MB03 - Sweet Rosie O’Grady Read online

‘I could swear.’ Molly draped the wet coat over the fireguard and pulled it nearer the fire. ‘I was goin’ to starch a couple of Jack’s shirts and collars, but they’ll have to wait … see what sort of a day it is tomorrow.’

  ‘Put the kettle on, girl, an’ make us a cuppa to warm me up. I’m frozen right through to the marrow.’ Nellie watched the steam rising from the coat and tutted. ‘If that coat shrinks, it won’t go near me! The ruddy thing only fitted where it touched before.’

  Molly was standing by the stove, willing the kettle to boil. ‘Haven’t yer got another one yer can wear?’

  ‘Ooh, listen to moneybags! Who d’yer think I am, girl, a ruddy moneylender?’ Nellie hitched up her bosom. ‘That coat, which is shrinkin’ before me very eyes, is the only one I’ve got to me name. If it’s gone for a burton, I’ll have to stay in until the summer comes.’

  ‘Serves yer right!’ Molly poured the boiling water into the brown teapot then covered it with a knitted tea cosy. ‘I’m fed up tellin’ yer to buy an umbrella.’

  ‘Bah!’ Nellie growled. ‘Nothin’ but a flamin’ nuisance they are! I’ve poked more people’s eyes out with an umbrella than soft Joe.’

  ‘I’ve often wondered why there’s so many one-eyed people in Liverpool – now I know.’ Molly set down two mugs of hot tea. ‘Get that down yer, sunshine, it’ll warm the cockles of yer heart.’

  Nellie sipped gingerly on the piping-hot tea. ‘A drop of whisky in this would go down a treat.’

  ‘Ye’re in the Bennetts’ house, sunshine, not the ruddy Adelphi!’ Molly leaned her elbows on the table and curled her hands around the mug to savour the warmth. ‘Are yer goin’ to the shops?’

  ‘I was goin’, ’cos I’ve got nothin’ in for the dinner.’ There was a look of dejection on the chubby face that was usually not far from a smile. ‘But I can’t go now, I’ve nowt to wear. You’ll have to get me shoppin’ for me.’

  Molly was thoughtful for a while, then she asked, ‘Has George still got that black oilskin cape?’

  Nellie’s brows shot up in surprise. ‘What the ’ell made yer think of that?’

  ‘Well, yer could wear it to go to the shops! Don’t say it won’t fit yer, ’cos a cape will fit anyone.’

  ‘Have yer lost the run of yer senses, girl?’ Nellie asked with some spirit. ‘I’d be the talk of the neighbourhood if I went out in that thing … a right bloody laughing-stock!’ Her head went one way, her chins the other. ‘I’d look like a pregnant penguin!’

  Molly put the cup down before she roared with laughter. In her mind’s eye she could see Nellie waddling down the street in the black cape, and, yes, she did look like a pregnant penguin. But she wasn’t going to tell her mate that. ‘Since when have you worried what yer look like just to go to the shops? Gettin’ fussy in yer old age, aren’t yer?’

  ‘Say what yer like, girl, but I ain’t walking out with that thing flappin’ round me ankles.’

  ‘Have yer ever tried it on?’

  ‘Not ruddy likely!’

  ‘Then how d’yer know what yer’ll look like? An’ no one is goin’ to take a blind bit of notice of yer anyway; they’ll be too busy dashin’ to get home out of the rain.’

  ‘Why can’t you get me shoppin’ for me? I’d do it for you willingly if yer were in the state I’m in.’

  ‘Ah, ray, Nellie! Miss Clegg will probably want a few things, I’ve got me own shoppin’ to get, an’ I’ve only got one pair of hands.’ Molly lowered her voice and coaxed, ‘Go an’ get the oilskin and try it on. I promise I’ll tell yer if yer look a nit in it.’

  Nellie glanced at the window. ‘It’s still teemin’ down.’

  ‘Yer can put me coat over yer shoulders an’ I’ll lend yer me umbrella. One of the spokes is broken but it’ll keep the rain off yer.’

  While Nellie was away, Molly searched under the chair cushions until she found an old newspaper. Then she picked out a few pieces of coal from the coal scuttle, placed them carefully on top of the glowing embers, pulled the damper out and held a sheet of the newspaper in front to try and coax some life into the fire. Holding the piece of paper with one hand, she felt her friend’s coat with the other. ‘Oh, lord, it’s soppin’ wet! It’ll take a month of Sundays to dry out over the fireguard. It needs hangin’ up to dry out proper.’

  Molly peeped over the top of the paper and was gratified to see a few flames licking around the new pieces of coal. ‘I’ll give it another few minutes, then I’ll nip up and get a coat hanger.’

  When Nellie came back she was holding the black oilskin cape at arm’s length, a look of disgust on her screwed-up face. ‘If yer think I’m goin’ out in this, yer’ve got another think comin’. I’d be the talk of every ruddy wash-house from here to the Pier Head.’

  ‘Let’s just wait and see, eh?’ Molly pointed to the door leading to the lobby. ‘Look, I’ve hung yer coat up, it’ll dry out quicker like that. When we go out we’ll close all the doors to keep the room warm, then tonight yer can leave it hanging in your livin’ room. It should be well dried out by the mornin’.’

  When Nellie didn’t answer, Molly took the cape from her. ‘Let’s see what it looks like on me.’ She shivered as the cold material fell about her shoulders. ‘By the stripes, it’s cold enough to freeze the you-know-what off a brass monkey.’ After fastening the studs down the front, she did a little twirl. ‘Well, how do I look?’

  ‘Only half as stupid as I’d look in it.’

  ‘Oh, don’t be so miserable, Nellie McDonough! Yer’ve got nowt else, so it’s any port in a storm.’ Molly slipped the cape off and handed it to her friend. ‘Go ’ed, have a try.’

  But Nellie’s efforts were so half-hearted Molly got exasperated. ‘Move yer hands out of the way an’ let me do it. We’ll be here all day at this rate.’

  Molly stood back to inspect the end result, wishing the words pregnant penguin wouldn’t keep coming into her head. But the description fitted Nellie better than any she could come up with. Her friend looked so woebegone, though, Molly wasn’t about to say anything to upset her. ‘There yer are, what’s wrong with that? An’ look, it’s got slits for the arms … I didn’t notice them before.’

  ‘Molly, I’d slit me ruddy throat before I’d go out in it.’ Nellie ground her teeth. ‘If you don’t think it looks ridiculous, then you wear it an’ I’ll wear your coat loose across me shoulders.’

  ‘OK, you win!’ Molly threw up her hands in surrender. ‘I’ll get yer shoppin’ in! It’ll mean two journeys, mind, ’cos I’ll never carry everythin’ in one go on account of holdin’ me umbrella.’

  Her face set in childlike innocence, Nellie asked, ‘What d’yer need yer umbrella for, girl?’

  ‘What the hell d’yer think I need me umbrella for, yer daft article? To keep the flamin’ rain off me, that’s what!’

  ‘Oh, has it started to rain again? It wasn’t rainin’ when I went home before.’

  Molly was stunned into silence. Her eyes slid to the window then back to her friend. ‘You rotten thing! Yer’ve been havin’ me on all this time?’

  ‘Oh, not all the time, girl! I mean, I didn’t ask the woman next door to aim her hosepipe at yer window so yer’d think it was rainin’. An’ much as I like a laugh, I didn’t throw a bucket of water over meself so I’d be soaked to the skin.’ Nellie laid the oilskin cape over the back of a chair before hitching up her mountainous bosom. ‘No, I’ll not take credit I haven’t earned. I’m an honest woman, as yer know, an’ I won’t tell no lies. I’ve only been pullin’ yer leg since I went back home for that ruddy cape.’ Laughter rumbled in her chest but she managed to keep it at bay. She could read Molly like a book, and knew that right now her friend was searching her mind for a way to save her face and also wreak revenge. Her pride wouldn’t let Nellie get away scot-free.

  ‘I’m not gettin’ yer shoppin’ for yer, so there!’ Even as the words left her mouth Molly realized how pathetic and childish they sounded. But they were the best she could think of at such s
hort notice. ‘Ye’re so flamin’ clever, get it yerself.’

  ‘I don’t blame yer one little bit, girl! If I was in your shoes I’d say the same thing! It was a lousy trick, pullin’ yer leg like that.’ Nellie brushed an imaginary speck off her brown, hand-knitted cardigan. ‘I know it’s not your fault, girl, ’cos none of us can help the way God made us. But it’s a great pity He didn’t see fit to give yer a sense of humour. ’Cos if He had, yer’d have died laughin’ if yer’d seen the look on yer face when yer were tellin’ me that ruddy cape looked OK on me. Yer make a rotten liar, girl.’

  ‘I don’t know how I can be a rotten liar when I’ve been mates with you for twenty years, ’cos you’re the biggest liar on God’s earth!’ Molly pinched her bottom lip and turned her head slightly so Nellie couldn’t see her weakening. ‘Yer’d think in all that time I’d have picked up some of your bad habits.’

  Nellie slapped her forehead with an open palm. ‘Now yer mention habits, it’s reminded me of what yer looked like in that ruddy cape! Yer looked like a nun!’

  Molly blessed herself as her eyes rolled to the ceiling. ‘She doesn’t mean no harm, God, so don’t take no notice of her.’

  ‘Listen, girl, if anyone’s got a sense of humour, it’s Him up there. Where d’yer think I get all me tricks from?’

  ‘Nellie McDonough, I don’t know what I’m goin’ to do with you!’ Molly glanced at the clock and got a shock when she saw it was nearly twelve. ‘Ay, I’ll have to get a move on, missus, or the shops will be closed for dinner.’ She opened a drawer in the sideboard and rooted until she found one of Ruthie’s pencils and a scrap of paper. ‘While I’m combing me hair an’ puttin’ me coat on, write what messages yer want down on that. An’ I hope yer’ve got some money with yer ’cos I’ve only got a few bob.’

  Nellie’s tongue flicked out to lick the end of the pencil, while she patted the pocket in her cardigan. ‘I’ve never forgot what I learned in the scouts … always be prepared.’

  Molly opened her mouth to say only boys could be scouts, but shut it quickly when she realized that that was just what Nellie was expecting her to say. Feeling pleased with herself, she hummed softly as she combed her hair in front of the mirror. She was learning … that was one trap she hadn’t fallen into.

  Victoria Clegg was peeping through her net curtains when Molly and Nellie came out of the house opposite. They were arguing in a good-natured way, and the old lady couldn’t help smiling when Molly gave Nellie a playful push. It must be nice to have such a close friend, Victoria thought wistfully. She’d never had a real friend in her life. There had been a boy once … oh, she must have been in her early twenties if her memory served her right. But being an only child she’d put her duty to her parents first and the romance fizzled out through lack of commitment on her part. She’d loved her parents very much and had devoted her life to them until they died. It was only when she was left alone that she realized she had no one in the world … no kith nor kin, or any friends. But she hadn’t minded living on her own: she had plenty to occupy her time, what with the housework and the shopping. And for company she had her beloved wireless.

  Nellie’s bawdy laughter brought Victoria away from her memories. Anyone who didn’t know the two friends would think they spent their time laughing and joking, without a care in the world. But Victoria had reason to know that behind all the smiles and jokes were two kind and caring people … the salt of the earth, her father would have called them.

  Last year, at the age of eighty-six, she’d had a stroke and really thought she was going to die. In fact she probably would have if Molly, Nellie and her next-door neighbour, Mary Watson, hadn’t stepped in to care for her. The stroke had left her paralysed in her right arm and she’d been afraid she’d end up lying in hospital until the good Lord took her. Instead, her life had become more full than it had ever been. Every day one of the three women would call and get her shopping in, help with the housework and bring her a hot dinner. They took it in turns, and today was Molly’s day.

  Victoria let the curtain fall when she heard the friends shouting ‘ta-ra’ to each other. She didn’t need to open the door because Molly had a key to let herself in.

  ‘Mornin’, sunshine!’ Molly came in bright and breezy. ‘Did yer notice I didn’t say “Good morning”, ’cos it’s ruddy well not!’

  Victoria smiled. Molly’s presence was like a breath of fresh air in the room. ‘It’s not very pleasant, is it?’

  ‘Nah, it’s lousy! But Nellie cheered me up, she’s had me in stitches.’ Molly giggled. ‘I don’t know why I’m laughin’ ’cos the joke was on me, as per usual, but honest to God she is so funny.’

  ‘What was she on about this time?’

  ‘Can I tell yer later, sunshine? I want to get to the shops before they close. Have yer got yer list ready?’

  ‘I only want a small tin loaf and a quarter of butter.’ Victoria couldn’t let Molly go without asking the question that was uppermost in her mind. ‘Has Doreen had a letter from Phil?’

  Molly shook her head. ‘None came through the letter-box. But she sometimes meets the postman on her way to the tram, so she might have got one off him.’

  ‘He’s coming home next Monday on two weeks’ leave.’ The old lady’s eyes were bright with excitement. ‘Isn’t that good news?’

  ‘It sure is, kiddo! Our Doreen will be like a dog with two tails.’ Molly noticed one of the buttons was loose on her navy-blue stroller coat and made a mental note to get the needle and cotton out when she got home. If she lost the button she’d never get one exactly the same, so she’d either have to sew an odd one on or fork out for a set of four.

  ‘I won’t be long, Victoria.’ Molly smiled fondly at the old lady. She was the oldest resident in the street and everyone respected her. She was a real lady, was Miss Victoria Clegg. Never been known to raise her voice or have cross words with a living soul, and in all the time she’d known her, Molly had never heard her use a swear-word, not even a mild one. ‘I’ll have a quick cup of tea with yer when I’ve done the shopping, and we’ll have a little natter. How about that, eh?’

  Victoria followed her to the door. ‘I’ll put the kettle on the hob, then it won’t take long to boil when yer get back.’ She put her hand on Molly’s arm. ‘Phil came into our lives in a strange way, but I thank God every night that he did. He writes every day as he promised and I don’t half look forward to his letters. Makes getting out of bed worth while.’

  ‘They say truth is stranger than fiction, sunshine.’ Molly could see the old lady wanted to talk, but if she didn’t put a move on she’d miss the shops. She bent to kiss the wrinkled face. ‘We’ll talk about it when I get back, eh?’

  Armed with her shopping list, Molly set off at a brisk rate. The Maypole first, then Waterworth’s and the butcher’s last. With her basket tucked in the crook of her arm and her routine mapped out in her mind, Molly’s thoughts went to what Victoria had said about it being strange the way Phil Bradley had come into their lives. It was strange all right, but it had turned out to be a blessing to both families. And particularly to Miss Clegg, who, in offering him a bed for the night when he was in need, had gained the family she’d never had. She and the young man had become devoted to each other and he’d made her home his home.

  And as for our Doreen, Molly thought as she pushed open the door of the Maypole, well, she thinks Phil is Clark Gable, Alan Ladd, Spencer Tracy and Gary Cooper all rolled into one. And she wasn’t far wrong, either, Molly decided as she felt in her pocket for the shopping list. He was a cracker of a lad, and she could see why her daughter had fallen for him.

  ‘Hello, Molly.’ Peggy, the young assistant, approached. ‘What can I do yer for?’

  ‘I’ll get Nellie’s first, then I won’t get mixed up with the money. She wants a half of marge, a quarter of brawn and a quarter of loose tea. An’ will yer be a pal, Peggy, an’ write the prices on everythin’?’

  Molly leaned on the counter, and as she watched
the assistant pouring the tea from a scoop into a cone-shaped bag, she wondered what to get for the family’s dinner. It was a worry every day trying to think of something they all liked. She made up her mind quickly: sausage, egg and mashed potato were a safe bet, the whole family were partial to that. Even Ruthie, who was more fussy about her food than the other children had ever been. Mind you, Molly had to admit, it was her fault for spoiling her youngest child. Times were harder when the others were her age; they had to eat what they were given and like it … it was that or go hungry.

  ‘The brawn was a bit over, Molly.’ Peggy pushed Nellie’s groceries across the counter. ‘That comes to one and tuppence.’

  ‘I’m sure my mate’s pulled a fast one on me.’ Molly was scrutinizing Nellie’s list. ‘She’s a right bloody crafty Clara! Three shillings and sixpence she gave me, saying it was plenty. An’ look at her flamin’ list! Apart from what she’s got down from Waterworth’s, she wants five mutton chops and a pound of suet! I’ll never get all that on the two shillings and fourpence I’ll have left.’ The hand holding the list started to shake as she let out a throaty chuckle. ‘Just look what she’s written on the bottom, Peggy! “Yer can have a penny for yerself for going”.’

  Peggy let out a high-pitched laugh. ‘She’s a real case is Mrs McDonough.’

  She glanced down the counter to where the manager was serving a customer. ‘She even had old misery-guts laughin’ the last time she came in, an’ that takes some doin’, believe me! Even the Three Stooges can’t make him crack his face.’

  ‘That’s nothin’! D’yer know Father O’Connor from the church down the road?’ Molly waited for a nod, then continued. ‘Well yer know how surly he is, always in a bad temper. Yer never see people sittin’ in the pews outside his confessional box … they’re all terrified of him. Apart from gettin’ a lecture off him about the doors of hell bein’ open to yer if yer don’t mend the error of yer ways, he gives yer six times more Hail Marys and Our Fathers for penance than any of the other priests.