by Joan Jonker
‘Mam, he’s trying to work his way back in,’ Peter said softly. ‘Don’t you see that?’
‘Yes, I do see that. But he is your father and one day you might feel differently about him.’
‘No chance!’ Colin said. ‘I don’t ever want to set eyes on him again and neither does Peter.’
‘What about Arthur?’ Peter asked. ‘You’re going to marry him soon, and he won’t be very happy if me dad keeps popping up.’
‘I’m not going to upset Arthur by telling him, and I don’t want either of you to mention it. I don’t want anything to do with your dad but I want to satisfy meself that you know what you’re doing.’
‘Mam, this has been a happy house since he went away, it certainly wasn’t while he was here,’ Colin said. ‘Me and Peter haven’t forgotten how he left you swinging to bring the three of us up on your own. Never once did he write to ask how you were managing or if we were all right. We could have been dead for all he cared.’ Colin pushed his plate away. ‘Me and Peter know what we’re talking about and we don’t want to see him again. We don’t even think of him as our father.’
Peter nodded. ‘Colin’s right, Mam. When you marry Arthur he’ll be our dad. He’s been more of a father to us than our real one ever was.’
Colin picked up his plate. ‘If he calls again, don’t let him in. Tell him what we said and send him on his way.’ He stopped halfway to the kitchen. ‘Promise?’
Vera nodded. ‘I promise.’
Elsie Smith was cleaning the inside of her windows with a chammy leather when Danny passed. Never one to hide her curiosity, she rested her clenched fists on the window ledge. She heard him knock at Vera’s door and pressed her face against the glass pane waiting to see if he went inside. He was smiling and Elsie saw his mouth moving but couldn’t hear what he was saying. Then she saw his expression change to one of anger and heard him shout, ‘Let me in!’
There was silence for a few seconds, then Danny’s arms started to flay as though he was shadow boxing. ‘Fred’s right,’ Elsie spoke aloud, her teeth gnashing so hard her false dentures were dislodged. ‘He’s got a flamin’ nerve coming round here throwing his weight around.’
Then Elsie saw Vera being pulled into the street and blows being rained on to her body. One arm of Vera’s was covering her face while with the other she was trying to push Danny away.
Elsie threw the chammy leather down and ran to the kitchen where she picked up a long-handled sweeping brush. ‘He’s not gettin’ away with that!’
Danny never knew what hit him. The first blow from the brush sent him reeling against the wall, a look of amazement on his face. When he saw Elsie brandishing the brush he roared with anger, ‘Get back in yer house before I flatten yer, yer nosy faggot.’
By this time the noise had brought several women to their doors. Had it been necessary every one of them would have gone to Vera’s aid. None would have stood by and let a man beat a woman. But one look at Elsie Smith’s face told them their help wasn’t needed. Only the size of six pennyworth of copper, she stood her ground, her thin lips pursed, her eyes blazing. Pushing the bristles of the brush in Danny’s face, she taunted, ‘Go on, flatten me, if yer dare.’
Danny made a grab for the brush but Elsie was too quick for him and side stepped. One of the women called out to ask if she should run up to the police station but Elsie shook her head. Although she looked fierce, she was enjoying every minute of it. Wait till she told Fred! This bit of news would get his nose out of the Echo. ‘Well? Didn’t yer say yer were going to flatten me?’
Danny looked at the group of women who had gathered, their arms folded, their faces telling him they meant business. He spread his hands out and spoke quietly, ‘I only want to talk to me wife. What’s wrong with that?’
Vera was leaning against the wall, her head dropped in shame. She was rubbing her arms where Danny’s punches had landed. It had never been known for Elsie Smith to show compassion, but seeing Vera’s distressed face filled her with anger. Once more the brush was pushed into Danny’s face. ‘Speak with yer hands, do yer, eh?’ Elsie jabbed the hard bristles into the now frightened man’s neck. ‘On yer way, Danny Jackson, before I let yer have it over the head.’
Danny made one more effort. He looked at Vera and pleaded, ‘Tell them I only want to talk to yer.’
Vera met his eyes. ‘You are not my husband and I do not want you in my house.’ Her gaze swept from Elsie to the group of neighbours. ‘We are divorced.’
A cackle left Elsie’s mouth. ‘There y’are then.’ She lifted the brush as though to bring it down on Danny’s head and he took to his heels and fled down the street with Elsie in hot pursuit, the jeers of the women ringing in his ears.
Arthur knocked on the door and smiled when it was opened by Elsie. ‘I’ve come to thank you.’ He held out his hand. ‘My name’s Arthur Kennedy and I’m a friend of Vera’s.’
Elsie shook the outstretched hand, her eyes bright with curiosity. Now she’d find out what was going on between this man and Vera. ‘Won’t you come in?’
Arthur accepted a cup of tea and although he’d been told what had happened that afternoon, he listened attentively to Elsie’s version. ‘You were very brave and I can’t thank you enough,’ Arthur said. ‘Vera’s had enough troubles without Danny making more for her.’
Fred took an instant liking to Arthur and they got on like a house on fire. Over the next half hour Elsie was in her element listening to Arthur talking about his sons, and how he and Vera were getting married when they could find a bigger house.
A smile crossed Elsie’s thin face. Fred had praised her no end when she’d told him what happened. Told her he was proud of her, and he’d never said anything like that to her for donkey’s years. And the neighbours had made a fuss of her, too. Everyone said how brave she’d been, but Elsie knew it wasn’t bravery that had set her on Danny. In fact, if she’d taken time out to think, she’d never have dared stand up to him. It was the anger that had surfaced so quickly that sent her out with the brush. Anger that a man should raise his hand to a woman. Her and Fred might have had their differences, but in all their married life he’d never once raised his hand to her.
‘Guess who’s comin’ to see me tonight?’
‘How many guesses do I get, chick?’ Bill smiled. ‘There’s a helluva lot of people in the world.’
‘Yer’d never get it in a month of Sundays.’ Eileen passed the sheet of notepaper across the table. ‘Jean Simpson.’
Bill raised his brows. ‘The girl you’ve been writing to in America?’
Eileen nodded. ‘I worked with ’er in the munitions factory. She married a Yank and went to live over there when the war was over. She’s home on holiday to see her family.’
‘It costs a few bob to come from there.’ Bill handed the letter back. ‘She must have married into money.’
‘He didn’t seem to be short when ’e was here, but then none of the Yanks were. Our poor buggers were on about a shilling a week and the Yanks were loaded.’ Eileen folded the letter and grinned. ‘Our boys used to complain because the Americans got all the girls. They had plenty of money to give them a good time, and they could get stockings and lipsticks and things that yer couldn’t buy here for love nor money.’
Bill took a packet of cigarettes from his pocket. ‘What time is she coming and do I have to get changed?’
‘Seven o’clock and no, yer don’t ’ave to change.’ Eileen picked up his empty plate. ‘I hope Billy and the girls are ’ome handy so I can get their dinners over with. I’d like the place tidy when Jean comes.’
Eileen had just washed the last plate when the knocker sounded. ‘I’ll go,’ she shouted, wiping her hands on the end of the tea towel Maggie was using to dry the dishes.
Eileen stared open-mouthed at the slim, elegant woman smiling up at her. ‘My God, yer look like a film star!’
‘You haven’t changed a bit,’ Jean laughed. ‘Still the same Eileen.’
‘I do
n’t know whether that’s a compliment or an insult.’ Eileen closed the door. ‘Come in an’ meet the family.’
Billy was on his way out but stayed long enough to shake hands. ‘You might still be here when I get back.’
‘He’s a nice-looking boy,’ Jean said when he’d gone. ‘I wonder who he takes after?’
‘Ay, none of yer lip, missus, or yer’ll be goin’ back to America with two broken legs.’
Joan and Edna came downstairs together, both ready to go out. Joan’s eyes filled with envy when she took in Jean’s clothes, make-up and hair style. Although her parents didn’t know about Augie, she was still seeing him and wanted to question Jean about life in America. See if it really was as good as he said it was. Her face was animated as she listened and she would have stayed longer if Eileen hadn’t interrupted.
‘Ay, aren’t you two goin’ out? Me mate comes to see me after four years an’ I can’t get a word in edgeways.’
Reluctantly, Joan stood up. ‘Are you coming again before you go back?’
‘I sure am.’ Jean spoke with a slow American drawl. ‘I want to catch up on all your Mom’s news.’ She looked from one sister to the other. ‘You look like twins.’
Edna was delighted because she thought her sister was very pretty, but not for the world would she let her know that. She was big-headed enough as it was. ‘If I thought that I’d put me head in a gas oven.’
Joan gave a sneer. ‘I’ll give you the money for the gas.’
‘We’ll have less of that,’ Eileen said. ‘On yer way before there’s skin an’ hair flyin’.’
Edna smiled at Jean before leaving. ‘I’ll probably see you later. I’m only goin’ to the Palace with Janet to see Larry Parkes in “Jolson Sings Again”.’
Bill chatted with Jean for a while, then said he felt like a pint. ‘I’ll leave you two girls to catch up on the news.’
After Maggie had retired to her room, Eileen made herself comfortable on the couch. ‘Well, how’s life in America? Is it like yer see on the pictures?’
Jean laughed. ‘For some it is. I’m lucky, Ivan’s people have money and we want for nothing. But some of the English girls were in for a shock when they got there. There’s a lot of slums, and when I say slums, honey, I mean slums. Far worse than anything we’ve got over here. And some of the girls I travelled over with found themselves living in houses little better than huts. In fact, hundreds of them have come home again.’
While Jean was talking, Eileen weighed her up. Gone was the bleached hair with an inch of dark root showing, and the eyebrows which she’d always shaved off had grown again and were now nicely arched.
‘Well, you seem to ’ave done all right for yerself,’ Eileen said. ‘Yer look proper glamorous in yer nice clothes.’ Her body started to shake with laughter. ‘Yer look like that ugly ducklin’ that turned into a swan.’
Jean joined in the laughter. ‘It was Ivan’s mother who waved her magic wand. She nearly had a fit when she saw what her beloved son had married. She didn’t say it, but I knew she thought he’d lost the run of his senses. The day after I arrived she tactfully said she’d show me around the shops. By the time she’d finished with me, even Ivan didn’t recognise me. My hair had been dyed back to its natural colour and she’d bought me a whole new wardrobe. Everything to her taste, of course, I had no say in the choice of clothes she bought. When she finally decided I was fit to be seen, and not before, I was introduced to the rest of the family and their high-falutin friends.’
‘Ah, one of those is she?’ Eileen nodded knowingly. ‘An’ what did Ivan ’ave to say?’
‘If you knew his mother, you wouldn’t have to ask that. When she cracks the whip, everybody jumps.’
‘Yer get on all right with Ivan, don’t yer?’
‘Yes, he’s a good husband and we get along fine. But he’s under his mother’s thumb and what she says goes.’
‘Come in the kitchen while I make us a cuppa.’ Eileen heaved herself off the couch. ‘We can talk out there.’
While they waited for the kettle to boil, Jean talked of the house she shared with Ivan, the swimming pool in the large garden, the cocktail parties and the daily woman she had to do her cleaning.
Eileen poured the boiling water into the brown earthenware teapot. ‘Yer’ve landed on yer feet by the sound of things.’
Jean wrinkled her nose. ‘It’s all right if you like that sort of thing.’ She turned the conversation to Eileen. ‘You’ve got a nice house here.’
It was Eileen’s turn to wrinkle her nose. ‘Kid, I’d go back to me old house any day. The people were more friendly. It’s too quiet round ’ere for my likin’. All yer ever get from the neighbours is “Good morning, Mrs Gillmoss”. I’ve been ’ere four years an’ ’ave never ’ad a proper conversation with any of them, except Mary of course, and Doris next door.’
They carried their tea through and began to reminisce about the days they worked together. ‘I still miss it, yer know,’ Eileen said. ‘I often think about Maisie Phillips and Ethel Hignet. And poor Willy Turnbull, the way I used to pull the poor sod’s leg. I’d love to see them all again.’
‘You’re going to.’ Jean laughed as Eileen’s mouth dropped. ‘I’ve been writing to Maisie Phillips and I’ve arranged a little get-together for next week. Maisie, Ethel, you and me. And Mary if she’d like to come.’
‘Well, I’ll be blowed! You live thousands of miles away an’ yer know more than I do!’ Eileen rubbed her hands together with glee. ‘Ooh, I’m made up, honest. It’ll be smashin’ seein’ them again. I wonder if they’ve changed?’
Jean tapped the side of her nose. ‘You’ll have to wait and see.’
Edna came home with her eyes and nose red from crying. ‘It was a lovely picture, Mam, but awful sad.’ Her eyes landed on Jean. ‘Does Larry Parkes live anywhere near you?’
Jean laughed. ‘Honey, America is a very big country. I’d say Hollywood was about two thousand miles away.’
Edna looked disappointed. ‘He’s lovely.’ She said goodnight and made her way to bed to dream of the handsome man who blacked his face, loved his wife but loved singing more.
Eileen and Bill had just climbed into bed when they heard Billy’s voice as his footsteps pounded up the stairs. ‘Mam, are yer asleep yet?’
‘What a bloody stupid question!’ Eileen grinned at Bill as their son burst through the door. ‘In the name of God, Billy, is the place on fire?’
‘Mam, we’ve got the house!’ Billy was so excited he could hardly get the words out quickly enough. ‘Mrs Radford saw the landlord today and he said we could have it when the Bowers leave.’
‘Oh, son!’ The bed springs creaked in protest as Eileen rocked back and forth. ‘That’s marvellous news!’
Billy grinned, running his fingers through his hair. ‘I haven’t seen the Bowers yet, but I’ll call tomorrow and find out if they’ve got a date for sailing.’ He sat on the side of the bed, his heart thumping so loud he thought it would burst out of his body. ‘I can’t believe it, it seems too good to be true.’
‘You’re very lucky, son,’ Bill said. ‘There’s not many couples have a house ready to move into when they get married.’
‘I’ve told Mavis there’s no more nights out for us, we’ll have to save every penny. If I walk to work every day, that’ll save a few bob a week and it all mounts up.’
‘Have you an’ Mavis decided where yer gettin’ married?’ Eileen asked. ‘And is it goin’ to be a quiet affair?’
‘We’re gettin’ married at the Blessed Sacrament and I’m goin’ to see Father Murphy tomorrow night so he can arrange to have the banns read out.’ Billy started to blush. ‘Mavis wants a white wedding an’ I was wondering if Auntie Mary would make her dress?’
‘I’m sure she’d be glad to.’ The bed shook when Eileen burst out laughing. ‘Mary’s goin’ to ’ave her work cut out over the next few weeks ’cos she’s makin’ my dress as well, an’ with my size it’s once round me an’ twice r
ound the gas works.’
‘What about the bridesmaids, son?’ Bill asked. ‘Or aren’t you going to have any?’
‘We’ve talked about it, but haven’t decided yet. We’ll have to go careful ’cos we don’t have much money.’ Billy eased himself off the bed. ‘We’ll sort it all out when we know for sure when the Bowers are going. Anyway I’m off to bed. Not that I’ll be able to sleep ’cos me nerves are as taut as a violin string.’
‘You an’ me, too, sunshine!’ Eileen said. ‘I’m wide awake now.’
‘Goodnight and God bless, Mam. Goodnight, Dad.’
‘Ooh, I won’t ’alf miss him.’ Eileen picked at the sheet. ‘I love every hair on ’is ’ead.’
Bill lay down on his side and pulled the clothes up to his chin. ‘Your husband has got to go to work tomorrow and needs his shut-eye. So if you intend staying awake all night, chick, don’t hold a conversation with yourself, please?’
‘Don’t worry.’ Eileen patted his shoulder. ‘I’ll talk in a whisper an’ I won’t argue with meself. If I get on yer nerves, just clock me one.’
Bill suddenly remembered what Arthur had told him about Danny fighting with Vera. What with Jean staying until it was time for them to go to bed, he hadn’t had the chance to talk to Eileen. He half turned, intending to tell her, then changed his mind. She had enough to think about as it was, and if he gave her anything more to worry about she’d never close her eyes. He’d tell her in the morning. ‘Goodnight, chick, try and get some sleep.’
Chapter Eighteen
‘Mam, I’ve got a hot-pot cookin’ in the oven on a low light, so will yer keep yer eye on it for me? I’ll be ’ome before the gang get in from work.’ Eileen, standing in front of the mirror on the wall in Maggie’s room, gave her hair a pat. ‘I’ve been in bloody agony all night sleepin’ in me dinky curlers, and for all the good it’s done I needn’t ’ave bothered ’cos me hair still looks a mess.’ She winked at Maggie through the mirror. ‘Still, we can’t ’ave brains and beauty, can we?