Goodnight Sweetheart (27 page)

‘Aye, I’d better be getting back, an’ all,’ Elsie agreed. ‘My two will be coming in wanting their teas any minute.’

Molly could see how desperate everyone was to leave the uncomfortable atmosphere of the house, but there was something she had to say to Elsie, so she went to the door with her, pulling it to behind them, and then saying quickly, ‘Elsie, I know how it must look, with Johnny coming round and going on like he did …’

Elsie shook her head. ‘There’s no need for you to go explaining anything to me, Molly. I’ve got eyes in me head and I could see plain enough that you was head over heels in love with our Eddie and him with you. Eddie was me nephew, and what happened to him were a cruel thing, but you’re as close to me as a daughter, Molly. Nothing can bring our Eddie back, and the last thing he would want is for you to spend the rest of your life grieving for him. I know you’ll allus hold a special place in your heart for him, Molly, an’ there’s nothing wrong in you goin’ out and havin’ a bit o’ fun.’

‘Oh, Elsie …’ Tears of relief and gratitude filled Molly’s eyes.

‘There, lass,’ Elsie comforted her, putting her arms around her and giving her a hug.

‘June, what’s wrong?’ Molly asked her sister worriedly.

‘I’m sure I do not know what you mean,’ June responded, scowling.

‘Yes, you do,’ Molly persisted. ‘I’m talking about the way you’ve bin with poor Frank, and—’

‘Oh, so it’s “poor” Frank now, is it? Well, I should have known as how you’d side with him. You’ve allus had a bit of a soft spot for him, aye, and so has he for you.’

‘It isn’t anything to do with that,’ Molly denied. ‘It’s you I’m worried about. You’ve bin proper nasty with your Frank ever since he came home. Why didn’t you go back to his mam’s with him?’

‘Back? I’m not going round there and having her tell me how to bring up me own baby. No, thank you.’

‘So where are you and Frank going to be sleeping then whilst he’s home on leave?’ Molly challenged her.

‘Frank can sleep where he likes. I’m staying here. He’s got two choices – either he can go to his mam’s or he can sleep on the settee in the front room here, like he did last night.’

Molly tried not to show how disturbed she was by June’s remarks. Admittedly she wasn’t married with a young baby but she would have thought that after such a long period of absence June would be eager to have her husband home on leave, instead of behaving as though she resented him being here.

‘I thought he must have gone to his mam’s after I saw him really early this morning – that he’d only just returned. You never made him sleep on that, June?’ Molly protested. ‘Not after what he’s bin through with Dunkirk.’

‘And what about me? What about what I’ve bin
through? I thought I were goin’ to die in that air-raid shelter, when I was having Elizabeth Rose. Frank can sleep where he likes, but I’m staying put here in me own bed.’

‘June, Frank is your
husband
. I know that whilst he’s bin away you and me have bin sharing our old room, but now that he’s home on leave …’

June looked at her defiantly. ‘Now that he’s home on leave what?’

This wasn’t the June Molly thought she knew, and it certainly wasn’t the June who had returned from honeymoon so happily excited about being married to Frank. ‘I thought you said that it had bin decided that when Frank came home on leave you’d move back into Frank’s old room at his mam’s.’

‘And what’s that going to do to Elizabeth Rose? I don’t want to go unsettling her by carting her off to Frank’s mam’s and making her sleep in a strange room.’ June looked aggrieved.

‘Lillibet’s only tiny – she won’t even notice the change,’ Molly replied. ‘Besides, Doris is her grandmother – the only one she has.’

‘Yes, and I am her mother. And I’ll thank you not to call her Lillibet. How many times do I have to tell you, our Molly, that Dr Truby says you ’ave to call baby by her proper name?’

‘Well, if Lillibet is good enough for the Queen …’ Molly responded promptly, immediately wishing she hadn’t when she saw June’s scowl. ‘Look, June, don’t let’s fall out,’ she begged
her. ‘Listen, why don’t I ask Sally if I can stay with her whilst Frank’s on leave and then you and him can share our room. I know it’s only got single beds, but—’

‘What, and have
him
coming in waking up baby at all hours, instead of you?’ June gave a dismissive shrug. ‘No thanks!’

What had happened to the giggling girl who had blushed and laughed as she had talked about the honeymoon she and Frank had spent in Blackpool, Molly wondered unhappily. She was sure that in her sister’s shoes she would have been only too eager to be with her husband. But, unlike June, she did not have a baby to think about, she reminded herself, careful not to be critical of her sister. Even so, she couldn’t help reminding her gently, ‘Only last week you were saying how much you wanted Frank to come home.’

‘I wanted him to be here for the christening, yes,’ June snapped. ‘But I don’t want—’ She broke off as the back door opened and their father came in. He was carrying a copy of the
Liverpool Echo
under his arm.

‘Eeh, lass,’ was all he said as he looked at Molly, shaking his head sadly. ‘The
Echo
says there was over three hundred killed at Durning Road last night.’

Molly said nothing. How could she when she was thinking it was surprising the death toll had not been higher?

‘Ruddy German bombers!’ It was so unlike her
father to swear, but she could understand why he had done so. Who could have been there last night, seen and heard what the rescuers had seen and heard, held the lifeless but still warm bodies of young children in their arms and not felt like damning the people who could commit such an atrocity?

‘I can’t pretend I wasn’t lying in me bed worrying about you last night, lass,’ her father said quietly. ‘When we was in the shelter we heard them bombers coming over and I ’ad a feeling it were going to be a bad night. Then we heard the bombs going off and, of course, Pearl Lawson’s George had to start piping up they was close, as if the rest of us couldn’t hear that just as good as he could,’ Albert snorted derisively. ‘Some folk don’t know how to handle themselves in a crisis, I tell you. Women and young kiddies in that shelter, there was – he should have been keeping his gloomy thoughts to himself.’

‘Well, you won’t get me going in one of them shelters again,’ June broke in vehemently. ‘Not after what happened to them at Durning Road. Me and Elizabeth Rose are going to be staying right here.’

Molly was horrified. She knew how much her sister disliked going into the shelter but this was the first time June had voiced an outright future refusal to do so.

‘June, you can’t mean that,’ she protested. ‘It wouldn’t be safe for you to stay here.’

‘Well, you would say that, wouldn’t you, on account of your working for the emergency services, but I’ve heard that there’s plenty of people staying in their homes. Under the stairs is where I’m going to be in future, and that’s that.’

Molly and her father exchanged anxious glances, but Molly knew from her father’s small shake of the head that, like her, he knew it was pointless trying to argue with June in her present mood. The old sharp-tongued June, whom Molly had thought softened with her marriage to Frank, was back with a vengeance.

‘Where’s Frank?’ Albert asked.

‘He’s gone round to his mam’s, Dad,’ Molly answered when June didn’t do so.

‘Tell you what, June,’ their father offered warmly, ‘why don’t you go upstairs and change into sommat pretty and get your Frank to tek you out dancing or to the pictures? Do you the power of good, it will. And me and Molly will look after little Libby for yer.’

‘Power of good! Get meself bombed, more like. No,’ June shook her head, ‘I’m not goin’ anywhere. I’m staying right here with my little precious.’ Only now did her face soften as she looked down at her baby.

‘You go and get cleaned up, Dad, and I’ll make a start with the tea,’ Molly offered. ‘What is it we’re having tonight, June?’

With both their father and Molly working full time, and Molly doing voluntary emergency work
and her WVS work as well, June had taken over all the domestic chores, including the cooking and most of the shopping. The increasingly long queues brought about by the rationing meant that buying food, even when it was on ration and available, took a long time.

‘I was going to make some Spam fritters, but what with you keeping me awake most of last night, and then Frank getting baby upset, I never did them. There’s a bit of that soup left, though.’

‘You have that, Dad,’ Molly smiled at their father. ‘It’s WVS later and I can probably get a bit of sommat there.’

‘A nice juicy meat pie, that’s what I fancy,’ June murmured tiredly.

‘Aye, well, you’ll not be getting one of those until this war’s over,’ their father prophesied grimly.

‘War, war, war – that’s all anyone ever talks about,’ June exploded. ‘Well, I’m sick of it. If it’s not Jerry bombers and them air-raid sirens, it’s them ack-ack guns.’

Molly looked over to her father’s chair, where he had left the paper. The grainy photographs on the front page didn’t reflect the full horror of last night, but what they did show was enough to reawaken the feelings of helplessness and despair she had felt as she listened to the cries for help and screams of pain coming from those trapped underground. June didn’t know how lucky she was.

One woman had gone into the shelter with five children and had lost all but one of them. Molly knew she would never forget the sight of her sitting there in complete silence after she had been rescued, staring numbly at the bodies of her children.

Another mother had screamed and gone on screaming, refusing to accept that the small bundle the rescuers had removed from her arms was dead.

‘Poor little sod’s head was smashed in,’ Molly had overheard one of the other men telling Johnny, ‘but we covered it up so she couldn’t see.’

Amongst those who had survived there had been some horrific injuries, dreadful burns from the blast and the boiling water, a man whose leg had had to be amputated in order for them to remove him from the wreckage; a woman whose arm had been so badly mangled Molly had felt sick when she saw it, not even recognising what it was at first.

There had been so many bombs now and so many deaths, but this had shocked Molly more than all the others put together. But she couldn’t say anything – not to her dad, who she knew was worrying already about her being hurt in the course of her voluntary work; and certainly not to June, who thought only of herself and Lillibet. Not that Molly could truly blame her sister. It was only natural that she should want to protect her baby. Molly couldn’t help wondering if the loss of their own mother might be preying on her mind now June had a child of her own.

She could have told Frank, though, and he would have understood. Molly looked towards the back door. Frank was June’s husband, even if June herself no longer seemed to want him, nor seemed to realise how lucky she was to have a man like Frank. Molly would have given anything to have her own Eddie back and to know he was safe. He was never far from her thoughts, even if her pain was easier to bear.

‘What’s up, Molly? You’ve hardly said a word all morning,’ Irene chivvied.

‘Leave her alone, Irene,’ Ruby defended her. ‘It was only t’other night that she was down helping them bombed at Durning Road. Our Hilda told me she’d seen you there,’ Ruby explained. ‘Said as how you and the others were proper heroes, that them as hadn’t got no shovels nor nothing was digging into the wreckage with their bare hands. Over three hundred gone and more dying every day in hospital from their wounds is what I’ve heard,’ she added almost ghoulishly.

‘Put a sock in it, will yer, Rube?’ Irene demanded, nodding in the direction of one of the new workers, a pale-faced girl who was working away with her back to them. ‘Lily there’s sister were in that shelter. Up at Mill Road she is now, and in a right bad way,’ Irene added in a low voice. ‘Carryin’, she was, but she’s lost the baby.’

Everyone made sympathetic noises and eyed the girl’s ramrod-straight back.

‘It’s your June’s little ’un’s christening this Sunday, isn’t it, Molly?’ Irene changed the subject. ‘I’d heard as how her Frank’s back on leave, an’ all. She must be right pleased about that.’

Was Irene merely making idle conversation or had she heard about June’s refusal to move into Frank’s old room at his mother’s whilst Frank was home on leave? Gossip spread fast in their area, never more so than in wartime. Knowing Irene, and how she always managed to have all the latest gossip, Molly would have been surprised if she
hadn’t
somehow got wind of what had happened.

‘Well, I believe in doing me best by my own kiddies,’ Molly could hear Daisy announcing virtuously as she stood with several other women from the close who had come to the church to witness Elizabeth Rose’s christening, ‘but there’s times when it’s your ’ubby you has to think about, and if you ask me, sending him to stay on his own at his mam’s when he’s just come home from fighting on the front line, then … oh, I didn’t see you there, Molly,’ she stammered, embarrassed.

Molly didn’t say anything. What could she say to defend her sister, when her own feelings were so similar to the ones Daisy had just been so vigorously stating?

Unwillingly Molly started to make her way to June’s side. Her sister had been snappy with
everyone these last few days, but Molly felt that she had been singled out for some of her sharpest criticisms. Although not as many as she flung at poor Frank.

Molly could hear June’s voice now, raised and angry, as she demanded, ‘No, Frank, you’re not holding her right. Give her to me.’

‘Leave him be, June,’ Uncle Joe told her. ‘Poor lad’s only doing his best. It ain’t his fault if he don’t know one end of a baby from t’other,’ Joe joked, causing everyone around them to laugh and June’s face to become red with increased anger.

‘It’s all right for you to go making a joke about it, but it’s me as has got to get Elizabeth Rose sorted out when he’s bin and gone and upset her. Scared to death of him, she is …’

‘Scared to death of Frank or sick to death of the sound of June’s voice?’ Molly heard John Fowler mutter to Elsie. ‘I know I would be.’

‘Oh, there you are,’ June greeted Molly sharply when Molly had made her way to her side through the crowd outside the church. ‘I want to get back to the house. It’s nearly time for Elizabeth Rose’s feed.’

‘Mam hasn’t had a chance to hold Libby yet, June,’ Frank protested.

‘Didn’t you hear me, cloth ears? I’ve just said it’s time for her feed, and if I’ve told you once I’ve told you a hundred times, her name is Elizabeth Rose and not Libby.’

‘That bloody book,’ Frank suddenly swore, his
normally soft voice hardening. ‘It wants throwing out and—’

‘You’ll not touch my book, and if anything wants throwing out of the house, then it’s you, Frank Brookes,’ June told him fiercely, spinning round on her heel, clutching Elizabeth Rose to her as she started to hurry towards the church gate.

Elsie, who was standing next to Molly watching her, shook her head. ‘Eeh, Molly, you don’t know how much I wish now I hadn’t brought June that book wot Mrs Simpkins was throwing out.’

‘It’s not your fault, Elsie,’ Molly quickly reassured her, and indeed Molly genuinely believed that that was the truth, even if June was driving everyone up the wall with her determination to follow Dr Truby King’s instructions on how to bring up a baby.

‘I don’t know what’s come over your June, turning on poor Frank like that,’ Elsie continued. ‘She doesn’t know how lucky she is to have him – aye, and in one piece, an’ all.’ They exchanged sorrowful smiles, thinking of Eddie.

Molly wished she was brave enough to say something to June about what was going on, but she didn’t want to risk having her sister fall out with her. Perhaps if she were to have a word with Sally, she might speak to June. They weren’t as close as they had been, but surely as a new mother June would be more inclined to listen to Sally than she would to her unmarried and childless younger sister. Her mind made up, Molly waited until Sally
was on her own with her two children before hurrying over to her.

‘What’s up with your June, Molly?’ Sally demanded, echoing Elsie’s comments. ‘She’s done nowt but get at poor Frank since the moment he came home.’

‘I don’t know. In fact, I was just about to ask you if you would have a word with her and see if you can find out what’s wrong with her,’ Molly admitted.

‘It wouldn’t do any good,’ Sally said. ‘I’ve already had a bit of a fall-out wi’ her over the way she’s bin. Catch me getting away wi’ treating my Ronnie the way she’s done her Frank! But then Frank has always bin a bit of a softie. But he is still a man, for all that, Molly, and a good-looking one, an’ all. And I can tell you now, there’ll be plenty of lasses willing to keep him company and give him what your June is refusing him, and you mark my words, she’ll end up finding that out the hard way if she doesn’t watch out.’

‘Frank would never do anything like that,’ Molly protested, genuinely shocked at Sally’s words.

‘He’s a man,’ Sally insisted, ‘with a man’s needs,’ she emphasised pointedly. ‘I’ve seen them down at the dance hall when I’m working there, Molly: men who are hungry for a bit of female company and a smile. I must admit, though, I never thought your June would be one of them women wot
changes the moment she gets a wedding ring on her finger.’

‘She isn’t,’ Molly defended her sister. ‘It’s only since she’s had Elizabeth Rose that she’s bin like this. I think she’s worrying about something and not wanting to say anything.’

Sally’s expression softened slightly. ‘You’re a good sister to her, Molly, and happen you’ve got a point. It upset her real bad, her giving birth in that ruddy shelter like that. But that’s no reason to go round being right nasty to folk. She really snapped my head off the other day when I told her that if I was her I wouldn’t keep on waking Libby up to feed her just because some ruddy book said I had to. As good as told me I weren’t a good mother, she did,’ Sally continued indignantly.

‘I’m sure she didn’t mean that, Sally,’ Molly tried to calm her.

‘Mebbe not, but she’s got a few backs up in the close, I can tell you. If she doesn’t watch out she’s not going to have any friends left,’ Sally warned.

‘Just listen to that lot in there,’ Molly laughed, jerking her head in the direction of the parlour whilst she finished washing up the tea cups, sherry glasses and sandwich plates their family and neighbours had used.

‘It’s a pity you encouraged them to come back, if you ask me, Molly. And our Uncle Joe’s the worst of the lot,’ June grumbled. ‘Haven’t they got
any homes to go to? I had to wake Elizabeth Rose to give her her feed, and now with all this racket going on I’m never going to get her off again, she’s that grizzly.’

Molly took a deep breath and turned round to face her sister. It was now or never.

‘I know it’s none of my business, June,’ she began hesitantly whilst June stiffened and watched her warily, ‘but there was a few saying at the church today how tired you was looking.’ Molly was trying her best to be tactful. ‘And I was just thinking,’ she hesitated and then plunged on desperately, ‘well, what I mean is, June, when Libby – I mean Elizabeth Rose – is sleepin’, do you really have to wake her up to feed her? Only it seems to me that if you were to just let her sleep and then—’

‘It’s Frank’s mam who’s put you up to this, isn’t it?’ June interrupted angrily. ‘I saw how the two of you was thick as thieves before we went into the church. Well, you’re right about one thing, Molly: it isn’t any of your business – nor hers neither.’

Molly fervently wished she hadn’t started this conversation but since she had, she’d better have her say.

‘But, June, the poor little thing looks so tired sometimes, and I’ve seen her falling asleep whilst you’re trying to give her her bottle, and then she wakes up in the night …’

‘Oh, I get it now. It isn’t me you’re worried
about but yourself. Well, I’m sorry if you don’t want us here—’

‘June, that’s not true. I
do
want you here,’ Molly interjected.

‘So what are you complaining for then?’

‘Well, it’s just that people have bin saying … that is, they’ve been asking … well, it’s this routine of yours, June. Even Elsie said today that she wished she hadn’t given you that book.’

‘Let them say what they like. I don’t care,’ June told her defiantly.

Molly took a deep breath. She had come this far – she must continue otherwise her sister’s marriage, not to mention her friendships and sanity, would be in jeopardy.

‘It isn’t just that, June. People have been talking about you and Frank and saying things.’

‘What kind of things?’

Why on earth had she started this, Molly wondered uncomfortably. Here they were with a houseful of visitors who could walk into the kitchen at any time, and June looking like she was about to murder her.

‘Well, they’ve seen how your Frank’s bin staying at his mam’s whilst you’re sleeping here,’ Molly told her. ‘Why don’t you go back with him tonight, June? Ten to one Libby won’t wake up now until morning and you can leave her here with me if you want, or put her in her pram and take her with you.’

‘I’m not going anywhere and neither is she. Oh,
Molly, please don’t go on at me. I’ve got enough to cope with, what with Elizabeth Rose.’ To Molly’s dismay June suddenly burst into tears.

‘Oh, June, don’t,’ Molly begged her, hurrying to comfort her. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you. Please don’t cry.’

‘I can’t help it, Molly. I keep thinking about the bombs and being trapped in the shelter like they was in Durning Road. If anything was to happen to Elizabeth Rose …’

‘Nothing is going to happen to her,’ Molly tried to reassure her, handing June her own clean handkerchief so that she could dry her tears. ‘You mustn’t get yourself upset like this, June.’

‘I can’t help it,’ June repeated. ‘Everything’s getting on top of me, what with this war, and I worry that much.’ June sniffed. ‘Oh, Molly, what’s to become of us all?’

‘The war will soon be over, June,’ Molly told her firmly. ‘You just wait and see.’

A small smile touched June’s mouth. ‘Just listen to you. Anyone would think as you was my big sister and not the other way round.’

‘’Ere, Molly, is all that beer gone? Oh …’ Their Uncle Joe stood in the doorway looking from Molly’s face to June’s, but to Molly’s relief, before he could say anything, they all heard the thin wail coming from the room upstairs.

‘Oh, there’s Elizabeth Rose crying again,’ June sighed. ‘I’d better go up to her.’

‘It’s nearly midnight, Frank,’ Molly said gently. The others had all gone home long ago, and Albert, like June, had gone up to bed over an hour ago. Molly had stayed downstairs to finish cleaning up.

‘Come on, let me give you a hand finishing up wi’ this lot first,’ Frank insisted, rolling up his sleeves.

‘There’s no call for you to do that,’ Molly said. ‘I’m finished now anyway. At least it doesn’t look as though we’re going to have Hitler’s bombers coming over tonight. They’re normally here by now. Mind you, I wasn’t really expecting them tonight. They seem to come every other night. Not that it’s a good idea to rely on that. Jerry likes to try to catch us out, if he can.’

Frank gave her a thoughtful look and Molly knew that he wasn’t deceived by her pretence at needing to stay up to tidy up, and that he understood she was still downstairs in case she was called out to help with an emergency.

‘You’re as bad as me mam, you are – allus worrying about other folk more than you do yourself,’ Frank chided her gently.

‘Well, if they had come over, I’d have been able to help June get into the shelter, with Libby.’

‘I was hoping June might come back down. I wanted to talk to her,’ Frank told her.

‘She’s probably asleep now, but you can go up and see,’ Molly offered, feeling sorry for him. Far from recuperating at home after his ordeal at the
front, he looked even more broken and defeated than when he’d first come back.

‘I’d better not do that. I’d probably wake the baby up and then I’d be in worse trouble than I am already.’

‘You know June only worries about keeping her to her routine on account of this book she’s been reading. She’s trying to be the perfect mother and it’s taking its toll on her, especially at such a time.’ Molly felt honour-bound to defend her sister.

‘Aye, I know. Showed it to me, she did, and said as how I were making her do things all wrong, what with wanting to pick up our Libby. By, but she’s a bonny baby, Molly,’ Frank beamed proudly. ‘Pretty as a picture wi’ them dark curls.’

Molly couldn’t help but smile in agreement. Her niece was the most beautiful baby she’d ever seen – she was happy to admit it. ‘Dad says that she’s got a real look of our mam,’ she told him.

‘That’s funny,
my
mam says she’s got me dad’s curls,’ Frank told her straight-faced, but when Molly looked at him she could see the laughter gleaming in his eyes. He had always had a good sense of humour, had Frank. ‘Not that I’m getting to see much of her,’ Frank added, his smile fading. ‘Every time I go near her June complains about sommat or other.’