It Had To Be You (19 page)

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Authors: June Francis

BOOK: It Had To Be You
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They were walking at least a yard apart and Dougie seemed to be doing all the talking, which was no surprise to Emma. She caught up with them and Lila flashed her an odd little smile.

Dougie said, ‘You were quick.’

‘Do you think so?’ she responded. ‘This is my sister, Betty. She’s heard that much about you that she wanted to meet you.’

‘He doesn’t look like the twins,’ said Betty to Emma.

Dougie heard her. ‘No, thank God, two of them is enough.’

‘So how long can you stay, or are you heading back to Liverpool this evening?’ asked Emma.

‘Not sure yet,’ said Dougie.

Lila hesitated. ‘I don’t want you staying long at our house. Dad’s not used to visitors and he won’t want your pity, you know.’

‘He won’t get it,’ rasped Dougie, his smile vanishing. ‘Your dad was wounded in the war. Mine was killed.’

Lila’s face went blank with shock. Dougie stared at her and looked uncomfortable but he didn’t apologise for the swift rebuke he had given her. Emma felt embarrassed by their exchange. Betty glanced at her sister and rolled her eyes. Emma pulled a face. The only sounds now were the breeze rustling the trees and of a blackbird singing.

It was not long before they reached the house. She could see Mr Ashcroft in the window as they went up the path. He must have heard them coming because he turned his head and looked down at them, with an arrested expression on his face. Emma thought how he did not often have visitors and that the unexpected arrival of two strangers must have taken him aback. She could only hope
that he and Dougie would get on with each other.

Lila led the way inside and ushered the other three into the front room. ‘Dad, Emma and her sister have come to see you with Dougie, the policeman I mentioned. He wants your advice. I’ll be in the kitchen if I’m needed.’

Jack Ashcroft switched off the wireless and stared at Dougie. ‘You must be the young man whose brother fell off a wall and is crippled. How can I help you?’

‘I’d like to know what helps you to cope and what makes life harder for you in your condition?’ he said without hesitation.

Emma decided to leave the two men alone and murmured to her sister that she was going into the kitchen. Instantly Betty followed her. They found Lila standing over by the window, staring out over the garden.

‘They’re talking. I think you were worrying about your dad unnecessarily,’ said Emma.

Lila turned round with a sad expression on her face. ‘They’re two very different men. If only Dad had just a little bit of Dougie’s confidence I think he would force himself to get out into the world, instead of sitting in here day after day making his models.’

Emma said quietly, ‘Don’t be so hard on your dad. I’ll tell you something. Betty and I will come and listen to the coronation on the wireless with
the pair of you. I’ll make a special cake for the occasion.’

‘Thanks!’ said Lila, giving a half smile.

‘No trouble. You tell your dad after we’ve gone.’

When they returned to the front room, it was to find Dougie inspecting Jack Ashcroft’s latest model. ‘This is really good. What you need is a market for them,’ said Dougie, picking up one of the ships Jack had made. ‘I’d like to buy this one.’

Jack looked astounded. ‘I did that from a photograph. It’s the troopship that brought me home.’

Dougie nodded. ‘Then you could do another one if I bought this. I’ve the perfect place for it in our house. I’ve one pound ten shillings on me,’ he said.

Jack said gruffly, ‘I’ll take ten shillings. I could make you a new model as that one’s been around for a while and is a bit dusty.’

‘If you do that,’ said Dougie, ‘I’ll pay you a pound and come back to pick it up. You or Lila could write to me and let me know when it’s ready.’

Emma thought how nice Dougie was being to Lila’s father and she warmed to him all over again. If only she knew where she stood with him. But he had given her an idea. ‘Why don’t I display some of your models in my front room where I serve teas, Mr Ashcroft?’ she suggested. ‘Could be that you might get more sales.’

Jack stared at her and his Adam’s apple moved
convulsively. ‘You’d have to take a percentage,’ he said roughly.

‘Of course,’ she replied, considering his pride. ‘I’ll charge a bit more than the price you fix.’

‘Mam’ll be pleased if you do sell some of your models,’ said Lila. ‘Thanks for putting the idea into his head, Dougie,’ she added, smiling up at him.

‘I admire your father’s skill,’ he said, touching her cheek with the back of his hand. ‘I’m sure there must be a bigger market for his models in Liverpool.’

Jack chuckled. ‘I think you’re being a bit too ambitious for me, lad,’ he said. ‘But I’ll bear it in mind.’

‘You can’t be too ambitious,’ said Dougie, glancing at Lila. ‘I’d best be going. Don’t forget to get in touch with me when it’s ready.’

‘It’s unlikely to be before the coronation,’ said Lila. ‘I’ll see the three of you out.’

‘What a nice man he is,’ said Betty, during the walk back to the cottage.

‘Aye, not like some,’ said Emma.

Betty guessed who she meant. If only Aunt Elsie had not married Uncle Teddy, then she could still be at home, seeing her friends and going to school. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be with Emma, but she would have much preferred for them both to be celebrating the coronation with Irene, Maggie and Dorothy. She remembered how her younger cousin
had hinted that her mother might actually rent or buy a television so they could watch the queen being crowned as it actually happened. Betty would have enjoyed doing that, but she would never return to her aunt’s house whilst
he
was living under its roof. If only he could drop dead, it would make her day.

‘I hate this frock!’ Maggie crossed her arms and dragged the short, puffed-sleeved gingham dress over her head and threw it on the bed. ‘It’s too young for me.’

‘I thought you chose it,’ said Dorothy, glancing over at her sister.

‘You’re joking! I don’t get to choose anything now,’ she said with a mutinous expression. ‘I’ll have to wear the last one I chose myself; at least the short sleeves are plain and the neckline is not so frumpy.’

‘Mum will have something to say,’ murmured Dorothy, brushing her hair.

‘I don’t care. It’s all her fault! She’s determined to treat me like a kid. I’d love to do something to
shock her into realising that the world’s moved on since she was my age.’ Maggie removed a pink and white polka-dot frock with a sweetheart neckline from the wardrobe and put it on.

‘She’s had enough shocks lately, so behave yourself,’ said Dorothy, placing her hairbrush on the dressing table. ‘You’d better get a move on.’

Maggie began to brush her hair. ‘I suppose you haven’t mentioned Betty having gone to live with Emma in your last letter to Jared?’ she asked.

‘No, it would be difficult knowing what to leave in and what to leave out. Besides, Mum might have already written to him,’ said Dorothy, reaching for the Max Factor lipstick she had treated herself to last Saturday.

Maggie nodded and fastened her hair into a ponytail. She cocked her head to one side. ‘Did you hear the front door go then? That means another of the neighbours has arrived. I’m surprised Mum’s asked so many to come as they might start asking more questions about our Betty. I know a couple of kids in the street have asked me where she’s gone.’

‘What did you tell them?’ asked Dorothy, outlining her lips.

‘That she’s staying with her dad’s relatives. It’s true, isn’t it?’

Dorothy nodded, dabbing ‘Evening in Paris’ behind her ears, wondering if any of the women would get the wrong idea and think that which her
mother had done her best to avoid. ‘I wonder what Mum’s told them.’

Maggie shrugged. ‘Let’s forget it for now. The television’s on and I think I’ve just heard the door go again! There’s going to be quite a crowd in the living room.’

‘Perhaps I should go on ahead,’ said Dorothy.

‘No! Wait for me,’ said Maggie.

‘Isn’t it time you were downstairs, Dorothy,’ said Teddy, thrusting his head around the jamb. ‘Your mum can’t do everything herself, you know.’

‘I’ve already been helping out in the kitchen,’ said Dorothy, an edge to her voice. ‘Now, if you’ll get out of the way, Uncle Teddy.’

He moved aside to let her through but then blocked the doorway so Maggie couldn’t get past. He touched her shoulder and she shrugged off his hand. ‘Don’t do that!’ she said.

He scowled. ‘What’s wrong with you, Maggie? I’m just being affectionate.’

‘I d-don’t want you being affectionate. Dorothy!’ she called. ‘Uncle Teddy is messing about and won’t let me past.’

Dorothy poked him in the side with her elbow and, reaching round him, grabbed hold of Maggie’s arm, so forcing him to move out of the way. ‘If you don’t mind, we’ve got things to do, Uncle Teddy,’ said Dorothy. ‘Come on, Mags.’

He muttered something beneath his breath that
they did not catch. ‘We mustn’t let him spoil our day,’ said Dorothy, hurrying downstairs.

‘I can’t wait to see the queen in her golden coach,’ said Maggie, her eyes sparkling, thinking that, according to the timetable in the
Echo
, the first procession would arrive at Westminster Abbey at quarter to nine, but it would not be until eleven o’clock that the queen would take the oath. She was due to be crowned at twenty-five to one. It was going to be a long service.

The sitting room was already occupied by a number of neighbours and the sisters realised they would have to grab a cushion and sit on the floor. Hopefully Elsie wouldn’t expect them to make tea and carry it round with a plate of biscuits just yet.

‘It’s a blinking shame that it’s raining,’ said the woman from next door.

‘Let’s hope it goes off or it’s going to spoil the street party,’ said another.

‘At least there’ll be more food than we had for VE and VJ Day,’ piped up an elderly gentleman.

Dorothy could remember VE Day. Her father had still been alive and so had Aunt Lizzie. Her eyes were shiny with tears, remembering her aunt saying that they must be glad that the war in Europe was over, even though her husband and thousands of other men wouldn’t be coming home.

Dorothy wagered that the queen would be thinking of her father today of all days. It must be
a very emotional time for her. She would be sad and excited at the same time and somehow she was going to have to smile, smile and smile for her subjects who’d be cheering like mad when they saw her in a golden coach, wearing a crown.

As the minutes ticked by, Dorothy was aware that her uncle had entered the room. The chair that had been her father’s had been kept empty for him and that infuriated her. He appeared to be having a joke with one of the women, and even as she watched, he glanced her way and there was dislike in his eyes. She stared at him coolly and then looked away at the television screen.

The room grew silent as the deep, rich tones of Richard Dimbleby’s commentary did justice to the occasion. Dorothy felt quite emotional as she watched her sovereign taking the solemn oath. Maggie said that it was as good as a play but that the small television screen didn’t give the full spectacle of the occasion. ‘I can’t wait to watch it all over again in colour at the cinema,’ she added.

As the two sisters handed around cups of tea and biscuits, Dorothy’s thoughts were of her brother and cousin. She knew that Betty and Emma would have been listening to the service on the wireless at Lila’s parents’ house because Emma had written telling her so. Then they would be going to a party in the village. She had told her also that she was writing to Betty’s headmistress and hopefully they could come
to some arrangement concerning her exams.

No doubt Jared would be listening to the service, too. There had been mention of a possible armistice in the newspapers and she was praying her brother would live to see it come about. It would be terrible if he should go and get killed within months of being demobbed.

After they had finished the tea and biscuits, the neighbours left to make their own preparations for the party and the girls gave Elsie a helping hand. Fortunately the rain had ceased and the red, white and blue roses and streamers of crêpe paper that decorated doorways and gateposts had not been ruined. Chairs and trestle tables were set up in the street. Snowy-white tablecloths were spread over the table tops, and cutlery, dishes and cups put in place. Then came the sandwiches, jellies, cakes, biscuits, meat pies and sausage rolls. They were covered with napkins and tea towels whilst most people went to change into their glad rags.

Dorothy thought of all the food being eaten throughout Britain and the colonies to celebrate this special occasion, not to mention the drink that would be downed. Uncle Teddy had vanished as soon as there was work to do, but now he reappeared with a couple of other men, bringing a barrel of beer from the local pub. No doubt there would be a few sore heads in the morning, she thought.

‘Well, well, well,’ said Teddy, as soon as he had
a glass of beer in his hand. His gaze slid over his wife, Dorothy and Maggie. ‘Don’t you all look a picture. I must get a snap of the three of you,’ he said, placing his glass on a table. He produced the Brownie camera that had once belonged to his brother, Owen, and tried to focus.

‘Are you having trouble seeing us?’ asked Elsie, who was wearing a new floral-print dress in red, white and blue.

‘I bet he’s already had a couple of pints in the pub,’ Maggie murmured to her sister.

‘Just bloody keep still,’ ordered Teddy.

At last the picture was taken and then he thrust the camera in Elsie’s hand and told her to take one of him with the girls. Before they could move away he’d thrust an arm around Dorothy and Maggie’s waists, squeezing them as he did so.

‘Don’t do that!’ said Dorothy, pulling away.

‘Keep still!’ cried Elsie, and pressed the button that operated the shutter. The girls immediately dragged themselves free and put as much distance between them and their uncle as possible.

The party was soon in full swing, and after people had eaten their fill and while the tables were being cleared, a piano was brought out of a house.

First, there was a game of musical chairs for the children to the tune of ‘The Teddy Bears’ Picnic’. After that a great deal of fun was had with a game of Blind Man’s Bluff. Eventually, though, mothers
took their young ones to bed and the pianist began to play dance music.

Determined to see what was happening in Irene Miller’s street, Maggie slipped away unnoticed while her mother was talking to a neighbour and Dorothy was dancing with a young man she had known since they had moved to Litherland. Suddenly, Dorothy became aware that she was being watched by a tall, fair-haired young man. He seemed vaguely familiar, but she only realised when the music stopped and he came over and tapped her partner on the shoulder and asked if he could butt in, that it was Dougie Marshall.

He really was extremely tall and she had to tilt back her head to see his face clearly in the twilight. She felt a tremor go through her as their eyes met. Then the pianist struck up a polka and Dougie’s arm went round her waist. He clasped her left hand and they were off. She had always enjoyed the polka, considering it one of the most lively and exciting dances she had ever learnt. She could hear him humming to the music as he whirled her round and she found herself laughing with the sheer joy of the moment.

It wasn’t until the dance ended and the pianist struck up a leisurely waltz that he bent his head and murmured in her ear, ‘That was enjoyable.’

‘Yes, it was,’ said Dorothy, smiling. ‘Where did you learn to dance?’

‘At the Grafton in West Derby Road,’ he answered. ‘Never had any lessons, just picked it up by watching people and having a go.’

‘You must be a natural,’ she said, enjoying being held closer to him as he twirled her around. ‘I had lessons.’

‘Lucky you.’

‘I like dancing.’ She paused. ‘So why are you here?’

‘I went to see Emma and I thought you might like to know that she and Betty appear to be OK.’

‘It’s kind of you to come and tell me but she did write and tell me of your visit. She told me that you went to visit Lila’s father, too. Was he able to give you any useful advice on how to help your brother?’

Dougie nodded slowly. ‘Advice I found difficult to accept, because when Dad didn’t come back from the war, I had to take his place. Mr Ashcroft told me that I need to step back and let Pete do things for himself. It isn’t going to be easy.’

‘I can understand how you feel,’ said Dorothy sympathetically. ‘I feel I have to watch out for our Maggie more since Betty ran away.’

‘Do you know why she went?’

Lulled into a sense of well-being by the music, a couple of glasses of port and lemon and their friendly conversation, Dorothy decided to tell him some of it. After all, he was a policeman and must be accustomed to keeping things under
wraps. ‘My uncle took to hitting her. I didn’t know anything about it until Emma wrote and told me. Betty spoke to her about it but didn’t feel she could tell Mum.’

Dougie frowned. ‘This uncle is your mother’s second husband?’

‘Yes. He’s over there drinking. The short one,’ said Dorothy.

Teddy was standing alone, drinking and watching a couple of teenage girls giggling as they tried to learn the dance steps.

‘Dad never hit any of us,’ she continued, ‘but Uncle Teddy has a short fuse and is quick to react.’

‘Tricky,’ said Dougie, frowning. ‘Now if he was hitting your mother and we were called in to what we refer to as a “domestic”, then I could do something about it. As it is—’

‘I wasn’t asking you to do anything,’ said Dorothy hastily. ‘I was just explaining that he’s the reason why our Betty ran away. Once my brother, Jared, comes home things will be different.’

‘Jared doing his national service?’

‘Yes. I suppose Emma or Betty told you about him.’ She paused. ‘Will you be seeing Emma again soon?’

He told her about Lila’s father’s model making and how he’d be going up there as soon as Lila got in touch with him. ‘Perhaps you’d like to come with me,’ he suggested.

‘I’d like that,’ said Dorothy, her eyes shining.

The music stopped and she felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see her mother standing there. ‘Are you going to introduce me to this young man?’ asked Elsie, looking slightly the worse for drink.

Dorothy would rather have not, guessing that her mother would give her the third degree about Dougie. Yet she knew that she had no choice without being rude. ‘This is Dougie Marshall, Mum. He’s a policeman.’

‘A policeman!’ Elsie looked pleased and held out her hand. ‘Pleasure to meet you, Mr Marshall.’

‘Mrs Gregory.’ Dougie inclined his flaxen head as he shook her hand. ‘Your daughter is an excellent dancer.’

‘Yes. Her father would be pleased to know that his money wasn’t wasted. I’ve been watching you and your steps match perfectly,’ she said, beaming up at him.

Dorothy wanted to say
Mum, don’t!
but at that moment there were calls to the pianist to play the ‘Hokey-cokey’.

‘You’re going to join in with this, aren’t you, Mr Marshall?’ asked Elsie, taking his arm.

‘Actually, I’ll have to be going,’ said Dougie, tempering his refusal with a smile. ‘I’m on duty very early in the morning and need to get some sleep. I also need to check up on my brothers.’

Elsie looked disappointed. ‘Well, if you must go. Hopefully we’ll see you again soon.’

‘It was nice meeting you, Mrs Gregory,’ he said, before turning to Dorothy. ‘I enjoyed your company. See you again.’

‘Yes, Mr Marshall,’ she replied, his smile doing lovely things to her.

He walked away and mother and daughter watched him go.

‘Well!’ exclaimed Elsie. ‘Good-looking, isn’t he? And with a good steady job. Let’s hope he does make the effort to see you again.’

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