East End Angel (13 page)

Christmas passed without any news from Jim. Even though her dad had managed to bring home a rabbit for Christmas dinner, as he’d won the boilermakers’ raffle, she and Ruby had to put on brave faces. Neither of them had received letters. Nor had Mrs Nesbitt agreed to any of Pearl’s requests to join them for Christmas dinner.

When the news came over the wireless that Hong Kong had fallen to the Japanese, it felt very gloomy. Pearl counted herself lucky she could wear her slippers and Jim’s plaid dressing gown and mope by the fire. Poor Ruby had had to see out the day with their mum and dad.

The following week a letter dropped on the mat. Jim told her how much he missed her and how upset he was at not getting Christmas leave. He hoped to be home for the New Year before his posting.

Pearl sank down on the chair. She would be seeing him soon. But he was being posted. Where were they sending him? Would he know?

When she got to work, there was only her in the office. Em had asked for time off to be with her father, and Moira had a week’s holiday. Pearl thought about Jim all the time. It was easy without Moira’s interruptions.

Jim’s heart was in his mouth as he strode down West Ferry Road. He was going to see Pearl at last. He couldn’t wait. But he also had to call on his mum. The old girl had written and told him she wasn’t so good after food poisoning at Christmas.

With only two days’ leave, he had to see his mum first, as when he and Pearl were reunited, they wouldn’t be getting out of bed. When he finally arrived at Villa Road, he gave a hearty knock on the door. He had a key, but for the life of him couldn’t think where he’d left it. The door opened slowly.

‘Mum?’

‘Oh, son! Is that you?’

‘Course it’s me. Happy New Year.’ He went to walk in, lowering his kit bag to the floor. He swept off his cap with a proud flourish, but he didn’t get far before his mother began to stagger. He caught her in his arms and sat her slowly down on the stair.

‘Blimey, Mum, what’s up?’

‘My legs have gone.’

‘Must’ve been the sight of my ugly mug. Sit there and I’ll get you a drink.’

When he returned, she was waving a small black fan in front of her face.

‘Drink this.’

She held out a shaky hand. ‘Why didn’t you write you were coming?’

‘Thought I’d give you a surprise.’

‘Have you seen Pearl yet?’

‘No, I made a beeline here.’

She smiled. ‘You’re a good boy to put your mum first. Now help me into my chair.’

He helped her to the fire. It was full with big black nuggets. ‘So what’s been up then, Mum?’ he asked warily.

‘I had a bad attack on Christmas Day.’

‘What was wrong?’

‘I’ve got a delicate stomach and being all on my own—’

‘On your own? Wasn’t you with the Jenkinses?’

‘I didn’t like to trouble them.’

‘But it would have been no trouble. Pearl wrote she was having you over!’

His mother folded her hands together and sighed. ‘I know she has more than enough to do with her work and people of her own to see. I was quite happy here – and what’s Christmas, after all, without your nearest and dearest? You and your father meant everything to me and just the sight of you now makes up for all the loneliness.’

Jim undid the buttons of his tunic. He leaned back and tried to listen attentively. But he was out of the picture and seemed to have lost the gist of things. He was surprised Pearl hadn’t had his mother over for Christmas, though. The old girl needed a bit of cheering up and he would have thought a couple of hours at the Jenkinses wouldn’t have gone amiss.

‘Does Pearl visit you?’ he asked, wiping his sweating forehead with the coarse sleeve of his uniform.

‘Occasionally, dear. But I don’t want to put on her.’

‘What about your neighbour? Still come in, does she?’

‘You know how independent I am. Since your father went, I don’t like to be a burden to others. After all, they’ve got their own lives to lead.’ She coughed delicately and Jim leaned forward to pat her back. ‘Better up than down, eh?’

‘I’ve a weak constitution. But I do what I can for myself. The doctor is very good, but he’s got his patients to see.’

‘One good thing,’ began Jim earnestly, ‘there ain’t been no bombs gone off round here. All the houses are still standing.’

‘Yes, I’m grateful for small mercies. Now, you must be hungry. I’ll get you something to eat.’

‘No, I must get home.’

‘Just a small snack while you keep me company?’

‘Go on, then. Nothing fancy, mind.’

‘I’ve got a nice chop in the pantry. You’re in luck, dear, as I haven’t had one since before the war, and there’s no better person I’d like to cook it for.’

‘But, Mum—’

‘You’re welcome to it. I can’t tolerate meat at the moment. I eat very simply and don’t spend a lot on myself. Now, sit back and put your feet up. Here’s a newspaper. Your father used to enjoy the
Gazette.
You take after him in so many ways.’

Jim gave a resigned sigh. He wondered how long a chop took to cook. Taking off his jacket, he lifted his feet to the stool and picked up the paper. Lulled by the warmth and comfort of an easy chair, very soon he was asleep.

Pearl rushed into his arms. ‘Jim, oh, Jim, I can’t believe you’re home.’

‘Did you get my letter?’

‘Yes. And I couldn’t wait to get home from work today.’

‘Miss me, did you?’

‘You don’t need to ask that.’

‘Happy New Year, sweetheart.’

‘I am happy now. Come in, it’s freezing.’

Jim stamped his feet, blowing on his rough red fingers. ‘They say we’re gonna have snow.’

‘I’ve lit a fire. But it’s burned down as I thought you’d be here sooner.’

‘Don’t need a fire. You’re enough to keep me warm. Give us a cuddle, you little cracker.’

She ran into his arms, feeling the unfamiliar rough cloth of his army greatcoat under her touch. He smelled the same, though; he was still her Jim. She drew her fingers over his cold cheeks. ‘You’ve put on a bit of weight.’

‘I’m glad to say you haven’t.’

Pearl wriggled out of his grasp and turned round, showing off the suit she was wearing. It was a soft fawn, with pleats at the waist, and the jacket was lined. She’d bargained for half an hour at the market in an effort to purchase it, finally knocking the price down by half. New suits cost anything upwards of four pounds if they were good quality and she had been tempted to pay the full second-hand price of two guineas as it had very little wear. There was a small hole on the hem, easily hidden if you knew how, and so she’d got it for twenty-five bob.

‘Well, do you like it?’ she asked, batting her long eyelashes and making a pose.

‘I like it. But I like what’s in it, more.’

Pearl raised her eyebrows. ‘Are you hungry?’

‘You know the answer to that.’ He tore off his coat and threw it aside. In seconds they were kissing and falling against the door of the bedroom. Jim struggled with the buttons of her jacket. ‘Bloody Norah, how do these undo?’

Pearl didn’t care that her effort at a vegetable pie was wasted. It hadn’t looked very appetizing anyway. And she wasn’t bothered about the fire burning down. It was warmer in bed.

‘Pearly-girl, I’ve missed you,’ Jim growled passionately as she gripped his tough, strong shoulders and felt the muscles of his chest against her breasts.

‘And I’ve missed you.’

She decided that this was one compensation for being apart. And taking full advantage of it, they made love into the early hours until they both fell asleep from exhaustion.

Jim pulled on his trousers and tiptoed to the kitchen. Pearl was fast asleep and she looked lovely, her blonde hair spread out over the pillow, her white skin gleaming in the moonlight. Although his mum’s chop, roast potatoes and three veg had filled a very big hole, he was ravenous again. He might even find a beer in the larder. But though he searched, he found only Pearl’s usual: half a loaf, a tin of Spam and a bowl of wilted veg. There was, however, a small wedge of cheese, an absolute luxury and he dived on it, eating it whole with an onion. He demolished the lot, then sank a mug of tea. In the barracks they had rations of sugar, but of course, Pearl wouldn’t have thought of that. So he made do with a weak cup and powdered milk.

The fire had gone out in the living room, but the grey ashes still offered some warmth. He pulled his greatcoat round him and didn’t bother with a light, moving aside the blackout to see what the weather was doing. Jack Frost was drawing frosty fingers on the windowpane. A bit different to the mildness of last year, he thought as he padded back to the armchair. Making himself a roll-up he rested his feet on the wicker stool and inhaled the smoke deep into his lungs. Tomorrow was Saturday. Was Pearl at work? He hoped she’d got the morning off, but if not he’d busy himself with any jobs that needed doing.

Reaching out, he switched on the wireless. It was now positioned next to the armchair and he smiled. Pearl used to turn a deaf ear to the news. Now, however, it seemed as though she was cluing-up on world events.

A news bulletin began. The icy weather had helped the Soviet troops to push back the Germans in the Crimea. Manila had fallen to the Japanese and it looked like Borneo was next. The new head of Allied Forces in the south-west Pacific was Archibald Wavell, a Moniker sure to strike terror in the hearts of the enemy!

He sat up to listen, though, when a cut-glass accent talked of the newly reformed Eighth Army. A shiver went over him when he heard of a new Axis convoy of arms arriving at Tripoli. This could only mean one thing. The Desert Fox was preparing for El Alamein.

‘Jim?’

Pearl’s voice made him jump. ‘Blimey, you gave me a fright.’

‘I wondered where you’d gone.’

He switched off the wireless. ‘Come and sit on me lap.’

She snuggled in close, wearing only her knickers. As he drew his coat around her, she kissed him and touched him and that was it. He had no control whatsoever when she was around and he found himself making love to her again.

They found time to eat, then made love again. Jim thought how lucky he was to have a wife who felt as eager as he did for sex. When they ended up on the floor in a heap, they began laughing.

‘I prefer the bed.’

‘So do I.’

He rolled over and scrambled to his feet. Wrapping his coat round her, he carried her back. Ten minutes later they were lying side by side, staring up at the moon. Pearl twisted her dainty fingers through his.

‘I feel greedy having you all to myself.’

‘I like greedy girls.’

She giggled. ‘You’d better only like one.’

‘You know how I feel about you,’ he murmured.

‘When are you going back?’

‘Sunday. I’ve got to report back by tea time.’

‘You won’t get posted straight away, will you?’ she asked in alarm.

‘It won’t be long, I think.’

She threaded her arm around his waist. ‘I’m not going to work in the morning. Let’s stay in bed all day. I can pop down to Hemsley’s for something to eat.’

‘That’d be nice.’

‘P’raps you can see your mum next time.’

‘Don’t worry, I called in today.’ Jim knew instantly he’d said the wrong thing.

‘You’ve seen her already?’

‘On me way here. Thought I’d get it over quick.’

‘How long was quick?’

‘I just said hello.’

Pearl pushed him away. ‘That’s why you were late.’

‘I thought it would be best.’

‘I bet she told you I never go over.’

‘She didn’t at all.’

‘I got off work especially early. And I made a bloody pie as well.’

He tried to take hold of her but she threw back the covers. He was on the point of bringing up Christmas and his old girl being left alone, but he thought better of it. It had upset him, though, to think of his mum wandering round an empty house on Christmas Day. He was surprised at Pearl. She could have put herself out a bit more to see that his mum had company.

Jim sighed as he lay alone. Why had even mentioned about going to Vale Road? Well, he had to, ’cos she’d have found out anyway from his mum. He’d leave her to cool off for a minute and have a fag. Climbing out of bed, he pulled the blackout curtains and switched on the light. Making a roll-up, he went into the other room to smoke it. Why did they always argue over his old girl? Granted, she was a bit difficult at times. But she wasn’t a dragon, even though Pearl sometimes made her out to be.

On Sunday morning when it was time for Jim to go, Pearl wished they had spent more of their time making love rather than arguing. She sat at the kitchen table watching the husband she loved so much and wondered why Mrs Nesbitt felt such a thorn in her side. But Jim should have come home first. His mum only warranted an hour. Now they were to be separated again.

‘Come on, love, buck up,’ said Jim, speaking out of the side of his mouth. Carefully he used his cutthroat razor. ‘It’s a freezing cold day but look, the old currant bun is shining. We’re alive and breathing, and we’ve got each other.’