MB07 - Three Little Words

by Joan Jonker

  ‘Hang on a minute here, sunshine, let’s backpedal a bit. Yer said fifty years ago, when I was fourteen, things were different. Just how old d’yer think I am, sunshine! Ye’re putting years on me good style, ’cos according to you, I’d be sixty-four now. For your information, I am forty-three, and yer dad is forty-five.’

  Jack put his knife and fork down and pushed the plate away. ‘And, young lady, if you look as good at forty-three as yer mam does, then yer can thank her for it, for you and yer sisters inherited her good looks.’

  Ruthie loved her mam and dad dearly, and she was proud of their looks. So she wasn’t going to have one flattered and not the other. ‘And our Tommy’s got you to thank for being tall, dark and handsome.’

  ‘I think yer’ve paid enough compliments to get permission from yer dad and me to go to the flicks, so if yer’ve got any more, save them for Mrs Watson.’ Molly reached for the plates. ‘I’ll wash, sunshine, and you can dry.’

  As soon as the dishes were put away, and the tablecloth shaken in the yard, Ruthie was all for going across the road to her friend’s, but Molly put the block on it. ‘Give them a chance to get their dinner down, sunshine, or they’ll curse us. And it wouldn’t put Mary in a very good mood, so let’s bear that in mind. Give it half an hour and we’ll nip over.’

  As Molly had expected, Mary Watson shook her head before Ruthie had finished speaking. ‘Not on your life, Ruthie. Ye’re both too young to be going to the pictures on yer own.’

  This was going to be hard work, Molly thought, before going to her daughter’s help. ‘The nights are light until nearly nine o’clock now, Mary, and they’d be home from first house before half eight. And I can’t see what harm they’d come to. They can’t play in the streets like they used to, and yer can’t expect them to stay in every night, not after they’ve been working from eight in the morning.’

  ‘But there’s some funny people about these days, Molly, and I’d worry meself sick. What if a strange man started talking to them? Yer never know what would happen.’

  Molly had an ally in Mary’s husband, Harry, who was always telling his wife she shouldn’t mollycoddle their only child so much, or she’d never learn to stick up for herself. ‘Bella has got to be allowed to be independent like other girls, Mary, or she’ll never have any confidence. Give her some credit for being able to look after herself.’ He smiled at Ruthie, who was far more outgoing than his daughter. ‘What would yer do, Ruthie, if a strange man came up to yer and started talking?’

  ‘I’d tell him to get lost and walk away. And if he persisted I’d kick him in the shin and then run like the wind.’

  Mary sensed she was fighting a losing battle, but she still wasn’t happy about the prospect of her daughter’s going out at night. She chewed on her bottom lip for a while, then said, ‘I could meet them coming out of the pictures to make sure they get home safely.’

  ‘Oh, no!’ Harry decided it was time to put his foot down, or his daughter would be tied to her mother’s apron strings for ever. ‘No, Mary, you will not! Give the girl some freedom, for heaven’s sake.’

  Molly noticed that Bella had gone to stand beside Ruthie, and they were holding hands. It had always been like that. When they were little they had to play on the pavement outside the Watsons’ house, because Mary wouldn’t let Bella out of her sight. But Ruthie had never objected, and if any of the other kids made fun of Bella for being a ‘mammy’s girl’, Ruthie soon chased them away. ‘Mary, I worry about every one of my kids, always have done, no matter how old they were. I’m sure every mother in the land does. But yer have to start letting them spread their wings some time. None of my kids have come to any harm, have they? Never been in trouble for fighting or giving cheek, either. And that’s because I’ve taught them how to behave, and given them some freedom at the same time.’

  ‘What picture house are yer going to?’ Mary knew she was outnumbered, but she still wasn’t happy. ‘Can yer get a tram there and back?’

  ‘It’s only two stops to the Astoria, Auntie Mary,’ Ruth said. ‘We can walk there and back and save the fare. The picture is a comedy, with William Powell and Myrna Loy, and one of the girls we work with said it was really funny. She laughed all the way home.’

  ‘I’ll give yer the fare, save yer walking.’ Mary thought she was doing them a favour, but she could tell by their faces the offer wasn’t very well received. ‘Okay, if yer want to be independent, then you do what yer want. As long as ye’re back here by half eight, Bella, otherwise yer won’t be going out again for a long time, only with me and yer dad.’

  ‘We’ll be well home by then, Mam, I promise.’ Bella squeezed Ruthie’s hand. ‘And I’ll tell yer all about the picture.’ She couldn’t believe her luck. Never in her wildest dreams could she have imagined her mother agreeing. Mind you, she wouldn’t have done if Auntie Molly hadn’t been there. ‘And if we buy any sweets, I’ll save one each for you and me dad.’

  ‘I’ll give yer the money for sweets, pet,’ Harry told her, pleased to see her so happy. ‘I might even stretch to a tuppenny slab of Cadbury’s each.’

  Ruthie rolled her eyes and sighed. ‘Oh, heavenly bliss, Uncle Harry. That’s me favourite chocolate. Seeing as you’re buying, I should promise to save yer a piece, but I know I wouldn’t be able to keep me promise. Bull’s eyes or blackjacks, yeah, I would have gladly saved yer one of them, but not Cadbury’s.’

  When Molly looked at her daughter, she wondered why some of her confidence hadn’t rubbed off on to her friend over the years. For Bella could certainly do with being a little more outgoing. She was a very pretty girl, with her mother’s dark colouring, and she was quite talkative when she was with people she knew well. In Molly’s, for instance, she’d talk the hind leg off a donkey, but with strangers she was painfully shy.

  ‘Come on, sunshine, let’s go home to yer dad before he thinks I’ve run off with the coalman. Say goodnight to Auntie Mary and Uncle Harry, and we’ll leave them in peace.’

  Mary went to the door with them. ‘I know yer think I’m over-possessive, Molly, and I know I’m holding Bella back, but it’s the way I’m made. I’m going to have to change, though, ’cos it’s not fair. I’ll start tomorrow, when her and Ruthie go out. I won’t sit biting me nails, I’ll tear me hair out instead.’

  Molly grinned. ‘That beats cutting yer throat, sunshine, ’cos blood makes a hell of a mess. And it’s the very devil to wash out of anything.’

  ‘Look who’s coming up the street, Mam,’ Ruthie said, pulling on her mother’s hand. ‘Come on, let’s say hello to him.’

  Molly turned to see her next-door neighbour, Corker, walking on the opposite side of the street with another man. ‘Molly, me darling,’ he shouted, ‘come and meet an old friend of mine.’

  ‘I’ll see yer tomorrow, Mary,’ Molly said, taking Ruthie’s hand. ‘I mustn’t keep me boyfriend waiting.’

  Corker was Molly’s hero. The man was six foot five in height, built like a battleship, with hands like shovels, and would stand out in any crowd. And it would take a very brave man to tackle Corker. But to Molly he was a gentle giant, who would go to the ends of the earth to help his friends. And she should know; he’d helped her out many a time. ‘Are yer just getting home, Corker? Haven’t yer had yer dinner yet?’

  ‘Ah, well, yer see, me darlin’, I was coming home from work when I bumped into me old shipmate here, and we went for a pint. We had such a lot to catch up on, the one pint led to another, and so on.’ He put a hand on his friend’s arm. ‘This is the prettiest woman in the street, Molly Bennett, and her youngest daughter, Ruthie. And this, me darlin’ Molly, is Derek Mattocks, who I sailed with during the war. We haven’t seen each other since then, so we had a lot to tell each other.’

  After Derek had shaken hands with Molly, he held out his hand to Ruthie, and she nearly burst with pride because she felt so grown-up. ‘Corker insisted I come home to meet his wife, but I’m beginning to think he needs me as an excuse for being so late. B
ut it was good to meet him after so many years, and we had a lot to catch up with. I’ll stand in front of him if his wife takes the frying pan to him.’

  Molly smiled. What a nice bloke he seemed, friendly and very handsome. He was about six foot tall, with thick jet black hair, deep hazel eyes, and a set of pure white teeth. Younger than Corker, she guessed, by about ten years. She reckoned he’d be about thirty-five or so. ‘Ellen is far too gentle to take the frying pan to Corker, but if his dinner is ruined, well, no one would blame her if it ended up on his head.’

  Corker’s head dropped back and his hearty laugh filled the air. He was a fine figure of a man, with a mop of greying hair, a huge moustache and a bushy beard. ‘Ellen couldn’t reach me head, but, sure, I’m a big enough target for her to hit.’

  Derek held his hands out and pretended they were shaking. ‘I won’t come with yer after all, Corker. I’ll leave it for another day.’

  Again Corker’s laugh filled the air. ‘Wait until yer see the size of me wife, Derek. Sure she only comes up to me waist. And she’d never hit me when I had a visitor with me.’

  They began to walk up the street, with Ruthie clinging to her Uncle Corker’s arm. He was a firm favourite with all the Bennett family, and the McDonoughs. ‘Shall I come in with yer, Uncle Corker, and stop Auntie Ellen from hitting yer?’

  Molly pulled on her arm. ‘Not on yer life yer don’t, sunshine. We’ll let Uncle Corker face the music on his own. But if we hear the sound of crockery breaking, then I’ll send yer dad in to sort them out before they wreck the joint.’ They stopped outside her house, and she smiled at Derek. ‘It was nice meeting yer, Derek. Perhaps we’ll see yer again some time.’

  ‘Oh, yer’ll be seeing Derek again, me darlin’, that’s for sure. For I’ll not be losing touch with him again.’

  Molly was chuckling as she put the key in the door. ‘When yer get inside, Derek, keep moving. Don’t make yerself an easy target.’

  He laughed back at her. ‘I’ll pretend I’m on board the ship in the middle of a storm, and I’ll rock with the deck.’

  Ellen must have heard them and popped her head out of the front door. ‘I thought I could hear your voice, Jimmy Corkhill. What time d’yer call this to be coming in?’ she asked, trying to look angry. ‘Don’t be expecting any dinner ’cos I threw it on the back of the fire half an hour ago. It wasn’t fit to eat.’

  ‘Come on, Ruthie, let’s get in. I hate to see a grown man crying.’ Molly pushed her daughter ahead of her, and as she was closing the door she heard Corker saying, ‘Well, it was like this, me darling. I met this long lost shipmate, but I’ll tell yer all about it inside. That’s if yer’ve a mind to let us in.’

  ‘Who were yer talking to?’ Jack asked when Molly walked in. ‘It sounded like Corker’s voice. Is he on his way out to the pub?’

  ‘Oh, I shouldn’t think so, love.’ Molly chuckled as she hung up her coat. ‘He’ll be in Ellen’s bad books coming home at this time. He was on his way home at his usual time, when he bumped into an old shipmate. Of course, as yer would expect of Corker, they went in a pub to celebrate, didn’t they, and as he said one pint led to another, and so on. He’s probably getting down the banks off Ellen, ’cos she’s just told him his dinner was ruined.’

  ‘Is his friend with him?’

  Molly nodded. ‘His name’s Derek Mattocks, and he seems a real nice bloke. He’s younger than Corker. In his mid-thirties, I’d say.’

  Jack rubbed his chin. ‘D’yer think I should get shaved in case Corker knocks if they’re going for a pint? I didn’t shave last night ’cos I didn’t feel like it, and I look scruffy.’

  ‘It’s up to you, sunshine, whether yer get shaved or not. But I don’t think anyone will be knocking for yer to go for a drink tonight.’

  ‘I’ll leave it until later then,’ Jack said, folding the Echo and pushing it down the side of his chair. ‘How did yer get on with Bella’s mam, Ruthie?’

  She sat on the arm of his chair and grinned. ‘Your youngest daughter is now old enough to go to the pictures on her own. Or at least with her best friend. This time tomorrow night, me and Bella will be sitting in the pictures with a tuppenny slab of Cadbury’s each. And it’s all thanks to me mam and Uncle Harry. It took some doing, but they talked Auntie Mary round. She was dead against it at first, and me heart sank. But we won in the end ’cos she was outnumbered.’

  Jack put his arm round her. ‘It’ll be easier next time, pet, you’ll see. Once she knows ye’re capable of getting home safe, she’ll not worry so much.’

  Ruthie laughed. ‘She wanted to come and meet us coming out of the pictures, but Uncle Harry put his foot down.’

  ‘Good for him,’ Jack said, ‘but I hope yer don’t think that because ye’re being allowed to go to the pictures on yer own, yer can go on to do other things that grown-ups do, ’cos it doesn’t work like that. You are still only fourteen, don’t forget that.’

  ‘Dad, I’m not only fourteen, I’m fourteen years and four months.’

  ‘Oh, don’t forget those four months, Jack.’ Molly grinned. ‘In another two months she’ll be telling us she’s nearer fifteen than fourteen, and that’s plenty old enough to go to the dances in the church hall with a boy.’

  Always ready with an answer, Ruthie said, ‘How did yer know that, Mam? Are yer a mind-reader?’

  ‘I would be if I could read everyone’s mind as well as I can read yours, sunshine.’ Molly kept her tone light, remembering the time she’d been fourteen and wished she was older. ‘I know Gordon Corkhill goes to the church dances, and Jeff Mowbray.’

  ‘Oh, them!’ Ruthie shrugged her shoulder. ‘I know them, but neither of them’s me boyfriend.’

  ‘Boyfriend! At your age, young lady, they better hadn’t be!’ Molly caught Jack’s wink and was dying to smile. But if she did, it would send the wrong signal to her daughter, who would take it that it was all right to have a boyfriend. ‘Yer’ve a long way to go yet before yer start bringing a boyfriend home. And if Bella truly is yer best friend, yer won’t mention the word in front of her mam, ’cos if Mary so much as heard the word boyfriend, I wouldn’t put it past her to have bars put on her bedroom window.’

  ‘Oh, yer mean she might think someone would run off with Bella?’ Ruthie’s blue eyes were full of mischief. ‘Like Romeo and Juliet? Ooh, I’ll have to tell Bella to let her hair grow very long, so Romeo could use it as a rope to climb up to her window.’

  ‘Yer’ve got part of it right, sunshine, but Juliet was on a balcony, she didn’t have a window with heavy bars on.’ Molly gave a soft sigh. ‘Now, since we’ve discussed all there is to discuss about your life, sunshine, how about yer making me and yer dad a nice cup of tea. And there’s some biscuits in the tin, only don’t take too many out, or yer Auntie Nellie will curse yer in the morning when there isn’t one to have with her morning cuppa.’

  ‘Oh, we can’t have that, can we?’ Ruthie hummed as she made her way to the kitchen. She’d been lucky today, getting permission to go to the pictures, so she wouldn’t push her luck by mentioning the dance in the church hall again. She’d leave that for another two months, when she was fourteen years and six months. That sounded much older, and would add more weight to her argument.

  Nellie eyed the tray Molly carried through from the kitchen. She could see a plate on the tray, but because the teapot was in front of it she couldn’t see what was on it. But she assured herself it must be biscuits, because her mate wouldn’t bring an empty plate in. No, of course she wouldn’t. There’d be no point.

  ‘As I was saying, Nellie, Corker’s shipmate seems a real nice bloke.’ Molly pulled out a chair and sat down. ‘I wonder if Corker got anything to eat in the end, or whether Ellen really had thrown his dinner on the fire.’

  ‘Oh, Ellen would have something in to cook for him, girl. Working in the butcher’s, she’s bound to have chops or sausages in. Stands to sense, doesn’t it?’ Nellie was sitting in the carver chair with her legs swinging. ‘I mean, li
ke, if yer had a cow, yer wouldn’t ever be short of milk, would yer?’

  Molly grinned as she lifted the teapot. ‘I suppose that’s one way of looking at it, sunshine.’

  It was then Nellie noticed the plate only had three custard creams on it. ‘Yer’ve left yerself short, there, haven’t yer, girl?’

  Molly knew full well what her mate was thinking because she’d expected it, but she decided to act daft. ‘What are yer talking about, sunshine? I don’t understand. What d’yer mean by I’ve left meself short?’

  Nellie nodded to the plate. ‘Yer’ve only brought one custard cream for yerself.’

  ‘What makes yer think I’m not having two?’

  ‘Because that would be very bad manners, girl, that’s why. I’m the visitor here, so it would make yer look very greedy if you had two biscuits and only left me with one. It would show yer hadn’t been brought up proper.’

  ‘Oh, so I’m lacking in etiquette, is that what ye’re telling me?’

  Nellie moved like lightning, and before Molly had time to breathe, two of the custard creams had disappeared off the plate. ‘Ye’re not only lacking in … er … in etic, ye’re also lacking in two custard creams, girl, and that’s what yer get for talking too much.’

  ‘The word is etiquette, sunshine, and I’m not lacking in anything.’ Molly put her hand in her apron pocket and brought out a custard cream. ‘See, one whole custard cream.’ She bit half of the biscuit off. ‘Now, you see, one half custard cream.’

  Nellie snatched the half biscuit out of Molly’s hand and stuffed it in her mouth. And sending crumbs flying through the air, she spluttered, ‘Now yer see it, now yer don’t. Yer’ve got to be quick if yer want to get anywhere in this life. I keep telling yer that, girl, but yer don’t take no notice.’

  Molly didn’t answer, but when she got in the kitchen she covered her mouth with a hand and laughed quietly. Then, when she’d composed herself, she reached for the long-handled stiff brush and marched back into the living room. ‘This, sunshine, is a brush. And those bits on me clean floor are crumbs. So what you have to do is use one to get rid of the other. And will yer try and not knock me table or chair legs, ’cos they’re in a bad enough state as it is, without you banging hell out of them.’