by Joan Jonker
The suite was in mahogany, with a square table and four chairs. The chairs were the nicest Molly had ever seen. The seats were sprung and covered in a maroon plush material, and the high backs were curved at the top and decorated with carvings. Molly ran her hands lovingly over the top of the gleaming table and sighed. It was beautiful, but way out of her reach.
‘It’s no good yer lookin’ all dreamy over that one, girl,’ Nellie whispered softly. ‘Unless yer meant what yer said about goin’ down Lime Street. An’ yer’d need to flog yer body a few hundred times to be able to afford that!’
Mr Greenberg came to stand beside them. ‘That one isn’t new.’
‘What?’ Molly looked at him as though he was stark staring mad. ‘It’s brand new!’
‘No.’ There was amusement in the man’s eyes. ‘It’s been restored.’
‘Well I never!’ Nellie was flabbergasted. ‘I’d never ’ave guessed, not in a million years’
‘It’s a beautiful suite,’ Mr Greenberg said. ‘Must have cost the earth when it was new. Came from one of the big houses in Mossley Hill.’
‘And who did this … this restoring, or whatever yer call it?’
‘I did, it’s my trade.’
‘Well, I’ll tell yer what,’ Nellie said, ‘yer’ve made a bloody good job of it. I’d never ’ave guessed it wasn’t new.’
Molly gazed at the suite, imagining it in their room. Go on, an inner voice urged, ask him how much. If you never ask, you’ll never get. But Molly didn’t dare. Just looking at it was enough to know it was beyond her means.
Nellie was watching her friend’s face. Then she turned to Mr Greenberg and enquired, casually, ‘How much yer askin’ for it?’
‘Twenty pounds.’
Molly’s heart sank. Even though she’d resigned herself to the fact that the suite would never be hers, she still felt sad.
‘Anythin’ off for cash?’ Nellie asked. ‘All the money in one go, in yer ’and.’
A smile crossed Sol Greenberg’s face. He only had to look at Nellie to know she was a kindred spirit. Someone who, like himself, couldn’t resist the temptations of food. He knew by the look in her eyes that it wasn’t the only thing they had in common, either! They both liked to barter, to get the best bargain they could. He was going to enjoy this. ‘I could probably come down a pound or two.’
Nellie pursed her lips and glanced at Molly. She saw the disappointment in her friend’s eyes and turned back to Mr Greenberg to try again. ‘It’s not me, yer understand, it’s me mate. She’s only got so much money, an’ she’s got certain things to buy with it. She hasn’t got a big mouth like me, so I’m goin’ to stand in for her. Is that all right, Molly?’
Molly nodded. It was probably a waste of time, but if Nellie could perform a miracle then she’d be in debt to her for the rest of her life.
‘Right, I’ll put the cards on the table.’ Nellie drew herself up to her full height. ‘An’ put meself in your hands.’
The sound that came from Mr Greenberg’s mouth took them both by surprise. It was more of a wheeze than a laugh, so funny it brought smiles to the faces of the two women. ‘Please, don’t put yourself in my hands.’ He gulped in air. ‘I don’t think I could stand the weight.’
Nellie joined in his laughter. Thank God the man had a sense of humour, it was half the battle. She waited until the wheezing ceased, then said, ‘I don’t know what I was laughin’ at, Mr Greenberg, that was a flamin’ insult!’
‘Call me Sol, everyone round here does.’ He took his glasses off and fished a handkerchief out of his pocket. ‘It wasn’t meant as an insult, I can assure you. It would be a case of the pot calling the kettle black, ’cos I doubt if there’s a pound difference between us.’
‘Don’t worry, Sol, I don’t take the huff easy.’ Nellie grinned. ‘Now, down to business. Me mate’s got twenty pound between her an’ the workhouse, an’ with that she’s got to get a dining room suite an’ a couch. So, what can yer do for ’er?’
‘That’s a tall order!’ Sol wiped his eyes before replacing his glasses. ‘We could probably work something out if she’d consider one of the other suites. They’re brand new, but of course not in the same league as this one.’
‘This is definitely the one she wants.’ Nellie smiled sweetly. ‘Can’t yer come up with anythin’?’
A podgy hand scratched the thinning brown hair. ‘What about the furniture she’s got? Perhaps I could take that in part exchange.’
‘No!’ Molly felt she had to butt in before Nellie got her into trouble. Her friend meant well, but no one in their right mind would buy the furniture she had, it was falling to pieces! ‘My stuff is only fit for the …’
‘Oh my Gawd!’ Nellie interrupted with a growl. ‘D’yer know what, Sol, Molly’s me best mate and we get on like a house on fire. But she’s got one fault, she’s too bloody honest! She was just about to tell yer that her furniture is only fit for the rag and bone man! It is in a bad state, I’ll grant yer that. The sideboard’s got marks all over it, same as the table top, and the legs on the chairs are wobbly. But if yer clever enough to do them up, like yer ’ave this one,’ she waved her hand at the restored dining room suite, ‘then someone will be glad of them. To hear me mate talk, yer’d think they were sittin’ on flamin’ orange boxes.’
Sol Greenberg thought of all the desperately poor people who lived around the shop who were, literally, sitting on orange boxes. A chair to them would be a luxury. ‘Are you still using the furniture, Mrs … er?’
‘Bennett. Molly Bennett.’ Molly pushed a strand of hair from her eyes. ‘Yes, of course we’re still using it! In fact, if my husband hadn’t won on the pools we’d have had to make do with it for another few years.’
‘In that case I’ll be able to sell it for a few pounds. Now we’ve got the question of a couch.’ He held his chin in his hands as he mentally went through all his stock. ‘Ah, I think I might have something! Will you come with me.’
With Nellie poking her in the ribs, Molly followed. They walked into a small side room, more like a passage, really, in which the only thing was a couch. It looked really comfortable, and very attractive, in a fawn uncut moquette, with just a sprinkling of small squares in a deep maroon colour. Molly could imagine Jack sitting in it, a cigarette in his mouth and the Echo open on his knee. Then she came down to earth. I’ll never get that with the few pounds I’m going to have over after paying for the suite.
‘This came from the same house in Mossley Hill.’ Sol was pulling the couch away from the wall as he spoke. ‘It’s got a tear in the back, and I put it out here until I can get it repaired.’ He beckoned the two women over. ‘Look, near the bottom.’
‘Yer can’t hardly see it!’ Nellie bent closer. ‘If it was against the wall it would never be noticed.’
Sol pushed the couch, puffing from the exertion. ‘Apart from that it’s in very good condition.’
Molly put her hands behind her back and crossed her fingers. ‘How much d’yer want for it?’
‘With the dining room suite, you can have it for twenty pound and your furniture. And you’ve got yourself a very good bargain.’
Molly’s shoulders sagged in relief while Nellie beamed all over her face. ‘Thank you, Mr Greenberg.’ Molly felt so happy she wanted to throw her arms around his neck. ‘I’m very grateful.’
‘Yer a real gent, that’s what yer are.’ Nellie’s pat on the back would have sent a lesser man reeling. ‘When my feller wins the pools I’ll be right down ’ere like a shot.’
‘I’ll bring the money in tomorrow, shall I?’ Molly asked, terrified that someone else might come in and snap up her bargain. Then she reminded herself that not everyone had a mate like Nellie.
‘No need for that.’ Sol was feeling in a good mood. The dining room suite was worth more than he was getting, but it had been a pleasure doing business with these two. They’d brightened up a miserable Monday. ‘You can pay cash on delivery. The van that comes will drop your ne
w furniture off and pick up your old. Pay the driver but make sure he gives you a receipt.’
While he was writing down Molly’s address and the day she wanted the delivery made, he said, ‘You’ve picked a good time to buy new furniture, because when the war starts they’ll be making armaments and not tables and chairs.’
‘Oh, don’t say that, Mr Greenberg!’ Molly’s happiness started to ebb. ‘Yer don’t really think there’s going to be a war, do yer?’
Sol bent over the paper he was writing on to hide the anguish he knew they would see in his eyes. The news filtering through to the Jewish community in the city about the atrocities taking place in Germany was enough to send a person insane. Jews being tortured and sent to concentration camps to be slaughtered in their thousands, men, women and even children. It didn’t bear thinking about. Unless someone took a gun to Hitler and stopped his brutality and butchery, war was inevitable. ‘The writing on the wall is very clear. I’ll be surprised if we aren’t at war with Germany within the next few months.’
Molly had steadfastly refused to listen to any talk of war. She didn’t read the papers and would turn the wireless off if it was mentioned. But she couldn’t help overhearing what people were saying in the shops, or on the newsreel when she went to the pictures. And although she wouldn’t allow her mind to dwell on it, she knew something of Hitler’s treatment of Jews. Now she wondered why he hated them so much. This man was Jewish, but he was no different from her or anyone else. In fact, in the half-hour they’d been in the shop he’d been more courteous than many men she knew, more helpful, and certainly more generous.
Molly sighed. Why was it that men like Hitler were so greedy for power they didn’t care who they killed or hurt to get it? But he’d get paid back, God would see to that.
Sol Greenberg was holding his hand out. ‘It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Mrs Bennett.’
‘Thank you.’ Molly shook his hand warmly. ‘You’re a good man.’
He turned to Nellie. ‘I’ll see you when your husband wins the pools, then, Mrs … er?’
Nellie pumped his hand up and down. ‘McDonough. Helen Theresa McDonough.’
Molly hurried from the shop before she burst out laughing. Helen Theresa McDonough indeed! Oh, Nellie would never hear the last of that! But as Molly watched her friend edging her huge body through the shop door, a wave of tenderness swept over her. She was a friend and a half was Nellie, and if she wanted to call herself the Angel Gabriel it was all right with Molly.
Nellie tucked her arm through Molly’s as they crossed the wide road. ‘Not a bad day’s work, eh, girl?’
‘Thanks to you it’s been a wonderful day!’ Molly glanced sideways. ‘I’d never ’ave done it without you, sunshine! I’ve got everythin’ I wanted, more than I thought the money would stretch to, an’ it’s all thanks to you.’
‘I need me head testin’, girl,’ Nellie said with a cheeky grin. ‘I’ve helped yer get all posh stuff for your ’ouse and I’m lumbered with me old sticks of furniture! Show me up, that’s what yer’ll do. Still, I’m not too proud to sit on yer new couch.’
A tram came trundling to a halt and Molly let Nellie board first, pushing her bottom to give her a lift up.
‘You sit by the window, girl, I’m better on the outside, let me backside hang over.’
When the conductor came along the aisle clicking his ticket machine, Molly had the money ready in her hand. ‘Two tuppenny, please.’
‘Eh, I knew there was somethin’ I had to tell yer, an’ I’ve just remembered what it was.’ Nellie was gripping the seat in front as the tram swayed on its way. ‘I ran out of sugar for breakfast this mornin’ an’ I ’ad to run up to Maisie’s. D’yer know what she told me?’ Without pausing, she went on, ‘Our street’s next to ’ave the electric put in.’
‘Go ’way! How does she know?’
‘Someone from the electricity came to tell ’er. Supposed to be startin’ a week on Monday.’ Nellie realised her dress was riding up, pulled it down over her knees and kept her hand on it. ‘I’m showin’ all I’ve got, knickers, garters, the lot!’
‘That’s good news, that is!’ Molly smiled happily. ‘No more tryin’ to read or sew by flamin’ gaslight! An’ it’ll show me new decoratin’ and furniture up a treat.’ Then the smile slipped from her face. ‘Oh God, I’ve just thought on! Jack’s doin’ the papering this week, then they’ll be round to make a mess of it! Me ma’s paper all got torn when they were puttin’ the switches in, they ruined it!’
‘Ooh, I never thought of that, girl! Well, yer know what to do, get another roll of wallpaper an’ Jack can patch it up after they’ve finished.’
‘Yeah, I better had. The shop’s right by the tram stop so I’ll call in an’ get one.’
‘Have yer got enough money on yer? I’ve got a couple of bob yer can have if yer skint.’
‘No, I’ll manage. I can always borrow a few bob off our Jill if I run short.’ Molly put an arm across her friend’s shoulders and squeezed. ‘Yer’ve done enough for me for one day, Helen Theresa McDonough.’
Chapter Ten
‘I’ll say this much for Corker, he’s a damn good worker.’ Running his fingers through the thick mop of hair flattened by his working cap, Jack surveyed Corker’s handiwork. ‘The ceiling looks a treat and it hasn’t half brightened the room up.’
‘He had it done in a couple of hours,’ said Molly with a smile. ‘Brought ’is own stool an’ got cracking right away. I covered the furniture with old sheets so it wouldn’t get any splashes on, and while he was doing the paintin’, me an’ Nellie trimmed four rolls of paper.’
Jack slipped his coat off and went to hang it in the hall. ‘It’s a big help that! It would’ve taken me two nights to do it.’
‘He’s comin’ back in the mornin’ to make sure there’s no patches.’ Molly pointed to the carved rosette in the middle of the ceiling. ‘He thinks that’ll need another coat, it was black with smoke from the gaslight.’
‘When I’ve had me dinner I’ll start scrapin’ the walls.’ Jack turned to raise his brows at Tommy. ‘If you’re not goin’ anywhere special, yer can give me a hand.’
‘Yeah, okay, Dad.’ Tommy pulled a chair out from the table and winked at Molly. ‘Does he know it’s double pay for overtime?’
‘Some hopes you’ve got.’ She ruffled his hair on the way to the kitchen. ‘If I got paid for workin’ after six o’clock there wouldn’t be enough money comin’ in to the house to pay me.’
‘Ah, but yours is a labour of love.’ Jack followed, intending to wash his hands at the kitchen sink. But Jill was there, up to her elbows in soapy water washing pans, while Doreen stood by, a tea towel ready to dry the pots as they were passed to her. ‘I see it’s all hands on deck tonight.’
‘It certainly is.’ Molly bent to take two plates from the warm oven. ‘Everyone is goin’ to benefit, so they can all get stuck in an’ do their bit.’
‘Steve’s coming down to help.’ Jill tossed her head, shaking the hair from her face. ‘It won’t take long if we all pull our weight.’
‘And Mike’s promised to come.’ Doreen rubbed the tea towel around the inside of a pan then stood on tiptoe to place it upside-down on the top shelf. Mike was a mechanic at Johnson’s and, with his friend Sammy and Doreen’s friend Maureen, he made up a foursome to go dancing with. ‘We’ll ’ave the walls stripped in no time.’
‘If I’d known that, I’d have asked yer mam to get some sandpaper to rub the paintwork down. It won’t take all of us to strip the walls.’
Molly, two hot plates in her hand, pushed him out of the way. ‘Corker beat yer to it, sunshine! He said yer’d need it and went down to the shop for a few sheets.’ She quickly dropped the plates on the table and blew on her fingers. ‘Blinkin’ hot, they are.’
‘I can’t get to the sink so I’ll leave me hands.’ Jack pulled a chair out. ‘They’re not that bad, an’ what’s a bit of dirt between friends, anyway?’
�
��As soon as yer’ve finished yer dinner we’ll stack everythin’ in the middle of the room, then I’ll wet the walls with the sweeping brush. The paper comes off easier when it’s wet.’
‘Ah, ray, Mam!’ Tommy’s face wore a pained expression. ‘We need a cup of tea before we start.’
‘And a cigarette.’ Jack smiled. ‘I’ll work twice as fast after a fag.’
Molly clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. ‘You an’ yer flamin’ ciggies! I think yer’d rather have a fag than a hot dinner.’ She lowered herself on to a chair. ‘I may as well rest me legs while I’m waitin’ for yez. I’ve been on the go all day, an’ our Ruthie had to pick tonight to be contrary. Kicked up a proper stink when I tried to get ’er to bed. She can be a right little so-and-so when she’s in one of her moods.’
‘Did yer manage to get all the paper trimmed, love?’
‘No, I told yer, we only did four rolls. Still, I can do the rest tomorrow.’ Molly leaned forward on the table, a twinkle in her eyes. ‘We didn’t ’alf have a good laugh today. I’d stacked everythin’ on the table to give Corker room to move around, an’ me an’ Nellie were sittin’ on these chairs cuttin’ the paper. It was awkward, I’ll grant yer that, but I was managing all right. Poor Nellie, though, when I looked at her I nearly wet meself laughing. Her face was all screwed up, her tongue hanging out of the side of her mouth, her turban had slipped to one side and she was cutting that slow we’d have been at it until Pancake Tuesday. She really was havin’ a helluva time … her tummy’s so big there was no room on her lap for the paper and she couldn’t see what she was doing. In the end I had to clear the table for her to sit at, otherwise the border would ’ave been all skewwhiff.’
Jack let out a deep chuckle. ‘I can just picture it!’
‘Corker enjoyed himself … she had ’im in stitches tellin’ him about me posh new furniture. When he said he’d ’ave to wipe his feet before he came in, she told ’im he’d ’ave to wipe his backside as well, before I’d let him sit on me new chairs.’ Molly giggled at the memory. ‘An’ she told ’im I wouldn’t take his word for it, there’d be an inspection at the front door.’