When Wishes Come True (50 page)

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Authors: Joan Jonker

BOOK: When Wishes Come True
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‘If he loves you as much as yer love him, then I’m sure he won’t turn away from yer. Why should he? You are a married woman who had a baby by a husband killed in the war. Is there anything so terrible in that? Of course there isn’t, and yer mustn’t let anyone think you are ashamed. Keep that in mind and yer’ll find the courage and the strength to do what yer have to do.’

Evelyn leaned forward and took both of Bessie’s hands in hers. ‘If I hadn’t been so selfish all these years, thinking myself too good for anyone in this street, then what good friends we could have been. You would probably have talked sense into me years ago, making me confront Mr Lister-Sinclair with the truth. But then I would never have met Philip. I might have lived in luxury, and Amelia and I would have wanted for nothing. However, I would have missed two very important events in my life. One is meeting the man I adore, and the other is being brought down from my ivory tower to meet the most genuine people I’m ever likely to meet. I’ve been taught well by you and your friends, Bessie, and it’s a lesson I will never forget. That money doesn’t mean a thing if you haven’t got good friends who are warm and compassionate.’

Bessie could feel a lump forming in her throat. ‘I’m sorry meself that we left it so late to become friends, and I hope that now we are, we always will be. And I’m glad yer’ve decided to take the bull by the horns, for I do believe you will come through it a very happy woman. I hope so, for Amelia’s sake. But I hope yer’ll never stop me from seeing her? I have grown to love her very much.’

‘That’s a promise I will make, and which will be easy to keep. My daughter would never forget you, or allow me to either.’ Evelyn stood up. ‘I’d better go, I don’t like leaving Amelia on her own too long. But I do thank you for making me see sense, and will keep you informed every step of the way.’

‘Tomorrow night, when yer’ve got five minutes to spare, I’ll tell yer what we’ve bought so far with the money. A lot of poor people in this street will bless you and your friend for giving them the chance to enjoy Christmas with food and warmth.’ Bessie told herself now was the time. ‘Oh, speaking of Christmas, will I be having Milly? That’s if yer want to spend the time with yer friend, of course. If you are, I’d be very happy to have her for the two days.’

‘Thank you, Bessie, I’d love to be with my friend. And I don’t think I’m being selfish, I know my daughter would much prefer to spend Christmas with you and your friends.’

Chapter Twenty-Six

On the Monday of Christmas week, Bessie spent her dinner break going into town to buy material for the two dresses she had to make for the holidays. If she didn’t put a move on they wouldn’t be made in time, and then she’d have no present for Milly or a decent dress for herself. There was no time for her to dawdle in the big store, so she headed straight to the material department. Thankfully there were few customers, for most people who were able to make their own clothes would have allowed themselves more time than she had. Still, she was working every day and couldn’t be in two places at once.

As she approached the long counter covered with bales of material of all colours, her eyes lighted on a roll of crêpe in a lovely warm deep wine colour. That’s for me, she said to herself, just what I had in mind. She beckoned one of the assistants over and asked her for three yards, which was ample for her with her small, slim figure. While the assistant was busy, she walked along the counter, eyes searching for a colour which would suit Milly. And then she spotted it. A soft green, the same colour as Milly’s eyes. It was in a linen material, medium thickness, which would be suitable for wear in summer or winter. She could make a small round collar in white, which would set it off nicely. So the assistant was asked to cut two yards off, and would she kindly wrap both materials together to make it easier for Bessie to carry?

Once out of the shop, she hurried to the tram stop. She’d be hard pushed to get back to her sewing machine before the buzzer sounded, but she wouldn’t get into trouble for she was otherwise always punctual and never took time off. Her tummy was rumbling with hunger, but it would have to rumble until she got back to work. She’d brought two sandwiches in with her and had left them on her machine, covered by a roll of cloth. She’d have to wait until her boss had his back turned or was out of sight in his office before she could eat them. Anyway, she was feeling so pleased with her purchases she wouldn’t be upset if she got told off.

Once settled on the tram, Bessie let her body sway from side to side with the movement, as her mind drifted over the latest events. Life was good right now with everything ordered for the hampers, which would be picked up by the very happy recipients on the morning of Christmas Eve, about ten o’clock, to give the butcher time to have them delivered. When Bessie had first told her neighbours in the street, a few days ago, their faces showed they didn’t believe her. They took some convincing at first, for nobody had ever offered them a helping hand before. Then she’d been hugged and kissed so much she expected to be bruised all over. But it would have been worth it just to see a smile on the thin faces of these careworn women who had been dreading Christmas without even money for food, let alone presents for their children. And what mother doesn’t want to see the happiness on their children’s faces when they think Father Christmas has been and left them a present?

Bessie was brought out of her reverie by the conductor dinging the bell to warn the driver there were passengers wanting to alight at the next stop. When she glanced through the window she saw it was hers. She picked up the paper bag with the material in, and clung to the back of each of the seats between her and the platform. She swung herself down on to the pavement with a smile on her face when she remembered there were only five more days to go. She’d have to move fast to have the two dresses finished, but she’d get there. Once she started she’d go like the clappers.

Rita was taking a flat iron off the gas stove when she heard the entry door latch slotting into place. ‘Oh, no,’ she groaned aloud, ‘I was hoping to get these finished and out of the way before the kids come in from school.’ Putting the iron back on the gas ring, she lifted the net curtain and saw Aggie walking up the back yard. But it wasn’t the same Aggie she was used to seeing, with untidy hair, stained pinny and stockings crumpled round her ankles. Oh, no, this Aggie was walking with the air of someone of note, her head held high and bust standing to attention. Rita didn’t bother opening the door, she knew her neighbour would walk in without knocking. So she quickly picked up the iron, pretending she hadn’t seen anything.

Aggie shut the door behind her and waited for her mate to notice her. ‘Busy are yer, queen? I see yer pressing the boys’ trousers.’

Rita didn’t look up. ‘Yeah, I want to get them out of the way before they come in from school. I’ve done the best I can with their shirts, and they look quite presentable, so that’ll be them finished.’ She was dying to look up, could imagine her mate getting all hot and bothered by this time. But Rita told herself to wait and see what Aggie would do to draw attention to herself.

‘I’ve pressed Kenny’s trousers and Kitty’s dress, and put them away in the wardrobe so they won’t see them. And I’ve done me own dress as well.’ Aggie was indeed getting all hot and bothered. She’d gone to the trouble of dolling herself up to the nines, and her mate hadn’t even looked at her! ‘Have yer pressed your dress yet?’

‘Yeah, I did mine first.’ Rita didn’t turn a hair, just kept on pressing even though she knew she wasn’t making a ha’porth of difference to the trousers because the iron had gone cool. ‘It’s come up a treat, looks really nice on me.’

That did it for Aggie. ‘Well, you miserable cow! I suppose yer’ve put yer dress away in the wardrobe without letting me see it on yer, have yer? That’s dead mean of yer, that is, seeing as I’ve gone to the trouble of coming to show yer what mine looks like on.’

Rita was chuckling inside. ‘It looks very nice on yer, sunshine, dead smart.’

‘How would yer know that, smart arse, when yer can’t even be bothered to turn yer head to see what I look like?’

‘I heard the entry door go, sunshine, and lifted the curtain to see who it was. And, to my complete and utter amazement, I see a stranger walking up the yard.’ Rita put the iron back on the stove. ‘I had to look twice, and it was only seeing the blue fleecy-lined bloomers that I realised it was me mate and not Ethel Barrymore.’

Aggie bent down. ‘My bloomers are not showing, clever clogs, ’cos I’ve put new elastic in the legs. So ye’re not so smart, after all.’

‘Take no notice of me, Aggie, ’cos I’m only jealous. Here’s me, looking like a scullery maid, and you dressed to kill. I was taken aback, I can tell yer, jealousy eating at the very heart of me. In fact it was worse than jealousy, it was envy. And as yer know, envy is one of the deadly sins.’

‘All right, all right, queen, yer’ve had yer twopennyworth of fun now so let’s have a bit of honesty out of yer. How d’yer like me dress, and does it look nice on me?’

‘Aggie, yer really look great. The dress suits yer, it fits yer curves as though it’s been made for yer, and it makes yer look a lot thinner. Ye’re never likely to get such a good bargain in yer life again. When yer go out in that, with yer new coat on, the neighbours will think there’s a new family moved into the street.’ Rita kissed her on the cheek. ‘Just wait until Sam sees yer, his eyes will pop out of his head.’

Aggie’s chuckle should have warned her neighbour. ‘It’s not his eyes I’m after, queen, my thoughts are a bit lower down.’

‘Don’t you say another word, Aggie Gordon, or yer’ll be sorry.’ Rita wagged a stiffened finger under her friend’s nose. ‘Ye’re likely to end up on yer backside in the yard, and that wouldn’t do yer posh dress much good.’

Aggie managed to look aggrieved. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with you, Rita Wells. Ye’re a married woman, like meself, have had two kids, like meself, and yer husband must have got the same parts to his body as mine has.’ She stopped as a thought apparently entered her head, gave a little nod then went on, ‘Mind you, your feller might have the same number of parts, but it doesn’t mean his are the same size as my feller’s. And I’m just beginning to see why yer haven’t got no sense of humour, and never laugh when I tell yer a dirty joke.
That’s
why there’s never a smile on yer gob in the mornings when I come in full of the joys of spring after a night of passion.’ Oh, how Aggie’s thoughts ran ahead of her. She’d bring a smile to her mate’s face if it killed her. ‘Yer know, I always thought we were good friends, helping each other out in times of trouble. So it makes me feel really sad that yer have suffered in silence instead of sharing yer troubles with me.’

‘What troubles?’ Rita asked, while knowing full well she was walking into a trap. ‘I haven’t got no troubles, what are yer on about?’

‘Yer can tell me, queen, yer know yer can trust me not to tell no one. And I’m the best person to ask about any problems ye’re going through in the bedroom department. Yer shouldn’t just lie there, gazing at the ceiling and thinking of England, when yer could be having the time of yer life. My feller sends thrills up and down me spine, has me crying out with desire, and takes me on a journey to heaven and back. Yer just don’t know what ye’re missing, queen, yer really don’t.’

‘Ah, but that’s the point, sunshine, I don’t miss it. Not one tiny cry or scream, not one plea for more, not one creak or twang of the bedsprings. And many’s the night me and Reg have lain there listening to Sam pleading, “Ah, not again, girl, I’m worn out! It’s all right for you, sitting on yer backside all day, but I’ve just put in a day’s hard work, I haven’t got the energy. Now turn on yer side and behave yerself until Saturday night.”’

But Rita should have known she couldn’t get the better of her mate. For as Aggie stood there with a look on her face that could have been anger or horror, she was actually using the time to think of a really good answer. ‘D’yer mean you and Reg lie there and listen to our private conversation? Yer have no right to listen in, queen, that’s being nosy.’

‘Aggie, sunshine, once you get in yer bedroom, nothing is private because yer’ve got such a loud voice. If yer don’t want to be heard, keep it down.’

‘Ah, is that why we never hear you and Reg enjoying yerselves? D’yer put gags in yer mouth, so we can’t hear yer?’ Aggie dropped her head. ‘It just goes to show, yer never really know who yer bleeding friends are.’ She began to click her tongue. ‘Yer’ve really taken me by surprise, queen, I’m cut to the quick. I mean, fancy your Reg lying there, listening to me pleading and not coming to my aid.’

Rita chuckled, ‘How could he come to yer aid when yer were in bed with yer husband?’

‘Yeah, I know all that, queen, but Reg knew my feller wasn’t up to it, and knowing I was desperate, he could have come and taken over. I mean, he’s a good mate of Sam’s, he could have helped him out. Sam would have appreciated it.’ Aggie saw Rita walking towards her with a very stern expression on her face, and tried to reason with her. ‘One man is as good as another in a dark room, queen, and you would have gained from it, too! I’ve got a few tricks up me sleeve I could have taught Reg, and yer’d be surprised how much more exciting yer love life would have been. You and your feller wouldn’t be lying there like dummies every night, listening to me and Sam enjoying ourselves, ’cos yer’d be too busy trying out the new tricks I’d taught him.’

Her face deadpan, Rita lifted the latch on the kitchen door. ‘On yer way, sunshine, I’ve got too much to do to listen to what yer get up to in yer bedroom. So yer can just poppy off.’

Aggie’s jaw dropped. ‘Yer mean I get all dolled up in me new dress, comb me ruddy hair, and I don’t even get asked if I want a cup of tea? Ye’re taking yer spite out on me ’cos yer don’t like hearing what goes on in me bedroom?’

Rita shook her head. ‘No, that’s not the reason I’m throwing yer out, sunshine, it’s because yer were prepared to tell my Reg the secret of your fantastic love life, instead of telling me.’ She couldn’t keep her face straight any longer, her cheeks were aching. ‘It’s me what’s supposed to be yer mate, not my Reg.’

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