Try a Little Tenderness (7 page)

Her face as innocent as a baby’s, Amy asked, ‘So it’s all settled, is it, girl? Christmas night at the Nightingales’? Ay, hasn’t that got a nice ring to it? Christmas night at the Nightingales’. It sounds proper posh. Just wait until I tell my Ben he’s been invited to a party, he’ll be over the moon. I’ll have to make sure I get his suit out of the pawnshop so he’ll look the part.’

‘Just hang on a minute, sunshine! I don’t remember agreeing to it.’

‘Of course yer agreed to it, girl. Yer just weren’t listening to yerself when yer said it. And I’ll say here and now, with me hand on me heart, that I think it’s real magam … er, manig … er, real good of yer.’

‘What yer were trying to say, sunshine, is that it’s magnanimous of me.’

‘There yer are, yer see, you think ye’re that as well! And that’s another reason why yer make a better hostess than me – yer know all the big words.’

‘For the life of me, sunshine, I can’t see what big words have got to do with a party.’

‘Well, it’s like this, yer see, girl. They say God made
everybody good at something. To you He gave the gift of words, to me He gave the gift of craftiness. And they’ll both come in useful at our party. When you’re handing the plates of sandwiches around, all yer’ve got to do is throw in a few of those big words and they’ll be that flabbergasted they won’t notice the sandwiches are brawn, and not turkey.’

Mary couldn’t hold out any longer and she shook with laughter. What could you do with someone who had an answer for everything? With tears running down her cheeks, she answered herself. You could have a party for her, that’s what.

The knock on the front door had Mary pushing her chair back as she wiped her eyes. ‘Who on earth can this be?’

‘Unfortunately, girl, God didn’t give me the gift of seeing through walls, so I’m afraid the only way yer’ll find out is to open the bleedin’ door.’

When Mary saw who her visitor was, her smile widened. ‘Hello, Molly, get yerself inside out of the cold.’

‘It’s yerself, then, Mary? Sure, haven’t I been knocking so long I was beginning to think there was no one at home.’ It was ten years since Molly Moynihan left the shores of Ireland but the lovely lilting accent was as strong as ever. She was a tall woman, well built, with a shock of light gingery hair, pale blue eyes and a face that was never far from a smile. As she stepped into the hall she peered down at Mary, concern in her blue eyes. ‘Have yer been crying, me darlin’?’

‘I’m having an attack of hysterics, Molly, which means I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.’ Mary winked at the woman who had lived in the house opposite for ten years and was a good friend. ‘And as yer might know, it’s me mate what’s brought about this state of affairs. She’s in there now, but take my advice and don’t mention the word Christmas if yer know what’s good for yer.’

Amy’s voice came through to them. ‘Ay, I heard that!
Don’t you be blackening my name, Mary Nightingale, or I’ll have yer up for slander.’

Molly was laughing as Mary pushed her into the living room. ‘Oh, it’s yerself, Amy Hanley. And what mischief has the good Lord allowed yer to be up to now?’

Amy spread out her hands, a real hard-done by look on her face. ‘I can’t believe anyone can be as ungrateful as this one. I did her a big favour by sharing me great knowledge and experience with her, and do I get any thanks in return? Do I heckerslike! A load of abuse, that’s what I get. I tell yer what, Molly, it puts yer off helping people. They take yer kindness and throw it back in yer face.’

‘Me heart bleeds for yer, so it does.’ Molly pulled out a chair and sat facing Amy. ‘And it’s surprised I am that yer best friend doesn’t appreciate yer kindness. What was it yer were offering that she threw back in yer face?’

‘Don’t ask, Molly, or yer’ll live to regret it.’ Mary got in quickly before her friend. ‘I’ll tell yer how crafty this one is. She’s sitting there looking all angelic, as though butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, but behind that mask she’s dead devious. I’ll tell yer the story, word for word, and yer can judge for yerself. It started off with her coming in to scrounge a cup of tea and get a warm by my fire because she’s too mean to have one of her own …’

Molly and Amy leaned their elbows on the table and waited to be entertained. They knew how good Mary was at imitating her neighbour, she had the voice and facial expressions off to perfection. And they weren’t disappointed. Their giggles turned to chuckles, and then loud guffaws as Mary took them from the round of toast to Elsie Blackburn and the milkman, Sammy Cooper with the lump on his head and the meal of liver and onions his wife was going to set before him as a peace offering. But when it came to the Christmas party, and how Amy had skilfully worked it around so that Mary, thinking she was being invited as a guest to the Hanleys’, was inveigled into becoming the
hostess, the Irishwoman was banging the table as she rocked back and forth with laughter. ‘Holy Mother of God, Amy Hanley, is there no end to yer trickery?’

Amy was sitting back with her arms folded, looking extremely pleased with herself. She found Mary’s version of events very funny, and thought she herself came out of it very well. ‘I didn’t trick her, Molly Moynihan, she walked straight into it. She’d fall for the cat, she’s that gullital.’

Mary spluttered. ‘Yer mean I’m gullible, yer daft nit, not gullital.’

‘There yer are, Molly, she admits I’m right. Now yer can’t argue with that, yer heard it with yer own ears.’ Amy tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. ‘By the way, Molly, just out of curiosity, like, is your room any bigger than this?’

‘Oh, I’m wise to yer, Amy Hanley, so I am. Yer’ll not be catching me out so easy, indeed yer’ll not.’

Amy sighed as she gazed at Mary. ‘I’m sorry, girl, but yer can’t say I didn’t do me level best for yer. It looks as though you’re stuck with having the party, like it or not.’ She turned to Molly. ‘Seeing as ye’re too miserable to have the party at your house, how would yer like to come to our party? And Seamus, of course, and your Mick.’

Mary dropped her head in her hands and groaned. More often than not Amy’s jokes turned into reality. ‘What about Annie Baxter and her husband, Amy? And, of course, yer could ask Lily Farmer and her feller.’

‘Nah, I can’t stand them two, they get on me bleedin’ nerves. And after what yer’ve told me about the antics of Elsie Blackburn and the milkman, I wouldn’t associate meself with the likes of them. If yer invite any of them, girl, then even though it would grieve me, I’d have to turn down yer kind invitation.’

Molly chuckled. ‘Oh, it’s invitation only, is it?’

‘I haven’t even said I’ll have a party yet!’ Mary shook a fist in Amy’s face. ‘All this started because yer were too mean to light a flaming fire! I should have told yer to sling
yer hook and I’d have been spared all this.’

‘Then yer’d better make it plain, me darlin’,’ Molly patted her arm, ‘before yer friend here invites the whole street.’

‘I wouldn’t invite the whole street, I’m not that daft.’ Amy bit on her bottom lip to try and stop a smile appearing. ‘Half the street, perhaps.’

‘What would yer do with her?’ Mary spread her hands and shrugged her shoulders. ‘Okay, I give in. The Hanleys and the Moynihans are invited to a friendly get-together on Christmas night. But yer’ll have to help out with the food, otherwise I won’t be able to afford it.’

Amy beamed at Molly. ‘There yer are! I bet when yer knocked on the door yer didn’t expect to get an invite to a party, did yer?’ She eyed the Irishwoman with curiosity. ‘By the way, what
did
yer knock for?’

‘Amy!’ Mary blushed with embarrassment. ‘Yer’ll get me hung one of these days, yer cheeky article. What’s it got to do with you why Molly knocked?’

‘Yer don’t have any secrets from me, do yer, girl?’

‘I should be that lucky! You wouldn’t let me have any secrets.’

‘In that case, Molly may as well tell me what she’s come for, save me shouting over the wall to yer later.’

‘Well, now, I’d hate yer to have to stand on a bucket to see over the wall, that I would. Sure, I’d never forgive meself if yer fell off and broke a leg.’ Molly was glad she had come, the last half-hour had brightened up her day. She had no family here to visit, they were all back in Ireland, so she was grateful that she’d been able to make friends with her neighbours. Life would have been very lonely without them. Particularly these two, who were guaranteed to put a smile on the most miserable of faces. ‘A secret is something yer don’t want anyone else to know about, but I don’t think an ounce of Golden Virginia comes into that category, do you? Seamus asked me to get it for him, but I don’t need to go to the shops for anything so I came to see if Mary would get it
if she’s going out. It’s lazy I’m getting in me old age, and that’s the truth of it.’

‘Yes, I’ll get it for yer. I’ve got to run to the shops, so it’s no bother. That’s if I can ever get rid of me mate, here.’

Amy shuffled her bottom to the edge of her chair. ‘Ye’re getting rid of me right now, but not for long. I’m going home to get me coat, then I’m coming to the shops with yer.’ She linked her arm through Molly’s. ‘I’ll take yer out with me so yer can’t talk about me. Never mind about paying her for the baccy now, yer can see her later.’

Laura rushed in from school that night, her face flushed with excitement. ‘Mam, we’re all being allowed time off tomorrow to go to the Labour Exchange. Teacher said they give us a card and tell us where to go for a job. If there’s any jobs going, we can go for an interview the day after.’ She took a deep breath and let her heartbeat slow down. ‘Wouldn’t it be the gear if I got a job to start after Christmas?’

‘It certainly would!’ Mary took her hands out of the soapy water and shook them before leaning against the sink. She was pleased for her daughter and privately hoping that getting a job would be the makings of her. ‘You’ll have to look clean and smart tomorrow, then. I’ll press yer gymslip tonight and you can give yer shoes a good polish. Appearances are very important, sunshine, as are first impressions. If yer look scruffy then yer don’t stand much chance.’

‘We’re not going for interviews tomorrow, Mam, only to the Labour Exchange.’

‘Yes, I know that, sunshine, but they’re the ones who separate the wheat from the chaff. They know what the employers are looking for, and they’ll give out cards for interviews accordingly.’ Mary wasn’t worried about her daughter’s appearance, she knew she could stand up against anybody. She was a pretty girl, with a nice slim figure, rich
dark hair, finely arched eyebrows, full lips and wide eyes that were constantly changing from hazel to green. Dressed properly she stood as good a chance as any of the other girls. It was her attitude that worried Mary. She was far too self-assured for her age and too fond of answering back. ‘Just be pleasant and polite, Laura, and yer’ll do fine.’

Laura’s hair swung across her face as she shook her head, her green eyes flashing. ‘I’m not a kid, yer know, Mam. I do know how to behave meself.’

‘It’s important yer remember that tomorrow, sunshine, if yer want to get a job.’

Laura tossed her head again as she flounced out of the room. ‘I’m going to Cynthia’s.’

Mary sighed as she turned and plunged her hands into the water where she’d been washing some socks and knickers. Her daughter wouldn’t take criticism, she flew off the handle for the least thing. She was in for a rude awakening when she started work, for no boss would tolerate her high-handed attitude.

Mary rinsed the clothes through and wrung the wet out of them before folding them and placing them on the draining board. It was too late to hang them out now, she’d do it first thing in the morning, weather permitting. She lowered the gas-rings under the pans on the stove, then popped her head around the door to glance at the clock on the mantelpiece. It was a quarter of an hour before Stan was due in, she might as well put her feet up for a few minutes. It was then her eye caught the glint of gold paper on the sideboard and her hand went to her mouth. ‘Oh Lord, I forgot to take the baccy over to Molly. I’d better go now before I start putting the dinner out.’

Molly saw her neighbour crossing the cobbled street and when she opened the door she had the exact money in her hand. ‘It’s an angel, yer are, me darlin’. When yer want the favour returning, all yer have to do is shout out.’

Mary passed the tobacco over and took the money. ‘It
was no bother, Molly, I had to go out anyway. Besides, shopping with Amy is as good entertainment as yer’ll get anywhere. Every shop we go in, she causes mayhem. Honestly, she never ceases to amaze me, the things she comes out with. I’m pretty quick on the uptake, and I think I’ve got a sense of humour, but she leaves me standing.’

‘Sure, she’s on her own when it comes to humour, and that’s a fact. And she’s a heart as big as a week, I’ll say that for her.’ Molly leaned against the door jamb and folded her arms. ‘But don’t be talked into having a party on Christmas night, me darlin’, ’cos that’s taking a joke a bit too far.’

‘Oh, I’m not that soft, Molly, believe me. I’ll admit I wouldn’t have thought of it only for Amy sowing the seed, but I’m quite taken with the idea now. It won’t be a lavish affair, and yer’ll all have to muck in with the food, but it would be nice for the three families to get together for a few hours, don’t yer think?’

‘It would be grand, me darlin’, and I mean that sincerely. But, sure, I’d be happy to invite yer over here, save you the bother.’

Mary shook her head. ‘No, it’s all arranged now, Molly.’ She grinned. ‘Another of Amy’s bright ideas was that I should send invitations out and do the job properly. Actually, her exact words were, “Show them yer were brought up, girl, and not dragged up.” But I’ll settle for asking yer by word of mouth. Seven o’clock, Christmas night, at the Nightingales’.’

Molly straightened up, a wide smile on her face. ‘Will yer look at these two fine-looking men coming down the street. The two finest specimens of manhood ye’re likely to see in the whole of Liverpool.’

Mary followed her neighbour’s eyes and saw Seamus Moynihan, with his son Mick, walking down the street. And as Molly had said, they were fine-looking men. Seamus was taller and broader than his sixteen-year-old son, but both were as handsome as they come. They would stand out in
any crowd, with their raven black hair, deep blue eyes, strong white teeth and dimpled cheeks.