MB07 - Three Little Words

by Joan Jonker

  ‘I’ll come with yer, love, if Ruthie is going over to the Watsons’,’ Jack said. ‘I don’t see much of either of me grandchildren, and I don’t want to be a stranger to them.’

  Ruthie’s eyes widened. ‘Dad, have yer forgotten this is a big day in my life? Don’t yer remember me and Bella are going to the pictures? She’ll be standing by the window waiting for me, ’cos we should be on our way now. It’s a good job I got washed and changed as soon as I came in from work, or we’d be too late.’ She scraped her chair back. ‘That’s what I get for listening to me mam.’ Her coat was ready on the couch, and she slipped her arms into it. ‘I won’t be late, Mam, but if ye’re out, I’ll go in with Bella until I see the light go on.’ With that she was out of the door and halfway across the street by the time Molly got to the step.

  ‘Enjoy yerself, sunshine, but take care!’

  ‘I will, Mam. Ta-ra.’

  Jack put his arm across his wife’s shoulder. ‘I can tell by yer face that ye’re going to be as worried about her as Mary is about Bella, but yer’ve no need to be, for our Ruthie has got her head screwed on the right way. She’s much more advanced than the others were at her age. I’d feel sorry for any man who tried to take advantage of her, ’cos they’d get more than they bargained for.’

  Molly let out a sigh. ‘Yeah, I know, sunshine, but she’s the last one left in the nest, and I don’t want her to grow up too quickly. In fact, selfish though it may sound, I would like her to stay fourteen years and four months for ever.’

  ‘Not much hope of that, love, so make the most of her while she’s here. And now, I’ll help yer with the dishes and then we’ll go and see our grandson.’

  ‘Look at yer dad, Doreen, he’s like a child with a new toy.’ There was love in Molly’s eyes as she watched her husband with the baby. Bobby was eight months old now, and beginning to recognise different faces and voices. And when Jack tickled his tummy, his laugh was really hearty as his arms and legs kicked out.

  Jack felt very proud as he gazed down into eyes that were as blue as the sky on a summer day. Doreen and Phil had blue eyes and blond hair, but it was too soon to say who the baby would favour in looks, his mam or his dad. ‘With legs like you’ve got, Bobby, yer could well make the Liverpool team when yer grow up.’

  ‘Watch it, Mr B.,’ Phil said. ‘Don’t forget his dad’s a red hot Evertonian. It’ll be blue for him, not red.’

  ‘My son will make his own mind up when he’s old enough,’ Doreen said. ‘Yer never know, he could end up a film star, like Alan Ladd. He’s got blond hair. Mind you, I have heard he’s very small and has to have his shoes built up to make him look taller.’

  ‘Ah, yer shouldn’t be making plans for the lad,’ Victoria said. ‘Then yer wouldn’t be disappointed if he wanted to be a ballet dancer.’

  ‘Ooh, I think I’d be very disappointed if he wanted to be a ballet dancer, Aunt Vicky,’ Phil said, a smile on his handsome face. ‘Can yer imagine me introducing him to the men I work with, and saying, “This is my son, he’s a ballet dancer”?’

  ‘You talking about yer work, sunshine, has just reminded me that I saw Ken Thompson’s mother this afternoon. Me and Nellie were talking to her for a while, and I invited her to come for a cuppa and a chinwag on Friday afternoon. She works four mornings a week now, in a laundry, and she seems quite happy. Have yer ever seen her, Phil?’

  Phil shook his head. ‘No, but I’ve heard a lot about her from Ken. I travel home with him some nights, and he talks non-stop about her. Her name’s Claire, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, and I’m not surprised at Ken talking about her so much, ’cos she’s got to be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. All our girls are lovely, but Claire is something else. She would knock any film star into a cocked hat.’

  ‘Ooh, would yer bring her over on Friday when she comes to yours?’ Doreen asked. ‘I’d like to see her. Phil often talks about what a nice lad Ken is.’

  ‘He’s a good worker, I’ll say that for him,’ Phil said. ‘I’m really glad I put a word in for him with the boss, because he certainly hasn’t let me down. In fact, the boss has asked me a few times if I know any more lads as good as him.’

  ‘Tell him if he waits fourteen years he’ll have one as good as his dad,’ Jack said, talking to the baby. ‘It’s an idea, if yer can’t make it to the Liverpool team, lad.’

  ‘Shall I make yer a drink, Mam?’ Doreen asked. ‘I never thought because we’d not long finished our dinner when yer came.’

  ‘No, thanks, sunshine. We’ve not long finished our dinner, either. And me and yer dad are going round to me ma’s for half an hour, just to see how they are. I don’t want Tommy and Rosie to feel left out ’cos I see much more of you and Jill than I do of them. Mind you, they’ll understand it’s only natural with you and Jill having babies.’ Molly chuckled. ‘Talking of babies, my youngest baby has gone to the pictures tonight with Bella. Which she thinks makes her grown-up now. Only first house, mind; I wouldn’t let her go to the last house. We had a job talking Mary into it, and I bet she stands at the window all night waiting for her daughter to come home safe and sound.’

  ‘Mary can’t help the way she’s made, Molly,’ Victoria said. ‘She’s always been of a nervous disposition, and Bella is her only child.’

  ‘She’s a good neighbour, Mam.’ Doreen went to their neighbour’s defence. ‘Never a day goes by that she doesn’t ask how Aunt Vicky is. If she hears me in the yard she’ll shout over the wall, but if not, she’ll knock on the door to see if we want anything.’

  ‘Yer don’t have to tell me that, sunshine, for Mary was keeping an eye on Victoria long before you and Phil moved in. Yer couldn’t ask for a better neighbour, or friend.’

  Doreen looked at the clock. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt yer conversation with me son, Dad, but it’s time to get him ready for bed.’ She held out her arms. ‘Pass him over, and don’t look so scared, he won’t break.’ She held the baby close and kissed his forehead. ‘I’m trying to get him into a routine by putting him to bed at seven o’clock every night. He slept right through last night until six this morning, which was great.’

  Phil’s blue eyes twinkled. ‘The only thing was, he didn’t tell us he was going to sleep through, and we both slept with an eye and an ear open.’

  ‘It was really inconsiderate of him not to tell yer, sunshine, but if he sleeps through again tonight, that’s his way of telling yer that the routine is working.’ Molly was proud of the way her once wayward daughter had turned out to be a fantastic housewife and a loving mother, and at the same time was taking such good care of the woman who had offered her and Phil a home. Victoria’s hair was always neat and tidy, her clothes were immaculate, she was well fed, and her face told of her happiness and contentment.

  ‘Shall I sit down and make meself comfortable?’ Jack asked with a grin. ‘Or are we on our way round to yer ma’s?’

  ‘Don’t park yer bottom, love, ’cos we’ll have to move. I want to try and be back for when Ruthie comes home from the pictures. It’s a big step for her, paying at the kiosk for her ticket and then following the usher to her seat. She’ll be so excited she’ll want to talk about it, and I think you and me should be the ones she tells. Sometimes she reminds me a bit of Nellie. She can be just as funny when she puts her mind to it, and she says exactly what she thinks and to hell with the consequences.’

  ‘I think Lily is like Auntie Nellie,’ Doreen said. ‘She’s a real hoot when she takes her mother off, and she’s just as quick on the uptake.’

  Victoria had a habit of putting a hand to her mouth when she laughed, and she did that now. ‘Have you ever shown your mother how you can impersonate Nellie?’

  When Doreen blushed, Molly said, ‘No, she hasn’t! Oh, when she was little, she used to try and walk like Nellie, and pull faces, but I think Nellie’s bad language got in the way of her doing a good job. For I wouldn’t have found it funny if a daughter of mine came out with some of the words my mate uses.�
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  ‘Oh, Doreen is very good at it,’ Victoria said. ‘When we see yer standing outside your house having one of yer make-believe arguments, we stand by the window and Doreen has Nellie’s body and face movements off to a T.’

  ‘That’s an exaggeration, Aunt Vicky, ’cos me mam does it better than anyone could. I only do it for a laugh.’

  ‘Isn’t that why we all do it?’ Molly chuckled. ‘It just goes to show, though, that yer never know when ye’re being watched. But next time, I’ll tell Nellie to have an argument with herself, and I’ll nip over here and watch. And that’s not as daft as it sounds, ’cos she’d be prepared to do it if she knew we were watching. There’s nothing my mate likes better than playing to an audience. I think if it came to a choice between a cream slice or applause, Nellie would opt for the applause.’ Molly’s head dropped back and she roared with laughter. ‘And when the applause had died down, yer wouldn’t see her heels for the dust as she ran like hell to Hanley’s for a cream slice.’

  Phil sat listening, a warm glow inside him as he thought how lucky he was to have such a wonderful family and friends. The big family that was the Bennetts, the McDonoughs and the Corkhills had taken him in and made him one of them. ‘When yer go to the shops tomorrow, Mrs B., will yer get seven cream slices? That’s if yer can carry them with the rest of yer shopping.’

  ‘Seven!’ Molly’s voice came out in a squeak. ‘What in heaven’s name d’yer want seven cream slices for?’

  ‘Four for yer to take to Mrs Corkhill’s for her, Jill, Auntie Nellie and yerself. And we three are partial to cream slices, so as I said, if yer can manage to carry them, I’ll pay for them.’ Phil suddenly realised he’d left Jack and Ruthie out. ‘I’m out with me counting. It’ll be nine cakes, not seven.’

  ‘There’s no question of being able to carry them, son, for Nellie would carry them on her head if she had to. But you don’t have to pay for them all. We’ll pay for our own.’

  ‘I want to, Mrs B., so don’t put up an argument.’

  ‘No, Mam,’ Doreen said. ‘Remember the saying that yer should never look a gift horse in the mouth. And you’ve done plenty for us, so a cream slice is a very small repayment.’

  ‘Okay, yer twisted me arm.’ Molly stood up and wagged her finger at Jack. ‘Come on, sunshine. I want to spend an hour at me ma’s, not run in and out.’ She gave a throaty chuckle. ‘I let yer twist me arm over the cakes, but I wonder if Nellie will be willing to let yer mug her to a cream slice. She’s very independent, yer know.’

  It was Victoria’s turn to chuckle. ‘You could play a joke on her for a change, sweetheart, and tell her the cake was for George.’

  Molly put her bag down, stood in the middle of the floor with her hands on her hips and became Nellie. With her eyes like slits, and her face screwed up, she snarled, ‘It’ll be over my dead body, girl, that George gets his bleeding hands on that cake. What does Phil think he’s playing at, the miserable bugger, leaving me out. I’ll be over there tonight, as soon as he gets in from work, and he’ll get a piece of me mind.’ The pretend bosom was hitched up. ‘I’m having one of those cakes when we get to Lizzie’s, girl, or no one gets one. So put that in yer bleeding pipe and smoke it.’

  ‘Very good, love,’ Jack said. ‘If I closed me eyes I’d think it was Nellie.’

  ‘Yer know, I’m daft,’ Molly told them. ‘I’m with her every day; yer’d think I’d have had enough of her. But I get a kick out of taking her off! I don’t know about daft, I’m crazy!’

  ‘We should be going, Molly, if yer want to spend some time with yer mam,’ Jack said. ‘I think we’d better be home for Ruthie. It wouldn’t seem right her having to wait in Bella’s for us to get home.’

  ‘I’m ready, sunshine.’ Molly kissed Victoria, Doreen and Phil, then had a special one for her grandson. ‘You sleep all night for yer mam and dad, d’yer hear, Bobby? There’s a good boy.’

  ‘I’ll see them out while you take the baby up,’ Phil said. ‘He goes down easier for you than he does for me.’

  When Molly stepped down on to the pavement, she linked Jack’s arm, then smiled up at Phil. ‘Doreen’s with the baby all day, son, so he’s bound to be more used to her ways than he is to yours. But just wait till he’s a bit older. He’ll be taking yer hand and asking yer to take him to the park and on the swings.’

  Jack wasn’t going to let that pass. ‘And a few years after that, Phil, he’ll be asking yer to take him to the match at Anfield.’

  ‘Yer mean Goodison, don’t yer, Mr B.?’

  Molly pulled on her husband’s arm. ‘Come on before you two start talking football. Honest, women have so many chores on their minds, and all you men think about is ruddy football.’

  ‘I’m coming.’ Jack chortled as he tried to keep his feet on the ground. ‘This is what marriage is when the novelty has worn off, Phil, so don’t say I didn’t warn yer.’

  Tommy raised his brows in surprise when he opened the front door. ‘Hi, Mam, Dad. I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight. Yer never mentioned yer were coming when I called in from work.’

  Molly swept past him. ‘Yer dad didn’t know, sunshine. I don’t tell him everything, yer see.’ She smiled when she saw her mother and father sitting beside each other on the couch, holding hands. Ooh, she felt like eating them, she loved them so much, but she had to make do with a kiss. ‘Did Tommy tell yer our Ruthie’s gone to the first house pictures with Bella?’

  ‘He did, me darlin’.’ Bridie nodded. ‘And he said she was as pleased as Punch.’ Still a fine-looking woman in her seventies, Bridie Jackson, like her husband Bob, thought they were the luckiest couple in the world, with the most wonderful family in the world. They’d only had the one child, Molly, but she had given them four grandchildren, and recently a great-grandson, and now a great-granddaughter. Their cup of happiness was overflowing. Born in Ireland, Bridie still had that lovely Irish lilt to her voice, and she and her husband were adored by their family and all their friends. ‘I imagine she’ll be coming round tomorrow night to tell us all about her great adventure, so she will. And, sure, me and Bob are happy for her, right enough, but we’ll not be wanting her to grow up too quickly, and that’s the truth of it.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Ma, I’ll be keeping her on a tight leash. This is her first step into being independent, and it’ll be a while before she takes her second.’

  Tommy’s wife, Rosie, came through from the kitchen, a broad smile of welcome on her bonny face. ‘Auntie Molly, sure it’s good to see yer, so it is.’ After giving her mother-in-law a bear hug and a kiss, she turned to Jack. ‘And it’s yerself come to see us, Uncle Jack. Sure, it’s not often we have the pleasure.’

  ‘Then don’t I get a kiss?’ Jack, like the rest of the family and friends, had taken this beautiful Irish colleen to his heart. ‘It’s not that I don’t want to come and see yer more often, love, but usually I have to stay in with Ruthie when Molly comes around.’ He chuckled. ‘But me baby-sitting days are over now, with our youngest daughter grown up enough to go to the pictures with her friend.’

  Tommy’s eyes never left the face of the wife he adored. ‘Doesn’t yer dearly beloved husband get a kiss?’

  Rosie turned away from Jack, her face stern and her hands on her hips. ‘Wasn’t it yerself that stole a dozen kisses while we were washing the dishes?’

  Tommy shook his head. ‘No, it was thirteen kisses, my dearly beloved, and yer know thirteen is an unlucky number.’

  ‘Did not yer think of that when yer were stealing the kisses, Tommy Bennett?’

  ‘When I’m kissing you, Rosie, I’m not capable of thinking of anything else.’

  ‘How can I refuse when yer say things like that?’ Rosie put her arms round his neck and kissed him soundly on the lips. ‘That’s for being the finest figure of a man on this earth, and having the sense to choose me for yer ever-loving wife.’

  Molly slipped her coat off and sat in a chair by the table. She had a half smile on her face as she watc
hed her son and his beautiful wife. Years ago she could never have imagined her shy son kissing anyone in front of her. And he probably would still be as shy if he didn’t witness, every day, the love his grandma and granddad had for each other. They held hands and kissed no matter who was there. And Rosie was the same. She would never dream of telling a lie, or doing things on the sly. She had plenty of love to give, and she gave it freely. With Rosie, what you saw was what you got.

  ‘D’yer feel like a game of cards?’ Bridie asked. ‘Or would yer prefer to relax, have a cup of tea, and tell us how our great-grandchildren are?’

  ‘We won’t play cards, Ma, ’cos it takes well over an hour to have one game, and I really do want to be home for Ruthie.’

  ‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ Rosie said, ‘and yer can have a piece of the sandwich cake Auntie Bridget made with her own fair hands.’ She turned to go to the kitchen when she said, ‘Sure a little birdie must have told yer it was a good night to come visiting. For isn’t the dear woman one of the best sponge cake makers ever, so she is.’

  Molly licked her lips. ‘Me mouth is watering already. I can remember me ma’s baking. When I was at school I could always smell it as soon as I came through the door.’ She smiled at Bridie. ‘Remember, Ma, yer always saved me a bit of pastry so I could make a little cake for meself. But somehow, it always came out of the oven as hard as a rock, while yours were as light as a feather.’

  ‘Oh, yer can’t learn how to make pastry in a few minutes, me darling. It’s something that comes with practice. Yer have to have a feel for it, that yer have the right mix of flour and margarine. And yer have to have the time and patience. Sure, when my mammy first taught me, there was many a time when the cake hadn’t risen and was as flat as a pancake.’

  Molly pulled a face. ‘I stick to fairy cakes, Ma, or the occasional Victoria sponge. I haven’t the patience for these fancy concoctions. But our Doreen’s not bad. She makes nice sponges, and she’ll have a go at making bread. Victoria taught her, and she’s a dab hand at it now.’