Try a Little Tenderness (17 page)

Mary turned and was halfway down the hall when she felt a blow in the small of her back that knocked the wind out of her. She bent double, and was gasping for breath when she heard soft laughter behind her, and although the movement spread pain right through her body, she
straightened up, determined not to give the other woman the satisfaction of seeing she’d been hurt.

Celia was leaning against the wall, an evil smile on her face as she rubbed her knuckles. ‘Nobody hits me and gets away with it. And that’s only a taste of what yer’ll get if yer ever come to this bleedin’ house again, with yer preaching and high-falutin’, holier-than-thou attitude. To hear yer talk, anyone would think yer were a cut above the rest, but all yer are is a stuck-up bitch. Now get going, and I can say goodbye to bad rubbish.’

Mustering all her courage, Mary walked back and faced her. ‘Ye’re wrong there. When I go, I’ll be leaving the rubbish behind.’ She lowered her gaze to Celia’s feet, then slowly let her eyes travel the length of the woman until she reached her face. ‘You should feel quite at home here with all the muck and rubbish – it’s where yer belong. The house could be made clean with the help of some elbow grease, but no one could change you; ye’re wicked right through to the core of yer.’

There came a knocking at the door, then Monica’s voice. ‘Are yer coming, Mary, I’ve made a pot of tea.’

‘Yeah, I’m coming now, I’ve finished me business in here.’ Mary waited for a few seconds to see if Celia had anything more to say, but the woman remained silent, a sneer her only sign of retaliation. So Mary opened the front door and stepped into the street to face the concern in Monica’s eyes.

‘I’ve been worried to death about yer, sweetheart, yer’ve been that long.’

‘I’m all right, honest. I said what I wanted to say and got it all off me chest. Actually, I said more than I intended because of the state of the house. She wasn’t very happy about it and gave me a load of lip, but it’s off me chest now and I feel better for it.’

‘Are yer coming in for a cuppa?’

‘No, I’ll have to get home because me mate’s waiting for
me. But why don’t you come up to ours one day? We could have a good natter and I’d enjoy that.’

‘I’ll do that, sweetheart. I’ve got yer address so I’ll write and tell yer what day I’m coming. Give my love to Stan and the girls,’ Monica hugged her tight, ‘and I’ll see yer soon.’

Celia stood with her ear pressed against the door and heard every word. And when the talking stopped, she made her way back to the living room, saying softly, ‘So yer feel better now, do yer? Protect yer family with yer life, will yer? Well, there’s one member of yer family who doesn’t think the sun shines out of yer backside. She’s the weak link, is Laura, and it’s through her I’ll get me own back on yer, Mary Nightingale. Yer’ll rue the bleedin’ day yer ever came here throwing yer weight around because I’m going to make yer pay for it.’

Amy was standing on the doorstep when Mary came up the street. ‘My God, girl, I was beginning to think she’d killed yer.’

‘Not quite, sunshine, not quite.’ Mary had only taken the tram for two stops because every time it swayed she felt like crying out with the pain. So thinking it best to keep her body in motion, she’d walked the rest of the way. She was glad she had now because the pain had eased off a lot. ‘Get yer coat and I’ll tell yer all about it on the way to the shops.’

‘Okay, girl, just give me one minute.’ Amy bustled down the hall and was back within seconds, struggling into the sleeves of her coat. ‘Let me make sure I’ve got everything. Me keys, me purse and me basket, all present and accounted for.’ She pulled the door behind her and linked her arm through Mary’s. ‘Right, I’m all ears now, girl. How did yer get on with yer stepmother?’

‘Don’t call her that, Amy, she’s no relation of mine. If she’s anyone’s stepmother, it’s the devil.’ As they walked, Mary recounted everything that had happened. And they’d
just reached the Maypole when she came to the part where she’d slapped Celia’s face.

‘Hang on a minute.’ Amy pulled her to a halt. ‘I can’t take all this in so quickly. Yer mean yer really slapped her face?’

‘I couldn’t help meself, not the way she was talking about me dad. Anyway, she got her own back with a vengeance.’ Mary continued her tale right up to where she parted from Monica Platt. ‘So, there yer have it. The whole sorry story.’

For once Amy was at a loss for words. Mary was so good at describing things, Amy felt she’d actually been there. In her mind’s eye she could see the dirty state of the house and the two women squaring up to each other. ‘The hard-faced, brazen bitch! I asked yer to let me go with yer, but yer wouldn’t have it. I’d have knocked bleedin’ spots off her. In fact, I’ve a good mind to go up there now and give her a good hiding.’ Amy was blazing. She knew what the girl was the first time she’d set eyes on her. She had brazen hussy written all over her. Joe Steadman must have been out of his mind to have got himself involved with the likes of her. ‘And yer said some of the neighbours were out?’

‘Yeah, me mam’s old mates. Women I used to run messages for and played with their children. I didn’t get a chance to talk to them, apart from Monica Platt, but I had a feeling they were cheering me on.’

‘And to think I missed all this,’ Amy said, shaking her head. ‘Did yer really threaten to put a window in?’

‘Yeah, sunshine, I did. But I can’t say I’m pleased with meself, shouting in the street like a common fish-wife.’

‘I wonder what yer dad will make of it?’

‘I’m not going to say a dickie bird to anyone, Amy, and I’m relying on you to keep it to yerself. I’m not even going to tell Stan.’

‘Yer can’t keep it a secret, girl, ’cos the queer one is bound to tell yer dad.’

‘I doubt it, Amy, I really doubt it. She’s not that soft, she
knows me dad wouldn’t take her part, not now. Yer see, although he’s never said anything, I think he wishes he could wake up one morning and find he’s been having a nightmare, and there’s no such person as Celia. There’s no wedded bliss in that house, I can tell yer. There couldn’t be, there’s no room for it with all the dirt.’

Amy blew out a long, deep sigh. ‘Come on, girl, let’s get the shopping in. I’ll mug us to two cream buns, to have with a cup of tea when we get home. And then yer can go all over it again in slow motion, so I haven’t missed anything.’

Mary pushed open the door of the Maypole, but before stepping inside, she turned her head. ‘What I’ve told yer was for your ears only, remember that. Not even a word in Ben’s ear when ye’re in bed.’

‘Ay, girl, when I’m in bed I’m too busy being otherwise engaged to talk. That’s for when yer’ve read all the
Echo
and there’s nowt on the wireless worth listening to.’

When Amy saw a smile light up Mary’s face, her heart lifted. After a cup of tea and a cream bun, her friend’s worries would have all but disappeared. Please God.

Janet Porter’s smile was wide when she opened the front door. ‘Jenny! Oh, am I glad to see you! I’ve been going to come round to yours a few times, but I was worried that yer might have gone a bit stuck up, now ye’re working in an office.’

‘Don’t be daft, it’s just a job, same as any other.’ Jenny was pleased with the smile of welcome from the girl who had been her friend all through school. ‘D’yer feel like coming for a walk, so we can have a good gab and catch up with our news?’

Janet held the door wide. ‘I’m helping me mam wash the dishes, so yer can come in and wait for us, I won’t be long. She’ll be glad to see yer, she’s always asking about yer.’

Jenny followed her friend into the living room where her father and brother were seated at the table. ‘Hello, Mr Porter. Hi-ya, Bill.’

‘Hello, stranger, long time no see.’ Vincent Porter flicked the butt of his cigarette into the fireplace and hooked his thumbs into his braces. ‘How’s the job going, lass?’

‘It’s fine, I love it.’

The sounds from the kitchen stopped and Janet’s mother came through, drying her hands on her pinny. ‘Well, well, a stranger in the camp. It’s good to see yer, queen, I thought yer’d fallen out with us.’

Jenny smiled. ‘Now as if I would. Me and Janet have never fallen out, have we, Jan?’

‘No, not once.’ Janet pointed to a chair. ‘Sit down, Jenny,
while I help me mam finish the dishes, then we can go out.’

Martha Porter shook her head. ‘Yer don’t have to help, queen, I’ve nearly finished. But don’t be rushing off out, I want to hear about Jenny’s job.’

Jenny sat down facing Janet’s sixteen-year-old brother, Bill, who had so far not opened his mouth. He couldn’t think of anything to say to the girl whose leg he used to pull something terrible. But she wasn’t a schoolgirl any more, she was a young lady, and a very attractive one at that.

‘I’m only a filing clerk, really,’ Jenny told them, the grin never leaving her face and her eyes shining. ‘But the manager is letting me practise on one of the typewriters and I’m hoping I make the grade as a typist.’ Her familiar infectious giggle brought smiles to the other four faces. ‘It’ll be years before I get me speed up to match the other women, though. Their fingers just fly over the keys so fast they make yer dizzy. So far I’m only using the one finger on each hand, although I was daring this morning and tried with two.’

‘Yer’ll get there, queen, don’t worry,’ Martha said with conviction. ‘Yer know what they say about Rome not being built in a day.’

‘If they’d only been using two fingers, Mrs Porter, it would never have got built.’ Jenny could feel Bill’s eyes on her. ‘What’s the matter with you, Bill Porter? Ye’re staring at me as though I’ve got horns sticking out of me head.’

‘I’m trying to make out who yer are.’ Like his parents and sister, Bill had rich chestnut-coloured hair, eyes that were constantly changing from brown to hazel, a square chin and a broad nose. ‘They keep calling yer Jenny, but the only Jenny I know is one who cadged a bull’s-eye off me last time I saw her, and she was wearing a gymslip.’

Her eyes dancing, Jenny leaned closer. ‘What’s the matter, Bill, d’yer want yer bull’s-eye back?’

Janet was getting impatient. ‘Ay, come on, Jenny, let’s go for a walk.’

‘I’ll come with yer,’ Bill said, bringing a smile to his
mother’s face. ‘A bit of fresh air will do me good.’

‘Yer will not!’ Janet was indignant. ‘Me and Jenny want to talk, and it wouldn’t interest you ’cos it’s girls’ talk.’

‘Oh, let him go with yer,’ Martha said, thinking to do her son a favour. ‘Get him out of our way for an hour.’

‘Ah, ay, Mam! I’m not having me brother traipsing around with us! Me and Jenny want to catch up on our news and we won’t be able to talk with him there.’

‘Just hang on a minute.’ Bill sat upright in his chair. ‘What about when I used to have to traipse around with
you
? I couldn’t go to the Saturday matinée without yer crying to come with me. I couldn’t even have a game of footie with me mates without dragging you along. I used to get me leg pulled soft over you. And yer were a proper little pest, always whinging.’

Janet was having a quick change of heart. If he mentioned that she used to wet her knickers she’d die of humiliation. ‘What d’yer think, Jenny?’

‘I don’t mind, honestly. Although I think he’d be bored stiff.’

‘No chance of that.’ Bill was looking decidedly pleased with himself. ‘I’ve always wondered what girls find to talk about. And yer should be pleased to have a handsome escort, who can see yer both safely home.’

Martha and Vincent exchanged knowing looks. Their son must have taken a shine to young Jenny, that was the only reason they could think of. Wild horses wouldn’t have dragged him out of the door to go for a walk with his sister. ‘Make sure Jenny’s home by ten,’ Martha said, ‘in case her mother worries where she is.’

When Bill got to his feet, Jenny gaped. ‘Good grief, you haven’t half got big since the last time I saw yer.’

While Bill grew two inches in stature, his mother did the bragging. ‘Five feet ten inches, he is, and still growing. And he takes a size ten shoe.’

‘If he keeps on at that rate, Mrs Porter,’ Jenny said as she
slipped her handbag over her arm, ‘yer’ll have to be looking for another house.’

After seeing the youngsters out, Martha came back chuckling. ‘D’yer know what, love? I think the penny’s just dropped with our Bill. He’s finally noticed the difference between boys and girls.’

Much to Bill’s dismay, the two girls linked arms with Jenny walking on the inside. Wanting to make a good impression, the boy had no option but to act the gentleman and walk on the outside, putting him next to his sister.

Jenny was in a very happy frame of mind. It was lovely to be with her old schoolfriend again. ‘How’s your job, Janet, d’yer like it?’

‘Very hot and very tiring.’ Janet was working in the pressing room of a laundry. ‘The women are nice, and we have a good laugh, but in the hot weather it’s killing. What with the heat from the pressers and the steam, the sweat just pours off yer. I never thought I’d hear meself say this, but I’ll be glad when the winter comes.’

‘It’s a job, our kid, that’s the main thing,’ Bill said. ‘If yer think it’s hot in your place, yer should try working with me, in the tannery. But when I get me wage-packet on a Saturday I forget how I’ve had to sweat to earn it.’

‘Ye’re sixteen now, aren’t yer, Bill?’ Jenny leaned forward so she could see him. ‘Yer’ll be earning more than me, I only get seven and six a week.’

‘I started on that, but I’ve had two rises since. It was me birthday a few weeks ago, and me pay went up to nine and six a week. Not bad, eh?’

‘Not bad!’ His sister’s voice rose. ‘It’s blooming marvellous! Especially when me mam only takes five bob off yer, the same as she does me.’ She squeezed Jenny’s arm. ‘He’s a real mammy’s boy, this one. She gives him all his own way, spoils him soft.’

‘I pay me own fares out of it, and buy me own shoes.’ Bill
glared at his sister. Mammy’s boy indeed. ‘You’ll get the same when ye’re earning it.’

‘I hope you two don’t come to blows.’ Jenny laughed. ‘Yer’ve both got hot jobs and hot tempers to go with them.’

‘It’s his fault,’ Janet said, as they turned into County Road. ‘We should have left him at home.’