by Joan Jonker
‘I don’t know what to say.’ Arthur coughed to clear his throat. ‘I should say “no”, it’s too much to ask of you. But right now, Eileen, I need help more than I’ve ever needed it.’ Arthur pressed two fingers to his eyelids to relieve the pressure. ‘I’d be more than grateful to take you up on your offer, and you have my heartfelt thanks.’
‘Oh, it’s not only me,’ Eileen said, her hand waving away his thanks. ‘Yer’ve got some good friends, yer know, Arthur, and they’ve all offered to ’elp. After all, what are friends for if they’re not there when yer need them?’ Eileen put her hands on the chair and pushed herself up. ‘I’ll put the kettle on for a cuppa. David and Gordon should be back soon and they’ll be made up to see you.’ She stopped by the kitchen door and turned her head. ‘When Bill and Harry get in from work, we’ll get our heads together and sort things out.’
Arthur took the cup Eileen held out to him. ‘I’ll give you the money for the food, but won’t it be a lot of work for you to make a spread for so many?’
‘Nah! There’ll only be a dozen and that’ll be child’s play.’ Eileen took a sip of tea, watching Arthur over the rim of her cup. ‘Anyway, I’m not doin’ the eats. Me mam and Vera are doin’ them.’ She saw the change of expression on Arthur’s face at the mention of Vera.
‘Have you seen Vera, then?’
‘Yeah, she called this mornin’. She won’t come to the funeral because of Carol, but she’ll be ’ere to give me mam a hand.’
They were silent as they drank their tea, each wrapped up in their own thoughts and neither knowing that they were both thinking of the same person. And both with hope in their hearts.
Chapter Fourteen
‘Can I take your key, Dad, in case I’m late tonight?’ Joan was standing in front of her father, dressed up to the nines, with her hair and make-up perfect. ‘I’m going to the Grafton and it means getting two buses.’
Eileen was sitting at the dining table, the Echo spread out in front of her. Joan never asked her for a favour. She always went to Bill because she knew he was a soft touch, believed everything she told him. But Eileen was wise to her daughter. She’d found her out in so many lies, she now took everything she told her with a pinch of salt.
‘What time’s the dance over?’ Bill asked.
‘It’ll be late tonight because Ivy Benson and her band are on. About twelve o’clock, I imagine.’ Joan saw the look of doubt cross Bill’s face and hurried on to say, ‘Oh, but I won’t stay till the end. I might even be home before you go to bed.’
‘Aye, an’ pigs might fly,’ Eileen muttered, rustling the paper.
Joan turned around and glared. ‘I think you forget I’m turned eighteen now, I’m not a kid.’
‘Eighteen or not, I don’t like the idea of you walking all that way home if you miss the last bus,’ Bill said. ‘It’s not safe for a girl to be walking the streets that time of night.’
Joan’s attitude changed and she said meekly, ‘I promise I won’t miss the last bus, honest, Dad.’
‘Make sure you don’t.’ Bill slipped the front door key off his keyring and handed it to her. ‘You be in here by twelve o’clock at the latest.’
Having got her own way, Joan smiled. ‘Thanks, Dad.’
‘She’s got you for a right sucker,’ Eileen said when they heard the front door bang. ‘You always give in to her.’
‘She’s too old now to tell her to be in by ten o’clock. You’re too hard on her, chick. I remember going to the Grafton with you when we were her age, and your mother never used to worry about what time we got in.’
‘Because me mam knew who I was with, that’s why she didn’t worry.’ Eileen glowered. ‘We never know who our Joan’s with ’cos she never brings any of her friends home. Don’t you think it’s funny that the only friend of hers we’ve seen is the one from Hanford Avenue? And that’s only every Preston Guild.’
Edna was sitting quietly in a chair by the window, a romantic novel open on her knee. She’d been reading when Joan came into the room, and kept her finger on the line she was up to as she watched her sister through lowered lids. If me mam and dad knew what our Joan got up to, they’d have a duck egg, she thought. She never brought a girl friend home because she hadn’t got one. She was only interested in men, and according to what she told Edna each night, in the privacy of their bedroom, it was a different bloke every night. And they were always handsome, like Clarke Gable or Errol Flynn, had plenty of money and were smashing dancers. But if these blokes were all as good as Joan said, how come they were replaced the following night by another film star look-alike? Edna went back to the heroine in her book. If her sister landed herself in hot water it would be her own stupid fault ’cos she was asking for it.
‘Bill, wake up.’ Eileen shook Bill’s shoulder. ‘It’s one o’clock and our Joan’s not in yet.’
Bill turned on his side, squinting in the glare of the light. ‘What’s that, chick?’ He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. ‘Did you say our Joan’s not in yet?’
‘No, and it’s one o’clock.’
Bill shot up. ‘Are you sure?’
Eileen clicked her teeth. ‘Of course I’m sure! I ’ad a feelin’ she knew she was goin’ to be late, so I stayed awake, listenin’ for ’er. But I expected her before now an’ I’m worried.’
Bill slid his legs over the side of the bed and reached for his trousers which were folded over the back of a chair. ‘She probably missed the last bus and has had to walk.’
‘I wouldn’t mind if I knew that’s what’s ’appened, but I’ve been lyin’ here thinkin’ all sorts of things.’
‘I’ll get dressed and go and look for her.’ Bill struggled into the legs of his trousers. ‘She’ll get a good telling off for this.’
Eileen made a pot of tea when Bill went out and as she sat at the table her inside was churning over. It was dangerous for a young girl to be out at this time, you never knew who was hanging around. And when Bill came in, shaking his head, her nerves were at breaking point.
‘I walked as far as the station, but there’s not a soul to be seen,’ Bill said. ‘It was no use walking any further because I don’t know which direction she’ll be coming from.’
‘Here, get this hot tea down yer.’ When Eileen saw Bill’s worried face, her anxiety was mixed with anger. If that little so-and-so was out there gallivanting while they were worried sick, she wouldn’t half give her what for. ‘You go to bed an’ I’ll wait up for ’er.’
‘I couldn’t sleep, not knowing where she is,’ Bill said. ‘I’ll stay up with you.’
‘It’s daft both of us sittin’ ’ere an’ you need yer sleep more than I do.’ When Bill went to object, Eileen said, ‘She’s probably strollin’ ’ome with some of ’er friends, without a care in the world. She won’t know we’re sittin’ here on pins.’
‘Well, give me a call if she’s not in soon,’ Bill said, shaking his head as he walked through the door thinking of what he’d say to his daughter the next morning.
But when Bill came down at half past six, followed closely by Billy, Eileen shrugged her shoulders. ‘She’s not come ’ome.’
‘And you’ve been up all night?’ Bill pulled his braces over his shoulders and fastened them to the buttons on his trousers. ‘Where the hell can she have got to?’
‘Don’t ask me,’ Eileen said, putting their breakfast plates on the table. ‘I’ve been sittin’ ’ere worried to death.’
‘What’s up?’ Billy yawned, stretching his arms over his head.
When Eileen explained, Billy raised his eyes to the ceiling. ‘I wouldn’t worry about our Joan, she’s quite capable of taking care of herself.’
‘I keep tellin’ meself not to worry, that if there was anythin’ wrong we’d ’ave heard by now. They say bad news travels fast.’
‘I’ll have something to say to her when . . .’ Bill broke off when there was a knock on the front door. ‘This’ll be her now.’
‘It won’t, yer know,’ Eil
een said, hurrying along the hall. ‘Don’t forget, yer gave ’er yer key.’
It was Mary standing in the pathway. ‘I’ve just had a phone call from your Joan. She said she missed the last bus so she stayed at her friend’s house.’
‘I’ll break ’er bloody neck for ’er!’ Eileen roared. ‘D’yer know, kid, I’ve been up all night, and Bill was up half the night, worried sick?’
‘I told her she was very naughty and that you’d be worried,’ Mary said, ‘but she said she’d explain tonight, and then put the phone down.’
‘I’ll phone ’er, when I get me hands on her.’ Eileen’s face was red with anger. ‘The little flamer!’
‘I’ll see you later,’ Mary said, hurrying away. ‘I’ve got me mam’s breakfast on.’
When she got home, Mary said, ‘Eileen’s in a hell of a temper. She’s been up all night.’
Harry broke off a piece of toast and popped it in his mouth. ‘You can’t blame her being in a temper. Can you imagine what we’d be like if Emma was Joan’s age and she stayed out all night?’ He reached for another slice of toast. ‘I know you’ll say I’m bad minded, but I’d like to bet it wasn’t a girl she spent the night with.’
‘Oh, you can’t say that, Harry!’ Mary said. ‘The girl’s probably telling the truth.’
‘And I’m a monkey’s uncle,’ was Harry’s answer.
Joan was first home from work and Eileen was waiting for her, hands on hips. ‘Well, what ’ave yer got to say for yerself?’
Joan raised her brows, a look of disdain on her face. If only her mother could see herself. Big, fat, untidy and loud mouthed. I bet she never had many boys running after her when she was young. ‘I told Mary to tell you I missed the bus and slept at my friend’s house. There’s no law against that, is there?’
‘Don’t you be so hoity-toity with me, you little madam, or yer’ll feel the back of me hand.’ Eileen gritted her teeth. ‘Now, I want to know where you were all night. What’s the name of yer friend an’ where does she live?’
‘Her name’s Doreen and she lives in, er, Everton.’
‘Whereabouts in Everton?’ Eileen asked, trying hard to keep a rein on her temper. ‘What’s the name of the road?’
Caught unawares by the question, Joan floundered for a second. Then she brazened it out. ‘I didn’t take any notice of the name of the road but it’s up near Liverpool’s football ground.’
‘Yer can tell that to the marines,’ Eileen growled. ‘I don’t believe a word yer’ve said. It’s a terrible thing to say about me own daughter but you are a liar, Joan, and yer don’t fool me for one minute. But I’m not sayin’ any more, I’ll let yer dad sort yer out.’
There was an uneasy tension round the table as they ate their meal, and as soon as they were finished, Billy and Edna made for their bedrooms out of the way. Joan stood up to follow, but Bill motioned for her to stay. He moved from the table to his chair and took out his packet of cigarettes, all the time his eyes on his daughter’s face.
He waited till his cigarette was lit, inhaled deeply, then said, ‘Well, I think you’ve got some explaining to do, so let’s have it.’
Joan put on her timid, little girl look and said she’d left the Grafton early enough to get the bus but it drove away just as she got to the bus stop. ‘I was frightened to walk home on my own, Dad, so Doreen said I could sleep at their house. I couldn’t let you know because we’re not on the phone and it was too late to ring Auntie Mary’s.’
Eileen shook her head slowly in disbelief. What a bloody good actress her daughter was! So different in her attitude now she was talking to her father. Eileen could see by Bill’s face that he was being talked around and she pushed her chair back in disgust. He’s falling for it again, she thought as she ran the water on the dirty dishes. She can twist him around her little finger and he can’t see it. ‘He’s making a rod for his own back and mine,’ Eileen muttered as she banged a plate down on the draining board in temper. ‘He’ll come to his senses when it’s too late.’
‘Well, I never expected to see you tonight.’ Eileen’s face showed her surprise when Bill ushered Vera into the room. ‘Where’s Carol?’
‘Colin’s having a night in, so he’s minding her.’ Vera’s eyes were shining. ‘I’ve got some news for you.’
‘I ’ope it’s good news ’cos I’ve ’ad me belly full of bad news. I need somethin’ to cheer me up.’
‘Where is everybody?’ Vera asked. ‘Are they all out?’
‘Billy’s gone to see Mavis, an’ the two girls are upstairs. Edna’s washin’ ’er hair, and Joan’s got a fit of the sulks because we wouldn’t let ’er go out. She’s probably sittin’ on ’er bed callin’ me an’ Bill fit to burn.’ Eileen clicked her tongue. ‘The little faggot stayed out all night and ’ad us worried to death. And for once, Bill put ’is foot down an’ made her stay in tonight as a punishment.’
Vera couldn’t wait any longer to tell her news. ‘I heard today that me divorce is coming through.’
‘Oh, smashin’!’ A smile lit up Eileen’s face. ‘So yer’ll soon be a free agent, eh?’
‘Yes.’ Vera rubbed her hands together, ‘I didn’t expect it so soon, but from what the letter said, because I filed for it on the grounds of desertion, and it’s four years since Danny walked out, there’s no opposition and it will go through quickly.’
Bill came in from the kitchen with a cup of tea in each hand. ‘I’m sorry we’ve nothing stronger to celebrate with, Vera.’ He smiled as he handed her a cup. ‘It is good news, isn’t it?’
My goodness, Eileen thought, he hasn’t half changed. At one time the very thought of anyone getting divorced would have horrified him. You made your vows at the altar to love, honour and obey, and in Bill’s eyes those vows were not to be broken. Mind you, he wasn’t the only one who had changed since the war. I mean, who’d have ever thought the day would come when women would be seen smoking in the street, or going into a pub without being accompanied by a man?
‘D’yer think yer’ll ever get married again, Vera?’ Eileen’s face was a picture of innocence. ‘Do yer good to ’ave a man about the ’ouse again.’
Blushing, Vera pushed her hair behind her ears. ‘Now who would have me, at my age?’
‘Ay, don’t be runnin’ yerself down.’ Eileen leaned forward. ‘Yer a nice-lookin’ woman an’ any man with half a brain would grab yer, aren’t I right, Bill?’
Bill knew Eileen was probing and his eyes flashed a warning. ‘Vera will sort her own life out, given time.’ He smiled at Vera. ‘Eileen is right about one thing, though, you are an attractive woman, Vera, and you’d make some man a very good wife.’
‘If yer did get married again, it would ’ave to be in a register office,’ Eileen said, ignoring the look on Bill’s face which was telling her to drop the subject. ‘They wouldn’t marry you in a church.’
‘Eileen, if the time ever came when I did marry again, that would be the least of me worries.’ Vera wasn’t to be drawn. ‘But you know what they say about “chance being a fine thing”.’
Upstairs, Edna sat on the side of her bed watching Joan file her long nails before covering them with a bright red nail varnish. ‘Where did you get to last night?’
Joan completed the painting of one nail before looking up. ‘I told you, I went to the Grafton and missed the last bus home.’ Her face was thoughtful as she studied Edna’s face. ‘If I tell you, will you promise not to tell me Mam?’
‘I’ve never clatted on you before, have I?’ Edna stood up and turned the bedclothes back. ‘But if yer don’t want to tell me, then don’t bother.’
But Joan wanted to tell her. She’d had such a marvellous time the night before, she was dying to tell someone. ‘If you repeat this to anyone, I’ll never speak to you again.’ She screwed the top back on the nail varnish bottle and put it on the chest of drawers. The sullen look disappeared from her face as she began to speak. ‘I did go to the Grafton, and I met this American. He asked me for a dance
, then stayed with me when it was over.’ Her eyes were bright with excitement. ‘He was lovely, Edna, very good looking and very polite.’
‘What was his name?’ Edna had climbed into bed and was leaning back against the headboard.
‘August, but they call him Augie.’
‘August!’ Edna tittered. ‘What sort of a name is that when it’s out?’
‘If you’re going to make fun, I’m not telling you any more.’
Edna held her hand up. ‘Sorry! I promise I won’t laugh.’
‘Anyway, he was with a friend who’s going out with a girl from Woolton, and they joined us. The boys are stationed at Burtonwood, and Valerie, that’s Augie’s friend’s girl, often goes up to the base ’cos they’ve got a bar there and there’s a games room. Anyway, she was going back with them last night, and they asked me to go too.’
Edna’s mouth gaped. ‘You went to Burtonwood?’
‘The boys were in a Jeep, and they said they’d get me back home for twelve o’clock. But I was enjoying meself so much, I didn’t realise the time until it was one o’clock. I couldn’t come home then because me mam knows there’s no buses running that late.’
Edna was all ears. ‘Where did you stay, then?’
‘At the camp.’ Joan heard Edna’s sharp intake of breath and hurried on. ‘I slept with Valerie, so you can take that look off your face. And Augie ran me to work this morning in the Jeep.’
‘You’re asking for trouble, our Joan. If me mam and dad knew that, they’d kill you.’ Edna wrapped her arms around her drawn-up knees. ‘I’ve heard the women in work talking about the girls who go to Burtonwood and they say they’re no good. And they say that most of the Yanks have got wives or girlfriends back in America.’
‘Augie’s not like that,’ Joan protested. ‘He hasn’t got a girl back home, and he didn’t try to get fresh, he only kissed me. I was supposed to meet him tonight, but they wouldn’t let me out.’