have great memories of the good times, Glor. And we can still always go to the pictures during the week,’ Nancy said, trying to cheer her up.
‘Ah, thanks for that, Nance,’ Gloria said sardonically. ‘I’ll look forward to it.’ She knew that Sid wouldn’t let Nancy move before they were wed, so there was little chance afterwards.
‘Don’t be like that, Glor,’ Nancy said, smoothing her straight dark skirt, which fitted more snugly than it had last month. There wasn’t much she could do about it now, was there?
Gloria looked at her best friend. Nancy had a total blind spot to Sid Kerrigan’s domineering ways and she could not understand why. Surely, she could not love such an uncouth and shady man. Nancy had been brought up in a decent family who went to church and grafted hard even when work was scarce.
‘He doesn’t like me going to dances and being eyed up by other men.’
‘Maybe he knows his own tricks best,’ Gloria said, then put her hand to her lips, immediately regretting her slip of the tongue. It was one thing knowing Nancy was too good for Sid Kerrigan, caught up in the seedy criminal underworld she knew nothing about, but quite another to enlighten her about it on the eve of her wedding.
If only I had known sooner, Gloria thought. Sid had been having a fine old time last night in the Adelphi Hotel. Gloria recognised his lady friend, whose brother had connections in late-night drinking clubs, and he was not keen on shifty characters seducing his sister. Gloria knew Sid was playing with fire. But what could she do about it now?
It was too late to say anything, surely. Nancy was besotted with Sid.
‘Sid’s very good to me. He’s out looking for a house for us as we speak.’
No doubt, it would be some run-down rooms in a dilapidated old house barely fit for pigs to live in, convenient for Sid to make a few bob on the side smuggling contraband off the dock and selling it cheaply around the area. What the hell had her best friend let herself in for? Gloria was so angry she could scream!
There was one thing Gloria was certain of: the man she married would have to be very special. Her man would have money, status, and would wine and dine her in style at exclusive restaurants and … Until last night she had drawn the line at meeting in hotels.
‘So, what kept you out until now?’ Nancy asked, eager for details.
‘I can’t talk here,’ Gloria took Nancy’s arm, ‘and … if by any strange chance my mother asks where I was … I slept in yours last night.’
‘She’s bound to have talked to my mam today already,’ Nancy said.
Gloria shook her head. ‘My mother seldom asks questions, especially about me.’
‘You are so lucky, Glor.’ Nancy linked Gloria’s arm. ‘My mam knows what we’re doing before we even think about doing it.’
‘It must be nice to have a mother who cares.’ Gloria opened the side door, then, popping her head inside the passageway, she listened before leading the way up the narrow staircase.
‘I’ll get changed and come with you into town.’
‘Well, you’ve got to give me every last detail.’ Nancy followed in eager anticipation of a good old jangle, hurrying up the sumptuously carpeted stairs leading to the Ardens’ private quarters.
Pop and his sons made themselves scarce and, disappearing into the Sailor’s Rest, let the women do what they had to do the night before a wedding. Both his sons being home at the same time was a rarity these days, and Pop was in his element. Looking after them gave his lovely wife, Dolly, something to keep her mind occupied other than on what he was doing, for a change.
It was a great relief to know he could go about his ARP training without Dolly wanting to know the ins and outs of it all. Not that any of them would have her any other way; his Doll was the mainstay of the family, and he did not know where he would be without her.
Having the boys home made for lively discussions around the tea table. He smiled recalling the way each tried to outdo the other with his naval stories. He loved every minute of it. He had hoped they would take up the cartage line of work like him, get their own team of horses and be out delivering goods from one end of the docks to the other. Pop had a roving soul and loved the open road, but the rolling seas called his sons like many who lived in and around the docks and they were quick to answer. Frank had joined the Royal Navy three years ago, and Eddy had joined the Merchant Navy not long after. Both were proud they had salt water running through their veins and would not give it up for anything.
Outside the Sailor’s Rest the cobbles rang with children’s voices as they skipped in a rolling rope.
Under the spreading chestnut tree,
Neville Chamberlain said to me:
‘If you want your gas mask free,
Join the blinking ARP.’
A young girl was sitting on a looped rope lashed and knotted to the outstretched arms of the gas lamp while her friends swung her around it. A ship’s horn could be heard on the Mersey.
Pop, trying to push the anxious worry about what the war held for his family to the back of his mind, had thrown the singing children a few coppers as he passed. They scrambled in the dusty gutter, where a thrupenny bit landed on one of its twelve flat sides. Pop knew his wife hated the thought of another war, especially now her sons would both be in the front line. ‘But, Pop, it’s only been twenty-one years since the last war,’ Dolly had cried – as if that would prevent another one. Pop took a sip of his pint while his sons caught up with old pals … What had the world learned in the last twenty-one years? Here they were, on the brink of war again. Pop had seen many terrible things in the Great War and it made his blood run cold to think that his sons would do the same. But Pop knew that his boys would stand up to Hitler, no matter what.
‘Don’t fret about it now, Doll,’ he had said. Dolly was a strong, dignified woman, but first and foremost she was a mother. Fretting over her offspring came as naturally as breathing. ‘You’ve got a wedding to think about.’ If Dolly knew he had been humping corrugated cardboard, flat-packed coffins into the local swimming baths in Balliol Road all day she would have had a fit and refused to speak to him. However, the authorities had ordered them in case of war, and someone had to shift them …
Pop glanced at the huge round clock over the bar and wondered if Sid would get here before closing time.
Enjoying his rare night out with Frank and Eddy, Pop joined in the singing while Frank played the old upright piano. By nine o’clock, the whole pub seemed to be full of voices all happy to throw their opinions into the ring. They were all listening with interest to war stories from veterans of the last lot. By nine thirty, his sons were talking as if they would guide the British fleet to victory all by themselves, if need be. However, Pop laughed when he thought of thick heads in the morning, because tonight the only thing they were sinking was their beer.
‘Here, where’s the bridegroom got to?’ Eddy asked when he saw Pop looking at the time again.
‘This is a fine carry-on,’ said Frank, ‘a stag do and no stag.’ The die-hard regulars standing at the bar joined in Frank’s cheery banter.
‘Well,’ said one, ‘who wants to spend their last night of freedom with their future outlaws?’
‘Don’t you let my Dolly hear you talking like that, Fred,’ Pop replied. ‘We only got out of the house on the promise of looking after Sid …’ Pop, with theatrical exaggeration, looked right and left before he spoke again. ‘If she finds out he’s not turned up, she’ll be in here, evacuate the lot of us and have us making fairy cakes.’ The bar erupted with good-natured laughter and before long Frank started a medley of sea shanties.
Much to Eddy’s delight, Gloria came into the pub and silently beckoned him to the end of the bar. She was looking particularly fetching in a pale cream dress with puffed sleeves and a sweetheart neckline,