EG02 - Man of the House

by Joan Jonker

  Maggie eyed her daughter suspiciously. ‘Very concerned about our Rene all of a sudden, aren’t you? It would do you no harm to go down and see her, instead of expecting her to come here all the time. After all, you’ve got no excuse now ’cos you’ve got plenty of time on your hands.’

  ‘You’ve no need to talk, Mam, ’cos you don’t visit ’er either!’

  ‘There’s an excuse for me, at my age.’ Maggie straightened the lace runner on the sideboard with one hand while patting her white hair with the other. ‘I can’t be hopping on and off buses.’

  ‘I didn’t hear yer complainin’ about yer legs last week, when yer went into town to the Forum. Yer ran down this street like a two year old when yer knew Cary Grant was on.’ Eileen checked her bag to make sure her purse was there. ‘I’ll nip into Milly’s on me way past, an’ give our Rene a ring from there. Just to make sure they’re all right.’

  ‘Where are you and Mary off to?’

  ‘Paddy’s market. Our Joan needs a new blouse an’ gymslip, an’ our Edna’s shoes look like a pair of Charlie Chaplin’s cast offs. I want to see what they’ve got down at the market before trying the shops.’

  ‘You’ll be home in time for dinner, won’t you?’ Maggie followed Eileen down the hall, fussing. ‘Don’t forget it’s Saturday, and Bill only works half day.’

  ‘Keep yer hair on, missus, I’ll be home in time. An’ I’ll bring somethin’ in for our dinner, so don’t start gettin’ all het up an’ get yer knickers in a twist.’

  Eileen’s hips swayed from side to side as she walked down the street. A fresh breeze fanned her cheeks and she gulped in the fresh air. She felt better now she was out, away from the house that was beginning to stifle her. The little house she’d always loved, that had always been filled with love, warmth and humour. Even in the dark days of the war, when Bill had been away so long, she’d tried to keep it the same for the sake of her mam and the kids. They never knew then what it cost her to keep a smile on her face and a joke on her lips, and they didn’t know what it was costing her now.

  ‘Hi, ya, Milly! Still rakin’ the money in?’

  ‘My, my, aren’t we posh today!’ Milly’s smile was the one she wore for her favourite customers. ‘Got a heavy date, have yer?’

  ‘Huh! I should be so lucky!’ Eileen rolled her eyes. ‘I’m meetin’ Mary down in Scottie Road, an’ we’re goin’ to look round Paddy’s market. Yer never know yer luck in a big city, do yer, Milly? Anyway, would yer let me use yer phone to ring our kid?’

  Milly lifted the hinged counter top. ‘Help yourself, you know where it is.’

  Eileen wasn’t used to a telephone and it frightened the life out of her. But this was an emergency. She dialled the number and listened to the ringing tone. Then Rene’s voice came down the line. ‘Hello.’

  ‘It’s me, our kid!’ Eileen’s voice was loud with nerves. ‘Me mam was wonderin’ if there was anythin’ wrong, with yer not coming for a few weeks.’

  ‘Victoria’s had a sore throat and a temperature for the last week or so, and she’s been really poorly. But she seems a lot brighter today, so I might slip up with her tomorrow. A bit of fresh air will do her good.’

  ‘Try an’ come, our kid, ’cos yer know ’ow me mam worries.’ Another lie, Eileen thought. But I need to see our Rene. She’s the only one I can talk to. And I’ve got to talk to someone soon, or I’ll go off me rocker.

  ‘All right, Eileen, you can tell me mam I’ll be there.’

  ‘Thanks, kid! Ta-ra for now.’

  Milly was busy serving when Eileen emerged from the back of the shop, so she slapped two pennies on the counter and made for the door. ‘Thanks, Milly! Yer’ll never see what I’ll buy yer for yer birthday.’

  Eileen stared out of the window as the bus swayed to and fro on its way to the Pier Head. They passed the burned-out houses and shops with their boarded-up windows and doors, and the empty spaces where buildings had been so badly damaged during the blitz that they were a danger to the public and had to be pulled down. But Eileen didn’t see them, her mind was miles away, worrying about the state of her marriage.

  The bus lurched to a halt at a stop opposite Sturla’s, and Eileen’s mind was momentarily diverted as her bag slipped from her knee. Holding it in a firm grip, she returned once more to her thoughts. She’d done everything she could in the last few weeks to please and attract Bill. She made sure she was neat and tidy when he came home from work, with her face lightly made-up and wearing a smile. She’d even treated herself to a new, pretty nightdress, a bottle of African Violets, and a tin of perfumed talcum powder. But she might as well not have bothered for all the notice Bill took. He never had been one for dishing out compliments, or flattery, but she didn’t need them before because he proved his love for her in the privacy of their bedroom. But the passion had gone out of their lives now, and although Eileen kept telling herself she should be more understanding, that it wasn’t Bill’s fault, she needed some show of love from him to keep her going. Even if it was only in words.

  ‘Scotland Road.’ At the sound of the clippie’s voice, Eileen shook her head to clear her mind. It was time to don the mask again, and pretend that big, fat Eileen didn’t have a care in the world.

  Eileen sighed as she moved to the platform of the bus. She was probably clutching at straws, but their Rene was her last hope.

  As she stepped from the bus, Eileen saw Mary hurrying towards her. ‘Hi, ya, kid! Been waitin’ long?’

  ‘Only five minutes.’ Mary linked her arm through Eileen’s. ‘You look very smart, today.’

  ‘Well now, begorrah, tank yer very much.’ Eileen’s Irish accent was very convincing. ‘An’ if I may make so bold, me darlin’, ’tis foine yer lookin’ yer dear self.’

  Mary’s laugh rang out. Oh, it was good to be with Eileen again. Just the two of them, like old times. No one could cheer her up, or make her laugh, like her old mate. ‘Are you going to treat yourself?’

  ‘By the time I’ve sorted the kids out, I’ll be lucky if I’ve got the bus fare ’ome.’ Eileen squeezed Mary’s arm. ‘Still, it’s nice to be out together, even if we get nowt, eh, kid?’

  The market was a hive of activity. The second-hand stalls were doing a thriving business as women searched through the piles of clothes and bedding, hoping to find a bargain. There was many a fight between two women who both grabbed for something at the same time. With clothing rationed and coupons scarce, no one was prepared to give way.

  Mary stood back smiling, as Eileen thrust her way into the crowd around a busy stall. And with her size, no one was going to complain if her elbow landed in their tummy. After twenty minutes, she emerged, grinning from ear to ear. ‘Success, kid! An almost new blouse an’ gymslip for our Joan, an’ a smashin’ pair of shoes for Edna that look as though they’ve only been worn once.’

  Mary grinned, happy for her friend. ‘What now?’

  ‘We’ll just ’ave a nose around, eh? Might see somethin’ that takes our fancy.’

  Arm in arm they walked to where the black-shawled barrow women were shouting out the value of their wares. ‘Carrots tuppence a pound, spuds thruppence for five pounds. Come on now, ladies, get yer spuds in for temorrer’s dinner for the ol’ feller. Fresh cabbage, thruppence each. Yer won’t get ’em cheaper anywhere in Liverpool.’

  One of the Mary Ellens caught Eileen’s eye. ‘Get yer spuds and veg, missus, an’ I’ll let yer have a couple of oranges.’

  ‘Ye gods, I ’aven’t ’ad an orange since Adam was a lad.’ Eileen hurried to the cart before someone else took up the offer. She was followed closely by Mary who offered the use of her large shopping bag as Eileen’s list of purchases grew.

  ‘Don’t get too much,’ Mary said, ‘you’ve got to walk all the way from the bus stop with it.’

  While Eileen filled the bag, Mary spotted an unsavoury-looking character standing near. He had a large case open at his feet and was inviting a potential customer to feel the quality of a towel. Mary n
udged Eileen. ‘Look at the things he’s got in that case. Nightdresses, knickers … everything you can mention.’

  ‘He’s a spiv, an’ he’ll charge yer through the nose, kid,’ Eileen warned.

  ‘Oh, blow it,’ Mary laughed. ‘Let’s go mad for a change. If he’s got anything you like, I’ll treat you.’

  ‘I’m not skint yet, kid,’ Eileen said, lugging the heavy bag towards the spiv whose eyes were everywhere, on the look out for a policeman. One sight of a blue uniform and the case would be snapped shut and the offender would disappear into the crowds until the danger had passed.

  While Mary was looking at a tea towel, Eileen spotted the straps of a white cotton bra in the case. ‘What size is that, mister?’

  The man smirked. ‘Not yours, lady. You need to go to a factory where they make parachutes.’

  ‘Oh, very funny.’ Eileen bridled. ‘But yer’ll pardon me if I don’t laugh, won’t yer, ’cos I’ve ’eard it before.’

  ‘Come on.’ Mary was pulling at Eileen’s arm, angry that her friend had been insulted. ‘I’m not buying anything off him, the cheeky beggar.’

  ‘Just ’ang on a minute, kid.’ Eileen pulled her arm free and glared at the man who was already regretting his words. ‘I’ve eaten bigger men than you for breakfast, sonny boy, so I’d watch me mouth if I was you, or yer’ll be missin’ a few teeth.’ Several people had stopped at the sound of Eileen’s voice and were listening intently. ‘I’m askin’ yer again what size that bra is, an’ I want none of yer lip.’

  The man’s eyes were scanning the crowd that had now gathered. This fat piece had a mouth on her like a fog horn. If she kept this up, the rozzers would be swarming round in no time. ‘It’s a size thirty-two.’ He shifted uneasily on his feet. ‘I didn’t mean no ’arm, missus, it was only a joke.’

  ‘Aye, well, I’d advise yer to keep yer jokes to yerself in future if yer want to live to be an old man.’

  ‘Come on.’ Mary tugged at Eileen’s arm. She was sorry now she’d spotted the horrible man.

  But Eileen stood her ground. ‘How much is it?’

  The man’s head was telling him to give her the bloody thing for nothing to get rid of her. But the look on Eileen’s face told him it wouldn’t be a wise move. ‘Yer can have it for one and eleven.’

  Eileen bent down and picked up the white cotton bra. She inspected it closely, then looked into eyes that were willing her to take it and clear off. ‘I’ll take it.’

  Mary watched in amazement as Eileen slowly counted out the right money. What on earth did she want a bra that size for?

  ‘Wrap it up.’ Eileen heard a titter from the watching crowd. ‘I don’t want to get it dirty, ’cos I’ll be wearin’ it tonight to go dancin’.’

  An angry retort was on the man’s lips, but he bit it back. ‘I’m sorry but I ’aven’t got any bags.’ He was about to hand over the bra when he saw the set of Eileen’s face. Vainly he searched in the case for a piece of paper, then he heard Eileen’s voice. ‘Yer can wrap it in one of them elevenpence ha’penny towels. That would keep it clean.’

  The man’s eyes swivelled. If this crowd didn’t move soon, ten to one the rozzers would be round to see what was happening. The towel in question was one shilling and elevenpence halfpenny, and he knew Eileen was well aware of the price. But he also knew she had him over a barrel. His anger showing in his movements, he grabbed the towel, wrapped it around the bra, and handed it over.

  Eileen smiled sweetly, and kept her voice low. ‘That was a very expensive joke, wasn’t it, sonny boy?’

  ‘You’re a case, you are,’ Mary said, as they pushed through the crowd. ‘All that for a bra that’s no use to you.’

  ‘It’s not for me, yer daft nit!’ Eileen said. ‘It’s for our Joan.’

  ‘Go way!’ Mary stared in disbelief. ‘Pull the other one, Eileen, it’s got bells on.’

  ‘Kid, our Joan’s got a bust on her nearly as big as yours.’ They were outside the market now, and Eileen put the heavy bag on the ground. ‘You were right, kid, it is bloody ’eavy.’ She rubbed the hand where the handles of the bag had dug deeply into the flesh. ‘I’ve got to get somethin’ for our dinner, or me mam’ll ’ave kittens if Bill comes ’ome an’ there’s nothin’ in.’ Her eyes travelled along the block of shops opposite, stopped half way, then travelled back. ‘My God, there’s Arthur’s wife.’

  Mary followed Eileen’s eyes to see a slim woman leaning against the wall. ‘Go way, that’s never Arthur’s wife, is it?’

  When Eileen nodded, Mary took a closer look. Dyed blonde hair framed a face thick with make-up, and a cigarette dangled from heavily painted lips. The woman’s painfully thin body was clad in a dress that was skin tight and very short.

  ‘She looks awful common,’ Mary said.

  ‘Well, she’s no angel, that’s for sure.’ Eileen was silent for a while, a thoughtful expression on her face. Then she turned to Mary. ‘I think I’ll go an’ ’ave a word with ’er, kid. You stay ’ere an’ keep yer eye on me bag.’

  Eileen stood in front of Sylvia, a half smile on her face. ‘Remember me, Sylvia?’

  Recognition dawned. Sylvia took the cigarette from her lips, threw it on the ground and stubbed it out with her foot, before meeting Eileen’s eyes. ‘Yeh, I remember yer.’

  ‘I’ve just been round the market with me mate an’ when I saw yer, I thought I’d nip across an’ ask ’ow yer are.’ A few weeks ago, Arthur had told Eileen he’d had it out with his wife. Either she stayed home and looked after the children and the house properly, or he was leaving and taking the boys with him. Only last week he’d said his words seemed to have had an effect, because the house was now being cleaned properly, the kids looked better, and there was a dinner on the table when he came home from work. And, she’d taken to staying in at night. Arthur said he didn’t know whether it was a flash in the pan, but he was prepared to give her a chance because of the children. He’d lost all love and respect for her, but the welfare of his children came first. When they were older, then he’d decide where his future lay.

  Knowing all this, Eileen kept a smile on her face. ‘Keepin’ all right, are yer, Sylvia?’

  ‘Bearing up, you know.’ Sylvia was weighing the big woman up. She didn’t like her, and never would. But she was afraid of showing it in case it got back to Arthur. Being stuck in the house every night was miserable enough, without having him on her back again. ‘How’s yerself?’

  ‘Can’t complain, yer know. D’yer come ’ere to do yer shoppin’?’

  ‘Now and again.’ Sylvia turned her head, offering no further information.

  Eileen could feel the hostility. They had nothing in common and could never be friends in a month of Sundays. ‘I’d better get back to me mate. It’s been nice seein’ yer again, Sylvia. Look after yerself, an’ give my love to the boys, won’t yer?’

  Sylvia’s thin lips curled. ‘Oh, yeh, I will! Ta-ra, now!’

  As Eileen turned, Sylvia couldn’t resist the temptation. ‘An’ I won’t forget to tell me ’usband I bumped into his fat friend.’

  With as much dignity as she could muster, Eileen crossed the road to Mary.

  Eileen sat on the end of the seat, her two arms around the big, heavy bag. ‘She didn’t want to know, but at least I tried.’ She shifted uncomfortably on the seat, the cheek of her backside numb. ‘They say marriages are made in ’eaven, but someone, somewhere, didn’t ’alf slip up when they matched Arthur with Sylvia, and Vera with Danny. It should ’ave been the other way round.’

  ‘It should be Vera’s turn for our Wednesday afternoon get-together,’ Mary said. ‘D’you think I should offer to have it at ours, again?’

  ‘No, it’ll be all right ’cos Danny’s back at work. Anyway ’e seems to ’ave quietened down. He still doesn’t speak to Vera, an’ she’s still sleepin’ in Carol’s room, but she said she can put up with that as long as ’e doesn’t raise ’is ’and or ’is voice.’

  ‘Is he still getting letters
from Holland?’ Mary waited for Eileen’s nod, then said, ‘If it was me, I’d be dying of curiosity to know who they were from.’

  ‘He’s a dark horse, is Danny,’ Eileen said. ‘Vera’s searched the ’ouse for those letters and can’t find a trace of them.’ She leaned across Mary to peer out of the window. ‘The next stop’s mine.’ She cursed the heavy bag as she struggled to her feet. ‘I’ll see yer on Wednesday at Vera’s, kid. Ta-ra for now.’

  ‘Ta-ra, Eileen.’

  Mary pressed her face against the window, her hand raised to wave as Eileen passed, but her friend walked by without a glance. She looked so dejected, Mary felt angry with herself. It was that horrible man insulting her that had upset Eileen, and if Mary hadn’t been so insistent on seeing what he was selling, it would never have happened.

  Mary, shy and timid, would normally walk away from trouble. But right now she would willing have strangled the spiv who had upset her dearest friend.

  ‘Ah, ray, Mam!’ At first Joan thought her mother was pulling her leg, but when she realised it wasn’t a joke, she was horrified. ‘I’m not wearing that! All the girls in our class would make fun of me . . . and what about our Billy? He’d laugh ’is ’ead off.’

  Eileen held the bra out. ‘Unless yer intend takin’ yer clothes off halfway through an ’istory lesson, or sittin’ down to dinner in yer undies, ’ow the ’ell will anyone know yer’ve got it on?’

  Joan turned to her nan for support, but to her surprise Maggie backed Eileen. ‘You don’t know how lucky you are, lass! When I was your age there was no such things as nice brassieres, like that. My mum had to wrap a binding around my chest to keep it flat.’

  ‘I don’t care what yez say, I’m not wearin’ it!’ Joan was near to tears, thinking of the taunts and sneers of her school mates. ‘No one else in our class ’as one.’

  ‘How d’yer know, sunshine?’ Eileen had waited till young Billy had gone off with his friends, Edna was playing in the street, and Bill, having been let into the secret, had suddenly discovered he was out of ciggies. ‘They might all be wearin’ them for all you know.’