Try a Little Tenderness (29 page)

‘I’ll go, Mam,’ Jenny said quickly, before her mother could speak. ‘Me and Janet will sit with her – we’d like that.’

Mary sighed as she looked at her eldest daughter. Selfish to the core, as usual. There was only one person she cared about and that was herself. But angry words wouldn’t change her so what was the point in getting herself all worked up for nothing? So Mary smiled at Jenny as she thanked God that both sisters were not alike. ‘Thanks, sunshine, I might have known yer wouldn’t let me down. I’ve got Miss Marshall’s key and I told her someone would be there about seven. So get yerself ready and go round for Janet.’

Jenny’s chair scraped back. ‘I’ll wash the dishes first.’

‘No, yer won’t,’ Stan said, ‘Laura will wash the dishes.’

Laura’s face was like thunder and a sharp retort was on the tip of her tongue. But it stayed there, because her father’s face told her he would brook no argument. So it was with ill-grace she collected the plates and made for the kitchen.

In the house next door sat the Hanley family, and Amy had just finishing telling them the news. Mealtimes in the household were usually lively, with the house ringing with laughter. But tonight was different, as Miss Marshall was
well liked by them all. The two boys, John and Eddy, were remembering that when they were younger, never once had the old lady chased them when they were playing footie outside her house. Never shook a clenched fist at them nor threatened to tell their mother like the other neighbours did. And Edna was thinking of the times Miss Marshall had given her a ha’penny for going on a message.

‘Is the old girl going to be all right?’ Ben asked. ‘Shouldn’t she have a doctor?’

‘We decided to wait and see how she is tomorrow.’ Amy cupped her chin in her hand. ‘I’ll tell yer what, that Molly Moynihan is as good as any doctor. Like Florence Nightingale she was. Me and Mary wouldn’t have had a bleedin’ clue what to do, but Molly did.’ She gave her eldest son a dig in the ribs. ‘By the way, I want yer to take a bucketful of coal over and bank the fire up for Lizzie.’

‘I’ll go now then, ’cos I’m going out later.’

‘It’s no good going before seven ’cos yer won’t get in. Mary took the door key so one of the girls can let themselves in to sit with Lizzie for a couple of hours. It’ll probably be Jenny – I can’t see the other selfish so-and-so helping out.’

John’s spirits lifted. He’d get there for seven and pull a fast one on Mick. ‘Okay, I wasn’t going anywhere exciting, anyway.’

In the house opposite, the Moynihan family were discussing the same subject. ‘So, with one thing and another, it’s been quite a day,’ Molly said. ‘But, thanks be to God, she’d only just fallen when Amy saw her. If she’d been left to lie on the ground for long, in this weather, she’d have died of cold, and that’s the truth of it.’

‘Is there anything I can do, sweetheart?’ Seamus asked. ‘Sure, haven’t I always had a soft spot for the dear old soul? I bet there’s never been an angry word passed her lips, nor a swearword; she’s too much of a lady for that.’

‘We’re sorted out for today, everything’s under control.
Amy’s sending John down with coal and he’s going to bank the fire up to last through the night. And Mary’s going down last thing to take Lizzie down the yard.’ Molly was facing her husband but her eyes were looking sideways to where her son was sitting. ‘Oh, and young Jenny is going to sit with Lizzie for a couple of hours to keep her company.’

Mick stopped chewing and his mouth fell open. But he quickly recovered when the implication of what his mother had said hit home. He swallowed the food in his mouth and put down his knife and fork. There were more important things at stake than food. He racked his brain to think of something that would put him on a level pegging with John, but his usually sharp mind was lacking in ideas. ‘I’ll take her some coal, as well, to save you ladies having to lug it down tomorrow.’

Molly kept her face straight. ‘I’ve told yer, me darlin’, John’s taking a bucketful. If you turn up with another, the old lady will have a fit, so she will.’

‘Well, I’m going down with something, I’m not letting John Hanley have a clear field.’ Mick nodded his head for emphasis. ‘I bet he’s laughing sacks, having it handed to him on a flamin’ platter.’

Seamus felt his wife kick him gently on the ankle, and turned to see the laughter in her eyes. ‘You could go down tomorrow night, son, that would make it fair. Anyway, aren’t yer supposed to be going out with John? So he won’t be spending much time there, will he?’

‘Huh! Yer don’t think he’ll be thinking of me, do yer? Not on yer blinking life, he won’t. If Jenny’s there he’ll stay put. Not even Jean Harlow would get him out.’ Mick glared at his mother. ‘Why didn’t yer say I’d take the coal down?’

Molly leaned across the table and gave him a broad wink. ‘Well, yer see, me darlin’, I thought Miss Marshall would appreciate a homemade custard instead.’

When the words had sunk in, Mick’s eyes shone and his dimples appeared. ‘D’yer mean yer’ve made her a custard?’

‘I have that, me darlin’. And although I say it as shouldn’t, it looks very appetising, so it does. Lovely golden brown, with a pinch of nutmeg on the top.’

‘Mam, ye’re an angel. And a clever one at that.’

‘Perhaps devious would be a better word. But, sure, I couldn’t stand back and see me only son and heir left out in the cold.’

Mick jumped to his feet. ‘I’m going to get washed and put a clean shirt on.’ He got halfway up the stairs, stopped for a second then turned and came down again. Poking his head around the door, a wide smile on his handsome face, he asked, ‘Would yer say that a custard was a better present than a bucket of coal?’

Seamus dropped his head back and roared with laughter. ‘Sure, now, that would mightily depend upon whether yer were hungry or cold.’

When they were alone, the big Irishman put his arm around his wife’s shoulder. ‘’Tis a bit of the divil himself yer have in yer, Molly Moynihan, and that’s a fact.’

She met his eyes and the love she had for her husband was there to see. ‘I’ve two men in me life, Seamus Moynihan, and if they need a little help from me, then I’ll always do me best. But, sure, I’ll not be making friends with the divil to do it.’

Jenny pulled two of the wooden chairs away from the table and set them in front of the couch. ‘There now, we won’t have to raise our voices to hear each other.’

Lizzie Marshall smiled. ‘It’s very kind of you to come and sit with an old woman. But young girls should be out enjoying themselves. Haven’t yer got boyfriends?’

Jenny got a fit of the giggles. ‘We’re too young to go out with boys, Miss Marshall.’ She turned to her friend, who was blushing to the roots of her hair. ‘Anyway, no one will have us, will they, Jan?’

‘They will when we’re a bit older.’ Janet was quite
indignant. ‘Another few months and me mam said I can go dancing.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘Have you asked yer mam yet if you can come with me?’

‘Not yet, but I think I could get round her. Especially if I’m going with you.’

Lizzie was visibly startled when there was a loud ran-tan at the door. ‘Oh dear, I wonder who this can be at this hour?’

‘It’ll only be John Hanley, Miss Marshall, don’t be frightened. Me mam told me he was coming with some coal. I’ll let him in.’

But when Jenny opened the door it was to see Mick standing there with a plate in his hand, covered by a pure white cloth. ‘Me mam thought Miss Marshall might fancy this for her supper.’

‘Oh, I thought it was John knocking.’

Mick feigned surprise. ‘Why, is he coming over?’

Jenny nodded as she held out her hand. ‘I’ll take it, shall I?’

But Mick wouldn’t have parted with the plate for all the tea in China. After all, she wouldn’t be asking John to hand a bucket of coal over, it would be too heavy. ‘No, I’d like to give it her meself, and ask how she is. It would be bad manners not to pay me respects. And me mam is red-hot on respect. If I went home and said I’d just handed the plate in and didn’t see the invalid, I’d get a clip around the ears for not being polite.’ His white teeth shone in the darkness. ‘And yer wouldn’t like me to get a clip around the ears, would yer, Jenny Nightingale?’

Jenny’s peal of laughter rang out in the deserted street. ‘Mick Moynihan, has anybody ever told yer that yer talk too much?’

John Hanley had just closed the door behind him when he heard Jenny’s laughter. A smile came to his face but quickly disappeared when he saw Mick standing outside Miss Marshall’s house with a plate in his hand. Then he
started to leg it across the cobbles. There was some dirty work at the crossroads going on here – his mam hadn’t mentioned anything about Mick. The bucket was banging against his leg, but he didn’t slow down, even though he had his best pair of kecks on. The only thing on his mind was to stop his rival from setting foot in that house. But he was too late. Mick was already mounting the step when he reached the pavement opposite. ‘Don’t close the door, Jenny,’ he shouted. ‘This bucket is heavy.’

Mick stood in the tiny hall and feigned surprise at the sight of his mate. Jenny had gone inside with the plate, so she wasn’t there to hear him tell fibs. ‘Well, well! Fancy seeing you here, mate.’

‘I’m supposed to be here, you’re not!’ Although John was none too pleased that things hadn’t gone according to plan, he secretly admitted he was being underhanded as well, so he was as guilty as his friend. Changing the bucket over to the other hand, he asked, ‘How did yer pull it off, yer devious swine?’

Mick tapped the end of his nose with a finger. ‘That’s for me to know, and you to find out. But I don’t put a foot outside this door until you do. Now, shall we make our presence known, or have yer become attached to that bucket of coal?’

‘I feel like throwing it over yer, if yer want to know. I’ve got me best trousers on and they’ll be as black as the hobs of hell.’

Lizzie, who never had a visitor, had seen so many people in her house today she was dizzy. But oh, wasn’t it lovely to have company? Particularly in the evening, which was the loneliest time of the day. ‘Well, two pretty girls and two handsome lads, aren’t I lucky?’

‘I can see the two pretty girls, Miss Marshall,’ Jenny said, nudging Janet and giggling, ‘but where are the handsome lads?’

John was quick to reply. ‘She doesn’t recognise me, ’cos
I’m covered in coaldust.’ He took out a hankie and wiped a cheek. ‘There yer are, Jenny, it’s me.’

‘I know it’s you, soft lad, but I want to know where the handsome lads are.’

‘I’m saying nothing,’ Mick said. ‘It doesn’t do to blow yer own trumpet.’

‘Well, I think ye’re both very handsome,’ said Lizzie, ‘and if I wasn’t seven times older than yer, I’d be fluttering me eyelashes and going all coy.’

John, still lumbered with the bucket, asked, ‘Shall I put this in the kitchen and bank the fire up before I go, Miss Marshall?’

‘You’ve got a date, haven’t yer, John?’ There was a mischievous twinkle in Mick’s eyes. ‘So there’s no need for you to stay, I’ll see to the fire.’

‘Over my dead body, mate. When I go, you go.’

‘Oh, ye’ve both got dates, have yer?’ Jenny said, before turning to her friend. ‘Yer see, Jan, there’ll be no fellers left by the time we’re fifteen. Just our luck, eh?’

‘Neither of us have got dates,’ Mick said, turning the corners of his mouth down in an expression of self-pity. ‘No girls will have us ’cos we’re too ugly.’

‘Ah, yer poor things.’ Jenny put a hand to her heart in a show of sympathy. ‘I don’t think ye’re that ugly, do you, Jan?’

Janet thought they were two very handsome lads but was enjoying the leg-pull. ‘No, not really ugly. I mean, in the dark they could be mistaken for Cary Grant and Gary Cooper.’

‘That’s where we’re going wrong, John,’ Mick said. ‘We should stay indoors during the day and only come out at night, like Dracula.’

Lizzie was taking all this in and thoroughly enjoying herself. She wasn’t missing anything, either. Unless she was very much mistaken, both boys had their eyes on Jenny. It was understandable because she was a lovely girl, in looks
and in personality. But both boys couldn’t be winners, so it would be interesting to see what happened in the next year or so.

‘Can I put this bucket down, Miss Marshall?’ John asked. ‘Otherwise I’ll have one arm a yard longer than the other.’

‘Put it in the kitchen, dear, and then you and Mick sit down and keep us company.’ Lizzie had a hard time keeping her laughter at bay as she watched Mick take advantage of John’s brief absence. Within seconds he had pulled a chair from the table and plonked himself next to Jenny. And John’s face when he returned was a study, as he tried to think of a way to usurp his mate. She could almost hear him thinking, and when his face lit up she knew he’d found a solution.

‘I know, let’s have a game of pass the parcel. And the one what gets left with the parcel, has to do a forfeit.’ John thought his idea was brilliant. ‘We’ll have to spread out, though, so let’s put the chairs back around the table.’

Lizzie gave him ten out of ten for initiative. Nevertheless, the idea didn’t appeal to her. ‘I’m too long in the tooth to be doing forfeits, John.’

‘Yer wouldn’t have to, Miss Marshall, you could be referee. Yer just turn yer head away, so yer can’t see, and clap yer hands when yer want us to stop.’

Mick wasn’t about to be moved from his prime position so easily. ‘Where are yer going to get a parcel from?’

‘It doesn’t have to be a proper parcel,’ said John, equally determined. ‘A piece of coal wrapped in paper will do.’

‘Oo, er, what kind of forfeit?’ Janet wanted to know. ‘I can’t sing or dance, and I don’t know any jokes.’

‘Don’t be so miserable, Jan!’ Jenny thought it was a good way of entertaining Miss Marshall. ‘Yer know nursery rhymes, don’t yer?’

Janet looked relieved. ‘Is that all I have to do?’

They were being too longwinded for John’s liking. At this rate Mick would still be sitting pretty next to Jenny when it
was time to go. He took hold of Janet’s arm and lifted her from the chair. ‘That’s all yer have to do, Janet, so sit at the table and Jenny will sit next to yer. Me and Mick will sit the other side.’

For the next two hours, Lizzie Marshall laughed more than she’d ever laughed in her life. The two boys were really comical as they tried to outdo each other. When Mick got caught with the parcel, he chose to sing a song. He had a fine voice, too, but it was drowned out when John decided his whistling would make a fine accompaniment. And when it was John’s turn to pay a forfeit, Mick used the table as a set of drums while Jenny and Janet hummed completely out of tune.