The Runaway (18 page)

‘Self-confidence goes down the drain when you’re out of work for weeks and weeks,’ Polly said gloomily. ‘Don’t I know it! But if it’s all right with you I’ll go round to the hostel when we finish here.’

‘Suits me,’ Dana said at once. ‘Only haven’t you noticed? He’s been walking up and down the street outside for the last ten minutes and peering into the washhouse every now and then. I’m surprised you haven’t spotted him.’

‘I’ve better things to do,’ Polly said loftily, but rather spoiled this high-handed remark by adding: ‘Next time you see him, give me a nudge and I’ll run and waylay him. He can come with us and carry our messages, if you don’t mind, that is.’

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, stop shilly-shallying; you know very well you’ve every intention of asking your friend to supper,’ Dana said, smiling at her. ‘As for carrying our shopping, he’s more than welcome to do that.’ She left
the mangle and darted across to the open door. ‘Hey, Ernie, don’t rush off; there’s a pal of yours in here wants a word.’ She waited until the young man had turned and headed towards her, then popped back into the washhouse and gave Polly a push. ‘Go on, invite him to supper,’ she hissed, and watched with approval as the two young people began an animated conversation.

Then they parted, but before he left Ernie raised a hand and, staring straight at Dana, shouted: ‘Thanks for the invite. See you later, queen!’

Half an hour later, when the girls emerged from the washhouse with the clean but damp linen in the laundry basket, Ernie was waiting. He insisted upon taking one end of the basket and scarcely sagged at all beneath its weight, though Dana, grinning to herself, thought that he would be glad to relinquish it when they reached Temperance Court. The three of them chatted idly, mostly about the difficulties of managing on the small amounts of money employers paid. But it soon became obvious to Dana, and had probably been obvious to Polly all along, that Ernie had some news which he was dying to impart.

Finally, when they had returned from their shopping trip and were unloading the provisions they had bought into a cupboard they used as a pantry, Polly put the kettle on the Primus stove, pushed Ernie into a chair and stood menacingly opposite him. ‘What’s up?’ she demanded bluntly. ‘You’ve been like a cat what’s got into the dairy and found a pan of cream ever since we axed you to supper. You’ve gorra job, haven’t you? Oh, Ernie, I hope it’s a good ‘un.’ She turned to Dana, her face glowing. ‘What do you think, Dee? We’re all after
work and I reckon he’s beat the pair of us. C’mon, Ernie, cough up!’

Ernie looked bashfully from face to face. ‘Well, you’re right in one way,’ he said. ‘Only it’s not straightforward exactly. I applied to join the army. I shan’t mention the asthma, and though I’m small for me age I’m pretty strong. Other fellers from the hostel have signed on for one of the services, and though we’re none of us built like Johnny Weissmuller they’ve all been accepted, so I reckon I’ll be the same.’

The two girls stared at him, speechless. ‘Oh, gosh,’ Dana said at last when it seemed obvious that Polly had been struck dumb. ‘I think that’s awfully brave of you, Ernie. Everyone’s talking about a war; one of my customers at the fish stall told me they’ve got to stop Herr Hitler from annexing any more countries in Europe otherwise we’ll find ourselves entertaining storm troopers or being bombed like Madrid.’

Ernie looked gratified. ‘My father were a soldier, a gunner,’ he said eagerly. ‘And it’s all found; they gives you three square meals a day and all your uniform.’ He turned to Polly. ‘Of course, I might have to go abroad if this here war starts, like soldiers did in the last war, but France isn’t that far away and I’ll come home for me furloughs.’

Polly sniffed but Dana could see she was pleased. However, it seemed she did not mean to let on. ‘Don’t count your chickens,’ she said gruffly. ‘You ain’t in yet. Then there’s that there asthma of yours – but mebbe they’ll overlook it.’ She must have become aware of the disappointed look on her friend’s face, Dana thought, for she suddenly put both arms round Ernie’s neck and
kissed him on his cheek. ‘Oh, don’t listen to me; I think you’re brilliant, Ernie Frost. I’m sure they’ll take you in the army, but if they don’t, you just try the Navy, or even the air force. Everyone says there’s going to be a war and Mr Rathbone – he’s the grocer I deliver for once in a while – says that them as volunteer will be trained to do a proper job, whereas them as is conscripted won’t have no choice.’

‘But they’ll only conscript fellers once they’re certain sure that war is coming,’ Dana felt impelled to point out. ‘Still, I’m sure you’ve done the sensible thing, Ernie. You must tell us as soon as you’ve passed the medical and are given a posting.’

‘Given a posting?’ Polly said blankly. ‘What does that mean when it’s at home?’

‘It means that once he’s passed the medical he’ll know where the army are going to send him for basic training,’ Dana said patiently. ‘Goodness, Ernie might go anywhere in Britain.’ She smiled at Polly’s shocked countenance. ‘Oh, Poll, you didn’t think he’d stay in Liverpool, did you? Well, he might be sent back here, I suppose, but I believe soldiers do basic training for the first six months of their service.’

‘Cor!’ Ernie exclaimed, making it all too clear that he, too, had not expected to be sent away from the city. ‘Oh, but six months ain’t long when you come to think of it, and once I’m trained then I dare say there’s a fair chance I’ll be sent somewhere near here …’ he turned to Dana, clearly considering her a mine of useful information, ‘wouldn’t you say?’

Dana judged it best to agree, and she and Polly began the preparations for their meal, though Ernie insisted
that he should scrub the potatoes and fetch in water from the big brass tap at the end of the court. ‘Might as well make meself useful whilst I’m still around,’ he said rather gloomily. ‘I’m goin’ to say I’m experienced wi’ motor cars, which is true, after all, then mebbe I’ll be a mechanic, or better still, a driver!’

‘You’re experienced in peeling spuds,’ Polly said truthfully but cruelly. ‘Better watch out, chuck, or you’ll find yourself in the cookhouse, choppin’ onions and weepin’ into your stew.’

Fortunately, Ernie thought this a great joke, and presently the three of them sat down to meat pie, mashed potatoes and cabbage, with apple pie for afters. Then Dana suggested that they might listen to the wireless and catch up on the news, but Ernie shook his head. ‘It’s been grand, and you two must be the best cooks in Liverpool, but I thought I might take Poll to see a flick; then I want to get back to tell the fellers in me dormy that I’m to have a medical for to join the army.’ He took his cap and jacket off the hook by the door and helped Polly into her coat, then turned to Dana. ‘I know I’ve not said much but I’m real grateful for the way you’ve looked after our Polly,’ he said gruffly. ‘And I’ll feel a whole lot happier joinin’ the army knowin’ you’re goin’ to keep an eye on her. If – if she gets in any trouble I guess you’d let me know.’

Dana laughed and said of course she would, then waved the pair off, tuned the wireless set and made herself comfortable, even brewing another pot of tea so that she could greet Polly on her return with a hot drink and a biscuit.

*

As soon as Polly and Ernie left Temperance Court, Ernie put his arm round Polly’s waist and gave her a squeeze. ‘I ain’t gorra deal of money but I’m savin’ up so’s I can buy you a ring,’ he said. ‘I don’t want some perishin’ civilian stealin’ you when I’m far away, fightin’ for me country in foreign parts.’ He turned and nuzzled his face into Polly’s neck, giving her a rather wet kiss. ‘Want to go to the flicks? It’ll have to be the stalls, but I’ve got enough money for that, or for the Daulby Hall if you fancy a dance.’

Polly gave him an indignant shove and rubbed her neck vigorously where his kiss had landed. ‘Stop it, Ernie. We’re both too young to start getting serious,’ she said severely. ‘Besides, for all you know, the army may turn you down. What’s on at the flicks anyway?’

‘And you a film fan!’ Ernie marvelled, grinning. ‘I never met anyone who knew as much about the cinema as you do, Polly Smith, but if you’d rather we could go dancing. Then I could hold you in me arms …’

‘Oh, Ernie, do shurrup, talkin’ so soppy,’ Polly said impatiently. ‘As you’ve guessed, I’d much rather go to the flicks than go dancin’. How
could
I go dancin’ in my workin’ skirt and blouse, come to that? But if you’ve got it into your head that you can maul me about in one of them double seats at the back of the stalls, you can bleedin’ well think again. You’re right, I am a film fan, and that means I like to watch the screen without any silly distractions, so now you know the score.’

‘I thought the score said that if you took a girl to the flicks – or a dance hall for that matter – you was entitled to a bit of a kiss and a cuddle,’ Ernie said sulkily. ‘I don’t see why you’re bein’ so bleedin difficult.’ Another
thought struck him and he pulled Polly to a stop. ‘And what do you mean, the army might not accept me? You’ve got a flamin’ cheek! How can you suggest that they might turn down me manly charms? I tell you, you want to make the most of me whilst you’ve got the chance! Once I’m in uniform I’ll have me pick of every girl what passes. So now, shall it be the Commodore? It’s early, I know, but we can see the main feature round twice, if you like. It’s
The Prince and the Pauper
, starrin’ that Flynn feller.’

‘Oh, then let’s get a move on,’ Polly said. She grinned at Ernie. ‘Errol Flynn, eh? I’ve not seen him yet, apart from his photograph in the magazines, but they say he’s even better than Douglas Fairbanks. Cor, I can’t wait.’

By the time Polly and Ernie left the cinema fog had come drifting up from the river and it was definitely not a nice night to be abroad. The film, however, had lived up to Polly’s expectations; all she wanted to do was to go over the story and discuss the charms of Errol Flynn, his magnificent physique and his brilliant acting, whilst what Ernie wanted was the kiss and cuddle that Polly had sternly forbidden him, even in the back row of the stalls. ‘But no one can see,’ he had objected, a hand sliding hopefully down from Polly’s slender shoulder. ‘The usherette’s gone away …’

‘Gerroff!’ Polly had said sharply, her voice loud enough to cause Ernie’s hand to fly from her arm as though of its own accord. ‘I told you, Ernie Frost, I didn’t want none of that. Keep your bleedin’ hands to yourself, or I’ll be forced to punch you on the snout.’

This remark, uttered far too loudly for Ernie’s peace of mind, had caused a good deal of muffled giggling,
whilst people in the row in front turned to stare. Naturally enough this annoyed both parties, but when Ernie began to expostulate Polly reminded him of her earlier strictures. ‘We’re pals; bezzies you could say,’ she told him. ‘And if you want it to stay that way, keep your hands to yourself.’

Ernie had mumbled a protest, but by the time they left the cinema all was forgotten and forgiven. Ernie had mugged them both to a choc ice, Polly’s favourite food, and when he saw the mists swirling up from the river he offered to buy them two penn’orth of chips, for by this time the delicious stew and mashed potatoes was only a distant memory. So Ernie bought the chips and all might have been well had he not manoeuvred his pal into a convenient jigger, where he began once more to engage in the activity described by Polly as mauling her about and by Ernie as a kiss and a cuddle. In Polly’s efforts to free herself her elbow met Ernie’s left eye with a resounding and painful
clunk
. Ernie squawked with pain, his hand flying to his injured eye, whilst chips flew everywhere. Poor Ernie, his eye watering freely said crossly, ‘Now look what you’ve done, you halfwit!’

But Polly did not mean to accept the blame. She gave him a shove which sent him staggering back against a brick wall and marched towards the nearest tram stop. ‘I warned you what would happen if you kept on, but did you listen?’ she demanded wrathfully. ‘Oh, and I were lookin’ forward to them chips; I’m that hungry me belly thinks me throat’s been cut.’

‘It weren’t my fault, it were all your doin’,’ Ernie said, mopping his sore eye. ‘I don’t know as I want you for me girlfriend, Polly Smith. All I done was to give you a
grand evenin’ out and what’s me reward? An eyeful of elbow and me chips scattered to the four winds and not a word of apology.’

Polly began to say, grudgingly, that though it was mostly his own fault she had not meant to elbow him in the eye, but at this inopportune moment a tram clattered to a halt beside them and Polly saw from its destination board that it was the one which would carry Ernie to his very door. She gave him a rather unkind shove. ‘Oh, go and get aboard, you idiot,’ she said crossly. ‘It’s foggy, and the trams will stop runnin’ any minute.’

‘I can’t just buzz off …’ Ernie began, but Polly cut across his words.

‘Will you bleedin’ well go? You can see I don’t want you hangin’ about,’ she said crossly. ‘Don’t you know when you aren’t wanted? Oh, here comes mine! Cheerio, Ernie. See you tomorrer.’

Still protesting, but less forcibly, Ernie climbed aboard his tram. As the vehicle pulled away he turned and mouthed something at his erstwhile companion, but Polly, as her tram drew up beside her, simply ignored him completely. She was still cross, knowing that the death of the chips had been her fault yet blaming Ernie nevertheless. Indeed, she never even waved as Ernie’s conveyance disappeared into the mist. Instead, she leapt aboard her own almost empty tram and settled herself in one of the seats with a sigh of satisfaction. The film had been wonderful, but Ernie’s behaviour had marred her enjoyment and she knew that the incident of the chips would be difficult for either of them to forget. It was all very well for her to blame Ernie, but if she were honest she knew that most boys expected certain favours
in return for taking a girl dancing or to a cinema. To be sure, she had explained to Ernie over and over that she did not want a boyfriend, but he had been difficult to convince. Now, however, perhaps he would believe her, in which case they could remain good friends. Once he was in the army, of course, she supposed he would consider himself a man; at any rate their relationship would change. Either he would be a proper boyfriend or they would part company, and right now she realised she was too tired to consider which outcome she would prefer. It was at this point that the conductor, who had been chatting to his driver, came swaying down the aisle of the tram, yawning behind his hand. ‘Fares please, chuck,’ he said laconically. ‘Filthy perishin’ night, ain’t it? This ’un’s probably the last tram tonight.’