EG02 - Man of the House

by Joan Jonker

  Eileen looked up at the sky. ‘What, dear Lord, have I ever done to deserve these two little faggots?’ Then, with a menacing look on her face, she roared, ‘Up the stairs with both of yez, and not a sound or I’ll tell yer dad what yer’ve been up to, an’ then yer’ll know what for!’

  Eileen didn’t have to say it twice. She followed them down the hall and watched them pushing each other to be first up the stairs. Bony elbows were dug into ribs, and arms were pinched as they whispered accusations of ‘sneak’ and ‘clat tale tit’. Eileen waited for the closing of their bedroom door before moving. They were probably battering each other up there, but by tea time they’d be as thick as thieves again.

  Eileen held the loaf at her side, out of sight of Bill, as she walked through the living room. Her mother was in the kitchen rinsing a few clothes through in the sink.

  Maggie eyed the loaf. ‘Been up to the shops, have you?’

  Eileen shook her head. ‘No, but I’ll ’ave to slip up later to settle up with Milly. I ’aven’t paid her for a week, so I must owe ’er a fortune!’

  Eileen weighed her mother up. Should she tell her, or not? Yeah, why not! They could do with a laugh!

  ‘Mam,’ Eileen pointed to where the cob was missing from the loaf, ‘would you say they were teeth marks?’

  Maggie squinted. ‘Look like it to me … why?’

  Eileen quickly gave an account of the last ten minutes. And by the time she had finished, her huge tummy, her enormous bust, and her layers of chins were wobbling up and down as her body rocked with laughter. Sucking in air, she croaked, ‘What makes it so funny, is that Miss Wright’s got a bigger backside than me! An’ I’m bloody sure that if I sat on a drawing pin, I wouldn’t feel a thing!’

  Maggie tried to keep her face straight, but couldn’t. It was such a long time since she’d seen her daughter laughing so heartily, she wasn’t going to spoil it by reminding her that although what Edna had done might seem funny, it really was very naughty. She waited till Eileen’s bout of laughing eased before asking, ‘I wonder who they take after?’

  Eileen’s eyes were lost in the folds of flesh. ‘Oh, I know, Mam! I was ten times worse than them when I was their age! But the funny thing is, I can’t remember you seein’ the funny side, like I do!’

  ‘Funny! Did you say funny?’ Maggie smoothed her pinny before putting her hands on her hips and glaring at Eileen. ‘I suppose you think I should have laughed when Mrs Porter found you bathing their cat in their kitchen sink … nearly drowning the poor thing? And when you pushed Alice Jones in the lake at Walton Park and left her to walk home, all on her own, dripping wet, I suppose I should have been splitting me sides laughing!’

  ‘Gerroff yer high horse, Mam, I was only jokin’!’ Eileen breathed in deeply and held her tummy to stem the laughter, but to no avail. Bending double, she gasped. ‘Yer’ve left the best one out! Have yer forgotten the time I put some of yer Andrews Liver Salts in our Rene’s tea, ’cos she snitched on me?’

  Maggie gave up. Memories flooded back, and her laughter was louder than Eileen’s. ‘I’d forgotten about that!’

  ‘I’m glad our Rene ’as, or she wouldn’t be speakin’ to me yet!’ Eileen held on to the sink, gasping for breath. ‘She was sittin’ on the lavvy for a whole week!’

  ‘So would you, after two teaspoonsful of Andrews!’ Maggie wiped her eyes with the corner of her pinny. ‘You’re only supposed to take enough to cover a sixpence!’

  They both jumped when Bill appeared in the doorway. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Bill, your wife has definitely got a screw loose!’ Maggie fought hard against the rising tide of laughter. ‘She needs certifying!’

  ‘What’s she been saying now?’ Bill wanted to know.

  Eileen could hear the wireless in the background. It was Henry Hall’s band playing their signature tune, Here’s To The Next Time, and this brought forth a fresh burst of giggles. ‘Can yer hear what they’re playin’, Mam? Appropriate, eh?’

  ‘Oh, take her in, Bill, for heaven’s sake! I’ll never get me washing done at this rate!’ Maggie dipped her hands in the soapy water. ‘She’s worse than the flippin’ kids!’

  ‘I came out to say there’s a knock at the door.’ Bill looked at Eileen. ‘Will you answer it, chick?’

  ‘Okay, love!’ Eileen gave her mother a dig as she passed. ‘It might be Miss Wright, bringin’ the drawin’ pin back!’

  Eileen’s smile disappeared when she opened the door and saw the man standing on the step. He was wearing a navy pin-stripe suit, and the brim of his trilby hat was pulled low over his eyes. ‘Arthur!’

  Arthur Kennedy saw Eileen’s red-rimmed eyes and blotchy face, and stepped back. ‘Have I come at an inconvenient time?’

  Eileen looked puzzled. ‘No! Why?’

  ‘You look as though you’ve been crying!’

  ‘Nah! I always cry when I laugh!’ Eileen held the door. ‘Don’t be standin’ on the step, come on in!’

  As she walked back down the hall, Eileen was praying. Please God, let Bill be all right with him!

  ‘Look what the wind’s blown in!’ Eileen entered the room first. ‘It’s Arthur Kennedy come to see yer!’

  Arthur stood awkwardly in front of Bill. ‘I thought I’d call and see how you’re getting on, Mr Gillmoss! How are you?’

  Bill took the outstretched hand. ‘So-so, you know! And what about you?’

  Eileen turned a chair from the table. ‘Sit down, Arthur! And never mind the mister business … his name’s Bill!’

  Eileen hovered as Arthur placed his trilby on the table before sitting down. If she stayed around, Bill would never open up. It would be better if she made herself scarce and left the two men together for a while. ‘I’m just slipping up to the corner shop, so I’ll leave you two to have a chin-wag. I’ll get me purse, then leave yez in peace.’

  Maggie had peeped through a crack in the door to see who their visitor was, now she looked at Eileen with curiosity written all over her face. ‘Who’s that?’

  ‘I’ll tell yer all about it later!’ Eileen took her purse from the cabinet drawer. ‘I’m goin’ up to Milly’s to pay me bill, but I’ll be back to make them a cup of tea. In the meantime, don’t go in the livin’ room, Mam, please! Let the men be on their own for a while.’

  Leaving her mother more curious than ever, Eileen slipped into the yard, then made her way up the entry to the corner shop.

  Chapter Fourteen

  ‘Hiya, Milly!’ Eileen rested her elbows on the shop counter. ‘How goes it, me old cock sparrer?’

  ‘Well, you’re a stranger!’ Milly was serving at the far end of the counter and she signalled to Eileen to hang on while she showed her customer that the fragile gas mantle in the little box was intact. If she didn’t, and they broke it on the way home, they’d be back saying it was broken when she’d sold it to them! She’d been done too many times to fall for that one! She took the twopence, rang it in the till, then waved goodbye to the customer.

  ‘I didn’t think any of the ’ouses round ’ere still had gas light,’ Eileen said. ‘I thought they were all leccy!’

  ‘No, there’s still a few only got gas.’ Milly Knight didn’t seem to have aged a day since the war started. She was a big woman, almost as big as Eileen, but her figure was well corseted and always looked trim. There was no sign of grey in her neatly waved, dark hair, and not a line on the round, happy face. And yet she worked harder than anyone! The shop opened at six in the morning and didn’t close until ten at night. And that went on for seven days a week. There were some nights when Milly crawled into bed around midnight thinking she just couldn’t carry on another day, but at six o’clock the next morning Milly would be behind the counter again, and still with a smile on her face for the early customers who called in on their way to work for a morning paper or a packet of cigarettes. She tried to give each customer a bit extra on their ration book, but it wasn’t always possible to please everyone and it grieved Milly to have
to refuse.

  It hadn’t been so bad when she and her husband worked it together, but when he was called up Milly only had a couple of part timers to help.

  It was a busy little shop, too, and kept her on the go all the time. Mind you, she stocked everything under the sun. Firewood, paraffin, hair nets, milk, potatoes, bread, babies’ dummies … you name it, and Milly Knight sold it. It was a homely, happy shop, and Eileen felt like one of the Bisto kids every time she went in … sniffing in all the different smells.

  ‘It’s ages since I’ve seen you,’ Milly said, ‘I was beginning to think you’d fallen out with me!’

  ‘The last few weeks ’aven’t been the best in me life, Milly!’ It was funny, but Eileen could talk to Milly where she couldn’t talk to others. ‘My Bill came ’ome in a terrible state! I’ve been nearly out of me mind worryin’ about ’im!’

  Milly didn’t say that Maggie had already told her all about Bill. One thing about Milly Knight, she never repeated anything anyone told her in confidence. ‘How is he now?’

  Eileen crossed her two fingers. ‘I’m keepin’ these crossed an’ hopin’ for the best! That’s all I can do!’ Eileen considered for a while, then decided she had to talk to someone. So the whole lot poured out, even the visit to Arthur Kennedy’s, and as it did, Milly prayed no customers would walk in. She knew how important it was for Eileen to get it all off her chest. What she didn’t know was that Eileen was keeping one secret back. A secret only to be shared with her husband.

  Eileen ended by telling Milly that right now, Arthur Kennedy was sitting in their living room. ‘I only ’ope he can get through to Bill! Bein’ man to man, it might be just what Bill needs.’

  ‘It’ll take time, Eileen. You can’t expect him to go through what he did and come home and forget all about it.’

  ‘I know.’ Eileen screwed her face up. ‘An’ I know I’m lucky compared to some poor buggers, who’ll never see their ’usbands again. But it doesn’t stop me from worryin’.’

  ‘Hasn’t he improved at all since he came home?’

  ‘I think he’s put a bit of weight on, an’ he is talkin’ a bit more, but things are not movin’ fast enough for me.’

  ‘Everything comes to him who waits, Eileen,’ Milly quoted. ‘You’re too impatient.’

  ‘I’m bloody selfish, too!’ Eileen smiled. ‘I’m lumberin’ you with all my troubles, an’ haven’t even asked how your feller is!’

  ‘He’s coming home on leave next week!’ Milly clapped her hands in joy. ‘After four long years, he’s coming home!’

  Eileen straightened up, her face alight. ‘Well, that’s the best news I’ve ’eard for a long time!’ Then she cocked her head to one side. ‘Did yer say he was comin’ ’ome on leave, or for good!’

  ‘Only on two weeks’ leave. He’s got to go back to Greece, but it won’t be for long. He’s hoping to be home for good in about two months.’

  ‘Oh, I’m glad fer yer, Milly, I really am! Yer’ll be able to ’ave a lie in now an’ again … no more gettin’ up at five every mornin’. Yer won’t know yer born!’

  ‘You’re telling me! I won’t know what’s hit me!’

  ‘Eh, I better be gettin’ back!’ Eileen brought her purse out. ‘I’ll settle up with yer for the things I’ve ’ad on the slate.’

  ‘You can leave it if you’re skint,’ Milly said kindly. ‘Next week will do.’

  ‘No, I’ll settle up now. If my Bill knew he’d been smokin’ ciggies I’d got on tick, he’d ’ave choked on them.’ Eileen grinned. ‘My feller doesn’t believe in gettin’ things on the never-never, but what the eye don’t see, the heart don’t grieve.’

  ‘Would he object to you getting half a pound of Spam from under the counter?’ Milly asked mischieviously.

  ‘Milly, for half-a-pound of Spam, I wouldn’t care whether ’e objected or not! Are yer sure yer can spare it, ’cos I’ve got no coupons left?’

  ‘I can spare it.’ Milly moved down the counter to the cutting board. ‘And I can spare half of bacon for his breakfast, too!’

  ‘Milly Knight, yer an angel!’ Eileen’s cheeks moved, a sure sign a laugh was on its way. ‘Pity yer not a chicken instead of an angel, then I could ’ave ’ad some eggs to go with the bacon!’

  Milly laid down the knife, her shoulders shaking. ‘Your face would get you the parish, you know that, Eileen Gillmoss! Okay, you twisted me arm! I’ll slip in a couple of eggs for your cheek!’

  ‘D’yer know what I feel like now, Milly? D’yer remember when we were kids, an’ our mams used to say, “close yer eyes and open yer mouth, an’ see what God’ll send yer”? Well with all the goodies yer givin’ me, I feel like a kid again! Yer might not look like God, Milly, but yer’ll do for me, kiddo!’

  Eileen practically skipped down the road. The precious Spam and bacon were together in a brown paper bag, but because bags were scarce, she carried the two eggs loose in her hand.

  She hummed softly to herself. Bill could have bacon and egg for his breakfast for the next two days, with a couple of rounds of fried bread. And if Jean Simpson’s American boyfriend sent in a piece of meat like he’d been doing for the last few months, she’d be quids in! She’d be able to feed Bill up, and she’d soon have him strong again.

  Eileen’s high spirits lasted till she reached her front door. Then her tummy filled with butterflies, wondering what she was going to find inside. When she was halfway down the hall, she could hear the sound of men’s voices.

  They were too low to distinguish, but they filled her with hope. She pushed the door open with her hip in time to see Arthur and Bill leaning towards each other, deep in conversation. They broke apart when she entered, like two children found doing something they shouldn’t, and Eileen wished she’d stayed out a bit longer.

  ‘I’ll make yez a cup of tea now, fellers!’

  ‘We’ve had one, chick,’ Bill told her. ‘I asked Ma to make us one.’

  Arthur noticed the eggs in Eileen’s hand and grinned. ‘With Bill calling you chick, I’m wondering if you laid them yourself!’

  Eileen chuckled. Thank God he had a sense of humour! ‘There’s many a time I’ve laid an egg, Arthur, but not a real one!’ She put her ill-gotten gains on the table, then asked, ‘How ’ave you two been gettin’ on?’

  Bill left it to Arthur to answer. ‘We’ve had a real good chin wag, swapping experiences and ideas.’

  ‘Are you all right, Bill?’ Eileen asked. ‘Yer very quiet!’

  ‘I’m fine, chick! Me and Arthur get along just fine!’ And Bill really meant it. It had been good to unburden himself to someone who knew and understood what it was like to be a prisoner of war. And who, like himself, felt less of a man than he had before he was captured.

  ‘Then yer’ll ’ave to come again, Arthur! Come one day next week an’ ’ave some dinner with us.’ Eileen shrugged expressively. ‘Yer’ll ’ave to take pot luck, with things as they are, but yer won’t mind, will yer?’

  ‘Eileen, bread and jam are a luxury to me! So don’t worry or put yourself out on my account!’

  ‘Eh, you, bread and jam are a luxury to us, an’ all! We ’aven’t been livin’ the life of Riley, yer know!’ Eileen leaned on the table, causing it to slide backwards in protest. ‘We don’t ’ave any puddin’s, so yer know in advance! For afters we usually ’ave a few jokes, so yer’d better learn a few before yer come.’

  Arthur rose and reached for his hat. ‘I’ll have to ask my sons! I’m afraid it’s a long time since I heard a good joke!’

  After goodbyes were said, Eileen followed Arthur to the front door. ‘What d’yer think of ’im, Arthur?’

  ‘What I went through pales into insignificance when you hear what Bill suffered! I thought we were badly treated, but I know now that in our camp we were some of the lucky ones.’

  ‘I’m so glad yer came, Arthur! I’m sure it’s done Bill good to ’ave yer to talk to, an’ I do thank yer!’ Eileen folded her elbows and leaned against the door. She coul
dn’t let him go without asking how he was faring, but she worried that he might think she was just being nosey. ‘I’ve thought about yer quite a lot, and wondered ’ow yer were gettin’ on. How are things with you? Are you feelin’ any better?’

  A shadow crossed Arthur’s face. ‘You saw how it was, Eileen, and it hasn’t changed. Sylvia barely speaks to me, and the house is still the pig sty you saw.’ Arthur put his trilby on and pulled the brim down, the action reminding Eileen of Humphrey Bogart. ‘She still goes out every night and nothing I say will make her change. In fact, I can’t see any future for us. If it weren’t for the boys, I’d pack me bag and walk out, and that’s what she’s hoping for. With me out of the way she could please herself, with no one to ask questions or criticise.’

  With Eileen shaking her head and tutting, Arthur went on, ‘I often wonder what happened to the boys when I wasn’t at home to mind them while she goes out every night. I haven’t asked them, because I don’t think it’s fair to question them about their mother, or ask them to take sides. But it makes me wonder if she even cares about them.’

  Arthur turned his head to gaze up and down the street, and when he spoke there was sadness in his voice. ‘I haven’t been quite truthful with you, Eileen. The reason I haven’t questioned the boys is because I’m afraid of the answers. I don’t think I’d be far wrong if I said Sylvia is used to bringing her boyfriends home with her, and I’m just a bloody nuisance because my being there has put a stop to it.’

  Eileen gasped. ‘She wouldn’t do that!’

  ‘Eileen, if you saw the way the neighbours either avoid me, or look at me with pity in their eyes, then you’d know what I’m talking about. They were my friends once, now they can’t even look me straight in the eye!’

  ‘What yer gonna do, then?’ Eileen asked. ‘Yer can’t put up with that for the rest of yer life!’

  ‘If it weren’t for the kids, Eileen, I’d have been on my bike the day after I came home. But I can’t just walk out on them. They’d have no stability in their lives if I left them with a mother whose only concern in life is to enjoy herself and to hell with everyone else!’