MB07 - Three Little Words

by Joan Jonker

  ‘Did yer tell her off, Mam?’

  Once again Molly chuckled. ‘What good would it do to tell Nellie off? It’s like water off a duck’s back with her. No, she just plonked her backside down, as large as life, and said, “Well, seeing as yer’ve nothing better to do, girl, yer can make me a cup of tea.” I opened me mouth to tell her what I thought of her, and when I looked into her face she gave me that innocent, butter wouldn’t melt in me mouth look, and I just threw me hands in the air and went to put the kettle on. I’m a sucker where me mate’s concerned, I know that. I can be calling her for everything under the sun, telling meself I’m going to play hell with her when I see her, but talking to meself is one thing; looking into her face and telling her she’s a bloody nuisance, well that’s another. She’s always been me mate, and she always will be. Even though she can be outrageous at times, especially in the butcher’s or the greengrocer’s, I wouldn’t change her for the world, and I’d be lost without her.’

  ‘There’s not many people that can say they’ve been the best of friends for over twenty years, and never fallen out, Mrs B.,’ Phil said, while Victoria nodded her head in agreement. ‘You are both very lucky. And we all gain from your friendship.’

  ‘Yeah, I know that, lad. But before Jack thinks I’ve left home and gone off with the coalman, can we sort out what day yer want us to pick yer mam up?’

  ‘How about Wednesday? I can tell her tomorrow when I go for her.’ Phil looked down at his clasped hands. ‘How d’yer think me mam looks, Mrs B.? I don’t think she looks any worse than she did a month ago, but I wonder to meself whether it’s wishful thinking on my part.’

  ‘To tell yer the truth, Phil, me and Nellie were talking about that only yesterday. And we both said we didn’t think there’d been any change in her for months. We didn’t think she’d make the wedding, but she did. I know she didn’t stay for the reception, but she made it to the church. I’m no doctor, but I think it’s having you back in her life, and Bobby, that’s doing it. She’s got more to live for now, and who knows what will happen? But she certainly is no worse now than she was at Christmas, and that must mean something. What does the doctor have to say about her?’

  ‘She doesn’t see him now, hasn’t done since Christmas. He said then that when she needs him she should get someone to ring his surgery and he’d come right away, night or day. And me mam won’t send for him ’cos she’s frightened of what he might say. I’d like to have a word with him meself, but I don’t want to upset her.’

  ‘What about Tom Bradley? Surely he should ask the doctor to come out to see if she’s any worse, or if there’s an improvement?’

  ‘I don’t talk to him, Mrs B., and I don’t discuss him with me mam. She says he’s good to her, and so are the children, and I’m not going to upset her by going into it too deeply.’ Phil was talking about his stepfather and the children his mother had by him. He had been a terrible stepfather to Phil, and although the lad was happy to have his mother back in his life, he could never forget the way Tom Bradley had treated him. ‘I don’t like to keep asking her about her health, and whether she feels worse than she’s letting on, but I wondered if you could find out for me, without it seeming too obvious.’

  ‘I do ask her, Phil, but she always says she feels the same. She never complains of pains or anything, but I’m as puzzled as you are. It’s nine months nearly since me and Nellie found out she was very ill, and she did say the doctor said it was only a matter of time. But although she’s still very weak, and all skin and bones, she keeps going. I really don’t know what to make of her, lad, I really don’t. I will try and find out how she feels, and then perhaps coax her to agree to see the doctor again for a check-up. That would be the best thing all round. Anyway, me and Nellie will pick her up in a taxi at the usual time on Wednesday, and take her home again.’

  ‘Thanks, Mrs B. I’ll tell her tomorrow.’

  ‘I’ll see her meself tomorrow, son, I always come over for half an hour, as yer well know. And as I’m a creature of habit, I’ll be here for a chinwag tomorrow afternoon.’

  ‘Why not make it tomorrow night, Mam?’ Doreen asked. ‘Uncle Corker’s taking all the men to the pub for a drink to meet his old shipmate, so we’ll all be husbandless for a couple of hours. But I’ve warned Phil if he comes home drunk I won’t let them in.’

  ‘Considering he never goes over the door without you, sweetheart,’ Victoria said, ‘I don’t think yer’ve anything to complain about.’

  ‘Nellie and Ellen are coming to sit with me,’ Molly told them. ‘Corker is bringing a few bottles of milk stout down for us.’

  ‘Ah, come over here, Mam, and we’ll have a hen party.’ Doreen raised her brows and looked at Victoria. ‘Yer wouldn’t mind, would yer, Aunt Vicky?’

  ‘Oh, I’d be delighted! It would be nice to have some company, and we’re bound to have a laugh if you and Nellie are coming, Molly.’

  ‘Yeah, I’d like that!’ Molly was pleased with the idea. ‘I’ll mention to Corker that we want an extra couple of bottles of milk stout. I don’t see why the men should have all the fun while the women sit at home twiddling their thumbs.’

  Victoria was nodding her head in rhythm with her rocking chair. ‘I’ll make some fairy cakes.’

  ‘And I’ll make sandwiches,’ Doreen said. ‘They’ll be my contribution.’

  Molly giggled. ‘My contribution will be bringing the entertainment, in the shape of the one and only Helen Theresa McDonough.’

  ‘Ay, d’yer think Uncle Corker would be upset if I didn’t go to the pub?’ Phil asked. ‘It seems like it’s going to be a good night here.’

  ‘Corker wants all the men to meet his old shipmate, and he’d be upset if yer refused. Besides, tomorrow night is a ladies only night. Apart from little Bobby, no men are allowed.’

  When Molly opened the door on Saturday night at half seven, it was to see Corker standing with his friend, Derek. ‘Molly, me darlin’, I’m just walking up to the pub with Derek to get the bottles of milk stout for the ladies. Will twelve bottles be enough?’

  Molly smiled at his companion. ‘Hello, Derek. It’s nice to see yer again. If yer take my advice, sunshine, only have one drink to Corker’s two, otherwise yer’ll never find yer way home. See how he’s leading me and me friends astray with twelve bottles of milk stout?’

  ‘Molly, me darlin’, are yer not forgetting this is an old mate, who not only sailed with me, but drank with me as well? He can hold his drink, can Derek, but if it so happens he has one over the eight, he’s welcome to flake out on our couch.’

  Derek grinned. ‘I’m out of practice, Corker, so I’ll not be able to keep up with yer. Three pints will be me limit.’

  ‘I should think so!’ Molly pulled a face at the very thought of anyone being able to down three pints. ‘My husband doesn’t drink often, so one pint makes him happy. And I don’t mind him getting a little tipsy now and again, but I draw the line at him being blotto.’

  ‘What about the drinks for the ladies, Molly?’ Corker asked, eager to get things organised so he could start some serious drinking. He could drink any man under the table, but never appeared to be drunk. ‘Would they like a bottle of sherry, as well as the stout?’

  ‘No, thanks, Corker, we’ll be quite happy with the stout. Phil’s mother is down, so there will be six of us.’

  ‘What about my princess, will she be down?’

  Molly shook her head. ‘The baby’s only a few weeks old, Corker. Jill wouldn’t leave her. Besides, she’s feeding the baby herself, so it wouldn’t do for her to drink. Another couple of months, perhaps, and she’ll be able to get out more.’

  ‘Right, well we’ll love yer and leave yer now, me darlin’, and we’ll drop the bottles off over the road. And tell Jack we’ll see him at the pub.’ His weather-beaten face creased in a smile. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing the gang all together. Tommy, Steve, Paul, Phil, Archie, George and Jack. Sure, it should be a good night.’

  ‘We
ll I hope the gang don’t get so drunk they come down the street singing and waking the neighbours. Yer’ll have us getting a name like a mad dog.’

  Corker guffawed. ‘If there’s any complaints, me darlin’, pass them over to me and I’ll deal with them.’

  ‘Enjoy yerself, Corker, and you Derek, and I’ll see Jack hurries himself up.’ Molly smiled as she closed the door. Corker was in his element when surrounded by friends, and he would really enjoy tonight. And he would be the one who forked out the most money, for there was more going into his house than any of the others. Apart from his own earnings, Ellen had a weekly wage, and Phoebe, Dorothy and Gordon all brought home a weekly pay packet.

  ‘Yer’d better put a move on, Jack,’ Molly said when she returned to the living room and found her husband standing in front of the mirror over the mantelpiece combing his hair. ‘If yer’ve got yer tie handy, I’ll tie it for yer. I make a neater knot than you, ’cos I’m more fussy.’

  Jack pointed to where a tie was draped over the back of a dining chair. ‘I couldn’t find the maroon one yer bought me for Christmas, but that one will do.’

  ‘Over my dead body will yer wear that tie, Jack Bennett. It’s got a couple of stains on it. Honest, have yer no pride in yerself?’

  ‘Molly, it’s dark in the pub. No one will notice.’

  ‘I don’t care whether it’s dark in the pub or not, ye’re not wearing that tie! They’ll wonder what sort of woman ye’re married to, who lets yer go out looking like a tramp. So don’t bother putting it on. I’ll slip upstairs and find the maroon one. I know yer won’t have looked properly, and I’ll probably put me hand right on it.’

  Jack’s reflection in the mirror pulled a face back at him. ‘Women! What would yer do with them?’ Then he grinned. ‘Ah, but what would we do without them, that’s the question.’

  ‘Are you talking to yerself, Jack Bennett?’ Molly came back in waving a deep maroon tie. ‘It’s a bad sign when yer start talking to yerself.’

  ‘Yer found the tie, then, love?’

  ‘It’s a wonder it didn’t bite yer hand off, soft lad. Yer didn’t look very hard. All I did was open the wardrobe door, and there it was, lying on the bottom where yer’d thrown it.’ She turned her husband round to face her. ‘Move yer hands out of the way while I put this tie on. When yer walk out of this door, Jack Bennett, yer’ll hold yer own with any of the other men.’

  Jack looked into her eyes and asked, ‘D’yer think any one of them will notice what I’ve got on? Men aren’t like women, yer know, love. We don’t scrutinise each other from the top of our heads to our shoes.’

  ‘No, I know that, sunshine, yer don’t need to tell me.’ Molly looked pleased with the neat knot she’d tied. ‘Yer’ll have a pint put in yer hand as soon as yer walk in the pub, and that will go down very quickly ’cos yer’ve all got a thirst. So the second round arrives, and after that no one will notice whether yer tie is maroon or sky blue pink with a finny haddy border. But at least I’ll know I sent yer out looking respectable.’ She gave him a peck on the cheek. ‘And yer’ll be the most handsome man there.’

  Jack grabbed her round the waist. ‘Seeing as our daughter is over at her mate’s, and you and me are alone with five minutes to spare, why don’t we put them to good use?’ He nuzzled her ear. ‘Molly Bennett, after all these years, yer can still send me pulses racing.’

  She slapped his hand. ‘Behave yerself. I’m expecting Nellie here any minute, and I can just imagine what she’d make of that.’ Molly grinned. ‘I can see her now, telling everyone from here to the Pier Head, and that includes the butcher, the baker and the candlestick maker, that when she called for me she caught you with yer pulses racing, and so filled with passion were yer that yer couldn’t help yerself, and yer threw me on to the couch and had yer wicked way with me. And knowing Nellie, she’d milk it for all it was worth. Like, she was so shocked she couldn’t move, her feet were stuck to the floor. And although she didn’t want to, being a sober religious woman what goes to church every Sunday, she was forced to stay and witness our mad, uncontrollable passion, until it reached its peak. And when yer desire was satisfied, yer just got up, fixed yer trousers, and went off to the pub without a word of apology to her. Oh, she’d have a ball, sunshine, and I’d never hear the end of it.’

  Molly spun round when she heard a tap on the living-room door. And standing there, with her face beaming and a look of devilment in her eyes, was Nellie. ‘If yer don’t want people to hear what ye’re saying, girl, then yer should make sure yer shut the front door properly.’

  ‘How long have yer been standing there?’ Molly asked, her face crimson. ‘And why didn’t yer knock on the front door instead of just walking in?’

  ‘If I’d done that, girl, I’d have missed the best part, wouldn’t I? I mean, I was wondering what I could do to entertain the ladies tonight, something different, like, and I walk in here and it’s handed to me on a plate.’

  Jack was longing to laugh, for Nellie’s face was a picture, but he knew he might land himself in trouble with Molly if he did, so he made his escape. ‘I’ll have to leave you two ladies, ’cos I’m late as it is.’

  Nellie winked at him as he passed. ‘If yer ears are burning, lad, yer’ll know it’s me what’s talking about yer.’

  Molly shook her fist. ‘Nellie McDonough, Jack never opened his mouth.’

  ‘No, I know that, girl, but he didn’t have to, ’cos you said enough for both of yer. And when I add my little bit, well, it should pass half an hour away and give the ladies a good laugh.’

  Molly knew from experience that the ladies would get a laugh, but she didn’t fancy being the butt of Nellie’s sense of humour. So she thought it was time to reverse the situation. ‘What are yer looking so smug about, sunshine? I was only repeating to Jack what you had told me. I don’t mind who yer tell; it’s got nothing to do with me.’

  Nellie came further into the room and stood in front of Molly. ‘Don’t be coming that with me, Molly Bennett. I know ye’re mad inside because I caught yer out, but it’s yer own fault for leaving yer front door open.’

  ‘I’m not worried about that, sunshine, although yer did give me a fright. I mean, not many people would walk in someone’s house without knocking. But with regards to yer wanting to tell the ladies what yer heard, then you do that and we’ll all have a good laugh. I remember what yer told me word for word, so if yer get stuck I can help yer out.’

  ‘Are you going soft in the head, girl? It was you what told Jack about pulses racing, and how he threw yer on the couch and had his way with yer. So just tell me where I come into this? And don’t be trying to change things round ’cos yer can’t fool me.’

  ‘Not for one second would I try and fool yer, sunshine, but I have to admit I did change one thing round. I said he threw me on the couch, but when you told me the tale, yer said on the bed, not the couch. Apart from that one word, though, the rest was just as yer told me. But when yer tell our mates tonight, I don’t care whether yer say bed or couch. Makes not a scrap of difference.’

  ‘Have yer lost yer marbles, girl?’ Nellie’s face was being pulled in every way imaginable. ‘I’ve never told you a tale like what I’ve just heard you telling Jack, so don’t be making me out to be doolally.’

  ‘Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear! Yer’ve got a short memory when it suits yer, sunshine. I can see yer as plain as day, sitting facing me, with yer elbows on the table and holding yer chin in yer hands. And yer were relishing every word as yer told me what you and George had been up to the night before. And I also remember I had to shut yer up because yer were going too far. I told yer I didn’t want to know what went on in yer bedroom.’

  There was no sign of a smile on Molly’s face, and she sounded so sincere Nellie was beginning to believe her. After all, Molly never mentioned what went on in her bedroom, and she was always saying she didn’t want to know about the shenanigans that went on in one a few doors away. ‘Yer’ve got me flummoxed, girl, and no mis
take. I mean, I know I do go on about me and George being passionate, but I only do it to see yer get worked up. But I can’t say I remember telling it like you told Jack, and I don’t remember any night when my feller threw me on the bed ’cos he’d got himself all worked up. The other way round, yeah, ’cos if I didn’t throw my feller on the bed, I’d never get me share of nuptials.’

  Molly scratched her head, looking thoughtful. ‘I don’t understand that, sunshine. What d’yer mean by saying yer’d never get yer nuptials?’

  ‘Well, yer know what I mean, girl. It’s when a man and woman are getting married and they’re standing in front of the altar, and the priest tells them they must love, honour and obey. And he also says something about honouring with yer body, which means whether yer husband feels like it or not, he’s bound to keep his wife happy in that department of their marriage. I think it’s something like conjukerler rights. Me and George often have words about it, ’cos he swears the priest never said no such thing. And, to add insult to injury, he says that even if the priest did say it, he can’t do anything about it ’cos he’s tired out. I should remember he’s been working all day while I spend the day sitting on me backside.’

  Molly turned her head slightly so her friend wouldn’t see her biting her lip to keep the laughter at bay. Wait until she told Jack that Nellie insisted upon getting her conjukerler rights. He’d split his sides. How Nellie came up with these words she’d never know, but it wouldn’t be the same if her friend spoke perfect English. ‘What does George say when yer tell him yer don’t just sit on yer backside all day?’