by Joan Jonker
When Betty frowned, her eyes became mere slits. ‘I can read tea-leaves, girl, and I’m not bad at reading cards or palms. But when it comes to reading people’s minds, I’ve got to admit I’ve never been able to master the art.’
Colin was perched on the arm of the couch next to John. ‘Ooh, it’s dead funny, Mrs Mason, just wait till me mam tells yer.’
‘I’m waiting, son, I’m waiting.’ Betty jerked her head and sent her chins flying. ‘Come on, Dot, I could do with a good laugh.’
Dot glanced at John who had come prepared to work in a pair of dark blue dungarees. ‘Yer should have come dressed up and I could have borrowed yer trilby again. It won’t be as funny without.’
‘Do yer best, girl,’ Betty said, ‘and I’ll use me imagination.’
‘I know, I’ve got an idea.’ Dot dashed out to the kitchen and came back with a large pan covering her head. She tapped the pan. ‘Trilby.’ Then she held out her arms and bent them at the elbows. ‘Carrying wallpaper and paint. Everybody got the picture?’
‘I’m with yer so far, girl, so carry on.’
A few minutes later the room was ringing with laughter. And when Dot put her hands on her tummy and doubled up, the pan fell from her head and the sound of mirth increased.
‘Oh Mam, that was funny.’ Katy wiped her eyes. ‘I wish I’d been there.’
Billy didn’t know who Judy and May were, but they’d be no different to any of the women in the neighbourhood who would be flabbergasted to have a man speak to them so politely. He himself had never heard of a bloke doffing his hat, or bidding anyone a very good evening. He could imagine the scene and thought it was hilarious.
The kitchen chair Betty was sitting on was taking a real hammering; it creaked in protest as her body shook with laughter. With her fingers rubbing at the dimples in her elbows, her laughter was the loudest. ‘Ooh, can yer imagine it, Dot? I bet Judy went home and belted her feller around the room ’cos he doesn’t doff his working cap to her.’ She grinned at John. ‘It would serve her right if he did, ’cos he’s a coalman and she’d get covered in coal dust.’
Dot bent to pick up the pan. ‘Right, that’s enough fun and jollification, let’s get some work done. All the furniture’s to be pushed into the middle of the room and I’ll cover it with an old sheet.’
John jumped to his feet. ‘Don’t you ladies be lifting anything heavy. Billy and I will sort it out if you’ll stand aside.’
My God, he can work, Dot was thinking five minutes later. The dining chairs were stacked in the hall, the fireside chair was in the kitchen, the couch and sideboard pulled to the middle of the room and the table upturned on top of them. She glanced at Betty and mouthed, ‘He can move, can’t he? I wonder what his job is?’
Betty, never backward in coming forward, had no intention of wondering while she had a tongue in her head. ‘Where did yer say yer worked, John?’
‘I didn’t say, Betty, but if it satisfies your curiosity I work in the cable works.’
As though they’d rehearsed it, Betty and Dot spoke in unison. ‘The cable works! Yer mean in Linacre Lane?’
John chuckled at the surprised expressions. ‘Doubting me again, Dorothy?’
Dot tossed her head. ‘I’d never have given it a thought if Betty hadn’t asked.’
‘That’s right, blame me, I don’t care.’ Betty hitched up her bosom. ‘What d’yer do there, John, if yer don’t mind me asking?’
‘I sweep the floors.’ John bit on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing. ‘And make the tea. A general dogsbody in other words.’
‘Take no notice of him, Betty, he’s having us on. And I’ve just thought of a good name for him . . . Joker John.’
‘I’ll get it out of him before the night’s over, don’t worry.’ Betty was wearing a short-sleeved dress but she pretended to roll up her sleeves. ‘He’ll not get out of this house until I know everything there is to know about him. Even to how many blankets he’s got on his ruddy bed.’
‘Ay, missus, yer came down here to work, not gossip. If yer want to know John’s history, ask him when he’s walking yer home, later.’ Dot went through to the kitchen and returned with the two scrapers John had brought with him. She handed one to Betty, saying, ‘If yer do yer job properly yer’ll be too tired by then to ask questions.’
‘Bloody slave-driver,’ her friend muttered. ‘Which wall would yer like me to start on?’
‘On the big one with me. Katy and Billy can do around the window while John washes the frieze on the other two walls and the part of the ceiling he can reach without drowning us in water. Then if we’re all ready at the same time, we can swap around.’
Katy looked at the scraper her mother handed to her. ‘How do I do it?’
‘I’ll show yer, I’ve helped me dad in our house,’ Billy said, feeling very manly. ‘Just don’t dig too hard or yer’ll take the plaster off the walls.’
‘Ah, ay, Mam, what can I do?’ Colin wailed. ‘I’m not standing here twiddling me thumbs while ye’re all working.’
‘I thought you were going to be my mate,’ John said. ‘I was hoping you’d hold the ladder for me and help me change the water when it gets dirty.’
Colin was in his applecart. ‘Oh yeah, I’ll do that, Mr Kershaw. I’ll hold the ladder real steady for yer.’
So with everyone assigned to their jobs, work started in earnest. The only sounds in the first half-hour were the scraping of walls, water being wrung out of a cloth, and a cry of delight when a strip of wallpaper came off in one piece. Then Betty thought enough was enough. There was no reason why you couldn’t talk and work at the same time. She gave Dot a nudge. ‘D’yer know what I feel like?’
All hands stopped work, grateful for the interruption and not wanting to miss what the big woman had to say. She came out with some belters when she was in the mood.
‘This is not the time for a guessing game, sunshine,’ Dot said, pushing a lock of hair out of her eyes, ‘so I’ll give in. What do yer feel like?’
‘I feel like a ruddy monk in a monastery what’s made a vow of silence.’
The laughter brought a smile to her face. ‘That’s better, cheer the place up a bit.’
Dot tried to put on a serious expression. ‘May God forgive yer, Betty Mason, for what yer’ve just said.’
‘Oh, He will, girl, He will. Take it from me, what’s a very good friend of His, that God’s got a smashing sense of humour. Well, I mean, it stands to reason, doesn’t it? When He looks down and sees some of the antics we get up to, He must laugh His ruddy socks off!’
‘I’ll tell yer one thing, Betty Mason, and after that it’s back to work. If you end up going to heaven, and I finish up in the fires below, I won’t half kick up a stink.’
Betty looked aghast. ‘What sort of a friend d’yer think I am? I wouldn’t leave you behind, girl. Where I go, you go too – otherwise we’re both staying put.’
After the brief humorous interlude, work started again in earnest. For exactly half an hour.
‘I didn’t half pull a fast one on my feller today, girl.’
‘Did yer, sunshine?’ Dot heard the silence and turned to find all eyes on her friend. ‘Yer do know that ye’re holding the job up, don’t yer? When you open yer mouth everyone downs blinkin’ tools.’
‘I can’t help it if they’re nosy, can I?’ Betty glared ferociously. ‘Get those oars goin’, the lot of yer, or I’ll start cracking the whip.’
‘Even a galley-slave is entitled to a breather, Betty.’ John was standing on the bottom rung of the ladder. ‘Come on, tell us all what trick you played on your long-suffering husband?’
‘Well, I did a bit of washing this morning and I put the pillow-cases in the sink with the intention of steeping them in bleach water for a while to bring them up nice and white. But when I got the bleach bottle out it was empty, so after saying a few choice words I stood it on the draining board. Then I got the idea of playing a trick on Alec.’
; A picture of her husband’s face flashed before her eyes. His jaw had dropped open and his eyes were wide with astonishment. She began to laugh silently and her huge tummy shook.
‘When he got in from work I had a towel wrapped around me head and he asked if I’d washed me hair. I told him I hadn’t washed it, I’d bleached it. Oh, yer should have seen his face. “What did yer want to go and do a thing like that for? Yer know I hate peroxide blondes,” he said. I said, “I know yer do, love, that’s why I didn’t use peroxide.” Then I walked to the kitchen and came back with the empty bleach bottle and handed it to him. “I used bleach instead.’”
Dot could see the funny side of it, then she thought about the shock Alec would have had if he’d thought his wife was serious. ‘That was a lousy trick, to play,’ she commented. ‘Yer could have given poor Alec a flamin’ heart attack.’
‘Ay, ye’re right there, girl, I really thought he was going to have one. He sat in the chair and his face was green. He said, “Yer’ve done it good and proper this time. When yer take that towel off, there won’t be a hair left on yer head. Yer’ll be as bald as a billiard ball. In fact, yer’ll be lucky if yer’ve got any scalp left because raw bleach will eat through anything.” He sat shaking his head, then he said, “Yer haven’t got the sense yer were born with, missus, d’yer know that?’”
‘He’s right – yer carry things too far, sometimes,’ Dot said severely. ‘And how long did yer leave him to worry himself to death?’
‘Oh, I didn’t leave him, girl, ’cos his face was as white as a sheet by this time and I got more of a fright than he did. So I whipped the towel off to prove I still had me head of beautiful, thick glossy hair, then I did a little twirl and bowed to him.’
‘And what did Alec have to say?’ John asked. ‘Did he see the joke?’
‘Well, it’s like this, yer see, John. My husband is a very mild-tempered man most of the time, but when he does get in a paddy then he really lets fly. I can’t tell yer what he called me, not in front of the children anyway. All I’ll say is, it wasn’t very flattering to me, or me mother, God rest her soul.’
‘No more than yer deserve,’ Dot told her. ‘Now, we’ve only got a tiny bit to do on this wall then we can change around and let John come over here. So will yer keep that hole in yer face closed, please? Let silence be yer punishment for what yer did to Alec.’
By ten o’clock all the walls had been stripped except for a few bits of paper by the picture rail where the women couldn’t reach. And Colin had been busy; he’d brushed the floor and put all the old paper in a sack. ‘I’ll do those fiddly bits,’ John said. ‘It’ll only take me a few minutes.’
‘It’s a wonder your arms aren’t dropping off,’ Dot said, ‘stretching up all that time.’
‘No, I’m all right. Just a bit of a kink in my neck, that’s all.’
Dot looked over to where Katy and Billy stood talking. The pair had worked like a couple of Trojans; the room would never have been finished without them. ‘Billy, sunshine, yer’ve been a little brick, so has Katy. But it’s nearly a quarter past ten and I’m worried about yer mam. She’ll wonder where yer’ve got to.’
‘Nah, she’ll be all right, she knows I’m here.’
‘Even so, I think yer should be making tracks. We’ll just put the furniture back, then I won’t be long out of bed meself ’cos I’m nearly asleep on me feet.’
‘Can I come tomorrow, then, Mrs Baker?’ Billy asked. ‘I can give a hand rubbing the paintwork down.’
‘Of course yer can, sunshine, but leave it until after dinner.’
‘I’ll see yer out, Billy, but first yer’ll have to bring the chairs in or we won’t be able to open the front door.’
When Billy had gone, Dot went into the kitchen where her son was watching John emptying the bucket. She heard him say, ‘It’s me birthday next Saturday, Mr Kershaw.’
‘Is it, now?’ John saw Dot standing in the doorway and winked. ‘Well, we’ll have to do something to celebrate, won’t we?’ He reached down to put the bucket on the floor. ‘Will you do me a favour and check that all the bits of paper have been picked up, please?’
‘It’s way past his bedtime,’ Dot said. ‘He should be in dreamland by now.’
John smiled at the boy. ‘You’ve got two minutes, Colin.’
When Dot made to follow her son, John motioned for her to stay. ‘I wanted a word with you on your own. Would you mind very much if I took Colin to a football match next Saturday, as a birthday treat?’
‘Oh, he’d be over the moon! He’s never been to a football match.’ Dot tilted her head and screwed up one eye. ‘As long as I can pay for him.’
John sucked in his breath with frustration. ‘I heard you telling Betty tonight that she sometimes goes too far. Well, she’s not the only one, because you really do take things to the extreme. Why won’t you let me take Colin to the match as a birthday present from me? Would it hurt you so much to allow me that little pleasure?’
Dot held his eyes for a few seconds, then said, ‘I am a miserable bitch, aren’t I? Me mam’s always telling me that there’s such a thing as having too much pride.’ Without turning her head, she called, ‘Colin, come here a minute, sunshine.’
‘Yes, Mam?’
‘Mr Kershaw’s got something to tell yer. I’ll finish off in there and then make a pot of tea before Betty starts giving me a mouthful.’
When the cry of pleasure reached her ears, Dot smiled. The fates had certainly been on Colin’s side the night they decided that if he had to run in front of a bike, then he couldn’t pick a better one than John Kershaw’s.
The furniture was back in place, the children were in bed, and Dot, Betty and John were enjoying a well-earned cup of tea. ‘This time next week you won’t know this room.’ John cast his eyes over the walls and ceiling. ‘Nice white ceiling and paintwork, and light wallpaper, it will look a treat.’
Dot was too tired to say she wouldn’t have the money to buy the gloss paint or the border until Saturday when she and Katy got paid. She’d tell him tomorrow when she felt more like it. ‘Thanks for offering to take Colin to the match, he’s absolutely delighted,’ she said instead. ‘I’ve never seen him so excited – he probably won’t sleep all week.’
‘I’ll enjoy taking him, he’ll be company for me. Liverpool are playing at home so it should be a good match.’
‘When it’s my birthday, will yer take me?’ Betty grinned. ‘My feller wouldn’t object – he’d be glad to get rid of me for a few hours.’
‘You’ve certainly got the voice of the Kop, Betty,’ John said, ‘but I don’t think I could handle you, you’re too much for me.’
Betty leaned forward and touched Dot’s knee. ‘Insult or compliment?’
‘Oh, definitely a compliment, sunshine, a big compliment for a big woman.’ Dot suddenly put a hand to her mouth. ‘Oh strewth, John, I’d forgotten the things you brought for Mary. I’ll pass them over first thing in the morning, before her beloved gets up, I promise.’
‘How is she?’
‘She gets a good dinner every day from Monday to Friday, Betty and Maggie see to that. But Saturday and Sunday are difficult with him being home, so all I can do is take her a dish of porridge and a couple of rounds of toast for her breakfast. She says she’s fine, and there’s no sign of bruises or anything.’ Dot curled her hands around the cup. ‘But I’m not satisfied in me mind that all is as she says it is. I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him.’
‘Me neither,’ Betty said grimly. ‘He’s a rotten bugger and I wouldn’t put anything past him. But if Mary’s says everything’s all right, there’s nowt we can do to interfere.’
John sighed and shook his head. ‘What an existence for a young woman.’ He put his cup on the floor and stretched his long arms over his head. ‘I think I’ll hit the trail, I feel quite tired.’
‘Yer’ve worked hard, John, and I’m beholden to yer. Get home to yer bed, and drop me mate off at her door, will yer
?’
‘I’ll leave her at her door, I haven’t got the energy to drop her there.’
‘Ay, excuse me! Don’t you two be talkin’ about me as though I wasn’t here.’ Betty forced a hurt expression to her face. ‘Ye’re only picking on me ’cos I’m little.’
‘Get off yer backside, Betty Mason, and toddle off home.’ Dot gave a wide yawn. ‘Even me flamin’ eyelashes are tired.’
‘Come on, Betty.’ John cupped the big woman’s elbow. ‘Let’s make a move.’ He smiled at Dot. ‘I’ll come early in the morning and see if I can get the ceiling done before it’s time for you to put the dinner out.’
‘Not before ten, please, give me time to wake up. And I’ll peel an extra spud so yer can have a bit of dinner with us.’
‘Am I included in the invitation, girl?’
‘You can go to blazes, Betty Mason. I don’t want to see you before three o’clock.’
Betty’s smile was sweet. ‘Sod you, too, girl.’
Chapter Nine
Katy chewed on a piece of toast as she watched her mother sweep things off the top of the sideboard into an open drawer. ‘You go, Mam, or yer’ll be late for work. I’ll see to the fire and our Colin will tidy around while we’re out.’
‘He doesn’t do it properly, he leaves all sorts lying about. Oh, I’m not blaming him, he’s only a kid, after all. And as it’s his birthday he’ll think that’s a good enough excuse not to do anything. I’m coming home from work at dinner-time instead of going straight to the shops so I can make sure he’s neat and tidy to go to the match with Mr Kershaw.’ Dot chuckled. ‘If it was left to him he’d go out without polishing his shoes and with a dirty big tidemark around his neck.’
‘Is Mr Kershaw still coming for tea?’
Dot nodded. ‘I asked Colin if he’d like to invite a friend for tea, seeing as it’s his birthday, but he said he’d rather have John than any of his schoolfriends. So I didn’t have much option.’ She stood in the middle of the room and looked around. ‘I still can’t get used to this room looking so light, I keep thinking I’m in the wrong house.’