Authors: Joan Jonker
‘You coward,’ Marg said, when she stood outside the closed gate. ‘Come out here, and say to me face what yer’ve been calling me and me mate. Come on, look me in the eye and tell me again what yer said we looked like. A couple of tarts, I think that’s what yer said, but correct me if I’m wrong.’
Behind many a curtain, women were waiting with bated breath. Was the street bully about to get her just deserts? There would be no tears shed for her if she did. There wasn’t
a family in the street that hadn’t fallen victim to her vicious tongue. And they would be delighted to see her suffer the same humiliation she’d meted out to others.
They weren’t to be disappointed, thanks to Marg Boden. For the determined expression on her face when she leaned over the gate and grabbed hold of the neck of Florrie’s pinny caused the big woman to quickly change her tactics. Common, blowsy, and a bully she may be, but a fool she wasn’t. ‘What the hell are yer doing? It was a joke! Can’t yer take a bleeding joke?’
‘You’re the biggest joke of the lot, Florrie Lawson, and I can’t stand yer! It’s about time someone brought yer down to size, and I’m just in the mood. If yer’ll open the gate, so I don’t have to climb over it, I’ll prove to yer exactly what size you are.’
But Florrie hung on to the gate like grim death. ‘It’s coming to something when yer can’t even crack a joke without being attacked.’ She looked across to where the Meadows family were standing. ‘I’m surprised at you, Eva Meadows. Ye’re usually as quiet as a mouse. You and me have never had no trouble.’
‘Seeing as I’ve never had a conversation with you, Florrie, it would be difficult for us to have had any trouble. Half a dozen words we’ve exchanged over the years, and that has suited me fine. I don’t like anyone who has a loud mouth, and who thinks being a bully is clever. Hitler was a bully who thought he was clever, but look what happened to him. He lost the war.’ Eva picked up the shopping bags and handed them to David to take inside. ‘Put her down, Marg, and come in for a cup of tea. I’m spitting feathers and me feet are killing me.’
‘I’ll put her down gladly, queen, ’cos I can’t stand the woman. But I won’t come in yours for a cuppa. I’d better get
home to my feller, or he’ll have a cob on.’ She released Florrie and dusted her hands as though to brush dirt off them. ‘I’ll come in for me shopping, then I’ll get off home. My feller is easy-going, but he does have a limit.’
However, when Marg went into the Meadows house, and put her new coat back on for them to admire, she forgot about her husband. The deep mauve coat was military style, with gold buttons down the front, and two on each cuff. It fitted perfectly, and Marg, slim and elegant with hands on hips, paraded it like a professional model.
‘It’s lovely, Marg,’ Poppy said. ‘Did you get it from the same shop me and Mam went in?’
‘Yeah. It’s a little treasure is that shop. A coat like this for four pound, I couldn’t believe it.’ Marg chuckled. ‘Mind you, it cost five pound as far as my feller is concerned, so I don’t want any of yer to let the cat out of the bag.’
‘That’s a lousy trick, Marg,’ Eva said. ‘Yer sweet talk him out of the money, then lie about the price. I couldn’t do it if he was my husband.’
‘It won’t hurt his pocket, queen. He’s not short of a few bob. What he doesn’t know isn’t going to worry him.’
‘I won’t tell Ally, sweetheart,’ Eva said, ‘but if he asked, I wouldn’t tell a bare-faced lie. So don’t bring me into any discussion over the price of the coat.’
Marg’s eyes rolled. ‘Ye’re too bleeding good to be true, you are, missus. Yer don’t drink, don’t smoke, and only swear once in a blue moon. It’s a wonder yer haven’t got a permanent headache with that ruddy halo on yer head all the time.’ She winked at Poppy. ‘How does it feel to have an angel for a mother, queen? Yer’ve got a lot to live up to, both you and David, if in later life yer want to hear people say, “Ah, they both take after their mother, she was an angel.”’
David chortled. ‘Ay, Marg, don’t be putting years on us. We’ve got our lives ahead of us, me and Poppy. And when we’ve sown our wild oats, and settle down to old age, then we’ll start taking after our mam.’
‘Marg, will yer go home, sweetheart, to that fine man who is your husband?’ Eva started to gently push her neighbour towards the door. ‘I don’t want him to blame me for keeping you out so long, so don’t you tell him I’ve kept you talking.’
David picked up the two bags, saying, ‘These are heavy. Have you had a spending spree?’
‘The big bag has me old coat in, that’s why it’s heavy. The other has some groceries, nothing exciting.’
‘I’ll carry them to your door,’ David said. ‘And if Ally tells you off for being out so long, I’ll stand like a man and take the blame.’
When they were alone, Poppy reminded her mother, ‘Don’t forget Peter is calling for me, Mam. Can we get the tea over early and tidy around before he comes? I’m not a snob, but I’d like the place looking nice.’
‘It won’t take long to make our tea, sweetheart. I’ve brought some boiled ham for sandwiches, and a tin of pears for afters. And I gave the room a good going over this morning before you were up.’ Eva gave her daughter a hug. ‘He won’t be looking for faults, love. He’ll only have eyes for you.’
‘Ay, that’s the title of a song, Mam! Ooh, I can feel myself dancing to that tune, and the words are really romantic.’
‘Yes, I know, sweetheart. I’m not so old I don’t keep up with the latest songs. I know all the tunes and the words that go with them, ’cos the girls in work are singing all day.’ Eva chuckled. ‘I couldn’t grow old if I wanted to. I wouldn’t be allowed. But I wouldn’t have it any different, for life would be very dull if I couldn’t keep up with the times.’
‘Me and David will make sure you don’t ever grow old or lonely, Mam, don’t worry about that. We’ll both get married eventually, and then you’ll have grandchildren to keep you young. There’s a lot to look forward to, for the three of us.’
‘I know that, sweetheart. I couldn’t ask for more loving children than you and David. When yer dad died, I thought it was the end of the world. That’s how I felt. I was never going to be happy again, not ever. But I hadn’t reckoned on my children turning into kind, caring, loving adults.’ Eva didn’t mean to be emotional, but tears were very close when she said, ‘Your dad will be looking down on us now, and he’ll be happy that I’m not lonely, and that I’m surrounded by love.’
Poppy brushed a hand across her eyes. ‘Don’t set me off crying, Mam. I don’t want to go to the dance with red eyes.’
They didn’t hear David coming into the room, and looked guilty when he asked, ‘What are you two cooking up, huddled together like that?’
‘We’re not cooking anything, love, we’ve decided on an easy tea. How does this sound? Slices of lean boiled ham on thick slices of homemade bread from Gregson’s bakery? And then pears and cream for afters? Unless yer prefer chips from the chippy?’
David had felt the tension when he’d walked into the room, but was wise enough to let well alone. ‘I don’t want chips, Mam. I’ll settle for what you and Poppy feel like. I’m easy over food, you know that.’
‘It’s only just turned a quarter past five, so we’ve plenty of time to have our meal and tidy away before Peter comes,’ Poppy said. ‘And it doesn’t take long for me to get meself dolled up.’
Eva was on her way to the kitchen when she had a thought. ‘David, what did Ally think of Marg’s new coat? Did he like it?’
‘Yeah, he seemed pleased with it. But you know what men are like, they don’t make a fuss the same as women. The girls liked it, though. They were taking turns trying it on when I left.’
Eva raised her brows. ‘Did Ally ask how much Marg paid for it?’
‘I didn’t stay long, Mam, because I was expecting Ally to ask, and I’m a coward. Walk away from trouble, that’s my motto.’
‘That’s the best thing to do, sweetheart, then yer can’t lose any friends. Not that it makes any difference to Marg; she’s got loads of friends. She doesn’t keep anything back. If she thinks something, she’s right out with it whether yer like it or not. But she gets away with it, and she’s popular with friends and neighbours.’ Eva smiled. ‘Except for Florrie, across the road. Marg can’t stand her.’
‘I gathered that, Mam,’ David said with a chuckle. ‘When I saw her nearly choking the woman, I said to myself that she mustn’t like Mrs Lawson. And I made up my mind, right then, that I would never get on the wrong side of Marg.’
‘Her bark is worse than her bite, David,’ Poppy said. ‘You should know that by now. She got in a temper today because of what Mrs Lawson said about her and our mam. And it’s about time someone gave that terrible woman a taste of her own medicine. I bet all those watching Marg were cheering her on. She had the guts to do what everyone in the street would like to do. I wouldn’t ’cos one puff from Mrs Lawson would blow me over. Anyway, I’m going to get washed and changed now before tea. Then I won’t be in a mad rush later.’
‘This is Peter, Mam,’ Poppy said, and watched her mother holding her hand out. ‘Peter, meet my mam.’
‘Pleased to meet yer, lad.’ Eva was thinking what a nice-looking, well-dressed man he was. ‘I’ve heard a lot about yer from Poppy.’
‘All good, I hope, Mrs Meadows?’
‘Oh, Poppy never speaks ill of anyone, Peter. At least not to me she doesn’t.’
‘You’ve met my brother David, who insisted on waiting in to see you. And that is an honour, for he’s going to be late for his date with a very beautiful girl.’
Peter had his trilby hat in his hands, and he was running the brim through his fingers. ‘Never keep a lady waiting, David, because she may decide not to hang around, and leave you in the lurch.’
‘No, no, no!’ David drawled in an American accent. ‘No dame would leave me in the lurch. They’re putty in my hands.’ Then he straightened his tie and his face. ‘Just to be on the safe side, though, I’ll make tracks. You see, it’s her turn to buy the tickets tonight.’
‘Go on, yer daft ha’p’orth,’ Eva said. ‘It would serve you right if the girl left you swinging.’
‘We’ll go out at the same time, Mam.’ Poppy gave her mother a kiss. ‘Are you going next door to play cards?’
Eva nodded. ‘It’ll pass the time away, and we have a good laugh. We only play for matches, so it’s a cheap night’s entertainment. But you lot get off and enjoy yourselves.’ She shook hands with Peter again. ‘It’s been nice meeting yer, lad. Enjoy yer night out. And I’ll wait up until yer come in, Poppy. We’ll have a cup of tea before going to bed, and yer can tell me what the dance was like. And remember the names of the old songs; I’d like that. It’ll take me back to the days I went to a tuppenny hop.’ She waved her children and Peter off, then went back to the living room and sank into a
fireside chair. She’d have half an hour to herself, then go next door.
Poppy and Peter were earlier than usual, and on the dance floor at the Grafton there were only about a dozen couples enjoying the freedom of movement as the band played a waltz. ‘Oh, we’ll have to come early in future,’ Peter said. ‘This is heaven, having room to cover the floor without bumping into other dancers.’
But good things don’t last for ever, and half an hour later there was barely room to move. For those who loved dancing, though, it was worth the odd elbow in the ribs, or trodden-on toes. Rhythm was in the blood, and for some it was the greatest pleasure in their lives.
‘The next dance is a slow foxtrot, babe, so get ready to be on the floor while there’s room to get round at least once in comfort.’
They’d been on the floor a few minutes, both humming to the tune the band were playing, when Peter seemed to lose control of his feet, and he stumbled. ‘That’s what happens when you’ve got two left feet,’ Poppy said, laughing. Then she looked into his face to find it drained of colour, and his eyes were staring unblinkingly over her shoulder. She got a fright, thinking he was ill, and then dismissed that idea. But they were standing still in the middle of the floor, making it difficult for the other dancers. She’d never known anything like it. It was only a matter of seconds, but to Poppy it seemed an eternity.
‘Peter, are you all right?’ She dropped her arms, embarrassed because other couples were giving them daggers. ‘Peter, what’s wrong with you?’
He looked down into her face and stared, as though he
didn’t know her, or indeed where they were. Then he shook his head as though to clear his mind. ‘I’m sorry, babe. Come on, let’s dance.’
‘You’ve just frightened the life out of me, Peter Broadhurst, and if that was your idea of a joke, then I don’t think it was funny. I really thought you were having a seizure. You were like a statue – I couldn’t even see you breathing! I don’t want to finish this dance. Let’s get off the floor. You must know something was wrong with you, and I want to know what it was. If you’re ill, then you shouldn’t be dancing, anyway.’ She took his hand. ‘Come on.’
‘I’m all right now, babe. Don’t panic.’ Peter’s smile was forced, his face colourless. ‘I thought I saw a ghost from the past, and it threw me off course a bit. But it was all in my imagination, and it’s gone now.’
Poppy found that very hard to believe. There was more to it than Peter was letting on, but surely if he was feeling unwell he wouldn’t be stupid enough to step on to a dance floor. ‘I think we should sit out until after the interval. You may be feeling better by then. And looking better, ’cos you’re as white as a sheet. And I’m not taking any chances, in case you pass out on the dance floor.’
There were chairs lining the walls of the dance hall, and Peter cupped Poppy’s elbow as they walked towards them. They’d just seated themselves when a voice said, ‘Hello, Peter.’
As Poppy looked up, she heard Peter’s sharp intake of breath and turned to face him. He looked exactly as he had on the dance floor. His eyes were unblinking and his face and body were rigid. Then Poppy looked back to the girl who was standing in front of them. She looked to be in her early twenties, tall and slim with dark hair falling around her shoulders, and she was very attractive.
When Peter didn’t move or speak, Poppy asked the girl, ‘Are you a friend of Peter’s?’
The girl nodded. ‘I haven’t seen him for two years, but yes, we were friends.’