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Chapter Seventeen

‘Is Jack thinking of going down the recruitin’ office and volunteering?’

‘What makes you say that?’ Tilly thrust one end of the damp sheet at Fran and backed off with the other until the linen was pulled tight. Deftly they folded and came together. Tilly took the neat rectangle and dropped it into the basket at her feet.

‘Jimmy heard it on the grapevine,’ Fran said, and plonked her hands on her hips while waiting for Tilly to unpeg the final sheet hanging limp on the line.

‘Oh … yeah?’ Tilly scoffed as she gave an expanse of cotton to her sister and they repeated the process of stretching and halving. ‘Where’d he hear that? Couldn’t have been off the recruiting sergeant ’cos the weasel ain’t got it in him to turn up there himself and take the king’s shillin’.’

‘Yeah … well, I’m glad of that ‘n’ all.’ In pique Fran let go of the sheet and let Tilly fold it on her own. ‘Jim’s a family man. He’s just being sensible, stopping home and lookin’ out for his own. What’s needed is bachelors in the army.’ Fran’s defensive stance wilted. ‘Why are you always so against him? Way you carry on you’d think that you ‘n’ Jack never had a cross word between you.’ She gave her sister a significant stare. ‘I heard the two of yers last night going at it like the clappers.’ Fran’s hands again found her hips. ‘Kept me awake half the night.’ That peevish complaint drew no response from Tilly. ‘Anyhow, Jimmy’s been good lately, giving me regular money every week. He took the boys boatin’ on the lake down Finsbury last weekend.’

A snort of derisive laughter met that. ‘Well, if he’s trying that hard the old bag’s thrown him out fer sure.’

‘You’re wrong!’ Fran cried, quite agitated. ‘He’s still living with her. She won’t let him go, he says. Keeps causing a right scene when he says he’s moving out and coming back home where he belongs.’

‘I reckon she wants shot of him, first chance she gets. And he knows it. Soon as he can’t ponce off her no more he’ll be back and running you ragged instead to keep him in booze ‘n’ bacca.’

‘He’s changed …’

‘Ain’t listening to none o’ that crap, Fran,’ Tilly announced bluntly. ‘Heard it all before so don’t tell me no more ’cos we’re gonna end up arguing.’ Tilly contemptuously clicked two fingers. ‘He ain’t worth that as far as I’m concerned.’

For a few minutes the small back yard crackled with tension. Tilly turned back to Fran. ‘If you must know Jack has said a few things about enlisting. I put him straight on it. He’s needed here, with me ‘n’ the kids. He reckons if things over there ain’t better after Christmas he’s going. Always been patriotic and brave, has my Jack. Them sodding Kitchener posters stuck all over the place don’t help. Your country needs you!’ She spat. ‘Perhaps it do; but when you live in The Bunk your family’s needs are greater. So Jack still ain’t going, and that’s that.’

‘Well … now you understand how I feel about my Jimmy stoppin’ around with me and our boys.’

‘No I don’t,’ Tilly responded flatly. She scooped up the washing basket overflowing with damp cotton. ‘Gotta get going and get me rents collected.’ She shoved Fran’s washing at her then made for the back door. ‘I’d get that lot ironed if I was you and get it back over Highgate before the kids get home from school.’

Geoff looked out of the window of Kenny’s café at the steady drizzle.

Alice shook his arm to get his attention. ‘Why don’t you try and get a job too at the new factory that’s just opened up? Me and Annie are going to be drilling and tapping. But best of all we can get night work. Good pay for night work. We heard they might pay up to sixteen shillings to start off.’ She clattered her cup to rest on its saucer. ‘Bet the pay’s better than what you get in Milligan’s. Be nice to have good money for Christmas.’

Geoff wrinkled his nose. ‘Nah, I just got a rise. Me wages ain’t far short of fifteen shillings and I’ve still got me perks to take into account on top. Anyhow, don’t fancy factory work, nor working nights. Might tell me dad though. If he can sit at a bench drillin’ it might do him. He used to do night work in a factory back in Essex.’

‘Lots of girls’ll be working there for you to chat up,’ she ribbed him.

‘Hah, hah,’ Geoff said and leaned back in his chair. ‘Like you don’t know that there’s only one girl I’m interested in.’

‘When I’m older … I reckon I’ll be interested in you right back,’ Alice answered with a jaunty grin that nevertheless held a hint of flirtation. ‘But for now I’ve got to get meself a good job with good pay so’s I can save up for a few nice clothes and a decent place to live. Can’t wait to be grown up enough to get out of here.’

‘How old d’you reckon you’ll be before you’re grown up enough?’ Geoff asked acidly.

‘Keep on like that, Geoff Lovat, and I’ll make sure I never grow up enough.’ Alice narrowed her eyes on him to let him know he’d annoyed her. ‘Not for you anyhow.’ She looked away, feeling a knot tightening in her guts that she sensed was guilt. Sometimes she knew she wanted nothing more than to have Geoff put his arms about her and kiss her. But … she’d seen where that could lead, and she wasn’t ready to give up on her dream of a decent life in a nice area. Getting yourself in the family way led to a swollen belly and a lifetime of drudgery in The Bunk.

Geoff stared back at her from beneath his lids then laughed to lighten the tension between them. ‘Coming to the flicks this afternoon?’ he asked.

‘Alright,’ Alice said immediately, glad they were again on an even keel. It was one of the things she loved about Geoff: he never stayed sulky for long or bore grudges. Whereas at home her mum had seemed to be in a vile mood since her dad had said that after Christmas, if things still looked bad, he was going to definitely join up.

Every time the German planes whined overhead in the night sky her mum and dad would wake them and get her and Beth and Lucy to huddle beneath the table. There was no room for their parents too so they’d dive under their iron bedstead. Her dad had fashioned quite a sturdy little shelter for the two of them by putting planks of wood on top of the springs. So far they’d been lucky and the planes had carried on over the rooftops. But her dad always muttered the same thing on all clear. ‘It’s only a matter of time … only a matter of time …’

‘D’you reckon the war’ll end soon?’ Alice asked wistfully.

‘Nah,’ Geoff said dully. ‘No chance.’

‘Me dad’s going off to fight after Christmas.’

Geoff looked at Alice’s gloomy face. He’d heard the rumours too that Jack Keiver was ready and willing to do his bit for his country. ‘He’ll be alright; be back before you know it,’ he gruffly reassured her. ‘He’ll know how to keep himself safe and come home. He’s got it up there.’ Geoff tapped his head indicatively.

Alice smiled weakly. ‘I know he has …’ she murmured.

‘Dry yer eyes, Al, there’s a good gel.’

Alice turned on the bed to see her dad leaning over her. She took the handkerchief he was holding out to her and scrubbed her eyes. As she pushed herself onto an elbow he sat down on the bed beside her. Gently his tobacco-tinged fingers pushed back the dark hair that was sticking to her damp cheek. ‘Come in with all of us.’ He tipped his head to indicate the front room where a New Year’s Day party was in full swing. The piano keys were being tickled with far less skill than Jack would have brought to the rendition of ‘Pack Up Your Troubles’.

‘Don’t want you to go, Dad,’ Alice snuffled and ducked her face to his hanky to blot fresh tears.

‘I know. I don’t want to go neither, Al.’ Gently Jack gathered his distraught daughter into his arms. ‘But sometimes things you don’t expect just come along and put a spoke in your life …’ He paused, let out a sigh. ‘And you have to forget what you want and what you like and just do what you know’s right. All us men as can fight got to stand up and be counted now. Ain’t going right for us over there. We’ve got to stop the Germans soon as we can or it might not be planes goin’ over but Hun marching up the street.’

Alice blinked bloodshot eyes at her dear dad’s face. ‘You’ll come back, won’t you? They’ll let you come back on leave ‘n’ so on?’

‘Of course!’ he promised. ‘If they say I can’t have no leave, then I’ll have to run off.’

Alice whimpered a laugh. ‘Then you’ll get shot, right enough, and it won’t be Germans doing it.’

‘I’ll be back,’ he promised. ‘Got this to keep me safe, ain’t I?’ From an inside pocket he pulled out the silk scarf she’d given him as a present. ‘Me keepsake … lucky charm, ain’t it. Where I go, it goes.’ He folded the soft material and reverently put it back whence it came. ‘Keep me warm too, it will.’

Alice nodded and sniffed. ‘Wish Sophy had come back to see us for Christmas. Miss her, I do.’ It was true. Sophy’s absence at this special time of the year had heightened Alice’s feeling of melancholy. The usual excitement of Christmas Day had seemed to be lost without her.

Weeks ago Sophy had written to say that her employers wouldn’t give time off to staff over the holiday as they had guests to stay till the New Year. Alice could read between the lines. Her sister and Danny were happy to stay where they were. Alice didn’t begrudge Sophy her comfort and Christmas feasts in Essex.

‘Your big sister’s got a new life now. We all gotta be glad that she’s fallen on her feet. After what went on …’ Jack coughed and fell silent. ‘Well, it’s good to know she’s happy and settled, that’s all.’

‘I know; I’m glad she’s got such a good job. It’s just … I miss having her to talk to.’

‘Beth’s getting older. Soon you and her’ll be good pals like you was with Sophy,’ her dad suggested kindly. ‘She’ll be finished school before you know it and out workin’. Your mum’ll make sure of that.’

‘Yeah …’ Alice chuckled wryly. ‘Mum’ll make sure of that alright.’ She looked at her dad intently as though imprinting his beloved features on her mind. A surge of adoration prompted her to hug him round the neck. Before he could return the embrace she just as quickly let him go. Slowly she raised a finger and tickled the mark on her father’s jaw. ‘Freckles!’ she teased him.

‘Monkey!’ he mocked her back and dropped a kiss on the top of her dark, silky head. ‘Come in the other room,’ he urged her again. ‘Come ‘n’ join in a song with your old dad.’ Jack winced as a few off-key notes were strung together making a discordant noise. ‘That’s old Prewett havin’ a turn on the pianer. He’s a cack-handed sod, I’ll give him that!’

He lifted Alice off the bed and onto her feet. ‘Come on, Monkey. You and me’ll show him how it’s done.’

The front room was crowded, musky with the aroma of ale and tobacco smoke. Tilly immediately gave her husband a tipsy smile. Jack slid onto the piano stool, good-naturedly butting Bill Prewett off the end with his hip. Before Alice could sit beside him Tilly had plonked down close to her husband and leaned her head on his shoulder.

As Alice watched her parents tears needled the back of her eyes again but she blinked them away. Her mum was keen to show her dad how much he meant to her. The fond display seemed sweeter for being so rare. It reinforced Alice’s fears for her dad’s safety. Normally her mum was sparing with her affection. But the arguments between them over him joining up had now stopped.

Tilly had accepted Jack was going; she’d had to, for when Jack made up his mind on something, that was that. All Tilly could do now was wring every last drop of enjoyment from the time remaining to them. Even the presence of Jimmy Wild, sitting with an arm around his wife, all cosy and quiet like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth, couldn’t rile Tilly today. She wouldn’t let it. So, as her sister Fran gave her a tentative smile that begged her tolerance, Tilly raised her glass in a salute and smiled right back.

Geoff strolled over to Alice, a bottle of beer in his fist. ‘Alright?’ he asked, tactfully avoiding staring at her bloodshot eyes fringed by clumpy wet lashes. ‘Want a drop?’ He offered the bottle.

‘Ain’t allowed,’ she told him with a wrinkled-nose smile. Lucy had trotted up and clutched her about the knees. Alice swung her little sister up in her arms and began to dance with her despite that at three and a half years old she was now quite a weight to carry. They swirled around laughing to their dad’s gay tune. Round and round they went in uninterrupted rhythm till Alice felt quite giddy and nauseated and Lucy was shrieking in delight.

Geoff took a step forward and steadied Alice as she stumbled. ‘Daft … you’ll drop her.’ The chiding was kind. Then with the child between them he lightly held Alice and they adopted Margaret and Bert’s posture. Quite sedately they followed their elders’ steps and executed an approximation of a waltz whilst dodging the furniture.

Jack unobtrusively watched his tipsy wife watching their daughter as she danced. ‘New start for Alice at Turner’s engineering come next week.’

Tilly nodded. ‘Good job she’s making her way ’cos I’m gonna need the extra money once you’re gone.’ Her voice was thick with alcohol and emotion.

Jack turned and pressed his lips to his wife’s temple. ‘Won’t be gone long, love,’ he crooned, rubbing his cheek against hers to comfort her. ‘When I come back on leave I’ll fetch you something fancy from France,’ he promised. He looked back at Alice and Geoff. ‘Won’t get no better than him,’ he said quietly to Tilly. ‘That’s a good lad.’

‘Yeah … I know,’ Tilly slurred and, after a deep sigh, she snuggled up to Jack again. ‘She’s found someone like her dad.’ Tilly tilted her head, gave her husband a searing look. ‘Don’t want no fancy French stuff brought back. Just want you back. You come back home in one piece!’ she whispered, her fierce whiskey breath burning his cheek. ‘Don’t you dare leave me on me own, Jack Keiver!’

Kay Brellend 3-Book Collection: The Street, The Family, Coronation Day

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