EG02 - Man of the House Page 2

  ‘I don’t know what to say, love!’ Maggie was so happy for her daughter she felt like crying. It was about time something nice happened in her life.

  ‘There’s more to come, Mam!’ Eileen’s eyes were lost in the folds of flesh that crept upwards when she laughed. ‘I may as well give yer all the good news in one go, so as yer can get that worried look off yer gob an’ enjoy yourself! I’ve got enough Sturla’s cheques in me bag, an’ clothing coupons, to rig us all out for Bill comin’ home. That’s me, you an’ the kids. Oh, an’ yer’ll be pleased to know I’ve booked an appointment to ’ave me hair permed next week, when I’m on night shift.’

  ‘Well, I never!’ Maggie’s head moved from side to side. ‘I can’t believe it! Here’s me been worrying meself to death about Bill coming home to this mess. I had visions of him walking in, taking one look round and walking straight out again.’

  ‘Mam, if he’s missed me as much as I’ve missed him, he won’t be interested in anywhere but the bedroom.’ Eileen saw her mother’s embarrassed blush and laughed. ‘I know you think I’m a loose hussy, but I couldn’t care less! If I have me own way, no one will see Bill for a week.’

  Maggie tutted. ‘You’d make the devil himself blush, you would! I don’t know who you take after, but it’s certainly not me!’

  ‘Oh, aye! What did yer coal man look like?’ Eileen roared. ‘Or perhaps it’s the milkman I take after!’

  This time Maggie’s chair was pushed back with a vengeance. ‘You can please yourself, but I’m going to get ready for the party.’ She left the room in a huff, but Eileen’s long guffaws followed her up the stairs and by the time Maggie reached the landing she was doubled up with laughter. The last five years might have been hard going, but she wouldn’t have swapped living with her eldest born for the grandest mansion in the world.

  Chapter Two

  Church bells, silent for so long, rang out their message of thanksgiving. The ships in the Mersey blew their sirens and bus and car drivers hooted their horns. It was a day for rejoicing and it seemed the whole population of Liverpool had turned out to celebrate as one big family. Main roads were packed tight with people who wanted to share their relief, joy and pride. Friends stopped to hug and kiss, their laughter mixed with tears. Complete strangers were shaken by the hand and embraced, and anyone wearing a service uniform was surrounded by a back-slapping crowd and hailed as a hero. Even those who had lost loved ones on the battle fields or in the blitz of nineteen forty-one, when so much of the city was destroyed, came out to celebrate the defeat of Hitler and Mussolini. The atmosphere was heady with emotion as people linked arms to sing ‘The White Cliffs of Dover’ and Vera Lynn’s other much loved song, ‘We’ll Meet Again’. And long snake-like lines were formed as revellers danced the conga across busy main roads, bringing traffic to a standstill. Bus drivers were seen to leave their vehicles to join on to the end of these human chains. Timetables were thrown to the wind as legs kicked out to the accompaniment of ‘Aye, aye, Conga!’

  This was a day for the history books, and people up and down the country were determined to make it a memorable one.

  In hundreds of side streets, neighbours were celebrating with parties of their own. But if a prize were to be given to the most noisy and boisterous, it would surely go to Bray Street. And it wasn’t the children making the noise, either! They’d been stunned into silence at the sight of their kitchen tables being carried out to be added to a line which stretched down the centre of the cobbled street. And when the food appeared they were wide-eyed with amazement. They’d never seen so much food in their lives. The jellies were made from gelatine, the cakes with powdered egg and the blancmange with powdered milk, but to the kids it was like something from a fairy tale. With paper hats on their heads, they tucked in with gusto, afraid the mirage would disappear before their eyes. And while the children were feasting themselves, the grown-ups indulged in the beer and port wine they’d clubbed together to buy. So by the time the food had been demolished, the grown-ups were full of merriment and ready to let themselves go. The men removed some of the tables, Tommy Wilson was persuaded to bring his accordion out, and the party started in earnest.

  ‘In the name of God, just look at the state of her!’ Maggie was leaning against the wall watching the antics of her daughter. Wearing her best blue floral dress, and without a pinny for once, Maggie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. ‘What would you do with her?’

  ‘Don’t be worrying,’ Ada Wilson was holding her tummy, laughing at the sight of Eileen attempting a tango with Cissie Maddox. Two eighteen-stone women tripping the light fantastic was a sight that brought tears to Ada’s eyes. ‘She’s the life and soul of the party!’

  ‘Is that what she is?’ Maggie answered dryly. ‘I think she’s had a few too many drinks.’

  At that moment Tommy Wilson broke into a Scottish reel and Cissie gave up. ‘I’ve had it,’ she gasped.

  ‘Go on!’ Eileen puffed. ‘Yer can’t take it!’ She was out of breath, but being on her own didn’t deter Eileen. With one hand on her head and the other on her ample hip, she broke into a jig. With an audience clapping and cheering her on, she lifted a leg and began twirling it around, showing the legs of her knickers which were minus the elastic.

  It was at this moment that Mary and Harry Sedgemoor, with their two children, turned into the street. ‘Oh, my God, I don’t believe it!’ Harry was giving two-year-old Tony a piggy back, and he held on tight to the child’s hands as he roared with laughter. ‘Do you see what I see, or are my eyes deceiving me?’

  ‘Oooh, I wish we had a camera,’ Mary chuckled. ‘We could pull her leg soft over this.’

  ‘Auntie Eileen!’ Three-year-old Emma made a dash forward and Mary had to grab her quick. ‘I want to see Auntie Eileen!’ The little girl struggled to free herself so she could run to her favourite Auntie. ‘Let go of me, Mummy, please!’

  The music stopped, and as Eileen mopped the sweat from her brow she spotted her friends. ‘Yer’ll ’ave to bring the next turn on now, folks! Me mates have arrived.’

  Moving through the crowds, Eileen held her arms wide. ‘Where’s my two little sweethearts, then?’

  Emma reached her first and was clasped in a bear hug when young Tony pulled on Eileen’s skirt. ‘Lift me up, Auntie Eileen,’ he lisped. There hadn’t been many pleasures in Eileen’s life in the past five years, except for her three kids and her mother. But there were two that would always stay in her mind. And that was when Mary and Harry had asked her to be godmother, first to Emma, and then to Tony. And she loved the two children as though they were her own.

  ‘Yer’ve missed all the eats!’ Eileen looked over the heads of the children. ‘I thought yer’d ’ave been here ages ago.’

  ‘We would have been, but we had to stop and look at all the decorations,’ Mary was still giggling over the sight of the big woman doing the Highland fling. ‘Do I need to ask if you’re enjoying yourself?’

  Eileen grinned sheepishly. ‘Well, what the hell, kid! The war’s over and my feller will be home soon! Isn’t that something to be happy about?’

  Harry patted his pocket. ‘I’ve got a camera in here, and the next time you give me cheek in work, I’m going to let everyone see your version of a Scottish reel.’

  Harry was Eileen’s boss in the munitions factory. But he was much more than that … he was a good mate. ‘Blackmail, eh? Well, two can play at that game, old son!’

  ‘I should be so lucky to have done something you can blackmail me with,’ Harry began to shake with laughter. ‘I noticed you’ve got your blue ones on today.’

  ‘Go on with yer, yer cheeky bugger!’ Eileen’s hand went to her mouth. ‘Oh, isn’t Auntie Eileen naughty for swearin’,’ she looked down into two pairs of bright eyes, one vivid blue, the other a deep velvety brown. ‘Shall we give Auntie Eileen a smack?’

  ‘No!’ chorused the two children. They loved this big woman who always made them laugh. ‘You’re not naughty … is she, Mummy
?’

  Torn between teaching them right from wrong, Mary compromised, ‘Auntie Eileen isn’t naughty, but the words that come out of her mouth are sometimes very naughty. But we’ll forgive her this time, shall we?’

  ‘Let’s go in and I’ll make yez a cuppa.’ Singing ‘Roll Out The Barrel’, and with a tiny hand clasped in each of hers, Eileen swayed through the crowd, which had quietened down without her to lead the singing. ‘Make way folks! I’ll just ’ave five minutes with me mates, then I’ll be out again.’

  ‘There yer go!’ Eileen lifted the two children on to the couch. ‘I’ll scrounge yez some lemonade in a minute, but let me see to yer mam and dad first.’ With a grin on her face and her eyes twinkling with happiness, Eileen turned to Harry. ‘D’yer want tea, or something stronger? I’ve got a little drop of the hard stuff put away especially for you.’

  ‘Go on, you twisted my arm,’ Harry laughed. ‘But I’ll need more than a drop to catch up with you.’

  ‘What yer want and what yer’ll get are two different things, mate! Don’t forget there’s been a war on, an’ luxuries are in short supply.’ Eileen waddled towards the kitchen muttering under her breath so the children couldn’t hear. ‘I’ll soon be gettin’ somethin’ that’s been bloody well non-existent for the last five years! An’ that’s a man in me bed!’ Eileen struck a match over a gas ring and put the battered kettle on. She knew Mary wouldn’t touch whisky, so she’d make her a cuppa. From the kitchen cabinet she took two glasses and a half bottle of whisky which, after several sly drinks, was already half empty. Her eyes squinting, she measured two equal amounts into the two glasses then slyly hid the bottle at the back of the crockery in the cupboard. With a glass in each hand she turned to the living room, but stopped at the door. Emma was sitting on Mary’s lap while young Tony stood between Harry’s knees. What a lovely-looking family they are, Eileen thought. Mary, at twenty-five, was beautiful, with her long, blonde, naturally curly hair, wide vivid blue eyes, long dark eyelashes beneath perfectly shaped dark brows, gleaming white teeth and skin as smooth as a baby’s bottom. With a figure as good as any film star, she was a real cracker. And Emma was the spitting image of her. She was going to be a beauty when she grew up.

  Eileen’s eyes went to Harry and Tony. There was nothing of Mary in Tony, he was a tiny replica of his dad, with dark hair and deep brown eyes. He even had a dimple in his chin, like Harry. If he grew up to be as handsome as his dad, with the same kind nature, he wouldn’t go far wrong.

  Eileen sniffed. There’d been times when the Sedgemoors’ marriage hadn’t been all sweetness and light, but thank God that was all behind them now.

  ‘I’ve put the kettle on to make yer a cup of tea, kid!’ Eileen bustled in. ‘The kettle won’t be long.’ She placed a glass in front of Harry. ‘Get that down yer, mate!’

  Footsteps came running down the hall and Eileen groaned. ‘The charge of the bloody Light Brigade! No peace for the wicked.’

  ‘Hi, Auntie Mary! Hi, Uncle Harry!’ Eileen’s two daughters ran in, breathless. ‘Can we take Emma and Tony out to the party?’ The two girls looked like twins, but there was two years between them. Edna, the baby of the family, was ten, but she was as tall as twelve-year-old Joan. And, Eileen was fond of saying, she was a damn sight more forward and cheeky. Both as thin as rakes, they had their mother’s mousey-coloured, straggly hair and hazel eyes. Today they’d been allowed to wear their best dresses, and, much to Eileen’s surprise and relief, they’d managed to keep them clean.

  ‘D’yer want to come and hear the music, Tony?’ Joan coaxed, while Edna stood in front of Emma asking the same question. ‘We’ll look after them, Auntie Mary, promise!’

  Mary looked across at Harry, and when he nodded she let Emma slip from her knee. ‘No going out of the street, d’you hear?’

  ‘Oh, for Christ’s sake!’ Eileen’s eyes rolled to the ceiling. ‘Will yer stop mamby-pambying them, kid! Anyone would think the wind was goin’ to blow them away!’ Emma and Tony were out of the door like a shot before their mother had time to change her mind, and Eileen grinned. ‘Mind you, there’s times I’ve wished for a gale force wind to blow my three away.’

  ‘Where’s Billy?’ Mary asked. ‘I haven’t seen him around.’

  Billy was Eileen’s eldest and the apple of her eye. She’d deny she had a favourite, and she really did love all her kids, but Billy was special because he looked so much like his dad. ‘He’s gone down to Walton Vale to see some of his mates.’ There was pride in Eileen’s voice. ‘He’s fourteen in a few weeks, yer know. He’ll be leavin’ school in July an’ gettin’ himself a job.’

  ‘He’s a big lad for his age.’ Harry finished off his whisky. ‘He’d easy pass for sixteen.’

  ‘Don’t I know it! When he was younger I couldn’t keep him in kecks because he wore the arse out of them. Now he’s growin’ so fast he’s growin’ out of them before he has a chance to wear them out.’ A sly grin crossed Eileen’s face. ‘Not a word, but I’ve got him a pair of long kecks for when he starts work.’

  ‘Not before time,’ Harry told her. ‘He’s far too big for short trousers.’

  ‘He’s not goin’ in long trousers till he starts work,’ Eileen answered. ‘He might look grown up, but he’s still daft enough to go slidin’ down the railway embankment and tearin’ the arse out of his kecks.’ Her eyes widened as she pushed her chair back. ‘Oh, my God, I forgot I’d put the water on! There’ll be no arse left in me kettle!’

  The empty whisky bottle stood in the middle of the table and Eileen’s face was flushed with the mixture of drink and excitement. Her glass clutched between her chubby hands and her dimpled elbows resting on the table, she grinned at her two best friends. She’d told them in great detail, and much pride, about the money she’d been saving in Cookson’s shop, and what she intended spending it on. ‘So, I won’t know meself in a few weeks time.’ Her words were slurred and she noticed the smile exchanged between Mary and Harry. ‘Okay, wise guys! But yer’ll be laughin’ the other shide of yer faces in a couple of weeks. Yer’ll ’ave to wipe yer feet before yer get over me doorstep, and yez’ll ’ave to stand up ’cos no one’s gonna be allowed to sit on me new furniture.’

  Harry had no difficulty keeping his face straight. ‘Mrs Gillmoss, you are as drunk as a lord.’

  ‘An’ you, Mr Sedgemoor, are bloody jealous!’ Eileen tilted her head to drain the last drop of whisky. ‘Anyway, I’m not drunk!’ Mischief danced in her eyes. ‘A bit tiddly, perhaps, but not legless … yet!’

  There was deep affection on Mary’s face for this big, loud-mouthed woman who was always there when you needed her. It was Eileen who had saved her sanity when things had seemed so bad Mary never thought she’d survive. ‘Before you get all this posh furniture, are you going to decorate?’

  ‘I’m goin’ to ’ave a bloody good go, kid! I want this place lookin’ like a palace for my Bill comin’ home.’

  ‘I’ll give you a hand,’ Harry was quick to offer. ‘I’ll scout around tomorrow and see if I can pick up some paper and paint. We could start at the weekend and between the two of us it shouldn’t take too long to do the whole house.’

  ‘That’s my mate!’ Eileen’s face screwed up in a wink. ‘With you to help, we’ll get through this place like a dose of salts.’

  ‘And me!’ Mary wasn’t going to be left out. It was always Eileen who had given, but now Mary saw a way of giving something in return. ‘I’ll get Doris next door to mind the children and I can give you a hand. I’m no good at paper hanging, but at least I can brush the floor and keep you going in cups of tea.’

  Eileen stretched across the table and laid one hand on Mary’s arm and the other on Harry’s. She squeezed gently, ‘Me two best mates!’

  Chapter Three

  ‘“Oh, I’ve got a loverly bunch o’ coconuts, ’ere they are all standin’ in a row”,’ Eileen sang at the top of her voice as she waddled down the hall, clapping her hands, her wide hips brushing the walls on eith
er side. She was closely followed by Mary and Harry who were almost doubled up with laughter. ‘“Big ones, small ones, some as big as yer ’ead …”’ Eileen stopped singing as she stepped from the dark hall into the bright daylight. A second later her loud laugh rang out. ‘Ah, ay, kid! Wait till yer get an eyeful of this!’

  ‘Why, what’s up?’ Mary’s eyes followed Eileen’s pointing finger to a table where Emma and Tony were sitting. Their eyes were the size of saucers as they spooned red jelly into their mouths while watching the antics of the grown-ups. Someone had put two cushions on Tony’s chair, but even with the help of these his chin barely reached the top of the table, and most of the jelly was missing his mouth and landing on his blue and white romper suit.

  ‘Ooh!’ Mary growled through clenched teeth. ‘Just look at the state of him!’ She would have dashed forward but Eileen’s hand restrained her.

  ‘Knock it off, kid, it’s supposed to be a party! Yer can’t expect kids to look like angels all the time!’ Eileen’s head jerked towards Harry. ‘Is she always such a bloody fuss pot?’

  Harry put his arm across Mary’s shoulders and squeezed. ‘Anything Mary does is okay with me.’

  ‘Oh, my Gawd!’ Eileen groaned. ‘All this sloppy stuff is makin’ me want to throw up!’ Suddenly her fat arms grabbed Mary round the waist, lifted her off her feet and spun her round. ‘Just you wait till my feller gets home, kid! We’ll show yez ’ow to coochy coo.’

  Harry’s laugh accompanied Mary’s blush. ‘You’ll be out of practice, won’t you? If you want any advice, come to me.’

  ‘Yer cheeky bugger!’ Eileen lowered Mary to the ground. ‘It might ’ave been a long time, but I’ve got a bloody good memory!’ Her dig in the ribs almost sent Harry flying. ‘I could teach you a thing or two, clever clogs!’

  ‘For heavens sake don’t encourage her!’ Mary disentangled herself from Eileen’s arms. ‘I’m going to see to the children. You two can get on with it.’