Maude’s door was painted red, a colour she must have got from someone doing a bit of black-market dealing, and it stood out from the others on the street which were mainly black or dark blue. The knocker and letterbox were both shiny brass and there was a white wire milk-bottle holder next to the pristine doorstep. The windows were always gleaming and Maude’s net curtains were crisp white. Glenda inwardly smiled as she pictured what lay behind the ostentatious front door. The house was overfilled with crystal ornaments and carnival glass bowls, remnants of the Romany heritage that Maude strongly denied. But all the family had dark hair and swarthy skin and, although Maude tried to pass them off as Spanish, Harry had confided in Glenda about their real roots.
Maude greeted Glenda with a warm smile and ushered her up the hallway towards the small kitchen at the back of the house.
‘Here’s your little mite,’ Maude said, beaming, ‘snug as a bug in a rug. I put him in here next to the stove ’cos it’s warmer. He’s been as good as gold for his old Nan. He was a bit whiney this morning, but I rubbed a drop of whisky on his gums and he’s been as happy as a sandboy.’
Glenda silently seethed. She hated that Maude would use her old-wives’-tale remedies on Johnnie and had asked Harry on many occasions to have a word with her. But Harry’s response was always the same: it never did him any harm when he was growing up.
‘Thanks, Maude,’ Glenda answered, hoping she sounded sincere. ‘You’re so good with him. I don’t know what I’d do without you.’
‘It’s just experience, my girl. When you’ve had four of your own, you know a thing or two about rearing the little sods! Cor, my Harry was a little tyke! He used to run rings round me. And you’d have thought that with him being the last born I would’ve known better. Anyway, sit yourself down. I’ll make us a cuppa.’
Glenda was desperate to pick Johnnie up from his pram and hold his soft body to hers but she resisted, knowing that Maude would berate her for disturbing the child whilst he slept. Instead, she took her coat off and slowly eased herself onto one of the four wooden chairs.
‘You all right there?’ asked Maude, frowning as she looked at Glenda’s discomfort.
‘Yes, I’m fine, thanks, Maude. I just slipped getting out of the bath last night. Caught my side on the edge.’
Glenda could see Maude’s disbelieving expression and knew she was going to get some motherly advice.
‘If you say so –’ Maude shook her head ‘– but I know that boy of mine has been at it again. I’m right, ain’t I?’
‘No, Maude, honest. He’s been really good lately. He’s hardly raised a hand to me since Johnnie’s been born.’
‘I don’t believe you. Sorry, gal, but your puffed cheek tells me a different story. So come on, what happened this time?’
Glenda’s heart sank. There was no hiding anything from this woman, but she would never give Glenda any sympathy. In fact, it was almost as if she blamed Glenda for Harry’s outbursts.
‘It was the usual thing, Maude, too much alcohol. It’s always when Harry’s had a drink, you know that. The rest of the time he’s lovely, and he’s so good with little Johnnie. I just don’t know what to do.’ A tear slipped down her cheek which she quickly wiped away, hoping that Maude hadn’t noticed.
‘Well, firstly, you can stop that snivelling. That won’t do any good,’ said Maude firmly as she stirred the tea cups. ‘I’ve told you before, Harry’s just like his father. My Bob tried putting me in my place, more than once in fact. But I showed him, waited for the bugger to fall asleep then hit him square in the face with me frying pan. Broke his nose, I did. And of course he couldn’t tell his mates at the wood yard that it was a woman that did it to him. He made out he got jumped in the back alley by two big blokes. I told him, if he ever laid a hand on me again, I would cut his bloody knackers off.’
Maude paused for a moment, took a slurp of tea and said, ‘You’ve gotta stand up to Harry. Show him you ain’t no pushover. I know he can be a handful, he always has been, but I used to get the broomstick out to him when he was a nipper. I bet he would still bloody run now if he saw me with it.’
Maude began to chuckle, but Glenda couldn’t find it in herself to laugh. Harry was nothing like his father as Maude had suggested. Bob was a quiet, gentle man whose only vice was his Saturday-morning flutter on the horses. Maude was a strong woman who ruled over him. Some would call him henpecked, but Glenda thought he seemed happy enough to do as he was told. Maybe because he liked a quiet life, one in which he didn’t have to think for himself.
If anything, Glenda thought, Harry was more like his mother. Maude had raised her four boys in fear of the strap and had taught them to hit first and ask questions later. Out of all of Harry’s siblings, Glenda had only met the eldest brother, Len, and his wife Connie. The other two brothers always seemed to be on the road somewhere or another. She had heard they were both prize bare-knuckle fighters, which unnerved her a little. Len seemed nice enough, though, albeit a know-it-all. She wasn’t too sure about Connie. The woman came across as cold and stuck-up but apart from Christmas Glenda didn’t have to socialise with them much.
Maude’s family were tough and had a bit of a reputation. In fact, most of the women on the street only spoke to Maude out of fear and politeness rather than chatted because they liked her. She had caused many a fight in her younger days, slapping down any woman who even so much as looked at her the wrong way. And even now, in her later years, Maude was still a powerful force to be reckoned with, and her large frame meant she certainly had the strength to back up her fierce mouth.
‘It’s not as easy as that, Maude. He’s too strong for me to fight back and I’m sure if I did I would end up twice as bad.’
‘Well, if you ain’t prepared to fight him, you’ve gotta stop giving him cause to hit you. What set him off last night? Something happen down the Castle, did it?’
Glenda paused to sip her hot tea. Was it her fault again? She had been a bit of a killjoy when Harry had wanted to dance. And she had run out on him. But all that about Billy Myers? Yes, she had looked over at him, not in that way of course, but Harry wasn’t to know that. Maybe it was down to her. Harry always said she pressed the wrong buttons, just like last week with his dinner. Throwing good food in the bin, wasting his hard-earned cash. She hadn’t wanted to make love last night either, but she knew it was her duty as his wife. Not that what Harry had done to her could be described as anything like making love, she thought, wincing at the memory.
‘Maybe,’ Glenda answered as she realised that by now she should know what her husband was like. She should be able to please him instead of continually making him angry. ‘Now I think about it, Maude, maybe I was a bit moody last night. He was still out of order for hitting me, but I suppose I asked for it really.’
‘There you are. You know what starts him off so make sure you don’t do it again. Harry’s a good man, Glenda. You could have done a lot worse. Blimey, when I think of all the girls that used to come sniffing round my doorstep for him. He was a bit of a catch, you know. And now look at him – working hard for you and Johnnie, doing that bricklaying in all weathers, and, like you said, he’s a proper good dad. All right, so he likes a pint after work, but he bloody well deserves it after grafting all day. He doesn’t smoke, he doesn’t gamble and I know he wouldn’t go chasing after any skirt. You’ve got a good ’un there, my girl. You’ve just gotta learn not to wind him up.’
‘Thanks, Maude, I appreciate your advice, but please don’t say anything to him about this. Like you say, I don’t want to wind him up again.’
‘Mum’s the word!’ Maude answered as she pursed her lips and pretended to zip them.
As she drained the last of her tea, Glenda thought about getting home and making sure the house was spotless for when Harry finished work, with fresh sheets on the bed, dinner on the table and her looking ravishing. She couldn’t fight her husband, but she could make sure that she didn’t give him a reason to knock her about again.
Chapter 2
Billy Myers pulled up the collar of his long trenchcoat, shielding his face from the chilly wind. He had been hanging around on the high street for nearly an hour, dodging anyone who might recognise him. After all, he couldn’t risk it getting back to his foreman that he was well enough to go shopping but was too sick to work.
As he stamped his feet to relieve the numbness, he saw Glenda Jenkins standing at the crossing with her navy-blue pram loaded with bags. At last, he thought, pleased that his efforts hadn’t been in vain. He had been looking forward to this moment since he’d seen her in the Castle a week before. He quickly darted into the ironmonger’s shop and sneaked a look through the window, waiting for her to approach. Her head was lowered against the inclement weather and her shoulders hunched as she hurried over the crossing, but Billy’s heartbeat quickened as he admired her long hair whipping at her face in the wind.
Just as she was about to pass the shop, he made a dash for the door. ‘Hello, Glenda,’ he said with a smile, trying to appear casual.
‘Oh, hello, Billy.’
Billy noticed she didn’t smile back at him but supposed it was because she was obviously in a hurry.
‘You look a bit overloaded there,’ he said as he pointed at the bags on the pram. ‘Let me give you a hand. Where you off to? Washday at the baths?’
‘Er, yes, I am, though I’m going to the butcher’s first before the queue gets too long. Thanks, Billy, but I can manage.’
‘Nah, come on, I’ll take these for you.’ Before Glenda could object further, he had grabbed the two large bags and was walking along beside her. ‘It’s a cold one today,’ said Billy, furiously trying to find conversation. ‘Winter will be here before we know it.’ He had planned this moment all week since seeing Glenda in the pub, but hadn’t thought about what he would say.
Glenda didn’t answer. She just nodded as she looked ahead.
‘How’s the boy?’ Billy asked, nodding towards Johnnie, who was sleeping soundly in the warmth and shelter of his pram.
‘He’s fine, thanks, Billy.’ A few moments’ silence fell as they arrived outside the butcher’s to see that they’d made it ahead of the queue. ‘Thanks for your help,’ Glenda said, ‘I can take it from here.’
‘It’s all right. I could do with getting out of this wind for a bit anyway.’
‘There’s no need, really. I don’t wanna hold you up.’
She’s always so polite, thought Billy before answering, ‘You won’t be holding me up. I’ve got plenty of time to kill this morning so don’t worry about me. You just get what shopping you need and I’ll carry these washbags for you.’
Billy smiled as Glenda sighed but entered the butcher’s, where a gust of wind was blowing sawdust around the floor. He stood awkwardly as she handed over her ration book and ordered her small piece of meat, then held the door open for her to leave. I’ll show her I’ve got good manners too, he thought, doubting that Harry ever treated her like a proper lady. Judging by the remnants of a bruise on her cheek, it looked like he’d been knocking her about again.
As they headed up towards the public washhouse, the chilly breeze made Billy’s eyes water. He would be glad to get to the baths and retreat from the horrid weather. His nerves were getting the better of him and he was finding conversation difficult to come by.
Finally they reached the Latchmere, and once inside Glenda removed her coat to drape it over the pram before donning a floral apron. She then took a stall and began to unload her sheets. Billy sat on a long wooden bench that ran down the length of the rear wall, enjoying the warmth of the steamy hall. He pulled his flat cap lower over his face and, as Glenda bent over to take washing from the bags, he watched and admired her pert backside. What I wouldn’t do to get my hands on that, he thought, instantly feeling hot.
Johnnie stirred in his pram, letting out a small cry. Glenda abandoned her washing to see to her child. As she stood with Johnnie in her arms and her back turned, Billy carefully ambled towards her washbags, stealthily popped his hand in and quickly removed a pair of Glenda’s knickers, which he stuffed into his coat pocket. As he felt the silky material in his hand, Billy found himself aroused at the fantasy that one day he would have his hands on Glenda’s knickers while she was still wearing them.
Johnnie settled down and Glenda placed him back in his pram. ‘Shouldn’t you be at work, Billy?’
‘It’s me mum’s legs, Glenda. They’re up like balloons! She asked me to run a few errands for her so I’ve taken the morning off. Only thing is, I had to tell a bit of a porky to my gaffer. I couldn’t tell him I was looking after Mum, so can you do me a favour and not mention to Harry that you’ve seen me today? Only him and my gaffer are pretty tight and I don’t wanna get my cards.’
‘Yeah, sure. I won’t say anything. But shouldn’t you be getting back to your mum?’
‘Nah, she’s all right for a bit. She was dozing off in her chair when I left so I don’t really wanna go back now and disturb her. Tell you what, once you’ve done your washing, do you fancy a cuppa and a bun at them swanky tearooms up the Junction? My treat.’ Billy salivated at the thought of a big, sweet cake, and who better to share it with than Glenda Jenkins! He hadn’t planned on asking her out, but it had just sort of slipped out and now the idea was very appealing. And, he thought to himself, I bet Harry never takes her anywhere nice.
‘Er … no, thanks, Billy. I’ve still got to go to the greengrocer’s and then get home to sort Harry’s tea out.’
Billy was disappointed, sure that she would have accepted his generous offer. ‘Never mind,’ he said, smiling at her. ‘It was just a thought. Warm your cockles and all that. I’ll tell you what then, I’ll walk up to the shop with you and pick up the bits my mum wants.’ Billy raised his eyebrows at Glenda expectantly, then instantly regretted his suggestion when he remembered that Betty Howard would be working in the shop.
‘If you want,’ Glenda replied, though Billy noticed that she didn’t seem very keen. Maybe she too was worried about Betty seeing them together.
Glenda walked as fast as she could along the bustling street, wishing to spend as little time as possible with Billy Myers. She felt uncomfortable with him at her side and wished he hadn’t accompanied her to the shop, but she couldn’t think of a way to get rid of him. It had been embarrassing in the baths with him hanging around. After all, it’s not the sort of place you would expect to see a man. She had noticed some of the other washerwomen whispering and tittering and had seen the disapproving looks, but what could she do? She didn’t want to appear rude to one of Harry’s mates.
Billy had taken her by surprise; she hadn’t expected him to suggest they go for tea. She did love a nice pastry and the ever-so-posh tearooms served up the best cakes in the area, far better than the rock cakes she baked every Sunday morning (if she could get hold of the ingredients). Harry liked the tearooms too and once a month they would visit them together on a Saturday afternoon, Harry’s way of spoiling her. Of course, Harry knew the girls who worked as waitresses and thanks to his cheeky grin and flirty banter he always got an extra slice of Victoria sponge on his plate. She could just imagine his reaction if he heard that she was in there with Billy Myers. And the girls in the shop would definitely tell him, that she was sure of.
The conversation with Billy felt fraught and though Glenda didn’t like the man, he seemed lonely and she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. It was also good of him to take time off work to look after his mother, but Billy obviously didn’t know Harry very well. If he did, he would never have invited her to afternoon tea.
Once they got to the greengrocer’s, Billy stopped in his tracks and rummaged through his pockets. ‘I’ve only gone and left the list indoors,’ he said, ‘I’ll have to pop home and get it.’
‘OK, Billy. Thanks for your help. I hope your mum feels better soon,’ Glenda replied as relief washed over her. Thank goodness he’s finally going, she thought, but before he turned to walk away, Betty Howard pranced around the corner and glared accusingly at her.
‘Fancy seeing you two here … together,’ Betty sneered as she eyed Glenda up and down. ‘There’s me just finishing my fag break and look what I find.’
‘Billy’s mum is poorly,’ Glenda explained, suddenly feeling guilty but not knowing why. ‘He was on his way to get her some shopping and I bumped into him.’
‘Oh, yeah,’ said Betty, ‘so how come she was in here early this morning, buying spuds for your dinner tonight, Billy?’
Glenda was taken aback. She couldn’t think why Billy had lied to her. Unless of course, he was just skiving off work for no good reason. Now both women glared at Billy, waiting for him to answer.
‘I … I … I dunno what you’re on about. She must have felt better and popped out when I went to the post office for her.’
Billy didn’t sound very convincing but Glenda found she didn’t care. She didn’t want to stand around in the cold wind to question him any further.
‘Funny,’ said Betty, ‘she didn’t mention anything.’
‘What is this, the Spanish inquisition? What’s it got to do with you anyhow? Bugger this, I’m off!’ said Billy as he turned on his heels and marched down the street.
‘Wait, Billy,’ called Betty as she rushed after him.
Glenda glanced back at the two of them as she entered the shop, and just caught sight of Betty tugging at Billy’s arm. Good luck to them, she thought, then focused on what was needed for the larder at home.
It was half past seven that night when Glenda finally heard Harry’s key in the front door. She rushed to the kitchen and, using a tea towel, took his plate from the oven which she’d set on low to keep his dinner warm. As she placed it on the kitchen table, Harry leaned against the door frame and she could tell from the smell of stale cigarettes and alcohol that he had been in the pub for a good few hours. Her heart sank. It had been such a good week together; the atmosphere had been light and cheery. Harry had even run her a hot bath before bed on two occasions, but as he walked towards the kitchen table with a scowl on his face, she dreaded his blackened mood.
‘Hello, love. I’ve done you a nice bit of belly of pork, here you go,’ said Glenda nervously. If he had knocked off work early and had a few, she didn’t want to do or say anything to start him off.
‘Where’s my boy?’ Harry asked as he sat at the table.
‘He’s tucked up in bed, fast asleep.’
‘Put him to bed early, did you? Wanted him out of the way?’ Harry was growling and Glenda felt her stomach tie in knots.
‘What do you mean, Harry? He goes down at seven every night, you know that.’ She tried to make her voice sound light, hoping it would placate him.
Suddenly Glenda heard the chair scrape back as Harry jumped to his feet. She watched in frozen horror as he lifted the dinner plate and threw it across the room, the china smashing against the wall just to the side of her head.
‘Don’t take me for a bloody fool, woman!’
Glenda could see gravy dripping down the wall, but was rooted to the spot as Harry upturned the kitchen table – the only thing standing between him and her getting another beating. There was no way she would be able to pass him to get to the kitchen door and, before she had a chance to dodge his grasp, Glenda felt her head tug back as Harry grabbed a handful of her hair.
‘I know you’ve been with that Billy Myers today,’ he hissed in her face. ‘Betty couldn’t wait to tell me!’
‘I … he … I just bumped into him down the high street. That’s all. He spoke to me and I couldn’t just ignore him.’ The pain in her scalp intensified as Harry clenched her hair tighter.
‘What a load of crap! I’ve seen you looking at him. Off shopping together, were you? Has he been round here, in my house? IN MY BED? Is that why you’ve got Johnnie out of the way, so you can be with your fancy man?’
‘No, Harry! I swear. There’s nothing going on. I don’t even like the man,’ Glenda was squealing but, as she pleaded for Harry to believe her, he brought his fist down hard on her face. She felt her head swim then warm blood trickle down her cheek. She tried to focus but her right eye wouldn’t open. Then she saw his fist coming towards her again and suddenly her legs went wobbly as the world faded out around her.
Glenda’s head was throbbing as she tried to open her eyes. She could feel someone patting the back of her hand as a woman’s voice slowly drifted into her consciousness.
‘That’s it, my dear, open your eyes. You’re all right now. You’re in hospital.’
Who was that talking to her? What did she say? I’m in hospital? Glenda’s thoughts were confused. Bright lights blurred her vision as she lifted her other hand to her painful head and felt something wrapped around it. Bandages … Hospital …
‘You took a nasty fall down your stairs. Don’t worry, though. A few days’ rest will sort out that bump and those bruises.’
‘Johnnie … where’s Johnnie?’ Glenda managed to whisper. Her throat felt so dry and coarse.
‘Is Johnnie your husband, dear? Don’t worry, he’ll be back later when it’s visiting time. Lucky for you that he found you when he did. Now just you rest. I’ll be back to check on you later.’
Glenda saw the figure of a nurse in a blue dress and white starched apron and hat get up from her bedside. She turned her head to the side and could see another bed a few feet away from her and one on the other side too. The nurse had said she had fallen down the stairs but although Glenda had taken a bash to the head, there was nothing wrong with her memory.
As she lay in the hospital ward, she recalled the moment when her husband had knocked her out cold. This time, his fists had finally knocked the love out of her too.
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