EG02 - Man of the House

by Joan Jonker

  ‘Where’s my two god-children?’ Eileen asked.

  ‘I’ve left them with Harry.’ Mary turned to Bill and pulled a face. ‘They’re just at the age when they’re in to everything and won’t sit still for five minutes.’

  ‘Yer didn’t know I was a god-mother, did yer?’ Eileen pulled her tongue out at Bill. ‘Twice over!’

  Maggie’s head reappeared. ‘Hello, Mary, love! Will you tell your friend to give her mouth a rest, and come and see to this tea? There’s no bottom left in the kettle.’

  ‘Ay, missus! Who was yer servant before I came along?’ Eileen grinned mischievously. ‘Thinks she’s Lady Muck, my mother, yer know! She needs takin’ down a peg or two.’

  ‘It’ll take a better man than you, Gunga Din!’ Maggie called out. ‘I might be small, but you know what they say … there’s “good stuff in little parcels”.’

  ‘Aye, and poison!’ Eileen winked broadly before swaying her way to the kitchen. ‘Either yer gettin’ too big for yer boots, missus, or yer’ve been at the Stout again!’

  Rummaging in the kitchen cupboard to find a saucer to match the only china cup she could find that didn’t have a crack in it, Eileen muttered, ‘Just wait till I come up on the pools! I’ll be down to T.Js like a streak of lightnin’ to buy meself a lovely tea set with flowers on it. And we’ll ’ave to learn to stick our little fingers out when we’re drinkin’, just like the posh people do! I won’t call the King me Aunt, then!’

  Maggie tapped her shoulder. ‘Bill seems to be getting on all right with Mary, they’re talking away to each other.’

  ‘She’s just right for Bill, Mam! Nice and quiet.’ Eileen stood up holding a saucer aloft triumphantly. ‘I knew we ’ad one somewhere!’

  When Eileen carried the tray through, Mary was telling Bill about how her mother had coped since she’d had the stroke during an air raid. ‘She’s been marvellous, hasn’t she, Eileen? You should see how she gets around the house on her crutches!’

  ‘When yer feelin’ better, Bill, we’ll go up an’ see Mrs B! An’ yer can see the posh ’ouse me friend lives in!’

  Mary blushed. ‘Take no notice of her, Bill! It’s not posh at all!’

  ‘Then I’ll swap yer for this one!’ Eileen grinned. ‘We could do with a bigger ’ouse with our gang!’

  ‘I’ve told Bill I’ll call in with the children one afternoon,’ Mary said. ‘Is that all right?’

  Eileen didn’t need to say thank you, it was written in her eyes. This was just what Bill needed, another step in the long journey back to normality. ‘It’ll ’ave to be in the next day or two, ’cos I’m on afternoon shift next week. Unless, of course, yer want to come when yer’ve got Bill on ’is own!’

  ‘Honestly, your wife is past the post, Bill!’ Mary turned her shy smile on him. ‘She never takes anything seriously.’

  Bill met Eileen’s eyes, both thinking of the secret they shared. ‘Oh, she can be serious when she likes!’ He brought his gaze back to Mary. ‘Not very often, I admit, but she does have her moments!’

  ‘Bring the kids tomorrow,’ Eileen said suddenly. ‘I ’aven’t seen them meself for ages.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘’Course I’m sure! Yer’d like that, wouldn’t yer, Bill?’

  Bill nodded, surprised to find that he wasn’t just agreeing to please Eileen. Then he realised why. For the last hour his head had been free of the memories that had been haunting him day and night. For while Mary had been telling him about her children, he’d found himself going back in time to when his own children had been little. This house used to ring with the sound of laughter then, and he’d been part of it.

  ‘Yes, I would like that,’ Bill smiled. ‘Come tomorrow, Mary!’

  ‘Honestly, I couldn’t believe it!’ The children were in bed when Mary got home, and now she was sitting telling Harry and her mother about her visit to Eileen’s. ‘He looks terrible! You could take him for Eileen’s father, he looks so old!’

  ‘Poor Eileen, she must be worried to death.’ Martha rocked back and forth in her chair. ‘And there’s nothing we can do to help!’

  ‘Yes there is, Mrs B!’ Harry said. ‘We can be there if she needs us, and give her all the backing we can.’

  ‘She’s asked me to take the children up tomorrow.’ Mary played with a stray curl that had fallen on her cheek. ‘Apart from Rene and Alan, they’ve had no visitors because Bill said he didn’t want anyone in the house.’

  ‘I’ll come with you.’ Harry stretched his long legs out. ‘You’ll need help getting on and off the buses with the children.’

  ‘No, Harry!’ Mary shook her head. ‘When Eileen came to the door with me, she said she thought it best to take things one step at a time with Bill. She’s frightened if she tries to rush him, it will do more harm than good.’ Harry went to object, but Mary put her foot down. ‘Harry, if you saw him you’d understand! He went through hell in the prisoner of war camp, and believe me, you can see it written all over him! So, I’ll go on me own tomorrow with the kids, and just stay half-an-hour in case it’s too much for him.’

  ‘Mary’s right, son!’ Martha shook her head sadly. ‘I remember men coming back from the first world war like that. It took years for some of them to get over it, and they were the lucky ones. There were thousands who never recovered.’

  ‘It’s a good job Eileen’s strong,’ Mary voiced her thoughts, ‘and got a good sense of humour! She was laughing and joking this afternoon, but how she managed it I’ll never know, because her heart must break every time she looks at Bill.’

  ‘Eileen has a natural sense of humour, but there are times she uses it as a shield to hide her worries.’ Harry felt angry because he didn’t have it in his power to help the one person who always found time to listen to people’s troubles and hold out a helping hand. ‘I just wish there was something we could do.’

  ‘There may be, Harry! Perhaps when Bill picks up a bit, and feels like going out, you can take him for a pint.’ Mary knew how Harry felt about Eileen because she felt that way herself. But, as Eileen had said, one step at a time.

  Joan and Edna ran up the street laughing and pushing each other boisterously. But when they reached their front door their laughter died down. They’d been warned by their mother to behave themselves, no shouting and screaming ’cos it gave their dad a headache. So it was two very subdued girls who entered the house, with the unspoken agreement to change out of their gymslips as quick as they could and escape back into the street to play.

  ‘Hello, Dad!’ They could hear their mother talking to their nan in the kitchen, so they turned to go upstairs. But the sound of their dad’s voice stopped them in their tracks.

  ‘How did school go today, girls?’

  They spun round, surprise written on their faces. ‘It was all right, Dad!’ Joan was the first to recover, then Edna ventured. ‘I came fourth in arithmetic, Dad!’

  ‘That’s good! Keep that up, and you’ll get yourself a good job when you leave school.’

  Not to be outdone by her sister, Joan told him, ‘I’m next to top in our class.’ She was thoughtful for a second, then decided that she was stretching the truth a little too far. ‘I’m not very good at history or geography, though!’

  ‘English and arithmetic are the subjects to concentrate on. They’re the ones you’ll need to be good at to get a decent job.’

  ‘Yes, Dad!’ Edna kicked Joan’s shin, and the action wasn’t lost on Bill. They wanted to go out and play, to get out of the house, and it saddened him that he was to blame. He was their father, but he’d made himself a stranger to them. If he wasn’t careful, he’d alienate them forever.

  ‘You can play out till the tea’s ready, if you like.’

  ‘Ooh, thanks, Dad.’

  The noise they made scrambling up the stairs brought Eileen hurrying from the kitchen. ‘What are those two monkeys up to?’

  ‘It’s all right! I told them they could go out to play.’

  ‘I did
n’t ’ear them come in!’ Eileen’s eyes narrowed. ‘Have they been givin’ yer cheek?’

  ‘No!’ Bill shifted sideways to get to the packet of cigarettes in his trouser pocket. ‘As a matter of fact, I’ve just learned that both my daughters are doing quite well at school!’

  ‘If yer believe that, yer’ll believe anythin’!’ When she saw Bill’s eyebrows shoot up, Eileen’s cheeks moved upwards in a smile. ‘I’m only jokin’, Bill! They can be little bug …’ Eileen hesitated, seeking another word that would describe her daughters and not bring a frown to Bill’s face, ‘little horrors, when they like, but they’re all there! Our Joan takes her school work very serious, but she’s not as quick as Edna. That one will leave us all standin’. She can add up a grocery bill while I’m still on the first item, an’ she’s only ten.’

  Eileen picked a stray hair off her dress. ‘I’d better get goin’ on the tea. Our Billy will be ’ome soon, an’ he wants to go to the first house at the Astoria to see William Powell and Myrna Loy. His mate’s mother is going to take them in.’

  ‘He starts work next Monday, doesn’t he?’

  ‘Yep! He’s got to work a week in ‘and, but I can’t wait to see ’is face when ’e brings ’is first wage packet home! There’ll be no stopping ’im then! He’ll be struttin’ round like King Tut, an’ the ’ouse won’t be big enough to ’old ’im!’

  Eileen disappeared into the kitchen only to reappear with her face stretched in a cheeky grin. ‘I was goin’ to say the girls were little buggers, but I thought you wouldn’t appreciate a woman of my standin’ usin’ swear words.’

  Eileen wheeled around before Bill could answer, but had she stayed she would have seen a gleam of humour in his eyes.

  Chapter Thirteen

  ‘Say “hello” to yer Uncle Bill!’ There was pride on Eileen’s face as she urged her two godchildren forward. ‘Shake ’ands, an’ show ’im how clever yez are!’

  Two pairs of eyes, one vivid blue, the other deep brown, gazed at Bill. They hung back at first, shy of the strange man. But with the gentle pressure of Eileen’s hand on their shoulders Emma held her hand out. ‘How do you do, Uncle Bill?’

  ‘I’m fine, thank you, Emma!’ Bill clasped the tiny hand, smiling at the grown-up words and the serious expression on the pretty face. ‘Auntie Eileen has told me all about you.’

  Bearing in mind what their mother had told them about being on their best behaviour, Emma touched her brother’s arm. ‘And this is my little brother, Tony.’

  ‘Have you been sick?’ Tony blurted out, his curiosity too strong to heed his mother’s warning, and too young to understand that this was one question that shouldn’t be asked. ‘My mummy said you have, and she said we must be good and not make any noise.’

  Eileen let out a peal of laughter when she saw the colour rise on Mary’s face. ‘Out of the mouths of babes! They’d get yer hung, wouldn’t they, kid?’

  ‘I have been sick,’ Bill kept his face straight, ‘but I’m getting better now.’

  ‘We could kiss you better, couldn’t we, Mummy?’ Tony’s eager face looked at Mary. ‘Like you do when we’re sick!’

  Mary nodded. ‘That’s a good idea, sweetheart!’

  Immediately two pairs of arms went round Bill’s neck and he was smothered in kisses. ‘There now,’ Emma pursed her rosebud mouth and nodded knowingly as she did when playing a game of pretend with one of her dolls, ‘you’ll soon be better.’

  Bill’s eyes were moist. ‘You know, I feel better already!’

  Eileen lifted the children, one in each arm, and swung them round. ‘A pair of crackers, yez are!’ She lowered them on to the couch and began to tickle their tummies. Soon the house was ringing with shrieks of childish laughter and all Mary’s good intentions flew out of the window.

  It was Mary who noticed Bill become quieter, his face more drawn. They’d been there an hour, and he’d kept up with the talk and the laughter. But now he looked tired. ‘Come on, it’s time to go.’ Mary lifted her hand to stop the children’s protests. ‘We’ve got to get home and make the tea for Daddy and Grandma.’

  ‘Can we come tomorrow?’ Emma pleaded.

  ‘Not tomorrow, but we’ll come again soon,’ Mary promised, with a smile at Bill, ‘that’s if you can put up with us?’

  ‘I’ll look forward to it.’ Bill had enjoyed their company, but for the last ten minutes it had been an effort and he was feeling drained. He watched Eileen follow Mary and the children out of the room before closing his eyes and letting his head fall back against the chair.

  ‘I think we’ve tired Bill out.’ Mary looked at Eileen who was standing on the step. ‘I hope we haven’t overdone it.’

  ‘He’ll be all right, kid! He does get tired quickly, but believe me he’s a lot better than ’e was! I’m feedin’ ’im up as much as I can, but it’s hopeless with the rationing!’ Eileen’s eyes rolled. ‘Half a pound of shin beef to make a pan of scouse for six of us! Now I ask yer, kid, what good is that? Talk about blind scouse isn’t in it!’

  Mary was facing down the street and was the first to see Joan and Edna running towards them. ‘Here’s your family!’

  ‘Oh, God!’ Eileen groaned. ‘Yer don’t want to adopt two girls, do yer, kid? Yer can ’ave ’em cheap! They’re young an’ healthy, can go yer messages for yer … an’ they’re bloody cheeky into the bargain!’

  ‘Go way with you,’ Mary smiled. ‘You love the bones of them!’

  ‘Oh, I love the bones of them, all right,’ Eileen’s cheeky grin appeared, ‘it’s the rest of them I can’t stand!’

  ‘Aah, yer not goin’, are yez?’ Joan was breathless. ‘Stay for a bit longer, Auntie Mary!’

  ‘Yeah, go on!’ Edna added her weight. ‘We can play with Emma and Tony!’

  ‘Never mind playin’!’ Eileen waved her arm up the street. ‘Yez can just run up to Mrs Knight’s for us, and get a large tin loaf.’

  ‘Ah, ay, Mam!’ There was a petulant droop to Edna’s mouth, ‘we’ve only just got ’ome!’

  ‘An’ if yez don’t do as yer told, yez’ll just be goin’ up to bed!’ Eileen pointed a finger. ‘Now go!’

  As she watched the four twig-like legs running up the street, Eileen grinned. ‘Poor buggers! Fancy bein’ lumbered with a mother like me!’ Too late she remembered Emma and Tony. ‘Here y’are, Emma, give Auntie Eileen a smack for bein’ naughty and usin’ bad words.’ She held out her hand. ‘Go on, smack me! You too, Tony!’

  The two laughing children took it in turns to punish their Auntie, then Mary firmly took their hands and turned them towards home.

  Eileen was in the kitchen when Edna ran in, plonked the tin loaf on the drainer and ran out again. Shaking her head and thinking it was no wonder the girls were so thin when they did everything on the run, Eileen dried her hands before picking up the loaf. It was then she noticed the large chunk missing from the end. ‘The little flamer’s ’ad a bit out of it!’ Loaf in hand, Eileen marched through the living room, down the hall, and into the street. ‘Hey!’ Holding the loaf aloft, Eileen called to Edna who was playing skipping rope with one of Cissie Maddox’s girls. ‘Come ’ere!’

  Her head bowed, Edna came forward slowly. ‘D’yer want me, Mam?’

  Eileen thrust the loaf under her nose. ‘What’s the meaning of this?’

  ‘I didn’t do that, Mam!’

  ‘Oh, a piece of bread just dropped off, did it?’ Eileen thundered. ‘How many times do I ’ave to tell yer about takin’ bites out of the bread?’

  ‘I didn’t do it, Mam! Honest I didn’t!’ Edna made a cross on her chest. ‘Cross my heart an’ hope to die!’

  Eileen had to bite the inside of her mouth to keep back a smile. This one put Bette Davis in the shade for acting. ‘If you didn’t do it, then who did, eh?’

  Her lips trembling, Edna was torn. If she snitched on Joan she’d get a smack, but if she didn’t she’d get a bigger one from her mother. In the end she decided this was no time for bravery. ‘It was
our Joan, Mam! I told ’er yer’d shout!’

  ‘Where is she?’

  ‘In the entry, Mam! She’s playin’ with Mary Cooper.’

  ‘Tell ’er I want ’er … now!’

  Eileen leaned back against the wall, the loaf hidden behind her back. It was no good going back in the house and upsetting Bill. She’d sort it out here, and there’d be no need for him to know. As she waited, Eileen remembered the number of times she’d had a hiding off her mam for doing exactly what she was going to tell her kids off for! Still, she couldn’t let them get away with it! If she did, they’d eat half the blinking loaf next time!

  ‘Clat tale tit!’ Joan was shaking her sister by the arm when they emerged from the entry. ‘Yer little sneak!’

  ‘Eh! Cut that out!’

  When Joan heard her mother’s voice she dropped Edna’s arm as if it was a red hot poker. ‘She’s tellin’ lies, Mam! I didn’t bite the loaf, a piece came off in me ’and!’

  ‘Oh?’ Eileen raised her brows. ‘An’ what happened to the piece, might I ask?’

  Taken back by the unexpected question, Joan stuttered, ‘It … it … fell on the ground.’

  ‘Joan,’ Eileen grimaced. ‘Even next door’s cat could ’ave come up with a better excuse than that! Anyroad, yez can both go up to yer bedroom an’ stay there till the tea’s ready.’

  ‘Ah, ay, Mam!’ Edna protested, ‘that’s not fair! I ’aven’t done nothin’!’

  ‘Yes, yer ’ave, our Edna!’ Joan wasn’t going to suffer alone. ‘She got the cane in school today, Mam, for bein’ naughty!’

  ‘Oh, no, not again! What did yer do this time, yer little madam?’

  Eyes down, foot kicking at a raised flagstone, Edna whispered, ‘I only did it as a dare, Mam! I didn’t mean for Miss Wright to sit on it!’

  ‘Sit on what?’

  There was silence for a moment, then a squeaky voice said, ‘A drawing pin.’

  Eileen was flabbergasted. ‘Yer mean yer put a drawing pin on Miss Wright’s chair?’

  Tears were running down Edna’s face. It was bad enough that the whole class had clatted on her, but for her own sister to give her away was the last straw.