by Joan Jonker
‘Don’t tell us, Mam, show us! No matter how good our Ruthie is, she’ll never be as good as you. Go on, be a sport.’
‘Well, I’ll have a go but I probably won’t remember it word for word. I’ll do me best for yer, though.’ The chair was scraped back and after squaring her shoulders and hoisting up her bosom, Molly assumed the facial expressions of her best mate. Because she’d faced her across the table every day for so long, she knew exactly when the eyes would be narrowed, when the head would shake or nod and the contortions her mouth would go through. And because the frail old lady, who was loved by everyone, was shaking with laughter, Molly put everything she had into her performance. She felt well rewarded when a thin, veined hand reached out to grip hers.
‘That was very funny, Molly, it could have been Nellie standing there except for the difference in size. It reminded me of all the times the two of you have made me laugh when I thought I had nothing to laugh about.’
‘Then make sure yer have a good snooze tomorrow afternoon, sunshine, so ye’re bright eyed and bushy tailed for when Nellie comes. Yer’ll get plenty of laughs then, ’cos yer’ll have the real genuine article here, and she never fails.’
‘Perhaps we’d be better off staying in,’ Phil said. ‘We’d probably have more fun.’
‘No, we’re not staying in!’ Doreen was quick to say. ‘I haven’t had the chance to have a really good talk with our Jill for ages, and we’ll have loads to tell each other.’
‘I know yer will, love, and I’ve got loads to tell Steve.’ Phil’s blush went unnoticed as he added, ‘All about work, of course.’
‘Oh, it’s yerself at last, Auntie Molly.’ When Rosie O’Grady hugged and kissed you, you knew you’d been hugged and kissed. She was enthusiastic in everything she did. ‘Sure, we thought yer weren’t coming.’
‘I stayed a bit longer at Victoria’s than I intended, sunshine, but I’m here now.’
‘I’d just about given you up, Mam,’ Tommy said. ‘I thought yer’d have been here ages ago.’
‘Good grief, I’m not that late, son.’ Molly’s eyes went to her ma and da who were sitting in their own fireside chairs either side of the grate. Although in their seventies now, they were a handsome couple. Her mother, Bridie, had kept her slim figure, and although there were wrinkles to be seen on her face, it still bore the signs of the beauty she’d once been. Her hair was snow white now and she wore it in a bun at the nape of her neck. ‘Hello, Ma, have yer been behaving yerself?’ Molly put a hand on each of the chair arms and leaned forward to give a kiss to the mother she adored. ‘Not been giving me da a hard time, have yer?’
Bob Jackson chuckled as he tilted his head for a peck on the cheek. ‘I’m waited on hand and foot, Molly, by yer ma and Rosie. I think they’d spoon feed me if I’d let them.’
‘Yer look well on it, Da, I’ll say that. As Rosie would say, it’s a fine figure of a man yer are.’ Molly’s father was very precious to her and all the family because about seven years ago he’d had a heart attack and they’d thought they were going to lose him. But although he was never the same robust man after, he’d pulled through. Bridie had watched him like a hawk ever since. She fetched and carried for him, made sure he was never sitting in a draught and wouldn’t even let him carry a shovelful of coal. They adored each other, their love as strong as it was on the day she first met him at the Pier Head. She’d left Ireland as a young girl to work in Liverpool and had found a job as skivvy in the home of a rich family. She was very lonely and missed her family so much she used to cry herself to sleep. Until the day she’d gone down to the Pier Head on the one Sunday she got off every four weeks. A gust of wind had blown her hat off and Bob had come to her rescue. He always said they’d fallen in love at first sight, and they’d married as soon as he had enough money to rent a house. That love had lasted as strong as ever for nearly fifty years.
‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ Bridie said, ‘and we’ll have a cup of tea before we get down to the serious business of playing cards.’
‘Yer’ll do no such thing, Auntie Bridget.’ Rosie jumped to her feet. ‘It’s meself that’ll make the tea while you talk to Auntie Molly. And me ever-loving intended will give me a hand.’
A wide grin covered Tommy’s face. ‘Ye’re a forward wench, Rosie O’Grady. Yer only want to get me on me own so yer can steal a kiss.’
‘Sure, doesn’t everyone know that!’ Rosie O’Grady wasn’t just pretty, she was a real Irish beauty. With an abundance of jet black curly hair, deep blue eyes and a perfect heart-shaped face that was never without a smile, she was a joy for the eye to behold. She too had come to Liverpool to find work but was lucky that a cousin of Bridie’s had written to ask her if Rosie could stay with them until she found her feet. Everyone in the family agreed it was the best thing that could have happened for Bridie and Bob. Their lives were enriched by Rosie’s presence, and her Irish brogue was like music to Bridie’s ears, reminding her of her homeland. ‘If it’s too lazy yer are, Tommy Bennett, then I can just as easily kiss yer in front of everyone.’
His grin became even wider. ‘She would, too, yer know, Mam.’
‘I know that! And I’m surprised ye’re still sitting there when yer could have had half a dozen kisses by now. Yer dad was never as slow as you.’
‘Oh, no, he couldn’t, Auntie Molly.’ Rosie’s curls bounced when she shook her head. ‘As me mammy always says, if yer have too much of anything then yer soon lose interest.’
‘I don’t think yer mammy had kissing in mind, Rosie,’ Bridie said. ‘If yer truly love someone, then yer can never have too much of kissing, nor would yer ever lose interest. Sure, haven’t I been kissing the same man for over fifty years, and it’s meself that can never get enough.’
‘Rosie, yer’ve got everyone at it now.’ Tommy got to his feet, his huge frame dwarfing everything in the room. ‘As yer ever-loving intended, it will give me the greatest pleasure to accompany yer to the kitchen and partake of yer ever-loving kisses.’
Rosie tossed her head. ‘Yer’ve got as long as it takes for the kettle to boil. But because yer are me ever-loving intended, I’ll put the gas on a very low light.’ Her bonny smile encompassed them all. ‘Now if yer’d all be so kind as to keep on talking, me and my beloved husband-to-be can do a spot of courting.’
Bridie shook her head when they heard the young couple giggling in the kitchen. ‘Ah, what it is to be young, eh? Especially when yer meet the man of yer dreams.’ Her eyes met her daughter’s and she smiled that gentle smile. ‘We seem to be a lucky family in that respect, sweetheart. First yer da and me, then you and Jack. And now Jill and Doreen are happily married to good men who adore them and will always care for them.’ She jerked her head towards the kitchen. ‘And if ever two people were meant for each other it’s your son and Rosie O’Grady. It does me poor old heart good to see them, so it does.’
‘Me and Jack feel the same. She’s given us many laughs over the years has Rosie, and my son would have to go a long way to find someone with all the gifts she has.’ Molly raised her voice to call, ‘Are you two making a meal out of it? It’ll be time to go home before the cards are even on the table.’
‘Don’t blame me, Mam, blame me ever-loving intended. I’ve told her to put me down but she doesn’t take a blind bit of notice.’
‘Rosie, take yer hands off my son right this minute! And put him down ’cos yer never know where he’s been.’
They could hear Rosie’s infectious giggle and it warmed their hearts. ‘Sure, isn’t it meself that’s being manhandled, Auntie Molly? What chance does a slip of a girl like meself have against a big strapping lad like yer son?’
‘If that tea isn’t on the table in five minutes I’ll come out and see to it meself,’ Molly said licking her lips. ‘Me throat’s parched, and I’m sure yer mammy would have a saying to suit the occasion, Rosie O’Grady. Something along the lines of, “If yer see a man dying of thirst, give him water”.’
‘We can give yer a
cup of water right away, Mam,’ Tommy said, laughter in his voice. ‘But tea will take a few minutes longer.’
Rosie came in carrying a laden tray. ‘I wouldn’t have been so long, Auntie Molly, but yer have a very masterful son. I’m putty in his hands, so I am.’
‘I’ll take over now, me darlin’,’ Bridie said. ‘You and Tommy sit down while I pour and yer Auntie Molly passes the cups around.’
‘I see yer’ve got custard creams, Ma.’ Molly stood up ready to take the cups as they were filled. ‘It’s a good job Nellie’s not here or she’d scoff the lot. They’re her favourites. Mind you, the cheeky beggar told me the other day that at a push she’d make do with ginger snaps if there was nowt else.’
‘She doesn’t change, does she?’ Even the thought of the woman brought a smile to Bob’s face. She was a great favourite with the Jacksons, was Nellie. ‘You always know where you are with her.’
Molly sat down carefully with her cup and saucer in her hand. You always got your tea in real china cups here, no thick muggen ones for Bridie. But Molly thought it was a mixed blessing. Oh, the tea tasted better out of china, no doubt about that, but the fear of dropping the cup and saucer took away some of the pleasure. ‘Are you two still saving up hard?’
‘Oh, yes, Auntie Molly, every penny we can spare goes away. And it’s mounting up, isn’t it, Tommy, me darlin’?’
‘Yeah, it’s mounting up.’ The smile had left Tommy’s face and he became serious. ‘The trouble is, time is going faster than our savings are growing. I can’t see us having enough by next summer to get married. We would if we were having a little hole in the corner affair, but we’re not! I want Rosie to have as good a wedding as anyone. One she can look back on as being the best day of her life. I don’t mind for meself ’cos it’ll be the best day of my life no matter what sort of a wedding we have. But I want to do it in style, with all the trimmings, for Rosie. Especially as her mam and dad are coming over for it. I want them to be really proud of her.’
Tommy seldom showed his serious side, and his words brought silence for a few seconds. Then Molly said, ‘Yer’ll make it, son, I know yer will. You and Rosie will have the best send-off anyone’s ever seen. And her parents will be proud of both of yer. You mark my words, son, it’ll all come right in the end.’ Mentally she told herself it would come right if it was the last thing she did. She wouldn’t tell them now and build their hopes up, but she’d make sure she and Jack had enough saved to pay for the reception and the fare for Rosie’s mam and dad to come from Ireland.
No one noticed the look exchanged between Bridie and Bob. They too were putting a bit by each week to help the grandson they adored and the girl who’d found her way into their hearts.
Chapter 3
It was seven o’clock the following night when a pane of glass rattled in the window frame to herald the arrival of Nellie. ‘What time d’yer call this?’ Molly asked as she opened the door to her neighbour. ‘I said half-past seven!’
‘Better to be early than late, girl!’ Nellie brushed past and waddled to the living room. ‘I could have turned up late and missed a piece of world-shattering news.’
Jack looked up from his paper and chuckled. ‘Oh, aye, Nellie, and what would yer call world-shattering news?’
Nellie gave a quick glance into the kitchen to make sure neither of the children was there before saying, ‘You could be in the family way again.’
‘That certainly would be world-shattering news, Nellie, especially to me. After all, our Ruthie is thirteen now.’
‘That don’t make no ruddy difference ’cos there was seven years between her and Tommy.’ She pulled a chair from the table and carefully lowered herself down, all eighteen stone of her. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me what hanky-panky you and Molly get up to in yer bedroom. She’s a dark horse is yer wife, never says nothing. But I can always tell by the smile she’s got on her face some mornings. She thinks I’m thick,’ Nellie tapped the side of her forehead, ‘but I’m all there up here.’
Molly, still wearing a pinny as she leaned back against the sideboard with her arms folded, tapped her head. ‘If ye’re all there up here, how come ye’re half an hour early? Yer might have known I wouldn’t be ready ’cos we’re not due over the road until half-past.’
‘Well, it’s like this, yer see, girl, our Lily and Paul were upstairs getting ready to go out, and my feller was asleep in the chair. Now that sounds very nice and homely, doesn’t it? A scene of domestic bliss. And it would be if my feller didn’t snore so loud. Honest to God, he’d be a blessing to the Salvation Army. They wouldn’t need no feller on the drums or trumpeters if they had George, he can make all those sounds with his nose and mouth. It drives yer crazy just sitting listening to him.’
‘One of these days I’m going to tell your feller what yer say about him behind his back. I bet yer making it up and he doesn’t snore at all,’ Molly said. ‘Anyway, Mrs Talk-a-Bit, I’m surprised he can get to sleep with you talking fifteen to the dozen and not even stopping for breath.’
‘You’re a fine one to talk, girl, ye’re not exactly a shrinking violet yerself. Sometimes I can’t get a word in edgeways with yer.’ Nellie leaned back in the chair and ignored the wood creaking in protest. ‘I’ll have yer know that at one time I was so shy and quiet I seriously thought of entering a monastery.’
Even as the words were leaving her mouth, Molly knew she was walking into a trap. ‘Yer couldn’t have gone to a monastery, soft girl, ’cos only men go in there.’
‘I know, I know! I told yer I wasn’t daft, didn’t I?’ Nellie shuffled her bottom and the chair groaned and creaked ominously. ‘Anyway, go and get yerself changed instead of standing there yapping.’
‘Will you sit still on that ruddy chair, sunshine, ’cos yer’ve got me heart in me mouth. And anyway, I’m not getting changed just to go over the road.’
‘Well, that’s nice I must say!’ Nellie spread her hands. ‘Did yer hear that, Jack? Me and Victoria are not worth getting changed for!’
‘I’m keeping out of it, Nellie,’ Jack said, enjoying every minute of the exchange. His wife and her best mate went through something like this a couple of times a day, and had done for the last twenty years. And never once had they repeated themselves. ‘I’m just an innocent bystander so forget I’m here.’
‘I don’t know why ye’re getting on yer high horse ’cos I’m not getting changed,’ Molly said. ‘You haven’t got changed.’
‘That’s where ye’re wrong, girl, ’cos I have got changed.’
‘You have not! Yer had that dress on this morning and this afternoon so don’t be trying to kid me.’
‘I have got changed, clever clogs. I changed me knickers.’
The only one who didn’t see the joke and wasn’t laughing was the chair. With Nellie shaking with mirth, the seat, the back and the four legs were really under pressure. They didn’t think they could hold out much longer, but Molly came to their aid. She grabbed her mate’s arms, pulled her up and led her over to the couch. Plonking her down, she said, ‘Now we can all breathe easier, sunshine. You sit there like a good little girl while I swill me face and comb me hair. And no, I am not changing me knickers. Not for you or anyone else.’
‘I’ll tell Victoria yer’ve got dirty knickers on, girl, and she won’t like that.’
‘Tell who yer like, I don’t care. Knock next door if yer want, it won’t bother me.’
‘Nah, she’s a jangler that one. It would be all over the street in no time if I told her. And anyway, I don’t want no one to know my best mate wears dirty knickers. They say yer can judge a person by the friends they keep, which means they’d think I was a dirty bugger as well.’
‘If you use the word knickers one more time, sunshine, so help me I’ll throttle yer. Now you just sit there nice and quiet and behave yerself.’
‘Are yer going upstairs, girl?’
‘No, I’m not! I’m swilling me face in the kitchen sink, why?’
‘I wa
s thinking if yer were going upstairs, instead of me behaving meself, I’d be in with a chance of misbehaving with your feller. I’d like to know if he could put a smile on me face like the one what you have on yours every Monday morning.’
‘Nellie McDonough, the older yer get, the worse yer get! Honest, I don’t know where to put me face sometimes, the things yer come out with.’
‘Right this minute, girl, I suggest yer put yer face under the tap and get yerself ready. We’ll be late the way ye’re going on,’ Nellie muttered disdainfully under her breath. ‘I’m surprised she wasn’t late for her own bloody wedding! I know one thing, if she’s late for her own funeral I’m not going to stand around waiting, not if it’s raining. She can bury herself when she turns up.’
‘This is a very pleasant conversation, I must say! But what makes yer think I’ll be going first, sunshine?’
‘Well, yer’ve got a dicky heart, haven’t yer, girl? Now I’d be the last one in the world to want to worry yer, but, well, yer never know the minute with a dodgy ticker.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with my heart at the moment, Nellie McDonough, but that could all change if I exert meself too much. And putting my hands around your neck and strangling yer might just do the trick.’
Nellie grinned. ‘In that case we’d both go together, wouldn’t we, girl? And I’d get me wings and harp before you, ’cos Saint Peter wouldn’t take kindly to you, not when he heard yer choked me.’
Molly was chuckling as she made her way to the kitchen. ‘That’s the only thing that’s stopping me, sunshine.’
Molly stood on Miss Clegg’s step and watched as her two daughters and their new husbands walked down the street in a line, arms linked and faces beaming. She could hear their laughter and thought how lucky she and Jack were that the girls had fallen for boys they got on so well with. It would have broken their hearts if they’d brought someone like Lily McDonough’s old boyfriend into their lives. He was a real rotter, was Len Lofthouse, and Molly could understand Nellie’s worry. But that was in the past and Lily never even mentioned his name now, thank goodness.