by Joan Jonker
Charles peeled off one of his gloves. ‘Did you have a nice Christmas, Polly?’
‘Oh yes, it was really marvellous.’ Her face glowed with the memory. ‘Yer should see the dress me mam bought for me, it’s really beautiful. Blue velvet it is, with a lovely white lace collar. I look proper posh in it. An’ our Joey got a scooter. He was that excited he wanted to take it out in the street to have a go on it, an’ it was seven o’clock in the morning.’ Her face lost some of the glow. ‘It would have been the best Christmas I’ve ever had if me dad had been home.’
Charles, both gloves now secured under his chin, reached into his pocket for the usual threepenny piece he kept specially for Polly. ‘Your father wasn’t at home, then?’
‘No, me dad’s been in hospital for a year. I thought I’d told yer about that, Mr Denholme.’
Charles shook his head. ‘No, I had no idea.’
‘Yeah, he’s been really ill.’ Polly pushed the carnation into the buttonhole of his coat and gave him a wide smile. ‘But he’s goin’ to get better soon, that’s what me mam says.’
‘He must have been very sick to have been in hospital so long.’
‘He’s still very sick, but not as bad as when he went in. I wish he’d hurry up an’ get better ’cos I don’t half miss him.’
Charles lowered his gaze. ‘Does your mother work, Polly?’
The girl nodded. ‘Me mam’s got two jobs. She had to, yer see, or we’d have had no money to live on. That’s why I work on a Saturday and Sunday, to help her out.’
Charles sighed inwardly as he took in the light material of the coat which was no barrier against the biting wind, and the wafer-thin soles of her shoes. He thought of his own two children, Rebecca and Justin. They were roughly the same age as Polly, but there the resemblance ended. They’d be curled up in front of a huge fire right now, with a bowl of fruit and a dish of sweets to hand. They had everything their heart desired and he couldn’t imagine any circumstances where they would stand in the freezing cold to earn a few coppers selling flowers. They would consider it beneath their dignity. But perhaps he shouldn’t judge them too harshly, they’d been born into wealth and had never known any other life.
‘I’ll have to go, Mr Denholme, I’ve got a customer.’ Polly grinned. ‘I daren’t let her go ’cos there’s not many of them around today.’
Charles pulled his glove on and turned up the collar of his coat. ‘Yes, and I’m due at the Club. My colleagues will think I’m not coming. I’ll see you next week, Polly.’
She gave him a wave and moved over to the customer who was trying to decide whether to splash out and have carnations or settle for the more modestly priced marguerites. Polly was delighted when she finally settled on the carnations and rewarded the woman with a bonny smile. Then she walked behind the buckets to pass the money over to Sarah Jane.
‘We’re not doin’ so bad, girl, considerin’ the weather.’ Sarah Jane was muffled up to the eyeballs. A thick shawl covered her head and came down to cross over on her chest, another covered her shoulders and a blanket was wrapped over her knees. With her hands tucked inside the blanket, the only part of her body exposed to the elements was her face. ‘I was expectin’ trade to be lousy.’
‘Like me Auntie Mary said, people don’t get their wages until Saturday an’ they’ve got to shop no matter what the weather’s like. Either that or do without food.’ Polly stamped her feet up and down to get the circulation going. Her chilblains were playing her up now, but they’d be a lot worse when she got home and into the warmth. ‘You shouldn’t be sittin’ here all day, Grandma, yer’ll catch yer death of cold.’
‘I’ve been doin’ it for sixty years, girl, an’ as I haven’t caught me death yet, I can’t see me catchin’ it now.’ Sarah Jane grinned, showing her toothless gums. ‘Me ma used to say I was too slow to catch cold, an’ I had to reach this age to prove her right.’
‘Surely yer won’t be goin’ to the pub tonight?’ Polly said. ‘Yer should stay in an’ keep warm.’
‘It’s warmer in the pub than in me room. An’ when I’ve got a couple of bottles of stout down me, I’ll be glowing with warmth.’ She gave a hearty chuckle. ‘Both inside and out.’
Polly shook her head as she went to serve a customer. She worried about the old woman, but what could you do with someone who was as stubborn as a mule?
While Polly was wrapping a bunch of flowers, Irish Mary came up behind her and nudged her arm. ‘Sure, do me eyes deceive me, or is it really the workin’ man himself I see walking down the street?’
Polly took the woman’s twopence, smiled her thanks, then turned her head to see Steve approaching with a beaming smile on his face. He was wearing a donkey jacket over his overalls and his hands were dug deep in his pockets. ‘I didn’t expect yer, Steve.’
‘I told yer I’d come straight from work an’ give yer a hand to clear away.’
Polly was so thrilled to see him, a warm glow spread through her body. ‘I thought the weather would put yer off.’
‘I promised to come an’ I always keep a promise. If I’d been knee-deep in snow, I’d still have come.’
Before Irish Mary moved away, she whispered, ‘That’s true love for yer, me darlin’, so it is.’
Polly blushed to the roots of her hair and hoped Steve hadn’t heard. If he had, he didn’t seem put out by it. ‘Go an’ say hello to Sarah Jane, she’s been askin’ me how yer were getting on at work.’
‘Hello, son.’ The old woman looked pleased to see him. ‘By, yer don’t half look grown-up now. A proper handsome man, that’s what yer are. If I were fifty years younger I’d be flutterin’ me eyelashes at yer.’ Her hand appeared from under the blanket to give him a pat on the arm. ‘On second thoughts I’d better say sixty-five years younger. That would be nearer the mark.’
At the next stall, Florrie grinned. ‘Ay, Sarah Jane, yer can be had up for cradle-snatchin’, yer know.’
‘Of course I know,’ Sarah Jane called back. ‘Didn’t I visit yer in jail when you were had up for the very same thing?’
Florrie laughed good-naturedly. ‘One of these days I’ll get the last word in with you, Sarah Jane.’
‘Yer’ll have to be up early in the mornin’ to do that, me girl!’
Steve gazed around, happy to be back with the flower-sellers and listening to their rowdy humour as they tried to entice the passers-by to buy their flowers. As his mam would say, they were the salt of the earth. They appeared as tough as old rope, would argue and fight with anyone. But when you got to know them you found the tough exterior hid a soft centre. He’d seen it many times while he’d been helping them during the school holidays. He remembered the day an old lady passed, weaving from one side of the pavement to the other, a hand pressed to her forehead. He’d thought she was drunk, but Nellie knew otherwise. He’d stood in amazement as Nellie and two of her friends rushed to help the woman. They sat her down on one of the stools and fussed over her until she came round. And when they found her confusion was due to losing her purse, they’d clubbed together and given her sixpence so she could buy a cup of tea in the Kardomah and pay her tram fare home.
‘How did work go, Steve?’ Polly came to stand next to him but kept her eye open for potential customers. ‘Are yer getting on all right with Mr Wilkinson?’
Steve grinned down at her. ‘He’s not exactly a laugh a minute, but he knows his job well. And he’s very patient with me, makes sure I see every move he makes. I suppose that’s more important than crackin’ jokes all day. An’ I did manage to make an impression on him today. It wasn’t a definite smile, mind yer, but it shows he must have some humour in him. I was tellin’ him somethin’ me mam had said, an’ his cheeks moved upwards. It was the nearest I’ve got to gettin’ a smile out of him.’
‘Take yer mam to work with yer, that should do the trick,’ Polly said. ‘If she can’t make him laugh then no one can.’
‘She’d be more likely to get me the sack.’ Steve hunched his should
ers and shivered. ‘God bless us, Polly, it’s freezin’ on this corner. Yer get the full blast of the wind.’
She pulled a face. ‘I’ll not be sorry when the day’s over. I’ve never been as cold as I am today.’
‘There’s not long to go now, then we’ll run all the way home to warm ourselves up.’ He made two attempts to speak before the words finally came out. ‘D’yer want to come in ours tonight an’ we can have a game of cards with me mam an’ dad?’
Polly’s face brightened. ‘Yeah, okay! Me mam doesn’t go out tonight so I won’t have to mind our Joey. But I won’t be able to stay very late ’cos I’m up early to go out with Auntie Mary.’ She thought of something that could take the shine off her happiness. ‘Yer don’t play for money, do yer?’
‘I’d have a job, seein’ as how I’m skint an’ happy. I have to work a week in hand, don’t forget.’ As Steve looked down into Polly’s pretty face he wouldn’t have swapped places with anyone. He was never happier than when he was in her company and couldn’t wait for the next two years to pass so he could ask her to be his girl. He’d always known she was the one for him, ever since the day her mother had asked him to walk her to school and he’d held her hand all the way. ‘We play for matchsticks.’
‘Oh, that’s all right then,’ Polly laughed. ‘I can pinch some of those off me mam. I can give her them back out of me winnings.’
‘Aggie!’ Ada’s face was a picture when her old friend opened the door to her. ‘What in the name of God are you doin’ here?’
‘Get in, girl, and let’s keep the cold out.’ Aggie closed the door and turned to grin into Ada’s startled face. ‘I got bored, didn’t I? Lookin’ at four bleedin’ walls all day, it’s enough to drive yer mad. So when Mr John called to see me, I asked him to run me up so I could have a natter.’
‘But yer’ve only been retired a week!’ Ada said as she took her coat off and hung it over her arm. ‘I had visions of yer sittin’ in yer rocking chair in front of a big fire with a bottle of stout on the table beside yer an’ a glass in yer hand.’
‘Come through,’ Aggie took her elbow. ‘Fanny’s got the kettle on for a cuppa.’
Fanny turned from the stove when the couple entered the room and there was a huge grin on her face. ‘She’s checkin’ up on us, Ada. Thinks we can’t manage without her. Bleedin’ cheek!’
‘Ay, don’t talk about cheeks to me!’ Aggie was beginning to feel like her old self after a week of not knowing what to do with herself. ‘When yer’ve sat on yer backside for a week, like I have, yer soon come to realise that the cheeks on yer face are not the only ones yer’ve got. I mean, yer can’t sit on them, can yer? The one question I’ve been askin’ meself all week, is, where would we be without our bleedin’ backsides? Go on, answer me that!’
‘Ooh, that’s too hard for me,’ Ada said, trying to keep a straight face. ‘I was never very clever at geography at school.’
Fanny was pinching her top lip, her mind ticking over. ‘Ay, is there such a word as backsideless?’
The three of them burst out laughing and it was as though the week without Aggie had never been. Fanny poured the tea out and handed the cups over as she eyed Aggie thoughtfully. ‘Yer didn’t by any chance fall out of that rockin’ chair, did yer? ’Cos I heard someone in the pub last night saying, “she’s off her rocker”. They weren’t talkin’ about you, were they, Aggie?’
‘Ho, ho, very bleedin’ funny, Fanny Delaney! Yer’ll cut yerself on that tongue of yours one of these days.’
‘I did that yesterday, girl. I thought there was a bit more meat on the mutton chop and sank me teeth into it. Trouble was, it was me tongue hangin’ out and I nearly bit the bleedin’ thing off.’
Once more the three of them doubled up, and that was how Mr John found them. ‘Can I join in the fun?’
‘What did yer bring her down for, Mr John?’ Fanny had soon learned that there was no reason to fear her boss. He wasn’t a slave-driver like most men she’d worked for. ‘We’ll get no work done while she’s here.’
John was smiling and Ada thought how young he looked sometimes. ‘She pulled rank on me, Fanny – said she was older than me and I should respect and obey my elders.’
‘She said all that without swearin’?’ Fanny pulled a face. ‘No, Mr John, our Aggie doesn’t speak that posh.’
Ada made for the broom cupboard where the cleaning utensils were kept. They’d wasted enough time. After all, they were getting paid to work and it wasn’t right to impose on Mr John’s good nature. ‘I’ll start upstairs. Is there anythin’ particular yer want doin’, Mr John?’
‘Only a list of what you want from Coopers. You haven’t forgotten that tomorrow is my turn to be host to my card-playing friends, have you, Ada?’
‘No, Mr John. I might be getting on a bit, but me memory’s still in good working order. I’ll give your bedroom a good going-over now, then I’ll have a bit more time to prepare the food tomorrow night. Don’t worry, everything’s under control.’
‘Ada, I’m not in the least worried. I have every faith in you.’
Aggie dug Fanny in the ribs. ‘It’s enough to make yer puke, isn’t it? Talk about teacher’s ruddy pet! He’s never told me he’s got every faith in me!’
‘Perhaps there’s a reason for that, Aggie.’
‘What d’yer mean, Fanny?’
‘Well, I mean like, perhaps he hasn’t got no faith in you!’
Ada grinned at Mr John as she passed him on her way out of the kitchen. They never spoke, but it was silently agreed between them that it was good to have Aggie back, even if it was only on a visit.
Ada was waiting to receive the visitors the following night, and she greeted them with a smile. They treated her with the greatest respect, were always friendly and had insisted she call them by their first names. The first through the door was Simon Ellis, a solicitor. As she took his coat, Jack Grimshaw came bounding up the stairs, his craggy face smiling as always. They exchanged pleasantries, complained about the cold weather and then made a bee-line for the fireplace where a bright fire was roaring up the chimney.
‘My wife thinks I’m crazy coming out on a night like this,’ Jack said, rubbing his hands together briskly. ‘She said it isn’t fit for man nor beast. I asked her which category I came under and do you know it took her a while to answer!’
‘Wives do have a habit of putting you down,’ Simon laughed as he spread his hands out in front of the flames. ‘My wife is excellent at cutting me down to size.’
Ada was smiling at them from the doorway when she heard Mr John’s voice growing louder as he neared the top of the stairs. Ada was expecting him to be with George Moss, the regular fourth member of their card school, but the man being led towards her was a complete stranger.
‘George has gone down with a bad cold, Ada, so Charles kindly offered to take his place for tonight.’ John made the introductions. ‘Charles Denholme, Mrs Perkins.’
Charles didn’t see the hand Ada extended to him, he was too busy inspecting her features. He had to be right. The name was the same, the rich dark curly hair, and those deep brown eyes. He reached for Ada’s hand and gripped it tight. ‘You’re Polly’s mother!’
Ada was taken aback. How on earth would this man know Polly? ‘You know my daughter?’
‘Oh, Polly and I are very good friends.’ Charles was delighted. ‘I buy my buttonhole from her every Saturday.’
A smile spread across Ada’s face. ‘You’re that Mr Denholme – Polly’s favourite customer! Wait until she knows I’ve met you.’
John was telling himself it was ridiculous to be jealous of Charles; after all, he was married and so was Ada. But was it really necessary for him to hold on to her hand for quite so long? ‘How did you know Ada was Polly’s mother, Charles? You couldn’t possible have just made a guess at it.’
‘Have you ever seen Polly, John?’ Charles asked. ‘They are as alike as two peas in a pod.’
John didn’t need that piece of
information; he was aware of the likeness. His knowledge came from the photograph he had hidden in his desk drawer. But that was his secret and must remain so. ‘Then Polly must be a very pretty girl.’
‘She’s more than that, old man.’ Charles released Ada’s hand. ‘She’s a very special girl and I’ve grown quite fond of her. If I’d known Mrs Perkins was going to be here tonight, I’d have insisted she bring Polly in the blue velvet dress she got for Christmas.’
Ada was dumbstruck. ‘She told you about that?’
Charles laughed. ‘And about Joey’s scooter. But you mustn’t think she goes around repeating everything you say or do, because she doesn’t. It was I who asked her what she got for Christmas. And with her in her blue dress, and you in that dress, you must make a very attractive couple.’
Ada could see John was getting fidgety and sought to bring the conversation to an end. ‘Oh, Polly’s dress is much nicer than this. I got this off the rag and bone man.’
Charles roared with laughter. ‘You both have the same sense of humour, too!’
‘I’ll see to the drinks, Mr John,’ Ada said. ‘Your friends will think they’re being neglected.’
‘Quite right, Ada!’ Jack called. ‘I’ve usually had at least two whiskies by this time. Why the hell is Charles monopolizing you? We’ve known you longer than him – tell him to get to the back of the queue.’
Charles took it in good humour. They all belonged to the same Club and had known each other for years. He didn’t seek out Ada’s attention for the rest of the evening, but his eyes watched while his mind wondered. When it was time for Ada to leave, she bade them all good night and promised Charles she would tell Polly how they’d met. Then, accompanied by John, she made her way downstairs.
‘Thank you, Ada, you have my gratitude as usual.’ John held the door open for her. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you.’ He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. ‘Good night, my dear.’
‘Good night, Mr John.’
John was surprised the next day when one of the office girls came up to say there was a Mr Denholme to see him. What on earth did Charles want? Why wasn’t he at his office? ‘Show him up, please, Mary.’