Birmingham Blitz (35 page)

‘Not much.’

Lil was still looking disbelieving. ‘What about – where’re they going to sleep and that?’

Nan gave her one of her looks.

‘Search me,’ I said. ‘All they talk about at the moment is clothes – Molly’s dress.’

‘Who’s this woman who’s making it then?’

‘A Mrs Van der Meyer.’

Lil frowned. ‘That a Kraut name?’

‘No, Dutch, and anyhow he’s dead. She’s a widow. Anyroad, Molly’s not going to let any of us within a mile of that dress before the day.’

‘Course not. Bad luck else, isn’t it?’

‘If you ask me,’ Lil said, ‘the whole thing’s bad luck.’

For the time being Vera Spini was like a person reborn. When I came to the shop that Saturday after the good news I heard her singing. She looked younger suddenly. There was colour in her cheeks, she’d touched up her hair again and it was twisted into a straw-coloured knot behind her head.

‘That’s a happy sound,’ I said. ‘Nice to hear you. More like before the war.’

She was bustling around the shop with a broom and turned to smile at me.

‘I can’t say I’m not worried. It’s all wrong what they’ve done – he shouldn’t be there. There’s no trial or nothing, so what are we supposed to do? I get so angry thinking about it. But for now—’ She stopped and leaned on the broom. ‘They’re all alive. That’s all I can think about.’ Her expression turned bleak for a second. ‘I don’t know what I’d have done . . . This is daft thinking about something that hasn’t even happened.’ She carried on sweeping. ‘D’you want Teresa? She’s round the back.’

‘Is Carlo there?’

Vera looked round at me with a mischievous smile. ‘You’ve noticed then?’

‘He seems to be round a lot.’

‘Well, he’s not here now. Lovely boy he is. I just wish Teresa would open her eyes and see the lad’s crazy about her. But that’s Teresa for you, always facing the wrong way when it matters. He’ll be gone and she still won’t get the message.’

‘Gone?’

‘He’s joining up.’

Teresa was washing the floor in the house so I climbed on a chair to talk to her, watching her egg-timer shape from behind as she knelt, circling the scrubbing brush on the tiles.

She looked up and grinned through black curtains of hair. ‘Thought you were up to your eyes in wedding dresses.’

‘Oh no – Gladys is in charge of all that. We know every stitch and tuck of it, except for the fact we’ve never seen it!’

‘She wearing white?’

‘Oh, I don’t know about that!’ Both of us laughed. ‘Can’t really, can she, in her position. You are coming, aren’t you?’

‘I wouldn’t miss it for anything.’

‘We’re decorating the church tomorrow night – me and Lil. I’ve been down the Bull Ring buying up the flowers.’

Teresa asked cautiously, ‘How’s your mom?’

It was such a relief to have someone I could tell the whole truth to. ‘She’s bad. In a right state most of the time, Teresa. I can’t get through to her at all since Joe and me . . .’

Teresa stopped scrubbing and sat back on her heels, pushing her hair out of the way with her arm. ‘You really serious about him?’

I nodded.

‘I can see you are. You’re different. How does it feel, Genie?’

‘What?’

‘Loving someone – really.’

How to tell her? The very best best. ‘What about Carlo?’

‘I’ve always liked Carlo – a real lot actually. It’s just I’ve known him so long. He’s always just been there, like Stevie—’

‘Up till now,’ I interrupted.

She looked into my face. ‘I’m very fond of him. He loves me, has for a long time, so he says. I suppose I thought it’d be more dramatic. Like in the pictures. He’s always so polite. He hardly touches me—’

‘A gent?’

‘I s’pose. Shy of changing things, I think. I know I don’t want him to go. I do know that much. By the way—’ She stood up and lifted the bucket. ‘Have you heard about Walt?’

‘No,’ I said stiffly. ‘What?’

‘He’s got a girl into trouble. Run off to join up and left her instead of facing the music.’

‘But he’s too young to join up! He’s only seventeen.’

Teresa put her head on one side. ‘D’you know, since they took Stevie, and all the trouble we’ve been through with it, he never once came in to see us. No “How are you, Mrs Spini, any news about Stevie?” Nothing. Some friend he turned out to be. That girl’s better off without him. So I don’t s’pose lying about his age’ll come too hard to him, do you?’

Lil and I did our best with the church. The flowers I bought were a whole mix of colours, and as well as those, Mr Tailor from down the road let us have some out of his garden which was decked out like a flower show every summer. It was from him we had a bundle of wheat which he grew because he liked the look of it and tight yellow rosebuds which made Lil say wistfully, ‘Aren’t they lovely? They’re my favourites, they are.’

Mom half-heartedly offered to help, but she still had sewing jobs to do on Len’s suit for the next day so we left her to it. Lil and I carried our buckets and ribbon and scissors down the road and let ourselves into the church in the evening light. Peach-coloured rays were shafting in through the west window. The atmosphere was stuffy and filled with the smell of floor polish.

Lil eyed up the wrought-iron flower stand. ‘I’m not sure I’m very good at this. We’ll have to hope for the best.’ She turned to me. ‘I want Len to have the best. Have we got hymns and that?’

‘Mom’s sorted it with the vicar. She wanted “Lead Us, Heavenly Father, Lead Us”. She said that’s a good one for a wedding.’

We managed, after a few false starts, to cut and arrange the flowers in a magnificent spray on the stand, and put vases of flowers round to decorate the altar and sidetables. We tied sprays of wheat ears with yellow ribbon and attached them to the ends of the pews.

‘Looks like a harvest festival,’ I said, tying bows and flattening them the best I could.

‘No it doesn’t.’ Lil backed down the church, surveying what we’d done. ‘It looks beautiful. Molly’ll love it, bless her. Time something nice happened to her.’ Lil was coming round much more to the idea of the wedding now she’d got caught up in the spirit of it.

‘You’ve changed your tune.’

‘It’s just – seeing it all, like this . . . D’you remember my wedding – Patsy’s and mine?’

‘Course I do.’ I was seven when they married. ‘Wouldn’t forget being a bridesmaid, would I?’

Lil shook her head. ‘I was so happy that day. It really was the best day of my life – well, maybe except the ones the babbies were born. Not even a wedding beats that. My poor Patsy. I hope he don’t mind me going about with Frank.’

‘D’you really like Frank, Lil?’ I asked shyly. Now I was with Joe it seemed we could talk woman to woman.

Lil picked up a long curl of leftover ribbon and started winding it round her fingers. ‘I do, yes. At first – well, still really, because it’s only been a few weeks – I couldn’t stop thinking about Patsy. Comparing them, and feeling bad at being with someone else. As if Patsy was watching, talking to me in my head. I’ve felt that on and off since he died. At first he was always saying, “Why didn’t you stop me? Why did you let me do it?” My own guilt talking, I s’pose. But I know really it wasn’t my fault, wasn’t anyone’s. It was all an accident. Anyhow, after a bit I’d hear him saying more ordinary things, just like chat. That was nice, for a bit.’ She gave a little laugh. ‘Now though, it’s more as if – how can I say it? – he’s still there and I love him, but he’s not part of now. I can see Frank without being ashamed. I can love both of them.’

‘Our nan doesn’t take to him, does she? I’d’ve thought she was a pretty good judge.’

Lil gave a snort. ‘Mom? Are you kidding? She may be a good judge of some things, like how much stew a bag of scrag end’ll run to. But when it comes to men . . . I mean look who she married! And she was wrong about Patsy, wasn’t she? Had him down as a navvy and a waster. No, if you want advice about men, Genie, come to me, not my mom – and not your mom neither, come to that!’

We both laughed, but Lil with an edge of tears. ‘Sometimes I just want to feel someone’s arms around me so bad I ache with it.’ She caught hold of the broom. ‘Best get on. Be dark soon.’ I followed her round with a dustpan and brush, and we went to search for a dustbin out the back of the church.

‘Your Joe now,’ Lil said, shooting flower stalks into the bin. I felt myself blush. My Joe! ‘He’s a good’un I reckon. You could do a lot worse than him, and you deserve to be happy, Genie. God knows, you do.’

The wedding morning dawned bright and we were all up and running like headless chickens before we were half awake. Our nan was down by half six carrying plates of stuff already cut with muttoncloth over them, I was brewing up tea for everyone and there were eggs on the go in a pan. Mom and Nan started laying up the table at the front, talking about beef and chicken sandwiches. We’d saved everything we could for that wedding, and lots of people had chipped in. We’d already done a trifle of sorts and there was tinned fruit, and Gladys was being very mysterious about the wedding cake, which was another aspect of things she’d taken on herself.

She soon made an appearance of course.

Mom rolled her eyes to the ceiling. ‘Go and answer the door before she knocks it down, Genie.’

Gladys sailed in with a tray of little cakes. ‘Straight out of the oven,’ she boomed. ‘I’ve been up since four.’ The smell of them drifted in after her, sweet and delicious, and they looked soft and golden. Good job our mom didn’t volunteer for that bit.

‘How’s Molly?’ Nan asked.

‘Got her ’ead over a pail at the moment,’ Gladys reported to anyone in the whole neighbourhood who might happen to be listening. ‘She’ll be awright with summat on her stomach though.’ She wiped her hands on her pinner and lowered her voice, which was a relief. Looking round at us in grand triumph she said, ‘We’ve got the dress. You’re in for a surprise.’

We all stared at her. Were we supposed to ask questions?

‘Can’t wait,’ I said since no one else opened their mouth.

‘Anyroad, this won’t get the babby a new coat,’ Gladys said as if we were all in a plot to waylay her. ‘We’ll see you later.’

‘Gladys,’ Mom called across after her. ‘Any idea how many you’ve got coming?’

Disappearing into her house, she called, ‘Oh, quite a few . . .’

We had to get Lenny out of bed and get some breakfast down him. Nan had starched him a collar and she fixed it all for him, pushing in the studs. ‘Chin up, Len. It’s a bit tight,’ she said, struggling. Len’s huge face loomed over the tight collar which was biting into the side of his neck. ‘How d’s it feel?’

‘Awright.’ He was grinning, which was more or less what he’d been doing non-stop ever since we first got him up. She helped him into his trousers and jacket, fastened his tie for him, soaped his hair flat and combed it. ‘Now – let’s have a look at you.’

My nan stood there in front of her enormous, damaged son, looking him over from his plastered down hair to his newly blacked shoes. I saw a nerve in her face twitch. I bet she never thought she’d see this day. Her Len getting married. She licked her lips to bring the tremble in them under control and, pulling out a hanky from the front of her dress, she looked down so her eyes were hidden.

Finally she said, ‘You’ll do.’

The wedding was at eleven. At the last minute I was still putting whitener on my shoes and searching for gloves. But we walked down to St Paul’s in good time, Mom with her arm through Len’s, explaining to him for the umpteenth time that when the service started he was to wait at the front for Molly to walk up to him, and then the vicar would do all the other things they’d practised.

‘Remember what you have to say when he asks you the questions, Len?’

‘I—’

‘Do. I
do
, Len. That’s all you have to remember.’ She made him repeat it over. ‘Anyway, Mom and I’ll be sitting right at the front so if you need any help you just look at us, right?’

‘Church looks very nice,’ Nan said approvingly as we walked in, and it was true. The blaze of colour from the spray at the front, edged with the half-open yellow roses, looked beautiful, though Mom didn’t bother to say so to us. Everything had to be perfect for her precious Lenny’s wedding day but she wasn’t going to hand out any credit for it. The only thing she said to me on the way in, in a melancholy voice, was, ‘I wish Victor was here.’

Our side of the church was empty until we arrived. Nanny Rawson’s sister over in Aldridge said she might get there but we never saw any sign of her and no one else knew it was happening. But over on Molly’s side there were quite a few there already, all dolled up.

After a few minutes the lady organist started up and we saw more and more trickle in on the Benders’ side. Nan, next to me, was watching them from under the same hat she’d worn to Lola’s funeral, only this time she had on a flowery frock instead of the mourning-coloured coat. I knew she was sizing up the numbers, wondering if they were all coming back to the house and if we’d got enough food.

There was a tap on my shoulder. ‘Genie!’ It was Tom, all scrubbed and in his school shorts and jumper. ‘Can I sit with you?’ He didn’t need to ask. As he squeezed into the pew he opened one hand and showed me a shiny shilling.