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MB08 - I’ll Be Your Sweetheart Page 8
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‘Are yer lucky? I mean do yer ever win?’
Jack looked astonished. ‘Molly, that’s Corker’s business. Yer have no right to ask something so personal.’
‘I’m not being nosy, sunshine, as yer’ll know when I tell yer why I’m asking. So bear with me while I explain.’
Corker leaned forward and clasped his hands between his knees. He had liked Molly from the time he first set eyes on her, and over the twenty-odd years they’d lived in the same street, his admiration had grown. When he was going to sea, it was always Molly he looked forward to seeing when he came home. And she’d been the one to bring him and Ellen together. He would trust her with his life. ‘I’m all ears, me darlin’, so fire away.’
While Jack and Corker focused on her mate, Nellie focused her attention on the plate of custard creams. She told herself she could eat and listen at the same time, there was no harm in that. Molly curled her hand and held it to her mouth as she gave a nervous cough. ‘I don’t quite know where to start, but here goes. It’s like this, Corker: I’m in a bit of a quandary. Yer see, I had to concoct a story that Flora would believe, or she never would have taken the money from us, ’cos yer know how proud she is.’ After taking a deep breath, Molly went on. ‘Anyway, me and Nellie told her that we always put a few coppers away every week in case of an emergency, and as we’d had no reason to delve into the pot, it had mounted up. I said we now had the grand sum of twelve shillings, and as we had no need of it, she could have it to pay her rent and that, and buy her food. Of course she wouldn’t hear of it at first, until we told her she could pay it back at sixpence a week. Even then it took some doing to talk her into accepting, but we managed it, so she’ll be able to pay her dues and have money over to live on.’ Molly looked across the table to see if her mate would like to add to what had been said, but Nellie’s eyes were on the last biscuit on the plate, which was testing her will power.
‘Now comes the problem, Corker, for there is no way I can take sixpence a week off Flora. The money wasn’t mine anyway, for six families had contributed towards it. And I’ve been racking me brains to find a solution to the problem. As me and Nellie were walking home, however, me mate passed a remark that lit a spark. She said something like, “I bet yer come up trumps, yer always do.’”
The plate now empty, Nellie was dusting the crumbs off the front of her coat. ‘Well, yer do, don’t yer, girl? I’ve never known yer be stumped for a way out.’
‘Listen, sunshine, I may have me moments, but I’m not a ruddy genius. It’s just that this situation is one I want to get right, for it’s a long time since I felt as emotional or as strongly as I do over Flora Parker. She’s too old to fend for herself, and hasn’t got a soul to turn to. So I’m hoping and praying that this idea of mine, brought on by you, Nellie, bears fruit. Otherwise I don’t know what I’ll do.’
‘Molly, me darlin’, if yer tell me what yer have in mind, I’ll help. I’m on your side, remember that,’ Corker told her. ‘We’ve helped each other many a time over the years, and long may we carry on doing so.’
‘It may not be possible, Corker,’ Molly said, looking doubtful and feeling rather stupid, ‘but I wondered if we could tell Flora that we’d put a bet on a horse, in her name, and the horse had won the race? Would we get away with it, or is it beyond the realms of possibility?’
Corker looked thoughtful as he stroked his beard. ‘Have you ever put a bet on, Molly?’
‘Only on the Grand National once, when me and Nellie put threepence each on a horse that is still running.’
Corker, who had given the matter some thought, reached a decision. ‘It’s a miracle if yer can pick the horse which is going to win before the race starts. If it was so easy, Molly, I’d be a very rich man. But I’ve hit on an idea that would solve the problem to suit everyone. Yer see, I’m quite friendly with the bookie, so I may be able to cadge a blank betting slip off him. If I explain the reason, and let him know there’d be no cheating so he wouldn’t get into trouble with the law, or lose money, then I’m almost sure he’ll go along with it. He should do, he’s made enough off me over the years.
‘How would a betting slip help?’ Molly asked. ‘Yer’ve lost me, Corker.’
‘Let me explain, then. I’ll make it as simple as possible. If I can get a blank betting slip, I can fill it in after the race, when we know the name of the winning horse. I can put it down at whatever odds yer need to make up the amount of money yer gave Flora. Not the exact amount or she’ll think it’s too good to be true, and she won’t believe yer. And although what I’m suggesting isn’t illegal, and no one is being robbed, I would rather yer didn’t mention it to anyone. Yer don’t need to worry, we’re doing it for the very best of reasons.’
‘No one will breathe a word, Corker, I promise yer. Me and Jack won’t, and when I’ve told Nellie about the terrible food the prisoners in Walton Jail get, she’ll keep quiet. The thought of no cream slice after her dinner will be enough to strike her dumb.’
Corker stood up and stretched his huge frame. ‘I’d better make tracks or Ellen will be wondering where I’ve got to.’ He looked at the three serious faces, and throwing back his head he roared with laughter. ‘If yer could just see yerselves! My partners in crime, and looking as though we’ve been plotting to rob a bank. Yer really don’t have to worry, I know what I’m doing.’
‘I’m glad you do, Corker,’ Nellie said, ’cos I’m blowed if I do. Me head won’t take it all in, so I couldn’t tell anyone when I don’t know meself. But I’ll ask a favour of yer, if yer don’t mind, lad?’
‘Fire away, Nellie me darlin’, your wish is my command.’
‘Ooh, ye’re a good lad, Corker. I knew I could rely on yer. What I’d like yer to do, and there’s a pint in it for yer, is that when yer know the name of the winning horse, will yer put a tanner on it for me?’
There was complete silence for a few seconds as three pairs of eyes focused on Nellie’s face, waiting for her to show a sign that she was joking. But her face was as innocent as a newborn baby’s. Then Molly said, ‘She’s not with us, Corker, and perhaps it’s just as well. Where Nellie is concerned, ignorance is most definitely bliss.’
Chapter Six
At two o’clock on the Saturday afternoon, Nellie stood on Molly’s top step and lifted her hand to the knocker. But before she brought it down, she narrowed her eyes and moved her head several times from left to right, making sure there were no people about. She was taking Corker’s words very seriously, and wasn’t going to let the cat out of the bag. When she was satisfied the coast was clear, she brought the knocker down with full force.
Molly opened the door, and her eyes widened in surprise. ‘What have yer got against this door, Nellie, that yer punish it every time yer come? I’m sure it would appreciate a nice gentle tap instead.’
Nellie’s eyes looked up to the sky. ‘Gentle tap be buggered, girl, it’s a ruddy wooden door.’
‘Okay, it’s a wooden door. Silly me thinking it was the stop for the tram into Lime Street.’
‘Don’t be so bleeding sarky, girl, it doesn’t suit yer.’
‘Right! I won’t be sarky any more, sunshine. I’ll ask nicely and gently, why are yer standing on my step at this time on a Saturday afternoon? Or, if yer want me to butter yer up, I could ask why I am having the pleasure of seeing you.’
Before answering, Nellie made a great show of being sure there was no one within earshot. ‘There’s a lot of questions there, girl, but I’ll answer the first one. I’m standing on yer step because I can’t get in yer house when ye’re blocking me way.’
‘I don’t want yer in me house, Nellie, ’cos I’m in the middle of a stack of ironing, and I don’t want to stop until I’ve finished. So tell me what yer want and then I can get back before the iron gets too hot. Anyway, whatever it is can’t be important, or yer’d have mentioned it when we went to the shops this morning.’
‘I can’t tell yer standing in the bleeding street, girl, ’cos yer
never know who might be listening.’
Molly sighed. ‘Just for five minutes, Nellie, then I’m going to chase yer. So make it snappy.’
‘Well, seeing as I can’t walk through yer, girl, wouldn’t it be a good idea for yer to stand aside and let me in?’
Molly wasn’t feeling very happy as she closed the door. She had her whole afternoon planned in her head, with a visit to her two daughters, Jill and Doreen, and then to her ma’s. But she could say goodbye to her timetable now, for five minutes to Nellie could be anything up to an hour or more.
As she followed her mate into the living room, Molly gave herself a lecture. She’d have to be firm, hard even, and put her foot down. Yes, that’s what she’d do. But her heart sank when Nellie made straight for the carver chair, picked it up and carried it to the table. Without a by-your-leave, she used her foot to push one of the dining chairs aside to make room for the carver.
‘Nellie, I told yer I could only spare five minutes, so what are yer making yerself comfortable for?’ Molly put her hands on the back of a chair, and even though she knew she was wasting her time, she tried again. ‘Nellie, will yer tell me what yer want me for, and make it quick ’cos I’ve got an iron on a gas ring.’
Cool as a cucumber, Nellie said, ‘Well, turn it off, girl, for it’s costing yer money. And yer know darn well I can’t talk quick, ’cos I’ve got to think in case I come out with something I shouldn’t.’
‘If yer don’t stop messing around, sunshine, I’ll be doing something I shouldn’t, never mind saying it. So just tell me, in plain English, and not a lot of words, what are yer here for?’
Nellie took her elbows off the arms of the chair, and folded her arms under her bosom. And the set expression on her face said she had no intention of moving until she was ready. ‘I’m waiting for Corker to come, to tell us the name of the horse what is going to win the race.’
Molly was flabbergasted. ‘You what! There’s nothing wrong with yer hearing, Nellie, and yer were here when Corker said it would be about six o’clock before the races were over. And if yer think I’m going to let yer plonk yer backside down on that chair, and stay there until six o’clock, then yer better think again, sunshine, ’cos I can’t spare the time to entertain a visitor. I’ve got too much work to do.’
‘It’ll be nice for yer to have company, girl. While yer do the ironing, I can talk to yer and keep yer amused. And that’s a ruddy good offer; yer’ll not get a better one. Yer’ll be so busy listening to me, yer’ll have yer work done before yer know it.’
Molly opened her mouth, but the retort died on her lips as she remembered the iron was still on the gas ring. ‘Oh, my God.’ She fled to the kitchen, switched off the gas, and reached for a towel to move the red-hot flat iron. ‘Nellie McDonough, I could wring your ruddy neck. Yer’ve upset me whole routine. I should never have opened the door to yer. And I want me bumps feeling for letting yer in.’
Nellie wasn’t a bit put out. ‘I would have gone round to the back door, girl, ’cos I know that’s always on the latch, and just walked in.’
‘D’yer know the thought that has just entered my head?’ Molly was trying her level best to stay calm, but it was hard going. ‘When anyone asks me how many children I’ve got, I always say four, ’cos I forget about you. So for twenty-odd years I’ve been telling fibs. With that record, there’s not much chance of me getting into heaven.’
In her devious mind, Nellie was telling herself that Molly was coming round. It wouldn’t be long before there was a pot of tea on the table, and a plate of custard creams. ‘Of course yer’ll get into heaven, girl, yer’ll walk it! As soon as Saint Peter knows ye’re my mother, he’ll welcome yer with open arms.’
Molly knew she was mad and wanted her head testing, but she couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped through her lips. And this paved the way for a gale of laughter. Holding her tummy, she bent over the table. ‘Nellie McDonough. Ye’re priceless, that’s what yer are. A bloody nuisance as well, like, but priceless none the less.’ She nearly choked on a bout of laughter. ‘Me, your mother, indeed!’ Wiping a tear of laughter away, Molly pointed a finger. ‘I think I can safely say, sunshine, that if I was your mother, God forbid, then yer’d have far more on top than yer’ve got. And yer’d be better mannered, saying please and thank you occasionally. Also, yer conversations wouldn’t be peppered with swear words.’
A frown creased Nellie’s forehead as her mind ticked over. Why didn’t her mate use little words, like what everyone did? In the end, after much deliberation, she said, ‘Yer’ve lost me altogether now, girl. Where does pepper come into it? I don’t like the ruddy stuff, it’s too hot for me, makes me sneeze and sweat like nobody’s business.’
‘I didn’t mean pepper what yer sprinkle on yer food, soft girl, I meant peppered as in—Oh, forget it, sunshine, it would take too long to explain.’ Molly threw her hands in the air. She gave in, surrendered, capitulated, lost the will to argue any more. It was her own fault, anyway, for opening the front door in the first place. Served her right for being so nosy. ‘I know when I’m beat, Nellie, but as I’m not completely knocked out, I’ll only meet yer halfway. So I’ll put the kettle on and make a pot of tea. We’ll have a cup each, with a biscuit, and then I’m sending you on yer way. Yer can go peacefully, or I can chuck you out. The choice is yours.’
When her mate walked through to the kitchen, Nellie’s face lit up and her short, chubby legs swung happily under the chair. She didn’t know why Molly had got herself all het up when the outcome had been plain from the second she’d knocked on the door. ‘Don’t forget, girl,’ she called, ‘I like two sugars in me tea, and two biscuits in the saucer.’
A voice came back. ‘Sod off, sunshine. Yer’ll have what I give yer and like it.’
‘Oh, I’ll like it, girl, as long as the tea’s sweet and the biscuits are custard creams.’
Corker was a happy man when he walked into Molly’s house at six o’clock. He’d managed to get a blank betting slip off the bookie, which he’d write out in front of his neighbours so they’d know what he was doing. He was pleased he’d be able to help Molly out, but his huge smile owed more to his win on the gee-gees.
Jack looked up from his fireside chair at the giant of a man who seemed to fill the small living room. ‘Yer have the look of a man who has something to be cheerful about, Corker. Did yer back a winner?’
‘Three of them, Jack.’ Corker rubbed his hands together. Hands that could lift a ton weight, yet were gentle when holding a baby. ‘It’s been a good day for me, all right, and I’m dead chuffed. The bookie had a bad day, though; he must have paid some money out. Still, it’s not often any bookmaker is out of pocket. I had a six to one winner, a three to one and a two to one. Not bad in one day, eh?’
‘You lucky beggar! Still, they say much gets more,’ Molly said, affection in her eyes for the man who had always been a good friend. ‘I couldn’t even win a blinking coconut at the fairground.’
Her husband chuckled. ‘To win, love, yer have to have a bet. And I can’t see you putting money on a horse.’
‘Not likely,’ Molly said with conviction. ‘I’ve got better things to do with me money.’
They all turned their heads when Nellie came barging in. ‘Have I missed anything?’
Mollie’s eyes were wide. ‘How the heck did you get in?’
‘Through the bleeding door, soft girl. How else could I have got in?’
Corker looked sheepish as he raised a hand. ‘I’ll take the blame for that, Molly me darlin’! I was so pleased with meself, I couldn’t wait to brag about me good fortune, and I must have forgotten to close the door behind me.’
‘I’ll let yer off,’ Molly told him, ‘but only because ye’re bigger than me. If I wanted to clock yer one, I’d have to stand on a chair and I haven’t got the energy.’
Nellie tutted. ‘Why don’t yer tell the truth, girl, and shame the devil? Yer won’t stand on a chair because ye’re afraid of showing yer bloomers.�
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Molly’s voice was shrill. ‘Bloomers! Nellie, bloomers went out with the ark. No one wears them these days, and I hope yer haven’t come just to embarrass me.’
‘No, I haven’t come for that, girl, I wouldn’t want to embarrass me best mate.’ Nellie allowed her bosom to blossom when she squared her shoulders. ‘I came because I saw Corker coming, and I knew yer wouldn’t knock for me, like yer promised to.’
Corker looked forward to these exchanges between the friends. He thought they were hilarious. They’d been like this since he’d known them, yet never once had they fallen out. ‘Nellie, I didn’t pass your house, so how did yer see me?’
‘I was looking for yer, soft lad, that’s how. If I’d waited until me mate knocked, like what she said she would, then I’d still be waiting when it was time for bed.’ Then her eyes lit up with devilment. ‘Not that I mind going to bed, Corker, don’t get me wrong. Bed is me favourite place, where I get all the excitement and pleasure I need to round off a good day. And my George, well he has the best times of his life in bed.’
Molly knew this was intended to wind her up, and she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. So she settled for a happy medium. ‘Nellie McDonough, it’s a good job for you that our Ruthie is over in her mate’s. I’ll not have her listening to talk like that at her age. Honest, the things yer come out with would make the devil himself blush. I don’t know where to put meself sometimes.’
‘I know where yer can put yerself, girl, and that’s on the couch. I’ll get me chair and put it by the table, and we’ll all make ourselves comfortable while Corker tells us whether our horse won, or fell at the first hurdle.’ She turned her head slightly, so she could give Corker a sly wink before going on. ‘Oh, don’t bother putting the kettle on yet, girl. We’ll wait until Corker’s finished.’
Molly put her hands on her hips and asked, ‘Who was yer servant before I came along, sunshine? Sitting on that throne of a chair giving yer orders out. Talk about Lady Muck isn’t in it.’