One Rainy Day (32 page)

‘That’s what I like about your mam, Poppy. She can’t tell a lie.’ Marg pushed her chair back and stood up. ‘Or at least if she does tell a lie, she can’t get away with it because her face goes the colour of beetroot.’ She eyed up her friend. ‘I have to say you look very smart, queen. I see yer’ve got make-up on, as well. It suits yer, and makes yer look a lot younger.’

‘Only you could pay someone a compliment with one hand, and take it back with the other,’ Eva said. ‘I look very smart, but without the aid of powder, rouge and lipstick I’d look as old as the hills.’

‘There’s only months difference in our ages, queen, so if I insult you, I insult meself at the same time. More, come to think of it, ’cos I’ve got twice as much powder on as you.’

Poppy tutted. ‘If you two don’t stop talking, and go out, you’ll be little old ladies before you get to the bus stop. So be on your way, vamoose, skedaddle, scram.’

Marg linked Eva’s arm. ‘I think yer daughter wants to see the back of us, queen, and I don’t need the bleeding house to fall on me to take a hint. So, let you and me hit the road, eh? You can take me to the shop where you bought that coat, and keep our fingers crossed there’s one there to suit me.’

Poppy went to the door with them, but she stayed inside the hall. They had a neighbour opposite, Florrie Lawson, who was eighteen stone of trouble. She had a husband and two teenage daughters who were as quiet as mice, but Florrie loved causing trouble, and no one, man or woman, was safe from her tongue. She was common, her language was filthy, and she hadn’t a friend in the street. When she stood on her step, arms folded across her enormous tummy, people would take a detour and use one of the entries rather than pass her house. So as soon as Eva and Marg stepped on to the path, Poppy closed the door behind them. She didn’t go back into the living room, but climbed the stairs and turned the bath tap on. She would indulge herself by lying back in the warm water and think ahead to when she was competent enough to apply for a job with a firm she could be happy working for. Then, after daydreaming for half an hour, she would get dressed and see to the dinner when David was due home. They’d probably have the house to themselves for the afternoon, for she couldn’t see her mam and Marg coming home until about five o’clock. Or perhaps a little earlier if her mam’s feet were tired, or they ran out of money.

Luxuriating in the warm water, Poppy’s mind went through her wardrobe to choose the dress she would wear tonight. It didn’t take long because she only had a couple of decent
dresses. That would change though when she was on a better wage, for she could add to her wardrobe as she went along. Then, with clothes still in her mind, she thought of Charlotte, who always looked smart and attractive. If she did go to Andrew’s office for a cup of tea, as she’d promised Charlotte she would, then a new dress was essential. Not for the world would she turn up like a poor relation. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of thinking she wasn’t as good as him. Charlotte was different. Poppy got on well with her and would like to keep on seeing her, to be a friend. But not Andrew. She’d go to his office, not because he’d invited her, but because of Charlotte’s persuasion. She wouldn’t let the girl down, but the visit would be a one-off.

David opened the front door and was met by the aroma of bacon and sausage. ‘It smells good,’ he called as he took off his coat and hung it in the hall. ‘I didn’t realize I was hungry until I put the key in the door.’

‘You have timed it well, David,’ Poppy shouted from the kitchen. ‘Any later and the egg would have been fried too long, and I know you like the yolk runny.’

David was rubbing his hands as he stood in front of the fire and watched his sister putting the plates down on the table. ‘Chief cook and bottle-washer today, are you?’

‘Chief cook is right, brother dear, but bottle-washer I most certainly am not! I’m going to leave that privilege to you.’ Poppy tilted her head and her curls hung loose around her lovely face. ‘On second thoughts, because you’re my brother and I love you, I’ll go easy on you. I’ll wash and you can dry.’

‘Suits me, Poppy. It will do me good to do a household task. It’s a very small one, I know, but little chores like that will stand me in good stead when I get married.’

Poppy feigned surprise. ‘You can’t get married before me, David! Daughters always get married first.’

‘In that case I could be walking down the aisle when I’m an old man if you hang about. Don’t be too fussy, our kid, ’cos I’ve been thinking about twenty-three or four being a good age for a bloke to get hitched.’

‘Have you got anyone in mind? You’re very mysterious about your girlfriends, David. You never mention a name, or whether you date anyone regularly. Why is that?’

‘Because I don’t date anyone on a regular basis. I haven’t met anyone yet who sets my pulses racing. I’m too fussy. Still, better to be single than married to the wrong one.’

‘I’m not even thinking of tying myself down until I’m turned twenty-one,’ Poppy said. ‘I want to see a bit of life first. Until then I’m going to love them and leave them. Unless what happened to our mam happens to me. She was younger than me when she met our dad, yet they fell in love with each other right away. One look, one touch, and that was it! Nothing like that has happened to me. Of all the blokes I’ve been to the pictures with, or danced with, not one has had me seeing stars.’

‘Not Peter? He’s certainly got it bad where you are concerned. And I think he’s of the opinion you feel the same.’

‘He’s a lovely man, and he’ll make a wonderful husband for some lucky girl. But I’m not that girl, David, I’m afraid. The more I see of him, the more I know he’s not the man for me.’

David pushed his empty plate away. ‘I enjoyed that, our kid. And I’m very relieved to know you can turn your hand to cooking. For if all else fails, and we never find our soulmates because we’re too fussy, we could be stuck with each other for life. So if you do the cooking, I’ll make the beds.’

Poppy laughed. ‘I don’t think it’ll come to that. I have great hopes that I take after our mam. I don’t fancy being left on the shelf, a spinster with a cat for a companion.’

It was David’s turn to laugh. ‘So have I, sis. I’m pinning my hopes on coming across a very pretty girl, with a good sense of humour, who will fall into my arms and swear undying love. Someone I will feel comfortable with, and love. And she’ll come along one day, I know she will.’

For some reason, a mental picture of Charlotte crossed Poppy’s mind. ‘I know a very pretty girl who has a very good sense of humour, and she fits the description of your dream girl perfectly. Unfortunately, she is way out of your league.’

‘Why is she out of my league?’ David’s eyes showed interest. ‘I’m not missing anything. I’ve got one head, two eyes and ears, ten fingers and toes, plus arms and legs and a face that would pass inspection. What more could any girl ask for?’

‘I was only pulling your leg, David, and I’m sorry ’cos it wasn’t remotely funny.’

David pretended to be disappointed. ‘Just my luck. Here was me building my hopes up with the image of a dream girl floating around in my head, and my own sister bursts the bubble and tells me she was only pulling my leg.’ He dropped his head in his hands, and with a long, dramatic sigh, said, ‘I had visions of walking down the aisle with a beautiful girl with blonde hair, wearing a flowing wedding dress and a veil on her head held in place by a diamond tiara.’

Poppy was shaking with quiet laughter. ‘The girl I had in mind doesn’t have blonde hair, it’s more an auburn, and it’s curly.’

‘Is this a real person?’ David asked. ‘You talk about her as though she’s real.’

‘Actually it’s a friend I’ve described. But not a close friend,
so there’s not much chance of my ever bringing her here. She is nice, but there’s thousands of girls as pretty as she is. So start looking around, big boy, and I’m sure it won’t be long before you’re snapped up.’

Poppy reached for her brother’s plate and put it on top of hers with the cutlery. ‘Come on, dear, you’ve had your meal and now it’s time to pay the bill. But I’ll let you off the tip.’

Brother and sister worked in harmony, and in no time at all the dishes were washed, dried, and put away. ‘I’ll make a pot of tea now,’ Poppy said. ‘You go and sit down and read the paper you brought in with you. We can have a few lazy hours before Mam and Marg come home.’

‘Did they say what time they thought they’d be home by?’

‘Mam really didn’t get a chance to say much. You know what Marg is like when she’s in full flow, no one can get a word in. But she is so funny she really cheers me up. And she’s been good for Mam since our dad died. We’ve got a lot to thank Marg for. When the going is tough, she’s always there to help, so I was glad when she asked if I could do something for her for a change. Sarah wants to go to the Grafton, but is too shy to go on her own, so I’ve promised to take her on Tuesday. I haven’t told Peter yet. I don’t think he’ll be very happy.’

‘Anyone can go to the Grafton if they want. It’s open to the public, so Peter couldn’t stop Sarah even if he wanted to. But surely he wouldn’t object to her going. Why should he?’

Poppy didn’t want to tell him how possessive Peter was, and how he didn’t like her dancing with anyone else. It wasn’t fair to him, for although Poppy didn’t like him being so clinging, he was a good man and would never overstep the mark. Oh, I’m sure he’ll be all right about it. And he’ll ask Sarah for a dance if he sees she’s not being asked up.’

Brother and sister spent the next two hours reminiscing.
They talked of their dad, how he used to take them to the park and give them turns on the swings and the seesaw. And they remembered how he used to throw his head back when he laughed at something funny. How gentle he was with them, and how he used to tell them every night, when they were going to bed, that he loved them.

They were deep in conversation when David suddenly cocked an ear and held up a hand to silence his sister. ‘I can hear voices. It must be Mam and Marg. I didn’t expect them back so soon – it’s only four o’clock.’

Poppy jumped to her feet. ‘There’s an argument going on. I can hear Marg’s voice, and I’m sure she’s shouting at Florrie Lawson over the road.’

David was first out of the front door, with Poppy close on his heels. ‘What’s going on, Mam?’ David took hold of his mother’s arm. ‘Don’t waste your time and energy on Mrs Lawson. She’s not worth it.’

However, it wasn’t Eva who was shouting, it was Marg and Florrie Lawson swapping insults with each other.

‘You two been out on the town have yer?’ Florrie looked fearsome, standing with her feet apart, her huge arms crossed and resting on her enormous tummy. She was wearing an old-fashioned mob cap, and a wraparound pinny with a large safety pin keeping it fastened. And on her chubby face there was a look of satisfaction. For Florrie liked nothing better than a fight: it was more exciting than going to the pictures. It wasn’t often she got the chance to trap her neighbours into a confrontation, for they kept out of her way. The only one brave enough to take her on in a slanging match was Marg Boden.

‘What’s it got to do with you where we’ve been?’ Marg asked, putting her shopping bags on the pavement by her feet. ‘Get inside and mind yer own business, yer nosy cow.’

David stepped in front of his mother and reached for Marg’s arm. ‘Come inside, Marg. She’s goading you on, looking for a fight. Don’t give her the satisfaction.’

‘I’ll give her more than satisfaction, lad. I’ll give her a black eye if she doesn’t shut her bleeding mouth.’

‘I’d like to see yer try,’ Florrie shouted across. ‘You and yer mate there come walking up the street in yer new coats and think yer own the place. Talk about mutton dressed as lamb isn’t in it. Yer look like a couple of tarts.’

David tried once again to cool things down. ‘Mam, will you and Marg come in the house, please.’

Eva shook her head. ‘I wouldn’t miss this for the world, son. It’s about time someone took on Florrie Lawson. I wouldn’t ’cos I’m a coward. But I’ll help Marg out if she gets stuck.’ Eva patted David’s cheek. ‘Don’t worry, lad, no one is going to come to any harm. Florrie’s all mouth. She trades insults with everyone from her path. It never comes to fisticuffs, only name-calling.’

Marg was enjoying herself. In all the years she and Eva had lived in the street, they’d put up with the shenanigans of the woman opposite. They’d never really retaliated, only to tell her to shut up. Now she was going to get a taste of her own medicine. ‘Yer’ve set me thinking, Florrie. When yer said me and Eva were mutton dressed as lamb, I got to wondering what animals you reminded me of. And I’ve fitted you out perfectly. Yer’ve got the body of a rhinoceros, and the skin of an elephant. And if yer think I’m exaggerating, go inside and take a good look in the mirror. Stand well back, though, ’cos if the mirror cracks with fright, yer might end up getting bits of glass in yer face. And yer really can’t afford to look any uglier than you are, or yer’ll frighten the postman.’

Florrie was blazing. She wasn’t going to let that go, or her
status as a woman to be feared would be in jeopardy. She could see curtains twitching and realized half the street was listening, so her reputation was at stake. With a roar like a lion, she stepped down on to the path. ‘I’ll break yer bleeding neck, talking to me like that. Come on, yer stupid cow, let’s see what ye’re made of. Yer’ll wonder what’s hit yer by the time I’m finished with yer.’

‘Oh, aye! You and whose army, yer daft cow?’ Marg shrugged off David’s restraining arm and started to cross the street towards her adversary. ‘Stay where yer are, Florrie. I don’t want yer to tire yerself out, so I’m coming to you.’

Florrie was waving her arms, the fat swinging from side to side, as torrents of threats, complete with bad language, poured from her mouth. She was going to blacken both of Marg’s eyes, break her nose and knock out every tooth in her head. That was until she saw Marg hand her new coat to Eva, then roll up her sleeves as she neared Florrie’s gate. It was then the big woman realized she was dealing with someone who was more than a match for her. And she decided she couldn’t fight with her false teeth in, in case they got broken and she couldn’t afford a new set. To take the teeth out and put them in her pocket would make her a laughing stock. So she did the unthinkable. With a speed she’d never moved at before, she reached her gate before the enemy, and closed it quickly.