MB02 - Last Tram To Lime Street Page 3

  ‘I’d give you a hand, Miles,’ Jill could only see the top of his head above the desk, ‘but Mr Brown wants this letter urgently.’

  ‘I’m quite capable of managing on my own, thank you.’

  Jill rolled her eyes. The atmosphere in the office was going to be decidedly cooler now. Never mind, she could put up with it for a week. She checked the dictation on her pad and started to type.

  ‘Stop gobblin’ yer dinner down.’ Molly glared across the table at Doreen. ‘Anyone would think yer hadn’t seen food for a month.’

  ‘I’m meeting Maureen in an hour.’ Doreen spoke with her mouth half full. ‘We’re goin’ to Millington’s.’ She chewed for a while, then swallowed. ‘Why don’t you an’ Steve come with us, Jill? Connie promised to teach us the tango tonight.’

  ‘No, I’ll never make a dancer.’ Jill smiled as she tossed her head. ‘I’m like a block of wood, no rhythm.’

  ‘That’s ’cos yer won’t let yerself go,’ Doreen said, repeating what she’d heard at the Constance Millington Dancing Academy. ‘If yer let yer body go loose and learn to sway with the music, it’ll soon come to yer.’

  ‘No, I don’t feel like going. Besides, me and Steve are going round to see Grandad.’

  ‘He looks fine,’ Molly told them. ‘He was dryin’ the dishes when I got there this mornin’, an’ me ma was smilin’ that much yer’d think she’d won the pools.’

  ‘Oh, I nearly forgot!’ Jack laid his knife and fork down and leaned his elbows on the table. ‘Me an’ the lads ’ave come up this week, three draws we got.’ He was in a syndicate with six of his workmates, each paying fourpence ha’penny a week towards the three-bob stake. ‘There were only four draws on the coupon, so we’re bound to get something. But don’t go breaking eggs with a big stick, it might only be a few bob.’

  ‘Don’t knock it, Jack Bennett, a few bob’s a few bob!’ Molly rubbed her hands in glee. ‘Might be enough to get meself a new pair of shoes.’

  ‘Will yer mug us, Dad?’ Doreen coaxed. ‘I could do with a new pair of shoes too!’

  Jack smiled, thinking how lovely it would be if the winnings were enough to treat the whole family. Could be, if the lads in work were right. He didn’t understand about permutations and things, he left that to the bloke who filled the coupon in, but apparently they had about five lines up. He was feeling pretty excited himself, but he wasn’t going to tell Molly in case she built her hopes up. It was only a second dividend and if there were a lot of winners they could end up getting paid out in peanuts. Better to be cautious than have to dash everyone’s hopes. ‘Let’s wait and see, eh? Don’t bank on anythin’ till we know for sure what they’re paying out on.’

  There was a bang overhead and all eyes went to the ceiling. ‘Oh my God, Ruthie’s fallen out of bed.’ Molly scraped her chair back but Jack motioned for her to stay where she was. ‘I’ll go up.’

  He was back seconds later, clutching Ruthie’s well-loved doll. ‘She must have turned in her sleep and knocked the doll off the pillow.’

  Molly put a hand to her heart. ‘Gave me the fright of me flamin’ life! I had visions of her lyin’ on the floor with a broken arm or summat.’

  ‘That’s daft, tha’ is.’ Tommy had been quiet, considering how he could join the football pools syndicate. But it was no good, he couldn’t afford it. Fourpence a week out of his pocket money would mean he wouldn’t have enough left to go to the pictures. ‘She’d be screamin’ her head off if she’d hurt ’erself, wouldn’t she?’

  ‘Oh, aye, hard clock, yer there, are yer?’ Molly tutted. ‘Fancy silly old me not thinkin’ of that!’

  ‘I’d better get me skates on,’ Doreen said. ‘I’ve got to get washed and changed and be down at Bedford Road by eight o’clock.’ She picked her plate up and kicked her chair backwards, sending it crashing into the sideboard.

  ‘In the name of God, are yer tryin’ to wreck the place?’ Molly glared. ‘The furniture’s fallin’ to pieces as it is, it doesn’t need any help from you.’

  ‘Sorry, Mam!’ Doreen rushed to the kitchen with her plate and they heard her bang it down on the draining board. When she came back into the room she dropped a kiss on her mother’s forehead and whispered, ‘Yer might be able to buy yerself a new suite out of me dad’s winnings.’

  ‘Aye, an’ pigs might fly,’ Molly called as her daughter took the stairs two at a time. ‘If I ever do get new furniture, an’ it’s a ruddy big if, there’ll be some changes in this ’ouse, believe me! Yez won’t be able to lay a finger on anythin’, or sit down. Dinner will be served in the kitchen and yez can eat it standin’ up.’

  ‘Let’s hope I don’t win a fortune then,’ Jack chuckled. ‘Life wouldn’t be worth living.’

  ‘Oh, I didn’t mean you, light of my life.’ Molly leaned forward to pat his arm, speaking in her posh accent. ‘If you come into money, it would only be right and proper for you to be waited on hand and foot. Your every wish would be my command.’

  ‘Now that is something I’d have to see with me own eyes before I’d believe it.’ Jack put his knife and fork down and pushed his plate away. ‘Now for a nice cup of tea, a ciggie, a read of the Echo and a chance to unwind.’

  ‘Are you goin’ out, Tommy?’ Molly asked, watching Jack move to his favourite chair at the side of the fireplace.

  ‘Only up to Ginger’s. There’s nowhere else to go ’cos we’re both skint.’ Tommy eyed his mother hopefully. ‘Yer wouldn’t lend us a tanner to go to the flicks, would yer?’

  Molly turned her head away. How could she refuse him when he looked so much like Jack had at his age? But once she started lending him money he’d always be in debt. When he had to pay it back at the weekend, he’d be skint again and on the scrounge. The girls had always managed on their pocket money, so Tommy had to learn to do the same. ‘I’m sorry, sunshine, but I’ve only got enough to see me through the week.’

  ‘I’ll give you sixpence,’ Jill said, seeing the disappointment on her brother’s face. She got much more pocket money because she was on a decent wage, and most weeks she didn’t spend it all. ‘You needn’t pay me back, I’ll treat you.’

  ‘Ooh, the gear!’ Tommy’s face lit up. ‘Yer a pal, our Jill!’

  ‘She’s too soft-hearted, yer mean,’ Molly said, but she wasn’t displeased. Jill’s generosity meant she wouldn’t have to spend the night feeling guilty.

  There was a knock on the front door and Jill jumped to her feet. ‘This is probably Steve.’

  ‘Keep him talkin’ a minute till I get this table cleared.’ Molly hastily gathered the plates together. ‘It looks a mess for anyone to walk in to.’

  Jill and Steve came in hand in hand, their pleasure at being together written on their faces. ‘Hi, Mr Bennett.’ Steve McDonough was a handsome lad. Six feet tall, shoulders on him like an ox, and a glowing, healthy complexion. He had a mop of dark brown hair, eyes that were constantly changing from hazel to green, strong white teeth and dimples in his cheeks.

  ‘Hello, son.’ There was warmth in Jack’s smile as he pointed to the couch. ‘Sit yerself down.’

  ‘I’ll give me mam a hand with the dishes,’ Jill said. ‘I won’t be a minute.’

  Molly’s head appeared around the kitchen door. ‘No need, I’ll ’ave them done in no time.’ She winked at Steve. ‘All right, sunshine?’

  ‘Yeah, fine, Mrs B.’ When Steve grinned the dimples in his cheeks deepened. ‘How’s yerself?’

  ‘Can’t complain.’ Molly chuckled, smoothing down the blonde hair that had once been as bright and shining as her daughter’s but was now peppered with strands of grey. ‘At least I could complain, but what’s the use when no one will listen?’

  ‘Me mam’s expecting yer.’

  ‘Yes, I said I’d go up for a natter.’ Molly came further into the room to lean on the sideboard. ‘I’ve been so busy the last couple of weeks, what with going round to me ma’s every day I’ve lost track of everythin’. Apart from sayin’ “hello” to the n
eighbours as I’ve been passing, I’ve missed all the news and gossip.’

  ‘Can you understand women, son, ’cos I’m blowed if I can.’ Jack turned his head to wink at Steve. ‘They’re never happy unless they’ve got someone to pull to pieces.’

  ‘Oh, aye!’ Molly stood to attention. ‘And tell me, pray, whose ears come out on sticks when I’ve got a juicy bit of gossip to tell? The only reason men don’t gossip is because they never bloody do anythin’ worth gossipin’ about!’

  ‘I’m goin’ out before yez come to blows,’ Tommy said. ‘I’ll see yer, Steve.’

  ‘Yeah, ta-ra, Tommy.’

  Jill held her hand out to Steve. ‘Come on, I’ll get me coat on the way out.’

  Molly walked to the door with them. ‘Don’t stay long, will yer? Grandad goes to bed early.’ She watched them stroll up the street, their heads close, their arms around each other’s waists. Molly loved Steve like a son and she’d been upset when he and Jill had fallen out. But they were back together again, and this time, please God, it was for keeps.

  ‘Can yer get in, girl?’ Nellie pressed back against the wall to let Molly pass. ‘Tight squeeze, isn’t it?’

  ‘Nah, yer tummy’s like a feather pillow, it squashes in.’

  ‘Give us yer coat, I’ll hang it up.’

  Molly undid one button on her coat, then paused. ‘D’yer feel like comin’ to Ellen’s? I’ve seen nothin’ of her for months, don’t think we’ve exchanged more than half a dozen words.’

  Nellie nodded. ‘I’ll just tell George where we’re goin’.’

  ‘I’d better pop me head in as well, otherwise George will think I’ve fallen out with him.’

  ‘Hello, Molly!’ George McDonough ran his fingers through his thinning, steel-grey hair. ‘Yer quite a stranger these days.’

  ‘Well, things should be back to normal from now on.’ Molly grinned. ‘I’ll be back tormentin’ yer, as usual.’

  ‘I’ll only be gone an hour,’ Nellie told him, pushing Molly back into the hall. ‘When the fire goes low, get off yer backside an’ put a shovel of coal on. If it’s out when I get back, I’ll flatten yer.’

  Nellie banged the door behind her and they walked the few yards to Molly’s next-door neighbour, Ellen Clarke. As Nellie’s hand lifted the knocker, Molly’s mind wandered back over the last twelve months. If anyone had told her last year that one day she’d be visiting Ellen as a friend, she’d never have believed them. Nobby Clarke, Ellen’s husband, had been a violent bully, who spent all his money in the pubs or on the horses. Whenever you saw him, he was either too drunk to walk straight or in a violent rage, so everyone in the street gave him a wide berth. It was obvious he kept his wife short of money because she and their four children never had a decent stitch on their backs. Downtrodden was the word that came into Molly’s mind whenever she saw Ellen walking down the street with her head bowed, never passing the time of day with even her closest neighbours.

  Molly had felt sorry for Ellen and the kids, with their pinched, unhappy faces, but because of Nobby she’d kept her distance. He wasn’t a man you could take to, unless you were in the mood for a fight. The one thing Nobby was good at was using his fists and shouting obscenities. Molly could do her share of swearing, but she drew the line at some of the things that came out of Nobby’s mouth.

  But one day last year circumstances had brought Molly closer to the Clarkes, and she was horrified when she found out exactly how bad life was for Ellen and the kids. Twenty-five shillings a week was all Nobby gave his wife to live on. Out of that she was expected to pay the rent and gas, and buy food, coal and clothes for six of them. The rest of Nobby’s wages he kept in his pocket to spend on drink, horses and ciggies. Ellen was so frightened of him she went without herself to make sure there was a decent meal on the table for him every night. If there wasn’t, it was woe betide her. She’d be beaten and kicked until her thin body was covered in bruises. She and the children never knew what it was like to have a full tummy or decent clothes on their backs. No fire ever burned in their grate, and in bed at night they had to cuddle together under their coats for warmth. Their home was cold and cheerless, their sticks of furniture only fit for a bonfire.

  It was Nobby’s drinking that had finally freed Ellen from the nightmare she’d suffered for years. He got so drunk one day he walked in front of a moving tram. His legs were so badly mangled they had to be amputated, and his brain was affected. After a period in Walton Hospital, he was classified as being mentally insane and transferred to Winwick Hospital in Warrington.

  Molly was so deep in thought she jumped when Nellie touched her arm. ‘She must be flamin’ well deaf!’ the big woman growled. ‘I’ve knocked loud enough to wake the dead!’

  ‘I’ll give a tap on the window.’

  Within seconds they heard a shuffling, then the door opened. ‘I was in the kitchen an’ wasn’t sure whether I was hearin’ things.’ Ellen stood aside. ‘Come in. It’s nice to see yer again, Molly.’

  ‘I’m glad to be back in the fold, Ellen.’ Molly slipped her coat off. ‘I’ve got a lot of catching up to do.’ She gazed around the newly decorated room and at the bright fire burning in the gleaming grate. What a difference a year could make. ‘The room looks nice, Ellen, Corker did a good job.’

  Ellen blushed as she always did when Corker’s name was mentioned. ‘It looks smashin’, doesn’t it? Wouldn’t think it was the same room.’

  Jimmy Corkhill, when he wasn’t away at sea, lived with his widowed mother at the top of the street. Until Nobby’s accident, no one realised he’d known Ellen since they were teenagers, because he never went near the Clarkes’ house. Knowing Nobby from old as a drunken bully, always on the lookout for a fight, Corker had steered clear. But in the last year he’d been a good friend to Ellen and the kids. In fact, everyone in the street had rallied around to help, especially Molly and Nellie, who had talked the local butcher into giving Ellen a job so she could keep a roof over her head.

  ‘When’s Corker due home?’ Molly asked. ‘Should be this week, shouldn’t it?’

  ‘Thursday or Friday.’ Ellen realised she’d given the game away and turned her head from their knowing smiles. ‘At least I think so.’

  Molly winked at Nellie. They both thought Corker’s feelings for Ellen went beyond the bounds of friendship. But they also knew he wouldn’t get anywhere, not with Ellen being so straight-laced. As far as she was concerned she was still a married woman, even if her husband was locked up in an asylum and hadn’t recognised her on the few occasions she’d been able to afford the fare to visit him.

  ‘Nellie tells me there’s new people in the Culshaws’ old house,’ Molly said, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her lap. ‘Have yer seen anythin’ of them?’

  Ellen pulled a face. ‘If the wife is anythin’ to go by, they’re a right lot! She came in the shop one day, the first time she’d been in, mind you, an’ she was as sweet as honey. Told us how she’d just moved in, an’ that she’d be buyin’ her meat off Tony from now on. Then she had the nerve to ask him for tick!’

  ‘Go ’way!’ The expression on Nellie’s chubby face was comical. ‘Well, how’s that for ruddy cheek? That’s the best yet, that is!’

  Ellen giggled. ‘That’s what Tony told ’er to ’er face. An’ yer should have seen the way she changed! Called ’im fit to burn, and I’ve never heard anythin’ like the language she came out with. He got called everythin’ under the sun ’cos he wouldn’t give her tick. She was yelling ’er head off, her arms flyin’ here, there an’ everywhere. I thought she was goin’ to come around the counter and belt him one. I’m glad Tony was there, ’cos if I’d been on me own I’d have died of fright. She’s a hard case, all right, an’ as common as muck.’

  ‘Of all the cheek!’ Molly said. ‘I don’t like the sound of her! Good job she lives at the top of the street, I wouldn’t want them for neighbours.’

  ‘If the rest of the family are like the mother, it’s God help the people l
ivin’ next to them,’ Ellen said. ‘She’s as tough as old boots.’

  ‘Well I never!’ Molly sat back in the chair. ‘Some people would buy an’ sell yer, wouldn’t they? First time in the shop an’ asking for tick! I’d never ’ave the cheek to do that, even if I was starvin’.’

  The corners of Nellie’s mouth moved upwards as a huge grin covered her face. ‘Yer certainly see life in the shop, don’t yer, Ellen? I bet yer could write a book on the goings-on.’

  Ellen nodded. ‘Me an’ Tony have a good laugh at some of them. But he’s very good to his customers. There’s one old lady comes in and she’ll stand for ages sayin’ she can’t make up her mind what to have for a change, when we both know she’ll end up with half a pound of mince ’cos that’s all she can afford.’

  ‘Poor bugger,’ Nellie huffed, ‘it must be lousy to live on yer own an’ have to count yer coppers.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Ellen said, ‘Tony looks after her. Most days he’ll stick a chop in with her mince, or some neck ends.’

  ‘This is nice, isn’t it?’ Molly crossed her legs, pulling her dress down over her knees. ‘I haven’t half missed our little chats.’

  ‘Be honest, girl, it’s not us yer’ve missed, it’s all the juicy bits of gossip!’ Nellie laughed. ‘But I’ll tell yer somethin’, an’ Ellen will bear me out, there’s nothin’ happened while you haven’t been around. I’m beginnin’ to think it’s you that starts it all!’

  ‘Uh, uh! Don’t be givin’ me that, Nellie McDonough! You don’t hear it ’cos yer don’t keep yer ear to the ground. Ellen knows about the new people up the street, but you’re here all day an’ wouldn’t know them from Adam! It strikes me yer slippin’, Nellie, losing yer touch.’

  ‘Aye, well, I haven’t ’ad you around to egg me on.’ Nellie pressed her tummy in to lean forward and gaze into Molly’s eyes. ‘But I’ve no doubt yer’ll soon have me up to scratch. By this time next week I bet yer’ll be able to tell me everythin’ that’s goin’ on in all the houses this end of the street.’