MB02 - Last Tram To Lime Street

by Joan Jonker

  ‘He didn’t come himself last week, it was another collector. He said Mr Henry wasn’t well.’ Lizzie was beginning to feel better now it was all out in the open. It was just as well because she couldn’t have put up with it much longer. Especially since that half-crown was stolen, she’d been sick with worry. It had got to the stage where she dreaded getting out of bed in the morning, dreaded every knock on the door. ‘The rent’s due tomorrow, so if Mr Henry comes himself I’ll have a word with him.’

  ‘Uh, uh!’ Corker grunted. ‘I’ll have a word with Mr Henry. In fact, I’ll have more than a word with ’im. If he doesn’t come himself tomorrow, I’ll go down to their office. Do they still ’ave that place in Spellow Lane, just past Burton’s tailors?’

  Lizzie nodded. ‘As far as I know. But he’ll be here tomorrow, I’ve never known Mr Henry miss two weeks.’

  ‘Then let’s forget all about it for today.’ Corker stretched his arms before clasping his hands behind his head. ‘Now, what’s for dinner?’

  ‘I’ve got mutton chops braising on the top shelf of the oven. They’ve been in as long as the rice puddin’, so they should be nice an’ tender. The potatoes are peeled, so I can have the dinner ready in half an hour, is that okay?’

  ‘That’ll suit me fine, Ma, ’cos I’ve got a bit of business to see to this afternoon. And if yer don’t mind being left on yer own, I thought I’d go for a pint tonight, with Jack Bennett.’

  ‘Of course I’m all right,’ Lizzie huffed. ‘Why shouldn’t I be?’ She left her chair to pull on his beard, smiling into his face. ‘I suppose yer takin’ Ellen for a drink as well?’

  ‘Don’t miss much, do yer, Ma?’ Corker returned her smile. ‘If she’ll come, yes, I am!’ Their eyes locked. ‘Yer don’t mind me bein’ friends with Ellen, do yer, Ma?’

  Lizzie straightened up. ‘I like Ellen well enough, she’s a nice woman. But I worry about yer, son, ’cos nothing can come of it, not with her being a married woman.’

  ‘She’s married in name only, Ma! Nobby will never come out of that place, he’s there for as long as he lives. And she had a lousy life with ’im, you know that! He was a right bastard to her an’ the kids.’

  Lizzie lifted her hand. ‘I’m not sitting in judgement, son, it’s just that I don’t want you to get hurt. There’s nothin’ I’d like better than to see you married and settled down, with a family of your own. I’d go to my grave in peace then, knowing you weren’t alone in the world.’

  ‘You’re not goin’ to yer grave or anywhere else, Ma, not for a long time.’ Corker threw back his head, a deep chuckle rumbling in his throat. ‘I forbid it, d’yer hear? I mean, who’s going to make sure I have a clean hankie in me pocket and clean underpants on? And what about the apple pies? There’s no one in the whole world who can make an apple pie like you.’

  ‘One thing yer are good at, son, is changing the subject,’ Lizzie said drily. ‘One minute we’re talkin’ about Ellen, the next it’s apple pies!’

  ‘Ma, I’m forty years of age, old enough to know what I’m doing. I like Ellen, have done since we were youngsters together. If I’d have had any sense I’d ’ave married her then, but the sea was in me blood an’ I was away too often. Now, well, we’ll have to wait an’ see. Ellen will never let me be any more than a friend to her, not while Nobby’s still alive, but that satisfies me. What the future has in store, well, only God knows that.’

  ‘Hi-ya, Ellen!’ Molly was draining the water from the potatoes when Ellen walked through to the kitchen for her nightly five-minute chat. ‘I’ll be with yer in a minute.’ She put the pan back on the stove, waving her hand through the steam which swirled like clouds in the tiny kitchen. ‘I wish these kitchens were bigger, yer can’t even swing the flamin’ cat around in here.’

  Ellen grinned. ‘Yer haven’t got a cat.’

  ‘See what I mean?’ Molly giggled. ‘What’s the use of havin’ a cat if yer can’t swing it round?’ She took Ellen’s arm and pulled her through to the living room. ‘Corker’s ’ome, an’ he said to tell yer he’d be down later to see you an’ the kids.’

  Ellen coloured. ‘I’d better get home an’ tidy up then.’

  ‘Hang on a minute, missus! I said I’d ask Jill to sit with the kids so yer could go for a drink with him. Is that all right with you?’

  ‘I should say I’m not goin’ for a drink with him, but I won’t!’ Ellen raised her head defiantly. ‘To hell with what the neighbours think! I was left on me own in the shop all mornin’ ’cos Tony had to go to the abattoir, and I was run off me feet. So I deserve a nice quiet sit-down an’ a glass of sherry.’

  ‘Go an’ get yerself dolled up then.’ Molly pushed her towards the door. ‘By the time yer’ve given the kids their tea and put the young ones to bed, he’ll be here.’

  Ellen was in the hall when she remembered the parcel under her arm. ‘Oh, I nearly forgot.’ She marched back into the living room and placed the parcel on the table. As she unwrapped the newspaper, she explained, ‘Tony gave me a big piece of dripping. I’ve cut it in three, a piece each for you an’ Nellie an’ meself.’

  ‘God bless yer!’ Molly dashed out for a plate, then picked out two pieces of the dripping. ‘Thanks, Ellen, yer a pal.’ She wrapped the remaining piece up and handed it over. ‘Now scarper, an’ get yerself titivated up.’

  ‘Will yer let me know what Jill says?’ Ellen asked over her shoulder as she was being pushed along the hall. ‘She might ’ave made other arrangements.’

  ‘She’ll be there, don’t worry! Her an’ Steve will be glad of a place to be on their own. They can sit an’ hold hands all night, all gooey-eyed.’

  ‘They won’t be on their own, our Phoebe and Dorothy don’t go to bed till about ten.’

  ‘Then they can sit an’ watch.’ Molly waved, ‘Goodbye, Ellen! If yer’ve any more questions, write me a flamin’ note!’

  Ellen and Corker were ready to leave when Jill arrived with Steve. ‘We won’t be late,’ Corker promised as he cupped Ellen’s elbow. ‘I’m callin’ in to say hello to yer dad and the rest of the family, then we’ll be in the pub on the corner if yer need us.’

  Phoebe and Dorothy had happy smiles on their faces when Jill walked in with Steve. The couple had sat with them before when their mam went out with Sinbad, but they hadn’t seen them since Christmas, and when they’d asked their mam why, she’d told them that Jill and Steve had fallen out. The girls had been saddened by the news because they had grown fond of the couple. The Bennett family were the first real friends they’d ever had. When their dad was home nobody ever came to the house. They thought Jill looked like a fairy princess with her long blonde hair, slim figure and pretty face, and Steve was handsome enough to be a Prince Charming.

  ‘Hi, girls.’ There was a look of pride on Steve’s face as he pulled a chair out for Jill before sitting down himself. ‘What is it tonight, a game of cards, or snakes and ladders?’

  But Phoebe wasn’t interested in games, she had other things on her mind. And she wasn’t backward in coming forward. ‘Are youse two courtin’ again?’

  Jill blushed. ‘It looks like it, doesn’t it?’

  It was Dorothy’s turn to satisfy her curiosity. ‘Will yez be gettin’ married then?’

  Steve tapped his nose. ‘Nosy, aren’t yer?’ But seeing he was never happier than talking of the day he and Jill would be married, he was more than pleased to answer the question. ‘Yeah, we’ll be gettin’ married, won’t we, Jill?’

  ‘When we’re a bit older.’

  ‘Can we still be bridesmaids, like yez promised?’ Phoebe’s face was eager. ‘Remember, before yez fell out, yer did promise us.’

  When Steve smiled, the dimples in his cheeks became deep hollows. ‘We won’t break our promise, will we, Jill?’

  Jill gazed at the faces of the two girls who were willing her to say what they wanted to hear. Poor kids, they hadn’t had much to be happy about. Up till nine months ago they, and their two younger brothers, had suffered the
most miserable lives imaginable, with a father who was always drunk and thought nothing of lashing out with his hands and feet. They’d come out a lot since he’d left, laughing when they felt like it or playing in the street with the other kids, things they couldn’t do when he was around. But the mental scars must still be there, Jill thought now, and they had to learn there were people they could trust. ‘No, of course we won’t break our promise.’

  ‘Ooh, our Phoebe, isn’t that the gear?’ Dorothy clapped her hands in delight. She’d never even been to a wedding, never mind been a bridesmaid, and the prospect filled her with joy.

  But Phoebe wanted to know more. Never in her life had there been anything she could brag about to the girls in school, and she wanted more details so they’d believe her. ‘When will yez be gettin’ married, then?’

  ‘It’ll be a long time yet,’ Jill told her. ‘I’m only sixteen.’

  ‘You’ll be seventeen in a few months,’ Steve was quick to remind her, ‘and I’ll be eighteen.’ He hung his head in embarrassment. ‘I was goin’ to ask yer to get engaged on yer birthday.’

  ‘You were?’ Jill faced him, her eyes shining. ‘Oh, yes, please!’ Then, disappointment in her voice, she added, ‘But we’ve no money for a ring.’

  ‘I’ve been savin’ a few coppers each week,’ Steve said, taking her hands in his. ‘I’d have enough if we didn’t go to the pictures every week.’

  ‘Ooh, I don’t mind missing the pictures,’ Jill said, her thumb stroking his hand. ‘I’d much rather get engaged.’

  Forgotten by the two sweethearts, Phoebe and Dorothy looked on, enthralled. With their elbows on the table and their thin faces cupped in their hands, they listened as their fairy princess and Prince Charming discussed how much a ring would cost. They sat up straight when Steve raised his voice to say it was up to him to buy the engagement ring, and he wasn’t having Jill pay towards it. For a few horrible seconds they thought the two were going to fall out again, putting an end to their dreams of being bridesmaids. But they soon relaxed when Jill gave in. Yes, it was the right and proper thing for the man to buy the engagement ring. But you could get engagement rings for men as well, so she’d save up because she wanted to give him a ring on the day they got engaged.

  When Phoebe and Dorothy were snuggled up to each other in bed that night, they were too excited to sleep. ‘Wasn’t it dead romantic?’ Phoebe whispered. ‘Just like yer see on the pictures.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Dorothy’s sigh was one of bliss. ‘An’ they’re goin’ to let us choose the colour of the bridesmaids’ dresses.’ Again she sighed. ‘Five bridesmaids, it’s goin’ to be a proper posh weddin’.’

  ‘Ooh, I can’t wait, I wish it was temorrer.’ Phoebe snuggled closer. ‘An’ don’t forget it’s a secret, our Dorothy, yer’ve not to tell a soul.’

  ‘Scout’s honour, I won’t open me mouth.’ Dorothy pulled the sheet up to her chin. ‘Good night and God bless, our Phoebe.’

  ‘Good night, sis! Sleep tight an’ mind the fleas don’t bite.’

  Chapter Six

  The table was set for dinner, the room was neat and tidy and a fire burned cheerfully in the grate. Molly gave one more glance around to make sure there were no shoes left lying around or newspapers peeping out from under the cushions, then she nodded in satisfaction and pulled out a chair, relishing the rare opportunity of having half an hour’s peace and quiet to herself. Jack and Tommy usually got home about half one on a Saturday but today they were going straight from work to Norris Green, where the man who did the coupon for the syndicate lived. He was reluctant to carry so much money into work with him, said it was too much of a responsibility. So all the winners were going to his home to pick up their share, and Tommy was tagging along.

  Molly laid her palms flat on the table and stared at the flames licking the bars of the grate. If they were getting new furniture for this room they’d have to decorate first. No good spoiling the ship for the sake of a ha’porth of tar. Light wallpaper, something like her mother’s with little sprigs of flowers on, that would brighten the place up. And they’d have white paintwork instead of the miserable brown they had now. The trouble was, anything too light would show every mark and Ruthie wasn’t fussy where she put her dirty hands.

  Molly’s eyes went to the ceiling when she heard her daughter running down the hall, shouting, ‘Mam, can I ’ave a jam buttie?’

  ‘I might ’ave known it was too good to be true.’ Molly swivelled in her chair and groaned at the sight of her daughter. Hair dishevelled, nose running, streaks of dirt on her face and the socks that had been white a couple of hours ago filthy dirty and wrinkled around her ankles. ‘In the name of God will yer look at the state of yer? Honest, people will wonder what sort of a home yer come from!’

  ‘I’m only playin’ with Bella!’ Ruthie looked disgusted. How could yer play ollies without getting dirty? She ran the sleeve of her coat across her nose. ‘Can I ’ave a jam buttie?’

  Molly tutted. ‘That’s a dirty habit, that is, wipin’ yer nose on yer sleeve.’ White paintwork indeed, she thought, I must be out of my mind! I’d spend my life washing dirty, sticky finger-marks off it. ‘Go out an’ play, there’s a good girl. Yer can’t ’ave a buttie ’cos it’ll put yer off yer dinner.’

  ‘Ah, ray, Mam!’

  ‘Don’t give me any lip, Ruthie, or I’ll keep you in.’ That was the worst of having a baby when the rest of your family were grown-up, you didn’t have the same patience. Still, she admitted to herself, it wasn’t the child’s fault, she hadn’t asked to be born. And she was no worse than the others had been at her age. Jill wasn’t so bad, she always managed to keep herself clean, but Doreen and Tommy had been little terrors, always filthy and always in trouble. ‘Be a good girl, sunshine, an’ go out an’ play. It won’t be long before yer dad and Tommy are home, an’ we’ll be havin’ a big dinner.’ The look of disappointment on the child’s face and the down-turned mouth brough forth a wave of sympathy. ‘I’ll give yer a penny after dinner to buy some sweets, how about that?’

  The mouth turned upwards and a smile hovered on the pixie-like face. ‘Okay, Mam, give us a shout when me dinner’s ready.’

  She’s easily pleased, Molly thought, listening as her daughter skipped down the hall. Mind you, what kid wouldn’t be after being bribed with the promise of a penny? When I was her age I was dead chuffed to get a farthing!

  ‘Mam!’

  ‘What is it now?’

  ‘The rent man’s ’ere.’

  Molly jumped up, frowning. She’d paid her rent, what was the matter with the man? She pulled the sideboard drawer open, muttering to herself as she searched for the brown book. ‘I bet he’s never marked it in ’is book, the silly beggar. But that’s ’is lookout, ’cos if he thinks I’m payin’ again, he’s got another think comin’.’

  ‘Ah, here it is.’ Flicking through the book for the last page, Molly hurried down the hall. ‘Look, it’s …’ Her words petered out and her mouth gaped. ‘Mr Henry! What on earth ’ave yer done to yerself?’

  The landlord’s right hand, cradled in a sling, was covered in a plaster cast which was partly hidden by the sleeve of his coat. Looking past him, Molly could see his car and a woman sitting behind the steering wheel. ‘I tripped over some books on the office floor and fell awkwardly.’ Mr Henry pulled a face. ‘Broke my wrist.’

  ‘The other bloke didn’t say what was wrong with yer, just told us yer were ill,’ Molly said. ‘I thought it was funny you bein’ off two weeks, I’ve never known yer be sick all the years yer’ve been comin’.’

  ‘I can’t drive, and it’ll be several weeks before the cast comes off. But the collector said there’d been complaints about the new people at the top of the street, so I asked the wife to drive me down to find out what it’s all about.’

  ‘Are yer comin’ in?’

  ‘If you don’t mind, just for a few minutes.’ Mr Henry leaned towards the car window, lifted up five fingers then followed Molly into the hous
e. ‘I thought you’d be the best one to ask. There’s no point in me going up there without knowing what the Bradleys are doing, and who they’re doing it to.’

  ‘Yer shouldn’t ’ave bothered, not the way yer are,’ Molly told him, pointing to his hand. ‘Yer must be in agony.’

  ‘No, it’s not too bad if I don’t move it. Actually, it’s more itchy than painful and I can’t get at it to have a good scratch.’ He laughed. ‘I got one of the wife’s knitting needles down the cast this morning, and I was really enjoying myself having a good scratch when she came in and caught me. Boxed my ears, she did.’

  ‘No more than yer deserve.’ Molly indicated a chair. ‘Sit yerself down and I’ll spill the beans.’

  When she’d finished, the landlord shook his head. ‘Oh, dear, they sound like troublemakers.’ He looked puzzled. ‘I’m surprised really, because the woman who recommended them is one of my best tenants. She said they were good friends of hers.’

  ‘If they’re her friends, I’d hate to see ’er enemies! God bless us, Mr Henry, the woman’s as tough as old boots! I don’t know about the ’usband, I’ve never seen ’im, but I wouldn’t touch her with a flamin’ bargepole! An’ wait till yer see the mess the house is in, yer’ll ’ave a fit! The Culshaws mightn’t ’ave had any money, but at least they were clean an’ they weren’t rowdy. That lot are as common as muck.’

  ‘There’s not much I can do about it right now, not until I’m back collecting and can see for myself. But I’m surprised at Mrs Black recommending them, she’s such a nice person.’

  ‘Does she live around ’ere, this Mrs Black?’ Molly asked.

  ‘No, in Tetlow Street, off Rice Lane. We’ve got six houses in that street and we’ve never had trouble with any of them.’

  ‘Well, if a house comes empty next to this Mrs Black, stick the Bradleys in it an’ see how she likes it.’ Molly saw the concern on Mr Henry’s face and felt sorry for him. He’d always been a good landlord, always understood if you were skint one week and couldn’t afford the rent. And he’d let you pay the arrears off at a couple of bob a week. ‘Look, don’t be worryin’ about anythin’ till yer feel up to it. Corker sent them packin’ when they tried to borrow off his ma, an’ they haven’t been back since, so perhaps they’ve got the message. You just go ’ome and forget about it until yer better.’