Chocolate Girls (3 page)

‘She just lets you go under all the time,’ she’d complained after one of Miss Proctor’s gruelling sessions. ‘I’m not going back to her. I’ll never learn to swim.’

‘Oh yes you will,’ Ruby said. Both of them were fifteen then. Patiently, week after week, Ruby had held Edie’s chin and told her what to do, gently towing her up and down the pool until her limbs started to cooperate and she gained the confidence to go on her own. By the end of the year she was happily swimming lengths. Edie adored swimming, the glowing feeling it left you with. Part of it was the lovely showers, with their half-moon-shaped enclosures and endless supply of hot water.

There were all the other activities too. Ruby was part of the Bournville amateur dramatics group and Edie had discovered she could draw quite well and joined the Art Club. It had been her favourite thing. Now she was getting married, she’d have to give all that up.

‘You can still come – you can be my guest,’ Ruby had told her recently.

But already Edie could sense a distance between them and her heart was heavy. If only she didn’t have to give up work things would be perfect.

Seated beside Alec in the car, Janet watched his deft hands with their little tufts of dark hair as they turned the wheel, shifted gears.

He glanced at her. ‘You’re quiet. Everything all right?’ She nodded, staring out through the windscreen. Tiny flies kept colliding with it, pinned there, helpless. She tried to arrange words in her mind. She’d wait until they’d cleared the middle of town and get him to stop somewhere. By the time they passed the Moseley Baths Alec was talking fluently about Herr Hitler and Germany. Was there going to be a war as so many were saying? He thought not. Of course we were wrong to let them take Czechoslovakia, but sometimes a price had to be paid to keep the peace. No one would be so foolish as to start another war like the last lot.

‘It’s such a nice evening, I thought we’d go out into the country. Henley-in-Arden maybe. See what we fancy.’ When Janet didn’t reply, Alec looked at her again. ‘Are you sure you’re all right? You look a bit off-colour.’

‘I do feel rather queasy.’ This was the truth. She’d felt queasy on and off all day. ‘Look—’ He was driving through King’s Heath. ‘Let’s go into the park. It’s lovely at this time of year.’

‘But darling, I was hoping we could be a bit more private.’

I know what you were hoping, she thought. Every time they met now was an excuse for lovemaking. As soon as they had crossed that threshold, the talking had stopped.

‘Please.’ She spoke sharply. ‘I need to get out.’

He sighed impatiently and parked the car at the edge of the park. That sigh of his decided her. She would not tell him. If she told him everything he would have to be involved. He’d take over. And her mother might have to know. Better just to deal with it herself, somehow.

In the park he took her arm. ‘Well, this is nice,’ he said grudgingly, as they walked up towards trees. He moved his lips close to her ear. ‘But I was hoping to have you tonight. I need you so badly, darling.’

‘Alec—’ Janet stopped and stood square in front of him. ‘Please. Enough. We have to stop this.’

His dark brows pulled into a frown. ‘But I thought . . . You’ve enjoyed yourself, haven’t you? I thought we were in this together?’ He tried to take her arm again, saying resentfully, ‘You’ve certainly
seemed
to be enjoying yourself.’

Janet blushed. ‘Don’t, Alec.’ She looked at her feet in their white summer sandals. ‘What we are doing is wrong. We have to stop it and if you’re not prepared to do it, then it’ll have to be me.’

‘But—’ He put his hands on her shoulders.

‘What if I was to fall pregnant?’ she flared at him. ‘Have you thought about that?’

‘But darling, I’ve always been careful!’

‘Not always.’

They looked into each other’s eyes. That one time, their only whole day out together, in Wales, which extended late into the evening, into making love on the sand in the dark. ‘It’s so much nicer without,’ he’d said. ‘It’ll be all right, darling, just this once . . .’

‘You’re . . . not – are you?’ he said now.

Janet swallowed. Oh, if only she could tell him, have him take everything on, take away the terror that came over her at night when the reality of what was facing her chilled through her. She had no idea what she was going to do.

‘No. But I want an end to this.’

He heard her coldness. His hands slid from her.

‘Oh. I see.’ He sighed again, looked up at the pale sky above the trees. ‘Well – I suppose, all good things . . .’

They stood there, at a loss for a moment.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. Her chest ached with tears but she remained dry-eyed. It had to be like this. She had to face the future herself, without entangling him, his family. That was unthinkable. And she didn’t want him deciding things for her.

‘I’d better drive you back then.’ She was silent. ‘Janet – d’you really mean this?’

Her eyes met his, steadily. ‘Yes.’

Edie leant up on her elbow and looked down at her husband. Husband!

It was the morning after their wedding and she had woken in utter bewilderment when she saw the beams above her, and the lopsided slant of the room. Where in heaven was she? The room over the Pack Horse out at Kidderminster! Her wedding night. Everything felt strange: the lumpy mattress, the stiff cotton of her new nightdress, the unfamiliar rhythm of doors opening and closing downstairs and the hot heaviness of another body the other side of the bed.

She slid her hand across and touched Jack’s back, hard and flat, like a wall, just as it had felt last night when he’d been on top of her, leaving that sticky mess behind. She flushed with shame. Surely it wasn’t supposed to be like that?

She pushed herself up to look at him, over his pale, thin shoulder, naked except for his singlet. All she could see was the bruised portion of his face.

Tuesday, the evening they’d gone looking for lodgings, she’d called at his house. Mrs Weale, his sickly, complaining mom, called him down. There was a pause, then Jack appeared, tall and lanky in the doorway. Edie’s hand went to her mouth.

‘Oh my God, Jack – what’ve you done?’

The right side of Jack’s normally impish face was barely recognizable. His eye had almost disappeared into the swelling and his cheek was a swollen purple mess. The other side of his face, Edie could see, wore a decidedly sheepish expression.

‘Bit of a fight,’ he admitted indistinctly, looking down at his grubby boots.

‘And it’s worse than that,’ Mrs Weale complained, folding her arms in a way which immediately made Edie feel like taking Jack’s side. ‘Go on then – are you going to tell her, or am I?’

Jack suddenly strode over, hoiking Edie’s arm. ‘Come on, Ede – we’re going out.’

‘Jack – just tell me!’

‘Come to the park and I’ll tell yer.’

‘But Jack—’ She stopped outside, exasperated to the point of fury. ‘We’re s’posed to be going over Fordhouse Lane – to look at the rooms.’ She peered more closely at him. ‘What a sight you look,’ she said tearfully.’ You’ve got to go to our wedding Sat’dy looking like that.’

‘Thing is, Ede . . .’ Jack began. ‘It were that bastard Scottie MacPherson.’ She could hear his anger, feel him tense up at the very mention of his name. He’d had a long-running feud with Scottie. Whenever Jack, Frank and the other mates he knocked about with ran into Scottie, it was like a red rag to a bull. Edie even suspected they’d forgotten what the original grudge was about. If it hadn’t been Scottie it’d be someone else – that was just how they were.

‘We ’ad a set-to outside the Dog last night. And then I were late for work this morning. Very late. And they took one look at me and said I’d had enough warnings . . .’

Edie’s heart sank even lower. ‘They let yer go, daint they?’

He nodded, wincing at the pain in his head.

‘Oh Jack, how could yer?’ Edie was enraged by seeing her mother’s predictions coming true even before the wedding! ‘You know my job finishes as soon as I’m a married woman. I’ve got enough to put down for that Mrs Smedley for the rent, but after that it’s up to you ’til I can find a little job somewhere. What’re we going to tell her?’

‘She don’t need to know I’ve lost my job – I’ll soon find summat else. I always do, don’t I? Don’t fret, love. We’ll soon be on our own without them all nagging all the time. It’ll be all right. You’ve got to trust me.’

‘
Trust
yer?’ Edie exploded. ‘I could bloody
kill
yer! Look at the state of yer!’

Jack nudged her as they walked slowly, side by side. Edie faced forward, refusing to be appeased. He tried tickling the back of her neck as she dragged him off to catch the bus to Stirchley.

‘Aw, Edie – don’t be like that. I won’t be out with my pals once we’re married. I’ll ’ave to settle down then, won’t I?’

‘It ain’t funny Jack. And yes, you have got to stop fighting – be more responsible. Yer like a great big load of babbies, all of you lads, that you are.’

‘Come on—’ He slipped his arm round her and she flung him off, but he could see she was beginning to come round. ‘Let’s go and see that Mrs Smedley – get our little nest sorted out, eh?’

‘No thanks to you,’ Edie grumbled.

‘You’re getting wed on Sat’dy. Look on the bright side, eh.’ He leaned round and his one wholesome eye peeped cheekily into hers. He pecked a kiss on her freckly nose.

‘I’m gunna ’ave to look on the bright side of your face an’ all,’ she said. ‘You great big Charlie.’

The swelling had subsided completely by their wedding day, but the whole area had turned a rainbow mixture of blue, mauve and yellow and she’d felt embarrassed and disappointed in him, especially when Jack’s friends made ribald jokes about his exploits. And her mom had loved it of course, sweeping into church all dressed up, peering snootily down her nose at the Weales from under the brim of that big hat. The photographer had arranged it so that Jack and Edie stood sideways on in the wedding picture, so the good half of his face was showing, she looking up at him, as she only came up to his chest.

The day had gone well enough. Edie’s mom and dad had concealed their differences, or at least ignored each other all day. Her mom had made a great to-do over Edie’s wedding dress, forcing her into an elaborate crêpe and lace creation with a long skirt and a short overskirt, when Edie would rather have had something pretty and simple. But, oh no, Nellie was going to make sure things were done in style, even if Edie was marrying a Weale. Otherwise Nellie hadn’t said a word to her, not even her last night at home before the wedding. No motherly advice, nothing. Thank goodness for Ethel Bonner. Ruby’s mom had roused herself enough to advance Edie’s education on the intimate realities of married life.

‘I don’t s’pose Nellie iron bloomers will’ve said a word to her, poor wench,’ Ethel said. So at least Edie had been prepared in theory, even if the reality turned out to be a mortifying disappointment.

Edie had wondered if her mother was reconciled to her marrying Jack, but as she processed back along the aisle of St Andrew’s church as a married woman on Jack’s arm, proud of how smart he looked in his wedding suit (except for his black eye) and holding her little bouquet of roses and carnations, she caught her mother’s eye and saw a hard, dry-eyed expression on her face which chilled her. Then she thought, Oh well, Mom, it’s done now and even if you can’t be glad for me, you can’t stop me. You never wanted me really, either of you, so now you’ve got shot of me. She tried to forget her bitterness a moment later when she was out in the warm sun, being pelted with rice by the cheering Cadbury girls. A lump rose in her throat as she thought how they’d been more of a family to her over the years. She had been given a gold-edged bible by Miss Dorothy Cadbury as as gift when she left the firm, which was a lovely gift, but getting married meant she was losing all these pals! But now she had Jack, Edie told herself. Her new life was beginning. Having her own husband and home would be worth everything. Jack’s best man, Frank, gave her a moist peck on the cheek. Ruby, stately looking in her yellow bridesmaid’s dress, managed to catch the bouquet, which Edie made sure she threw in her direction. Ruby’s fleshy features broke into a beam of delight and Edie saw her wink at Frank.

‘Oooh,’ she chuckled, ‘I don’t think that’s going happen in a hurry!’

After all the chatter and good wishes, everyone cheered them off for their wedding night. Edie and Ruby embraced tightly, both with tears in their eyes.

‘Yer look lovely, Edie,’ Ruby sniffed. ‘I ’ope yer have a lovely time with Jack. I ain’t half gunna miss yer though.’

‘Oh Rube—’ Edie kissed her, laughing and crying at once. ‘Your make-up’ll start running! And I’m coming back tomorrow – we’re not going to Australia! You come and see me as soon as Jack and me are in our new place.’

‘You won’t keep me away!’ Ruby sniffed, trying to smile.

They hugged each other tight and Edie felt a deep pang on parting with her as she and Jack left to catch the train. This was the end of an era for them and Ruby was the one being left behind. The next morning, lying beside her new husband, Edie wondered if Ruby felt even half as desolate as she did.

Easing herself up in bed, she sat with the bedclothes over her knees, her fiery hair loose over her shoulders. Arms folded, she instinctively stroked the scar on her arm with her fingers, as she did whenever she felt ill at ease. There was a little gabled window from which she could see a sward of grass, a gate, and sheep dotted in the distance. A dog was barking somewhere and drifting up the stairs came the smell of frying bacon.