EG02 - Man of the House

by Joan Jonker

  ‘Whoops!’ Eileen watched Mary walk away, thinking how pretty she looked in her white summer dress, her long blonde hair bouncing on her shoulders. Then the big woman turned to wink at Harry. ‘Is your wife’s mind really as pure as the driven snow?’

  Harry tapped the side of his nose with a finger. ‘Ah, now, that would be telling tales out of school.’

  ‘Nanna!’ Tony shrieked as he ducked under Mary’s hand and slid from the chair. ‘Here’s Nanna and Granddad, Mummy.’

  Mary turned to see Harry’s mum and dad walking towards them. She watched with a smile on her face as Lizzie Sedgemoor scooped Tony up in her arms while her husband, George, waited for Emma to catch up with her brother then lifted her high in the air. Every time Mary saw them with the children she felt a deep sense of gratitude. Because although Emma wasn’t their real granddaughter, she was treated exactly the same as Tony. Never, by word or deed, had they shown any favouritism. And one of these days, when she could pluck up the courage, she’d tell them how grateful she was.

  ‘I’ve had jelly, Nanna.’ Tony’s sticky fingers were clutching her hair, but Lizzie Sedgemoor didn’t care. She loved the bones of him, and Emma. And although at the time there’d been blue murder between her and Harry when he’d told her he was going to marry Mary Bradshaw even though she was expecting another man’s child, Lizzie had never regretted having Mary for a daughter-in-law. She’d turned out to be a good wife to Harry, and as a mother she was second to none. Emma was a real little lady, well spoken and well behaved. But young Tony, now, was a very different kettle of fish. He was a little devil, always into mischief like Harry had been at his age.

  ‘We thought you might be here.’ George had to shout to make himself heard above the noise. ‘There’s a party in our street, but it’s not a patch on this one.’

  ‘That’s because Eileen Gillmoss doesn’t live in your street,’ Harry answered, nodding his head to where Eileen was standing beside Tommy Wilson, her face doing contortions as she belted out the words of ‘When Irish Eyes Are Smiling’. ‘Eileen could have a party on her own!’

  ‘Aye!’ Lizzie grinned. ‘You don’t get many like her in a pound!’ She kissed Tony before asking, ‘Will you go to Daddy, sweetheart, while I go and sing with Auntie Eileen?’

  ‘Well I’ll be blowed!’ George’s mouth gaped in amazement. ‘I haven’t heard Lizzie sing in a month of Sundays!’ He sat down on a chair with Emma on his lap. ‘Mind you, she had a fair singing voice when she was a girl.’ Harry’s mother was a well-built woman, but standing between Eileen and Cissie Maddox, their arms around each others shoulders, she looked quite slim. When they’d sung all the Irish songs they could think of, they started on the Scottish, their voices louder than the rest of the crowd put together.

  Maggie was sitting next to George, with Tony on her knee. Tired with all the excitement, the little boy had lost the fight to keep his eyes open and was fast asleep in the crook of her arm. Maggie looked over at Mary who was sitting on one of the tables, her legs swinging in time to the music. ‘Shall I put him on the couch for half an hour? He’ll never be able to sleep properly with all this racket.’

  ‘I’ll take him from you.’ Harry sprang to his feet. ‘When he wakes up we’ll have to make tracks home. We’ve left Mrs B. on her own long enough.’

  ‘It’s a pity Martha couldn’t be here to see this,’ George Sedgemoor said. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it in all me born days.’

  Harry took the sleeping child from Maggie and cradled him in his arms. ‘Yeh, but it’s not every day we win a war, is it, Dad?’

  ‘No, you’re right there, son!’

  ‘Ooh, me head’s splittin’!’ Eileen propped her chin on her hands. But even though she felt lousy, her sense of humour didn’t desert her. ‘And I wish yer’d stop swayin’ from side to side, Mam, yer makin’ me feel sea sick.’

  ‘Don’t come looking to me for sympathy.’ Maggie tried to look annoyed, but inside she couldn’t stop laughing. How come this daughter of hers could turn everything into a joke? You could never stay angry with her for long because she always came up with something funny. ‘Take a couple of aspirins and see if they help.’

  ‘Ain’t got none!’ Eileen faced her mother across the table. The party was still going strong outside, but when the Sedgemoors had left, Eileen decided she’d had enough. Her throat was sore and every bone in her body ached from the dancing. ‘It was some party though, Mam, wasn’t it?’

  ‘You can say that again!’ Maggie said. ‘And you certainly made the most of it, you made more noise than anybody.’

  ‘Well, considerin’ the size of me, I’d sound bloody funny with a little pip squeak voice, now wouldn’t I?’ Eileen laid her palms flat on the table and rested her head on them. ‘I’ll just calm down for a few minutes, then I’ll go an’ see what the kids are up to.’

  ‘The two girls are playing in the street, so leave them for a while and have a rest.’ Maggie intended getting the girls upstairs before their mother could see the state of their new dresses. They’d been crawling under the tables playing tag, and they were filthy. But if she washed them first thing in the morning, Eileen wouldn’t know any different. What the eye don’t see, the heart don’t grieve, Maggie thought. ‘Billy came back before, but you were too busy enjoying yourself to notice him. He wanted to go up to his mates again, and I said he could but to be back by nine o’clock.’

  ‘Cooo-eee.’ The sound brought Eileen’s head up. ‘Oh, Christ! It’s our Rene!’

  ‘Sshh, she’ll hear you.’ Maggie just had time to hiss before her younger daughter came in with her husband, Alan, and Victoria, their three-year-old daughter. It was hard to imagine that Rene was Eileen’s sister, they were so different in every way. Rene was small and slim, with dark brown hair that was always set in the latest style, and attractive green eyes. She was always well dressed and well spoken. As Eileen would, and did say, she spoke as though she had a plum in her mouth.

  ‘Hello, Mum.’ Rene kissed her mother, then her eyes went to Eileen. ‘You look a bit rough! Been out there enjoying yourself?’

  ‘Yer could say that!’ Eileen twisted in her chair. ‘Hello, Alan! Yer won’t mind if I don’t stand up, will yer? Yer see, I’d fall flat on me face if I attempted to.’

  ‘Hello, Auntie Eileen.’ Victoria stood by Eileen’s side, her young face wearing a serious expression. ‘We didn’t have a party in our road.’

  ‘That’s because yez live in a posh road, sweetheart.’ Eileen grinned. ‘It’s only common folk like us what know ’ow to enjoy themselves.’

  ‘Sit down and I’ll make a pot of tea,’ Maggie fussed. ‘I can’t offer you anything to eat because everything we had went towards the party.’

  ‘That’s all right, Mum, we’ve had something to eat.’ Rene sat in the chair Maggie had vacated. ‘Alan went in to work this morning, then we went to see his parents. We had a bite to eat there.’

  The chair croaked in protest as Eileen swivelled round to where Alan was sitting. She was very fond of Alan. He was well educated, his parents lived in a nice house in the posh part of Allerton, but he wasn’t a snob. Neither was he a coward. He’d been one of the first to join up, and because of his education he’d soon risen to the rank of Captain in the army. He was serving in the Middle East, under General Auchinleck, when he’d been wounded during the fighting, and his right arm had been so badly shattered he’d been shipped back to a hospital in England where his arm had been amputated. Everyone thought it would be the end of Alan’s working life, but with much patience, and enduring a lot of pain, he’d proved them wrong. He’d had an artificial arm fitted, and the army had kept him on, giving him a desk job in the Ministry of Defence office in Liverpool. He was a handsome man, tall with blond hair, bright blue eyes and a ready smile.

  ‘How’s yer mum and dad, Alan?’ Eileen hiccupped, and would have fallen off the chair if she hadn’t grabbed the edge of the table. God, she felt terrible. The room was spinning round, and Ala
n with it. But she made a valiant effort. ‘I bet they’re over the moon, now the war’s over.’

  Alan could see Eileen’s face was growing greener by the minute, and she was swaying dangerously on the chair. ‘Mum and Dad are fine.’ He winked across at Rene before saying softly, ‘Why don’t you go and lie down for half an hour? You’d feel much better after a rest.’

  ‘Yes, come on, our kid!’ Rene moved round the table and took hold of Eileen’s arm. ‘I’ll give you a hand.’

  Eileen was in no state to argue. Lumbering to her feet, and guided rather than supported by Rene, she staggered to the door. Holding on to the frame like grim death, she turned to Alan. ‘I’m sorry about this, Alan.’ The three hiccups came in quick succession and were followed by a sly grin. ‘Right now I might not know me arse from me elbow, but somewhere in this drunken brain of mine, I do know this is the happiest day of me bloody life!’

  ‘Well, thank God for that.’ Maggie flopped down on one of the chairs by the table and gave out a long sigh. Joan and Edna had been in and she’d taken their new dresses off and put them in the sink to steep. Dressed in their school gymslips, they’d gone out to play again, taking Victoria with them. ‘That’s one load off me mind! If our Eileen had seen their new dresses, she’d have had a fit.’

  ‘What beats me,’ Rene said, ‘is how anyone thinks the more they drink the more they should enjoy themselves! It’s ridiculous to get in the state our Eileen’s in!’

  ‘She’s the one who’ll suffer, not us!’ Maggie was quick to defend Eileen. She might criticise her daughter herself, but she wasn’t having anyone else do it. ‘Anyway, who can blame her? She’s not seen her husband for five years, and doesn’t know how he is except that he’s in some prisoner of war camp in Germany!’ Maggie shook her head. ‘She’s had to work hard for the last five years, has our Eileen! What with the kids to look after and going out to work! I don’t know how she’s kept up! And even if she has had too much to drink, I certainly don’t begrudge her wanting to show how happy she is.’

  ‘Mam, I don’t begrudge our kid anythin’.’ Rene’s posh voice had gone, and her broad Liverpool accent back. ‘Our Eileen is one in a million, an’ I wouldn’t ’ave her any different.’ Her green eyes travelled to Alan. ‘She was a pillar of strength when I needed her, and I’ll never forget it.’

  ‘Eileen’s strength is her downfall,’ Alan said quietly. ‘Because she’s always laughing and joking, everyone thinks she doesn’t have a care in the world. She keeps her troubles to herself.’

  Maggie made a fresh pot of tea, then, as they sat round the table, she told them of Eileen’s secret savings. ‘You could have knocked me over with a feather! You know what she’s usually like with money, it comes in one hand and goes out the other!’

  ‘Me and Alan have just been talking about the state of this place,’ Rene said as she looked round the room. Apart from the old, scuffed furniture, there were rips in the wallpaper where the kids had been allowed to play toss the ball, there were dirty hand marks on the walls and woodwork, and the lino was torn in several places. ‘She could do with throwing the whole lot out and starting from scratch.’

  ‘That’s just what she’s going to do.’ Maggie thrust her bust out proudly. ‘Harry Sedgemoor’s promised to give her a hand to decorate the whole house. I only hope they can get it all done before Bill comes home.’

  ‘I’ll come and give a hand,’ Rene said quickly. ‘I can paper quicker than our kid. Between the three of us, we’ll get through the house in no time.’

  ‘And Mary’s coming,’ Maggie told her. ‘She can trim the paper and that’ll save time.’

  Alan was listening with frustration. It was at a time like this he cursed his disability. ‘I’m sorry I can’t offer to help,’ he said quietly. ‘But I can mind Victoria, and you could send Joan and Edna down. You’ll get more done without the children under your feet.’

  ‘Thank you, darling!’ There was deep love in Rene’s eyes. Only she knew what the war had cost her husband. A stranger seeing him sitting there now would think he was perfectly fit and well. It would only be after they’d been in his company for a while, they’d notice his right arm hanging useless by his side, a glove covering the artificial hand. ‘That would be a big help, wouldn’t it, Mam?’

  Maggie grimaced. ‘You don’t know what you’re letting yourself in for, son! Those two girls are holy terrors! Honestly, they’d make a saint swear!’

  ‘Don’t worry about me, I can cope,’ Alan assured her. ‘I’ll put them in detention if they get out of hand.’

  ‘You’d be better off putting yourself in detention and throwing away the key,’ Maggie said dryly. ‘I’d rather do a day’s work down a coal mine than mind those two. So, while they’re driving you to distraction, just remember that you were warned.’

  Chapter Four

  The bus drew up outside the munitions factory and as workers lined the aisle ready to get off, Eileen rubbed her sleeve over the steamed-up window and peered out. ‘It’s still there, Florrie,’ she muttered to the woman sitting next to her. ‘I thought it might ’ave disappeared over the last few days.’

  Florrie stood up, glad the journey was over. Sitting next to Eileen Gillmoss had its compensations, but it also had its draw backs. You were always sure of a good laugh, but with the big woman taking up three quarters of the seat the journey was pure purgatory. The one cheek of her backside that had managed to stay on the seat was numb, and Florrie rubbed hard to bring back the circulation. ‘I’ll be glad when my feller’s home and I can pack in work.’

  ‘Yer not the only one, Florrie.’ Eileen stepped from the bus and joined the afternoon shift workers making their way through the gate. She held her pass up for the security guard and gave him a wide grin. ‘No need for gas masks today, Joe!’

  ‘What?’ Joe kept his face straight. ‘I thought you had yours on!’

  ‘Yer cheeky swine!’ Eileen shook a fat fist. ‘I’ve a good mind to come over there and sort you out.’

  ‘Is that a threat or a promise?’ Joe called after Eileen’s retreating back. ‘If it’s a promise, I’ll take you up on it.’

  Eileen turned and walked back a few paces. Placing her bag on the ground, she squared her shoulders, thrusting her enormous bust out. With her hips swaying seductively, she patted her hair with one hand and did a very passable impersonation of Mae West. ‘Why don’t you come up and see me sometime, big boy, and I’ll show you my etchings?’

  For a few seconds Eileen shared Joe’s laughter, then she hurried to clock on before making her way to the cloakroom. A smile still on her face, she pushed the door open. ‘Did yez hear that …’ The words died as Eileen noted the women who had been laughing and joking on the bus just a few minutes earlier were now standing quiet, a look of shocked horror on their faces. ‘What’s wrong?’

  It was Maisie Phillips who answered. ‘You know Isobel, who works in Mr Burton’s office? Well we’ve just heard her husband’s ship was blown up and there were no survivors.’

  Eileen’s mouth gaped. She’d thought the days of the dreaded telegram were over. ‘But I thought there was no more fightin’ now the war’s over!’ She gazed around the faces of the women. ‘Are yez sure?’

  ‘It happened the day before Germany surrendered,’ Maisie told her. ‘Isobel got a telegram on VE day.’

  ‘Oh, my God! The poor kid!’ The full implication hit Eileen. ‘They only got married on his last leave, didn’t they?’

  Ethel Hignet came and stood beside Maisie, linking her arm. ‘Yeah! They got married six months ago.’

  ‘Bloody hell!’ Eileen pinched the bridge of her nose, suddenly feeling very frightened. What would I do if they told me Bill was dead, she asked herself. The answer came quickly. Stick me head in the bloody gas oven! After changing into their overalls and tying on their turbans, the women left the cloakroom to take over from the morning shift. The news about Isobel’s husband had spread like wildfire, and the mind of every woman standing beside
the conveyors in the shell inspection shop was on the pretty young woman who was now a widow after only six months of marriage. In fact, all she’d known of married life was the two weeks leave her husband had been given from his ship to get married.

  Eileen looked across the conveyor and gave a pale smile to Jean Simpson who worked the other side of the machine. Jean had been put with Eileen when Mary had left to get married, and although that was over three years ago, Eileen still missed seeing Mary’s pretty face opposite her. Not that Jean wasn’t pretty, but she’d look a damn sight better if she didn’t plaster her make-up on so thick. Sometimes Eileen thought she must have put it on with a trowel!

  A smile crossed Eileen’s face. She’d pulled Jean’s leg unmercifully over the last three years about the American she was going out with. Told her he probably had a wife and six kids back in the States. His name was Ivan, he was a dentist, and in the three years he’d been stationed in the old Merton Hotel in Stanley Road, had risen to the rank of Major. Jean didn’t half swank about him at first, until Eileen told her to belt up ’cos she was sick of hearing his name. Then she met him one day when he’d come to pick Jean up and was waiting outside the factory gates in a jeep. And he was so friendly it was impossible not to like him. He was very generous, always sending some luxury in for Eileen that you couldn’t buy in the shops. But in spite of that, Eileen still harboured the thought that he had a wife back in the States and was only using Jean.

  But two weeks ago Eileen had had her eye wiped and Jean the last laugh when she’d come into work flashing an ‘I told you so’ smile and a large diamond engagement ring on her finger.

  ‘How are you fixed for Saturday?’ Harry had sneaked up behind Eileen and grinned when she jumped.

  ‘Christ, Harry! Yer frightened the livin’ daylights out of me!’ Eileen put a hand to her heart. ‘I nearly jumped out of me skin!’

  ‘Go on, you were miles away!’ Harry leaned against the conveyor. ‘I managed to get some wallpaper and paint, so we can make a start on Saturday if you like.’