When Wishes Come True (12 page)

Read When Wishes Come True Online

Authors: Joan Jonker

BOOK: When Wishes Come True
11.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Her brother pulled on her arm. ‘Me mam made us a bit late, but it’s you what’s making us very late. Shut up and come on, otherwise the school gates will be closed by the time we get there.’ As he dragged his sister down the street, he turned his head and appealed to Rita, ‘Why do girls and women talk so much? They’ll have the last word if it kills them.’

‘You’re a fine one to talk,’ Kitty growled, trying to tug her arm free. ‘When ye’re out with yer mates, it’s always your mouth what’s going fifteen to the dozen.’

When Aggie let out a roar and pretended to run after them, shaking her fist in the air, her two children ran hell for leather. But they were both laughing, for they loved the bones of their mother who was warm, loving, and very funny. There was never a dull moment in their house for she never ran out of funny tales. Most of them she made up, but that didn’t matter if it made them laugh. ‘See yer tonight, Mam,’ they both shouted, waving their hands over their head.

‘God love them,’ Aggie said, ‘if they get the cane for being late, it’s not because they overslept. It was the ruddy alarm clock, it’s away to hell. I’ll have to see if Sam can fix it tonight ’cos I can’t afford to buy a new one.’

‘I can always give yer a knock on the wall,’ Rita told her. ‘Our alarm clock has never let us down.’ She crossed two fingers. ‘It’s bad luck to speak too soon, so forget I said that. But I’ll give yer a knock, if yer want.’

‘I’ll wait and see if Sam can fix the clock. If he can’t, I’ll let yer know.’ Aggie folded her arms which disappeared under her mountainous breasts. ‘Ay, her over the road, Tilly Mint, she was out early this morning. I don’t know what the time was, what with the bleeding alarm letting us down, but it can’t have been more than eight o’clock, ten-past at the latest. That’s early for her. And when the girl came out later, I felt sorry for the poor lass, she had a hell of a job closing the door. She tried pulling it with her two hands in the letter box but that was no good. Then she stood on tip-toe to reach the knocker and that failed. I’d have gone out to her if I hadn’t been at sixes and sevens, trying to make the kids some toast before they went to school. I wouldn’t let them go out on an empty tummy.’ The bosom was hitched up higher. ‘Anyway, Mr Bleasedale from the top of the street gave the door a good bang for her.’

‘Aggie, I’ve got something to tell yer,’ Rita said, ‘although I really shouldn’t.’

‘Then leave it until later, eh, queen? There’s half a pot of tea on me table, and I want to drink it before it gets cold. I can’t afford to throw good tea away.’

‘It’s to do with Mrs Sinclair, and I thought yer’d be interested. So when yer find out, don’t call me a dark horse for not letting on.’

It didn’t take long for Aggie to decide, and she decided she didn’t want to miss her pot of tea
or
the news her neighbour had. So she grabbed Rita’s arm and pulled her up the steps. ‘I think there’s enough tea in the pot for two cups. And that way I’ve got the best of both worlds.’

‘I suppose yer know ye’re nearly pulled me arm out of its socket?’ Rita bent over and then straightened the arm in question. ‘The trouble with you, Aggie Gordon, is yer don’t know yer own strength. Yer’d make a ruddy good prize-fighter.’

Aggie wasn’t even listening, she was too busy laughing at what she had in mind. Opening a door in the sideboard, she brought out a china cup and saucer, and with a flourish put them down in front of Rita. Once she saw her good china was out of harm’s way, she began to shake with laughter. ‘Nobody has ever drunk out of that cup before, I’ve treasured it for the last ten years. But I suddenly had a flash, like lightning, of Her Ladyship’s face. She was looking down her nose at someone as though they were the lowest of the low. And I thought that’s how she’d look if yer were pulling her to pieces while drinking out of a mug what had dozens of cracks and chips in it. So tell me what the news is, and because of the dainty cup and saucer, I expect yer to speak proper posh.’

‘How long did yer say yer’d had this cup and saucer, sunshine?’

‘Ooh, easy ten years, maybe a bit more. It’s the first and only time I’ve ever had anything so delicate, and I wouldn’t use it in case it got broke.’

‘And have yer ever washed it in all those years?’

‘Of course I haven’t. I’ve been frightened to touch the bleeding thing, never mind wash it. And you’d better be careful ’cos I’m never likely to get anything else so fragile and dainty.’

‘Oh, I won’t have to worry about being careful, sunshine, ’cos I’ve no intention of drinking out of a cup that hasn’t been washed in ten years. It’s probably thick with dust, and has had creepy-crawlies walking all over it.’

‘Ay, ye’re not half a fussy blighter, Rita Wells.’ Aggie was laughing inside as she picked up the delicate white china cup that was decorated with tiny pink flowers. ‘I’ll give it a rub with me pinny if that makes yer feel better.’

Rita gasped. ‘What! I’d rather take a chance on the creepy-crawlies than your pinny. God knows what yer’ve spilt on it, let alone wiping yer hands down it after yer’ve cleaned the grate out and scrubbed the step. So I certainly ain’t going to drink out of a cup that yer’ve wiped on that filthy pinny, I’m too young to die. Put the flaming thing back where it’s been for the last ten years and get me a mug with chips and cracks in.’

The cup and saucer were put back in the dark depths of the sideboard, and probably wouldn’t see daylight again for another ten years. ‘Fussy bugger, that’s what yer are. And just because ye’re afraid of creepy-crawlies, and yer’ve kept on about it for the last ten minutes, the ruddy tea in the pot is stone cold now. So whatever it is yer have to tell me, queen, after all that, it had better be good.’

Rita suddenly remembered she’d left her front door wide open. ‘You put the kettle on and boil enough water to warm the tea up, while I go and close me front door. I haven’t got anything worth pinching, but what’s mine is mine and I don’t want no one else having it.’

She was back within seconds and Aggie was just carrying the kettle through. ‘I only put enough water in to cover the bottom but the tea will be weak. So long as it’s wet and warm I don’t care, it’s better than a slap in the face.’ She put milk in the mugs, poured the tea out and then plonked herself down heavily on a wooden dining chair. ‘Well, go on, queen, tell me what all the mystery is about? Make it as interesting as yer can so it’ll give me something to think about all day while I’m doing me housework and then when we’re out shopping.’

‘I’m afraid there’s no mystery about it, sunshine, but I believe yer will find it interesting. And it’s for your ears only. Is that understood?’ Rita waited for her friend’s reluctant nod for Aggie was hopeless at keeping things to herself. ‘It’s about Mrs Sinclair – she’s got another job and it’s full-time. That’s why she was going out early.’

‘Oh, aye, what sort of a job is that, then? How come she can get a job and half the men in the street are out of work? And it’s not for the want of trying. They’re out at the crack of dawn down to the docks, hoping to get a day’s work in.’

‘She’s been promoted to private secretary to one of the big nobs at the office she works in.’ Rita could see that didn’t go down well with her mate, who couldn’t stand Mrs Sinclair. ‘And if yer start making fun of her, I won’t tell yer any more.’

Aggie put a hand to her mouth and muttered behind it, ‘I promise I won’t laugh, girl, at least not until yer’ve gone. Then I’ll laugh me bloody head off. She was a snob before, so what’s she going to be like now? Will she expect us to curtsey to her and pull our forelock?’ Her eyes narrowed to slits. ‘How do you know all this anyway?’

‘She asked Bessie if she’d mind Amelia for two hours each night, ’cos working full-time she won’t be home until after six.’

‘Bessie didn’t agree, did she?’ Aggie tutted when she saw Rita nod. ‘She wants her bleeding bumps feeling! She does all the hard work while Miss Hoity-Toity walks around as though she owns the place? I know what I’d have done, I’d have told her to get lost and then thrown her out.’

‘Oh, and would yer have thrown young Amelia out as well?’

‘Of course I wouldn’t, she’s only a kid. Yer can’t blame her for having a stuck-up madam for a mother. I feel heartily sorry for the poor blighter.’

‘So does Bessie, and that’s the only reason she’s agreed to mind her. She really loves that kid, and she’s not half looking forward to having her for those two hours. Don’t forget, Bessie hasn’t got no family. She’ll show that girl more love than her own mother does. Already she’s talking about playing Snakes and Ladders and Ludo, and taking her to the park so she can have a go on the swings. That will have to be kept quiet, though, ’cos the queer one doesn’t like the girl to play with the children round here. As yer say, Aggie, she’s a bloody snob, but that doesn’t mean we have to take it out on young Amelia whose life is miserable anyway.’ Rita knew how to bring her friend round to her way of thinking. ‘Anyway, I told Bessie I’d give her all the help I can, ’cos I’ve felt really sorry for the poor mite since the day they moved in across the street. That will be my good deed, and I’m sure God will chalk it up to me.’

‘Ye’re a crafty sod, Rita Wells, yer must think I’m as thick as two short planks. I’m supposed to say now that I’ll be delighted to help, aren’t I? Just so I’ll get in His good books up in heaven.’ Aggie pressed her thumbs into the fat around her elbows, leaving deep hollows. ‘The way I look at it, we’ve lived next door to each other in this street for about fourteen years or thereabouts and never really had a falling out. So what I say is, if yer’ve got good neighbours then hang on to them. Which boils down to me saying I’ll help with the young girl, as long as I don’t have to get involved with her mother, ’cos I know that sooner or later I’d end up flopping her one. Yer can tell Bessie I’m here if she wants me, and yer can also tell her I’ll keep me gob shut. And now that little matter is settled to our mutual satisfaction, can I ask if yer have any influence in heaven?’

‘No more than anyone else, sunshine, I just do the best I can in life. The only sin I ever commit is telling a little white lie, and I’m sure I won’t have that held against me. I believe God is very fair-minded.’

Aggie wrinkled her nose and swung her head from side to side, her chubby cheeks wobbling. ‘It doesn’t sound very promising, that, girl, ’cos it means yer can’t put in a good word for me. What yer
could
do for me, and it won’t cost yer nothing only a little breath, yer could casually bring my name up in yer prayers each night. That way He would get to know me.’

‘Why don’t yer say what yer want to in yer own prayers each night? It would be in your favour to do it personally.’ Rita saw a blush spread across Aggie’s face. ‘Aggie Gordon, yer don’t say any prayers, do yer? Well, shame on yer, that’s all I can say.’

‘I do say prayers, queen, cross my heart and hope to die. It’s just not every night, like what you do.’ Aggie put on the woebegone expression which to her friend was a sign that excuses were on the way. ‘Yer see, I’m so worn out by the time me head hits the pillow, I’m fast asleep before I know what’s happening. It’s hard going looking after a husband and two children, and doing the washing, ironing, cooking and shopping. I never seem to have a minute to meself.’

Rita tutted. ‘It’s no good moaning to me ’cos yer won’t get any sympathy. Yer seem to forget I’ve got a husband and two kids, the same as you!’

Aggie injected a whine into her voice, which she was very good at and did for fun. ‘Well it’s like this, yer see, queen. You don’t moan, so how can anyone give yer sympathy if they don’t feel sorry for yer? Me now, I can put on a miserable face and a crying voice, and before yer can say Jack Robinson, folk are asking what they can do to help. Yer should try it, ’cos it never fails for me.’

Rita knew this was a load of rubbish, and thought she’d throw in some of her own to even things out. ‘And you’re daft enough to think people like yer and feel really sorry for the hard-done-by Aggie Gordon? That only shows how stupid yer are! Yer should hear what they’re saying behind yer back. Calling yer fit to burn, they are.’

‘Ye’re only making that up, Rita Wells, ’cos yer know the neighbours like me more than they do you, and ye’re jealous. And there’s nothing worse than jealousy. I can’t help it if I’m more popular than you are.’

Rita looked at the clock. Another five minutes of this comedy and then she’d better be on her way and get some housework done. But she’d make good use of the five minutes, she couldn’t let her mate get the better of her. ‘Yer live in a dream world, Aggie, a little world of yer own. If yer’d heard what Mrs Sloane said about yer in the butcher’s last Thursday, it would have brought yer down to earth. Her and Mrs Johnson called yer for everything.’ Rita spread her hands. ‘I stuck up for yer though, sunshine, ’cos I couldn’t stand there and let them pull me best mate to pieces.’

Aggie’s arms appeared like magic from beneath her bosom to press upon the table. ‘When did yer say this was, queen?’

‘It was last Thursday morning, about half-eleven. I’m so sure of the day and time, ’cos I remember wondering how I was going to manage two days on the tanner I had in me purse.’

‘Oh, yeah, I remember that now, ’cos I had a penny more than you did!’ Aggie rubbed two fingers on each of her temples and closed her eyes, imitating the actions of a gypsy who came to the street about once a year to ask if she could read their fortunes for a penny. The women in the street had got together and said if she would only charge a ha’penny, then they’d all have their fortunes told.

Aggie began to groan. ‘Oh, yeah, it’s all coming clear now, I was standing next to someone – I can’t clearly make the face out, but I think it’s my neighbour and best friend … Rita Wells. We were in the butcher’s together waiting to be served.’ She frowned as though deep in concentration. ‘But I can’t see Mrs Sloane or Mrs Johnson, and I can’t feel their presence. Oh, it’s all fading now, my mind is going blank.’ She fell back in the chair, seemingly worn out by the experience. ‘Oh, I do feel drained.’ Then a smile spread across her chubby face. ‘That was good, that, wasn’t it, girl? Passed a bit of time away.’

Other books

The Nidhi Kapoor Story by Saurabh Garg
The Double Rose by Valle, Lynne Erickson
Secret Sisters by Jayne Ann Krentz
Bayou Moon by Geraldine Allie
Recovery by Troy Denning
Deadly Lullaby by Robert McClure
Summer in Tuscany by Elizabeth Adler