One Rainy Day (31 page)

Marg opened her mouth, but Poppy beat her to it. ‘Don’t be daft, Mam! A bit of make-up isn’t going to make you look like a tart. I’ll do it for you, and you’ll see what I mean. You don’t have to put it on with a trowel, like some do. Just a trace of powder, a touch of rouge, and a hint of lipstick, that’s all you need. You’ve got a lovely complexion, Mam, and you don’t look your age, so go out and enjoy life.’ Poppy turned to Marg and winked. ‘I hope you don’t try to lead my mother astray, Mrs Boden.’

‘Ay, listen, queen, if I get the chance to lead yer mam astray, then I will. But I will promise she won’t be on her own when she goes astray, I’ll be right with her. We’re mates, and we’ll stick together like glue.’ Marg leaned across the table and squeezed Eva’s hand. ‘You leave it to me, queen, and yer won’t go far wrong. I’m fussy I am, and unless we’re approached by an Errol Flynn or Gregory Peck lookalike, then we won’t bother.’

‘I was quite looking forward to a day out,’ Eva said. ‘But with all this talk of make-up, and being led astray by anyone who resembles a film star, well, I’m thinking twice about it now.’ She chuckled inside herself. ‘I mean, I don’t even like Errol Flynn or Gregory Peck. Now if it was Robert Taylor that would be a different thing altogether. I’d happily walk off into the sunset with him.’

Marg jerked her head and rolled her eyes. ‘Your mam doesn’t want much, does she? Robert Taylor indeed. If we’re talking high stakes here, I’d give her a run for her money. And I’ll tell yer what, queen, when it comes to the push, I’m a bleeding good runner.’

Eva gave her daughter a gentle kick under the table, before saying to her neighbour, ‘Marg Boden, if you want us to dress up posh on Saturday, best bib and tucker, can yer tell me what good it would do if you’re going to come out with language like that? Talk about going into Reece’s for lunch, I’d be hanging me head in shame if you said to the waitress, “Where’s the bleeding sugar?” I wouldn’t know where to put meself.’

‘I’ll be on me best behaviour, queen, I promise. I won’t lick me fingers when I’m eating a cream slice, and I won’t drink me tea out of the saucer, either. I know when to use me manners, queen, so yer don’t need to worry on that score.’

‘Oh, well that’s a relief,’ Eva said. ‘If yer start to make a holy show of yerself, I’ll pretend I’m not with yer.’

‘Some mate you are then, if ye’re going to turn tail and run at the first sign of trouble.’

‘I thought the whole idea of going into town was to buy you a new coat, Marg?’ Poppy said. ‘You’re the only person I know who can go from buying a coat to getting into a fight with me mam over Robert Taylor! Not to mention your promise not to swear, lick your fingers in a restaurant, or
drink tea out of a saucer. That takes some beating, Marg, even by your standards.’

‘It’s a habit I’ve got into, queen, and I don’t notice meself doing it. Yer see I started just after I got married. I got bored being at home all day, ’cos we didn’t have any children then. So I started going to the pictures every afternoon to pass the time away. But I never told Ally because there were lots of things we needed in the house, and he would have gone mad at me going to a matinee every afternoon when the money would have been better spent on buying sheets or towels, which we were short of.’

When Marg told a tale, she really made a meal of it, and went into every little detail. Not that her audience ever minded, for not only were her tales funny, but so were her facial expressions. She could do more contortions with her face than any acrobat. ‘So when he used to come in from work and ask me what I’d been doing with meself, I used to make things up. And I’d keep on talking so he didn’t have a chance to get a word in edgeways. And it became such a habit, I’ve never got out of it.’

‘Have yer ever tried, sweetheart?’ Eva asked.

Marg chuckled. ‘How can I stop talking non-stop after all these years? Ally would think there was something wrong with me if I sat with me mouth shut for any length of time. He’d think I was sick, or he was going deaf.’

Poppy and her mother laughed at their neighbour’s expressions. Life was never dull when Marg was around. She had a fantastic sense of humour, and always saw the funny side of life. But there was a serious side to her as well. She was always ready to help in times of trouble, never asking if you needed help, but just getting stuck in. A true friend.

‘You don’t know how lucky you are with your husband,
sweetheart,’ Eva told her. ‘There’s not many blokes as easy-going as Ally. He’s one in a million.’

‘Yes, I do know that, queen.’ Marg looked at the clock. ‘Oh, my God, I didn’t realize it was so late! Ally will be doing his nut. It’s nearly time for bed, and he won’t go up those stairs until he’s had a cup of tea, and a last cigarette.’ She pushed her chair back, nearly toppling it over. ‘Why didn’t you tell me how late it was?’

‘It’s hard to stop you when you’re in full flow, Marg,’ Poppy told her. ‘It would be easier to stop a twenty-two tram than it would be to stop you.’ She smiled when she added, ‘But we love the bones of yer.’

‘Well, before I go back and humour my feller, I’d better tell yer what I came for in the first place.’

Eva and Poppy gaped. ‘You told us what yer came for, sweetheart, so hadn’t yer better get back to yer husband? I’ll be ready at half ten, when yer call for me on Saturday morning.’

‘No! I didn’t come especially for that! Yer know, sometimes me mouth takes over and I don’t know whether I’m coming or going. What I came for was to ask Poppy a favour for our Sarah. She’s a bit on the shy side, and she didn’t like asking you herself. She wants to know if she could come to the Grafton with you one night? She can dance, but she’s never been to a big dance hall like the Grafton. She wouldn’t hang on to yer all night, ’cos she knows yer’ve got a boyfriend, but she needs someone to walk in with. Would yer mind, queen? I know it’s a lot to ask when you’ve got this Peter feller with yer, but it would only be for the one night, just to get over her shyness.’

‘Of course I wouldn’t mind her coming with me, and I’m sure Peter wouldn’t mind. I know a couple of lads there, so I’d
see she wasn’t left like a wallflower all night. Tell Sarah I’ll be going on Tuesday, and if that’s all right, I’ll call for her. It can’t be Monday, ’cos that’s one of the nights I go to night school, but Tuesday would be fine. And it’s a good night, not as crowded as it is at the weekend.’

‘Thanks, queen. Our Sarah will be over the moon. She’ll see yer herself before then, anyway. So I’ll love yer and leave yer now, and go and soothe my feller’s brow. Then I’ll put the kettle on and make us a nice cuppa to have with our last cigarette of the day. See yer on Saturday, girls. Goodnight and God bless.’

Poppy saw their neighbour out, and came back to find her mother striking a match under the kettle. ‘Tea up in five minutes, sweetheart. Give the fire a poke, will yer, to brighten the room up. It’s no good putting more coal on – it would be a waste seeing as we’ll be going to bed soon.’

Just then they heard a key in the lock. ‘Here’s your son and heir, Mam,’ Poppy said. ‘I’m sure he can smell tea a mile away.’

David came in rubbing his hands. ‘It’s chilly out. I’ll be glad when summer comes, with the light nights.’

‘Been out with a girl, have you, brother dear?’ Poppy helped him off with his overcoat, and then carried it through to hang it on one of the row of hooks. ‘You’re a bit of a mystery where your female friends are concerned. You’ve never brought one home to meet the family.’

‘You’re a fine one to talk, sis! What about you and Peter? You’ve never brought him home to meet Mam. I’ve got a good excuse for not bringing a girl home, and that is because when I do finally bring one here, it will be the one I’m quite sure I want to spend the rest of my life with.’

Eva had poured a cup of tea out for David, and when she
carried it through to the living room she smiled at Poppy. ‘Your brother has got it all sorted out the way he wants it.’ She put the cup down before asking, ‘But what about you, sweetheart? Will you be bringing Peter to meet me? Is he the one for you?’

‘As a matter of fact, Mam, you’ll meet him on Saturday night, because he’s calling for me. But don’t read anything into it – or you, David – because calling for me doesn’t mean anything. Peter is as nice a bloke as you’ll ever come across, but I’m not sure what my feelings for him really are. I’m nineteen and he is six years older than me. He has had the time to do what all young people want to do, and that is to enjoy all the good things that life offers. When I’ve lived another six years I’ll know, through experience, what I want, and who I want it with, for the rest of my life.’

‘Don’t go out with anyone just because you are afraid to hurt their feelings, sweetheart; that wouldn’t be fair to either of you. Go out with boys by all means. Enjoy yourself while ye’re young enough to do the things all young people do. Youth is fleeting, sweetheart, so get the most out of it while yer can. But try not to hurt anyone in the process.’

‘I wouldn’t knowingly hurt anyone, Mam, I couldn’t do that. But neither do I want to marry a man who I don’t love, but will be tied to for the rest of my life.’

You’re being sensible, Poppy,’ David said’. You’ve had the same boring, low-paid job since you left school. You haven’t lived yet, don’t know what life is all about. So give yourself a break and make up your mind to get as much enjoyment out of life as you can.’ He chucked his sister lightly on the chin. ‘Peter did seem to be a good bloke, steady and reliable. But perhaps it’s not steady and reliable you want at nineteen years of age. So don’t be talked or persuaded into doing anything
you’re not happy with.’ He waved his hand. ‘Like me, wait until the right one comes along.’

Eva was nodding in agreement as her son was speaking. She wanted the best for her beautiful daughter, and the best was true love. ‘Don’t dwell on it, sweetheart. You’ve got all the time in the world to worry about settling down. Just remember what I’ve told you many times. When the right man for you comes along, you’ll have no doubts, yer’ll know right away. And it’ll be the most wonderful experience yer’ll ever have in yer life.’

‘I’ve never forgotten what you told me about the first time you met Dad. And I’ll never settle for anyone who doesn’t measure up to him. As soon as I get that tingle down my spine, and go weak in the knees, you’ll be the very first to know.’

It was Poppy who opened the door at half past ten on the Saturday morning, to find their neighbour looking up at her. And she had to smile when Marg pushed her aside with a cheery, ‘Top of the morning to yer, queen. I hope yer mam is all titivated up and raring to go. If she’s not, I’ll have a cup of tea with yer while I’m waiting.’

Poppy was still in her dressing gown, for she didn’t work on a Saturday and always indulged herself with a lie-in, followed by a leisurely breakfast, then a lovely soak in the bath. ‘I’m not long up, Marg. I’ve still got sleep in my eyes. Saturday is an easy day for me; I don’t get dressed until the afternoon. So if you’re after a cup of tea, you’re going to have to make it yourself. Mam is upstairs getting ready; she won’t be long.’

‘I’ll leave the tea, then, queen. I couldn’t be bothered putting the kettle on.’ Marg pulled out a chair from the table, and plonked herself down. ‘Anyway, it’s coming to something when a visitor is told to make their own tea. It’s not very welcoming, queen, or polite. It’s enough to make anyone feel unwanted, like. Could even give them an inferiority complex. If I was the timid type, I’d be cut to the quick.’

‘Then I’m glad you’re not the timid type, Marg, because Saturday is the day I get to lounge around in me dressing
gown, before having me breakfast. I have a routine, you see, and I stick to it.’

‘Oh, aye, queen, and what is your routine? If I like it, I might even copy it, ’cos I’m bleeding hopeless when it comes to planning. I promise meself every day that I’ll do so-and-so the next day, but I never stick to it. I’ve got no willpower, yer see, queen. I’m away with the fairies half the time.’

Poppy pulled out a chair and sat facing her neighbour. ‘What will Ally have for his dinner when he gets home from work? Have you left anything for him?’

‘Of course I have, queen. I wouldn’t let him come home from work to fresh air sandwiches. My Ally is easy-going, but he’s not that easy-going. The air would be blue if there was nothing to eat, and I’m gadding about town, spending his money. He’d have a duck egg.’

Poppy waited to hear what Marg had left for her husband to eat, but her neighbour appeared to think the subject had been dealt with. So, being curious, Poppy asked, ‘What have yer left for Ally’s dinner, Marg?’

A pan of stew on a low light, queen. Lucy said she’ll keep an eye on it so it doesn’t burn. She’s good like that, is our Lucy.’ Marg lowered her voice, and her eyes surveyed the room as though what she had to say was for Poppy’s ears only. ‘I hate to admit it, queen, but our Lucy is a better cook than me. When the stew is ready, half an hour before Ally gets home, she’s going to put some dumplings in, and my feller will get a meal fit for a king. When I make dumplings, they’re as heavy as lead, but our Lucy’s are so light they could float.’

Marg had been so busy talking she hadn’t heard footsteps on the stairs, and she was startled when a voice behind her said, ‘Don’t you ever run out of topics to talk about?’

With a hand on her heart, Marg said, ‘You silly beggar! Yer
nearly gave me a heart attack, sneaking up on me like that.’

‘Oh, I’m glad yer didn’t have a heart attack, sweetheart,’ Eva said. ‘Just think of the shock Ally would get, if I had to be the bearer of such bad news. He wouldn’t enjoy the stew, and it would be wasted. It would have to be thrown in the bin with Lucy’s dumplings.’

Marg kept the stern expression on her face. ‘How long have you been standing there? I bet you haven’t been as thoughtful as me, and you’re probably feeling guilty about your David coming home to find no nice smell of dinner coming from the kitchen.’

‘Ah, well, now.’ Eva smiled. ‘Stew is a lovely smell, I agree, and it does take a couple of hours to cook. Whereas bacon, sausage and egg have an equally inviting aroma, and they only take twenty minutes to cook. So Poppy will be serving David and herself an appetizing meal, with fruit and cream for afters.’ Eva held up an open palm. ‘Before yer say anything, sweetheart, I’ll admit the fruit will be out of a tin, and the cream will be evaporated milk, also out of a tin.’