Read Try a Little Tenderness Online
Authors: Joan Jonker
‘We’ll leave yer in peace now, Auntie Lizzie.’ Jenny kissed her cheek. ‘You go and snuggle up in yer warm bed, and have sweet dreams.’
Lizzie held her face for the other three kisses. ‘Yer’ve been angels, the four of yer. If yer didn’t have mams and dads, I’d adopt the lot of yer.’
Mick was the last to wave goodbye and when he heard Jenny’s familiar peal of laughter, he hurried down the hall. ‘What’s going on?’ Then he saw her standing on the pavement, her arms outstretched and her head back, catching the snowflakes as they fell. ‘Well, yer’ve got yer wish, Jenny.’
‘Oh, I’m so happy!’ Jenny was clapping her hands and spinning around. ‘I hope it sticks and we have a white Christmas.’
‘It’s sticking now, and it’s coming down thicker,’ John said. ‘Look at the size of the flakes, they’re like big white feathers.’
Laughing with happiness, Jenny bent down to gather
a handful of snow from the pavement. It wasn’t thick enough to make a decent snowball, but she’d just managed enough to fill her hand as Mick decided she was so pretty he wanted to be by her side. The devil in Jenny couldn’t resist, and the snow ended up on Mick’s face. Blinking rapidly, he wiped the snow away, growling like an animal. ‘Ye’re not getting away with that, Jenny Nightingale.’ He scooped her up in his arms and laughed as her arms and legs thrashed about. ‘Get me some snow, John, and I’ll give her a taste of her own medicine.’
This wasn’t to John’s liking at all. He felt like kicking himself for not thinking of it first. ‘Not on yer life, mate. I don’t mind holding her for yer, though, so pass her over.’
‘Pass me over!’ Jenny stopped thrashing about to shake a fist. ‘I’m not a sack of flaming spuds, John Hanley. Now let me down from here, if yer know what’s good for yer.’
‘She means it, mate,’ John was happy to say. ‘If I were you I’d drop her, quick.’
‘I think she’s too fragile to drop, so I’ll either put her down gently or carry her all the way to Janet’s so her feet won’t get wet.’
‘There yer go, big-head again.’ Jenny wasn’t struggling now; she’d hit on an idea to take him down a peg or two. Never in a million years did she think he could do it. He might get as far as the corner, but that was all. ‘There’s no way you could carry me all the way to Janet’s.’
‘No? Well, just watch me.’ Mick began to walk down the street, his back straight and no sign of strain on his smiling face. In fact, he was in his seventh heaven. ‘Yer wouldn’t like to bet on it, would yer?’
‘I’ll bet yer don’t make it all the way to Janet’s. But I’m not betting with money.’
‘How about a kiss, then?’
‘You cheeky beggar, Mick Moynihan, I’m going to tell yer mam on you.’
‘Just a peck on the cheek?’
‘Oh, all right.’ Jenny thought she was safe in saying that ’cos he’d never make it.
John, walking behind with Janet, was filled with envy. ‘If he does manage it, Jenny, I’ll have to carry yer back, just to prove I’m as strong as him.’
‘You can carry me, if yer like, John,’ Janet said. ‘That will prove ye’re as strong as Mick is. And it’ll save me getting me feet wet.’
John was filled with dismay. ‘Ah, I can’t do that, Janet! I wouldn’t have the energy left to carry Jenny home. And it’s her we’re betting on.’ He saw her face fall and felt a heel. But there was a lot at stake here. ‘I’ll tell yer what, though, I’ll carry yer tomorrow night. How does that suit yer?’
Janet nodded, but there was still disappointment showing on her face. ‘Yeah, that suits me fine, John. Thank you.’
John felt like crawling under a stone. ‘Oh, what the hell, come on, I’ll carry yer.’
Janet’s face lit up. ‘I’ll let yer kiss my cheek, John, as long as me mam doesn’t see yer do it. If she did, she’d hit yer on the head with the rolling pin, and I wouldn’t want yer to get hurt.’
John saw the funny side and his laughter joined Mick’s. ‘Oh, does it hurt when yer get hit on the head with a rolling pin? I didn’t know that.’
Down at the bottom end of the street, Laura was standing on Cynthia’s step when they heard the laughter. ‘That’s our Jenny, the stupid nit. Anyone would think she’d never seen snow before. It’s about time she grew up.’
‘I could never understand why ye’re so against yer sister,’ Cynthia said. ‘I’ve always thought she was a nice kid.’
‘Nah, you don’t have to live with her. She’s a real little mummy’s girl, never does nothing wrong. She gets on me wick, with that smile pasted on her face all the time. Too flaming good to be true, that’s our Jenny.’
Laura could feel the wet of the snow seeping into the
thin soles of the high-heeled shoes she was wearing, and she shivered as she wrapped her coat tighter around her body. ‘Anyway, it wasn’t half exciting listening to what yer did last night. Yer were very brave, Cynthia – I couldn’t have done it. Fancy yer catching them in the act and having the nerve to ask those two men for help! I would have wet me knickers and run like hell. But I really hope Larry and Jeff did get their noses broken, it’s what they deserve. And fancy you following them all that way. That took some guts, that did.’
‘I had to follow them to find out where they lived. Now I know, I can take it from there. The hiding they got last night will be nothing compared to what their wives will do to them when they learn what their husbands get up to every Tuesday and Thursday. I’m going to blow those two sky high, and take great delight in doing it.’
‘Come on, Amy, get a move on, will yer?’ Mary sounded impatient. ‘The flaming shops will be crowded and there’ll be nowt left by the time we get there.’
‘Keep yer hair on, girl, I’m being as quick as I can.’ Amy waddled into the hall and reached to lift her coat from one of the pegs on the hallstand. ‘I don’t know what the big rush is for, anyway, seeing as Wilf’s put our turkey aside, the greens have been ordered and will be ready for us to pick up, and the Maypole will have our order ready.’ She slipped her arms into her coat. ‘Ye’re a proper bleedin’ worry-wart, girl, and yer’ll have me nerves wrecked the way ye’re going on.’
Mary tutted. ‘Who, please, said last night that we’d better get to the shops early so we wouldn’t get trampled in the crush?’
Amy grinned as she picked up her basket. ‘Aye, well, that was last night. Things look different when ye’re lying in bed all nice and warm. It was a real struggle to get me legs over the side of the bed, I can tell yer. They took one look at the snow on the window sill and decided to stay put. I gave them a good talking to, explained that you were coming early, but they wouldn’t budge. In the end I had to resort to playing dirty, and I threw the bedclothes back when they weren’t looking.’ She slipped her keys into her coat pocket and shook her head at her neighbour. ‘I don’t know why ye’re standing there yapping yer head off when we’ve got stacks to do. Have yer forgotten it’s Christmas Eve?’
Mary rolled her eyes before looking down at her neighbour’s feet. ‘I hope yer’ve got sturdy shoes on, the snow is inches deep.’
‘These are the only shoes I’ve got, girl, apart from me best ones. They wouldn’t be a ha’porth of good in this weather, so it’s Hobson’s choice, I’m afraid.’
The two friends walked briskly down the street. With each step, Mary was pushed closer to the kerb as Amy clung to her arm in an effort to keep her feet on the slippery ground. ‘Careful, Amy,’ she said, as a car went past and sprayed her with slush, ‘otherwise I’m going to end up in the gutter.’
Amy chuckled. ‘Now I wouldn’t say it, being yer mate, like. But there are those who would say they weren’t surprised that yer ended up in the gutter.’
‘Now why would they say that?’
‘Well, you know, anyone that’s always bragging and swanking, that’s where they usually end up,’ Amy told her, straightfaced.
‘You wouldn’t say that, though, would yer, sunshine?’
‘Not on yer life, I wouldn’t! And I’d flatten anyone that did! I mean, you and me have been mates for nearly twenty years now, and if we ever fell out I wouldn’t know what to do with meself.’ Amy gave what Mary called one of her dirty laughs. ‘Especially on Christmas night.’
‘Ye’re a corker, Amy Hanley, it’s a good job I don’t take a blind bit of notice of yer.’ Mary pushed her friend into the butcher’s shop. ‘My God, Wilf’s doing some business today. I see he’s got his wife in helping.’
‘We shouldn’t have to wait, we’ve paid for our bleedin’ turkeys. All he’s got to do is hand them over the counter.’
‘Amy, yer can’t expect Wilf to serve yer before all these other people. He’d have a mutiny on his hands if he did.’
‘Sod off, girl.’ Amy stood on tiptoe to see over the shoulders of the women in front. ‘Good morning, Wilf,’ she called out. ‘I see ye’re coining it in as usual. I bet when
Father Christmas comes down your chimney, he’ll find yer counting yer money. He won’t leave yer nothing ’cos he’ll think yer’ve got enough.’
Wilf, red in the face after being on the run since he opened the shop at eight o’clock, looked up and groaned. ‘Oh, dear Lord, haven’t I got enough trouble without sending me the biggest troublemaker in the neighbourhood?’
Every head in the shop turned. Those who knew Amy smiled; those who didn’t tutted impatiently. If the little fat woman thought she was going to jump the queue, she had another think coming. And Wilf’s wife, Irene, didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She’d been the butt of Amy’s jokes a few times and, not having her husband’s sense of humour, she hadn’t thought them very funny. She’d make sure she didn’t serve her, she’d leave that to Wilf.
Amy, bobbing up and down like a rubber ball, stuck her hand in the air. ‘I’m not going to cause no trouble, Wilf, I can see ye’re busy. So if yer’ll just pass over the turkeys that me and me mate chose and paid for yesterday, we’ll leave yer in peace to make yer fortune.’
There was muttering amongst the crowd and dark looks were aimed at the two women ‘Yer’ll have to wait a while, Amy, I can’t serve yer now. I’ve only got one pair of hands, and some of these ladies have been waiting a long time.’
Mary was beginning to feel uncomfortable, but Amy was undeterred. ‘Then they should have done what we did, instead of leaving it until the last minute. This means that me and me mate have got to queue twice for the same bleedin’ turkey, and yer can sod that for a lark.’
‘Yer may as well serve her, Wilf,’ said one of the neighbours from their street, ‘otherwise she’ll carry on something shocking.’ The woman said it with a smile on her face, hoping to do Amy a favour, but it didn’t go down well with some of those waiting.
‘She’s not going before me,’ said one.
‘Let her wait her turn like the rest of us,’ said another.
‘Ay, missus, I waited me bleedin’ turn yesterday. I was stood here so long with me eye on this flaming turkey, that I got real friendly with it. I even gave it a blinking name. I christened it Ben, after my feller, ’cos I always have to wait for him, as well.’ Smiles were appearing on faces now, and Amy was encouraged. ‘I’ll lay odds that when that turkey sees me, it’ll run to me shouting “Mammy”.’
If Wilf had had the time, he’d have taken his hat off to her. The smiles had turned to titters and even a couple of full-blown laughs. ‘Come to think of it, Amy, it does look like you. There’s definitely a family resemblance.’
‘I’ll take that as a compliment, Wilf Burnett, because if I didn’t, I’d be round that counter to give yer a fourpenny one. And now, will yer do the gentlemanly thing and reunite me with me baby, so I can take it home and put it to bed in me roasting tin.’
Wilf had served two customers while all this was going on. He’d weighed and wrapped two turkeys which were now lying on the counter. The customers didn’t know he was waiting to be paid, they’d turned around to watch Amy. ‘Ladies, can I have yer money, please?’
One of the women took a pound from her purse. ‘Here yer are, take for both of them and I’ll get Lucy’s money off her later.’ When Wilf came back with her two bob change, she said, ‘Give that woman her turkey, she deserves it.’
Wilf gave his wife the eye. ‘There’s two bags on the floor out there, love, with Hanley and Nightingale on. Pass them over, will yer, so we can have a bit of peace?’
Amy wasn’t going to go quietly, though. ‘I just want to make sure yer’ve not pulled a fast one on me and given me the wrong bird.’ She pulled the turkey out by its legs and held it high. ‘Ay, Wilf, has this bird been on night-shift?’
‘Not that I know of, Amy, but then I’ve been working most of the night and haven’t had much time to get acquainted with it. Why?’
‘I think yer’ve been working this poor bleedin’ thing all night, too, ’cos it’s only a shadow of its former self. Look, it’s got no bleeding meat on its legs! I’ve heard of sparrow legs, but this is ridiculous! And another thing, Wilf Burnett, how could yer notice a family resemblance when it’s got no bleeding head?’
‘It was while I was cutting its head off, I thought of you. I remember wishing something when I brought the chopper down, but I can’t for the life of me think what it was.’
Amy’s laugh was the loudest as she put the turkey back in the bag. ‘Nice one, Wilf. I’ll get me own back after Christmas. After all, this is one time of the year it’s a slap on the back and goodwill towards all men. So have a nice Christmas, Wilf, and you Irene. Don’t be spending all yer time counting yer money, try and enjoy yerself.’ Being pulled out of the shop by Mary, she yelled, ‘Merry Christmas, ladies. And don’t yer be doing anything I wouldn’t do if I got half a chance.’
Once outside, Amy turned to Mary, her lips pursed. ‘If ye’re going to talk that much in every shop we go to, we’ll never get finished. So keep yer trap shut, girl, and try and behave yerself.’ Waddling ahead, she muttered, ‘Honest to God, I’ve never known anyone like yer for yapping. Yer’d talk the hind legs off a donkey – that’s if yer knew a donkey, and providing it had hind legs.’
When they got to the greengrocer’s, Mary made Amy stand outside. ‘The shop’s full, and I’m not putting up with any more shenanigans from you. So you stay right there and I’ll bring yer things out to yer.’
Billy Nelson was rushed off his feet, even though he had his wife and son helping. But he still had a smile on his face and a joke on his lips. He spotted Mary as he was weighing potatoes and called, ‘Where’s the queer one, then?’