the cakes with icing, she remembered how Vesta would always lick the spoon. Then, unable to resist, she would stick her finger in the bowl. Marie would follow, only to be caught by Ada. All three would end up laughing as they tried to hide their sticky fingers.
Marie felt a little girl again. Vesta was beside her and they were giggling. They never had straight faces for long.
Ada turned on the radio again. The broadcaster’s voice soon dispelled any nostalgia, explaining that tomorrow’s temperature would reach seventy-four degrees in the shade. Forty members of the Royal Family and four thousand leading citizens of Britain and the Empire were to be at the cathedral service. According to the news, the Jubilee was to be a momentous occasion. People were expected to sleep out in the street that night to reserve their places to catch sight of the Royals.
The forecast was that there were to be more crowds on the streets of London, including the East End, than at any time since Armistice Day in 1918.
‘You’d never believe on a day like this that just across the Channel, old Hitler is beginning to beat the drums of war again,’ reflected Elsie as she stood with Marie by the long, decorated tables, overflowing with food. She leaned forward and clipped the ear of a little boy who was stuffing cakes into his mouth without stopping. ‘That’s your lot for now, Sonny Jim,’ she scolded. ‘Give others a chance to enjoy the party.’
The little boy looked up at Elsie with a scowl. His grubby mouth, big rebellious eyes and dirty clothing made Marie’s heart soften. She didn’t recognize him. He was one of the many street urchins of the East End that were making the most of the free food and drink.
‘But there can’t be another war,’ protested Marie. ‘Our government wouldn’t allow it.’
‘Our bunch are toothless watchdogs,’ Elsie retorted, still with an eye on the little boy. ‘They choose to ignore Himmler, the bloke in charge of the concentration camps. My friends at the synagogue hear terrible things. To repeat them on a day like this would be a crime. But mark my words, the Nazis are only just beginning to show their true colours.’
‘Elsie, I haven’t heard you talk like this before.’
‘Well, this all may change in the coming months.’
Marie hadn’t taken much interest in politics. Bing sometimes came home with some news that was discussed amongst the dockers, but mostly they just wanted to be with each other, in their own little world, usually tucked up in bed with their arms around one another. Still, marriage was making Marie think about the nation’s future as a whole. The rumours of Germany’s rearmament was very worrying. But could this really mean another war?
‘I’m off to see my friend at Bethnal Green. Yesterday she received sad news. One of her cousins who lived in Germany fled with his family to Austria. They were caught at the border and taken away.’
‘But can’t someone do something?’ Marie asked.
Elsie looked up at her in surprise. ‘And who will help the Jews, my dear, against this madman?’
Marie felt another shiver of dismay.
‘I’m sorry, I should not have said this,’ Elsie told her, patting her arm. ‘But now I must go. Watch that little devil there. He’s eaten more in five minutes than you or I could put away in five days. Oh, and tell your mother I’ll see her later.’
Marie watched Elsie make her way through the crowds, a small but determined little figure, who had looked out for them for all the years she had been in their lives. Marie knew that she was beloved by one and all, from her many friends from the Cubby Hole years with Joe, to the Rabbi and his community in Bethnal Green. Yet she had always had time for Marie and Vesta as they grew up and she was their mother’s best friend.
Marie looked about her. Sphinx Street was packed full of celebrating people. Men, women and children were eating, singing and dancing. There were two upright pianos, one at either end of the street. The tunes were battling one another, but nobody cared. The kids were stuffing themselves at the tables. The men had hung bunting from every ledge they could find. Union Jacks and bunting flapped in the warm breeze. Every door was open, as was every window.
Just then, Marie saw Bing carrying a plate of sandwiches, flying it over the children’s heads to the table. He was wearing a Union Jack around his waist and a boater with red, white and blue ribbons. She smiled and waved as he glanced up. She was so proud to be his wife. To think that such sadness as Elsie had spoken of could be in the world on a day like today!
The little boy suddenly leaned over and was sick. All the other children let out screams. Marie bent down and gave him her handkerchief. ‘I think you had better stop eating now.’
He looked very pale. ‘Yes, missus.’
‘Go inside that house.’ She pointed to the open front door. ‘Ask my mum, Mrs Haskins, for a brush and pan to clear it up.’
‘Yes, missus.’ He went off holding his stomach.
‘Marie?’
The voice made her start. She looked round and could hardly believe her eyes. It was Vesta.
‘I don’t want anyone to see me.’
Marie glanced over at Bing, who was now surrounded by children as he sat at the piano, playing requests.
‘Why not?’
‘I’ve got something to tell you.’
‘What is it?’
Vesta looked around. She looked thin in a pale blue frock that was a bit crumpled. Her hair was cut short but it wasn’t permed in her usual fashionable style. Her eyes seemed sunken, with big, dark rings around them, and she fidgeted nervously with her bag. ‘Not here, Marie.’
Marie looked over at Bing again. ‘You could come home with me. But I’ll have to tell Bing, in case Mum asks.’
‘Please be quick. I’ll meet you round the corner.’
With that, Vesta disappeared. Marie hesitated. There was only one thing she could do. She wove her way across to Bing and managed to whisper in his ear. He stopped playing and frowned up at her.
‘Is she with Teddy?’
‘No. And she doesn’t look very well.’
‘Did she say why she didn’t come to the wedding?’
‘No, all she said was that she has something to tell me.’
Bing pushed his hand through his hair. ‘What do I tell your mum if she asks where you are?’
Marie thought of the little boy. ‘Tell them one of the children was sick over me and I’ve gone home to change me dress. Mum will believe that as I sent him in for a brush and pan.’
Bing nodded slowly. ‘I hope you know what you’re doing.’
‘She needs me, Bing.’
‘Yes, I thought you’d say that.’
Marie bent to whisper she loved him and he began playing again. Pushing her way back through the crowds, she hurried to find Vesta.
Chapter 37
Vesta’s eyes went very wide as she stepped into Marie’s new home. She stood staring at the large space and comfortable furniture that surrounded a square hearth complete with a modern art deco-print fire screen. The picture rail went all the way round the walls, which smelled of fresh paint. A glass light hung from the ceiling by thre
e chains and matched the pink-brown glazing of a lamp in the corner. A circular walnut cabinet with glazed doors stood to her left, with a cream dinner set arranged inside it, showing off its colourful red, orange and green flowers. On the triangular-shaped coffee table was a pretty ornament: a slim girl wearing a frock, who sat on a slab of marble, gracefully holding her floppy hat.
‘Where did you get that?’ Vesta asked as she walked over and touched the girl’s head.
‘It was our wedding present from Ivy and Johnny, along with a set of china.’ Marie nodded to the glass case.
‘I’m sorry I couldn’t come on the 26th.’
‘Why didn’t you? I wrote to the Blue Flamingo to ask you.’
‘Yes, I know.’
‘So you got my letter and Mum’s invitation?’ Marie felt angry. At least Vesta could have written back.
‘Can we sit down?’
‘Help yourself.’ Marie nodded to the couch.
Vesta sat on the edge. She was still fiddling with her bag. Her eyes were dull and lifeless. ‘Marie, I’m so unhappy.’ Her cheekbones stuck out and her skin looked pasty. Her fingers shook as she sat there, her thin shoulders and legs looking like sticks. ‘I know I’ve only got myself to blame,’ she continued. ‘You must think I’m rotten not coming to the wedding. And I wanted to so much. On the day, I thought about you and wondered what it would be like to wear that bridesmaid’s dress you told me about.’
‘I bought it in case you came. It’s still in the wardrobe.’
‘Did you?’ Vesta sighed. She looked distractedly around. ‘You’ve got a home of your own and husband now. Are you happy?’
‘Yes, very. But I wanted you at me wedding.’
‘I would have come, if I could.’
‘What does that mean?’
Vesta’s lips shook as she tried to speak. ‘I thought I’d found happiness with Teddy. I had stars in my eyes so bright that I didn’t see what was really happening. Teddy made me feel like a princess. He spoiled me, bought all my clothes and took me to nice places to buy them. He gave me presents. I’d only have to say I wanted a new coat or dress, or some jewellery, and he bought it for me.’