Goodnight Sweetheart (18 page)

February might be the shortest month but to Molly it was dragging by as though it was anchored up in Garston Dock. They were still only just over halfway through it and life was getting harder by the day. Ration queues were getting longer, and the shop shelves were getting emptier of those things that weren’t rationed.

June’s pregnancy was making her tetchy, and, of course, nothing could be said about it publicly until she reached her fourth month and was safely over any chance of miscarriage, although one evening when Molly and June were at Sally’s, Sally badgered June until she gave in and told her, before admitting herself, ‘Same here. I reckon mine’s due in September, what about you?’

‘The same,’ June responded. ‘Our Molly here’s already fussing about knitting for it.’

‘I reckon no matter what the Government has to say about it, there’s gonna be a lot of kiddies being born soon. Stands to reason, doesn’t it? It’s
only nature, after all. Mind you, there’s gonna be them as aren’t wearin’ a weddin’ ring wish they weren’t carryin’. Aye, and them as well ’oo won’t be able to say rightly who the father is. You’ve only got to go down the Grafton on a Saturday night to know that.’

Sally had got a job at the Grafton as a hat check girl, and Elsie and Molly had volunteered to mind her baby whilst she was out at work, knowing how much she needed the extra money.

‘All sorts goin’ on down there now, there is,’ Sally confided, as she eased her shoes off her aching feet. ‘I saw them two sisters of Johnny Everton’s there last week, showin’ themselves up. Aye, and I’ve seen women I know is married wrapping themselves around some chap wot isn’t their husband. Shockin’, especially when they’ve got hubbies off fighting.’

‘I suppose they feel lonely,’ Molly offered, flushing slightly when June and Sally both turned to look at her with identical expressions of disapproval.

‘Well then, they should find sommat useful to do, instead of goin’ chasin’ after men and mekkin’ a show of themselves,’ Sally said. ‘I got ter admit I could have done wi’out this,’ she added glumly, patting her still flat belly. ‘I’m bound to lose me job, and they were paying me good money.’

‘Maybe the war will be over before you have the baby, Sally,’ Molly suggested hopefully.

‘I don’t know about that. I had a letter from
my Ronnie this morning. He said as how they were gettin’ well dug in at this Nantes place he’s bin moved to. They’ve had them building an airfield and they’ve got RAF an’ all sorts there now. ’Ave you heard from your Frank lately, June?’

‘Yes, but he didn’t say much about where they were.’

‘Is everything sorted out for the wedding, Molly?’ Sally asked, desperate to lighten the mood.

‘Just about. The vicar has said we can get married the third Saturday in March, to fit in with Eddie’s ship docking.’

‘He’ll be back before then, though, won’t he?’

‘Yes.’ Excitement shone in Molly’s eyes. ‘He should be back this week.’ She could hardly wait. It seemed like for ever since she had last seen him. But she was luckier than June and Sally, she knew. At least Eddie’s ship came back to Liverpool regularly, even though it had to suffer the dangers of crossing the Atlantic to do so. Mr Churchill was full of praise for the brave men of the merchant navy, and the warships that sailed with them to protect their convoys from enemy submarines. There was so much she wanted to tell him about the wedding, but most of all she wanted to be held tightly in his arms. Just thinking about him kissing her made her whole body tingle.

‘What about your wedding dress?’ Sally asked.

‘She’s altered my frock, and trimmed it up a bit different, so as it will fit her, haven’t you, Molly?’ June answered for her.

Molly nodded. She had taken the dress in, and shortened it. She loved the fact that, like June, she would be wearing some part of her mother’s wedding dress. It made her feel closer than ever to her sister. Who knew – maybe she would have a niece and then perhaps a daughter to pass it down to in time?

‘Me and June went to the baker’s to see about a cake,’ Molly told Sally, laughing as she added, ‘Because of the sugar rationing they’re renting out a dummy cake they’ve made out of cardboard and painted up to look like it’s been iced all fancy.’

‘Aye, well, that’s no loss, is it?’ Sally comforted her practically. ‘Meself, I’ve never bin keen on fruitcake. Besides, I expect your Aunt Violet will be able to help out with some stuff from the farm.’

‘Yes, she will,’ Molly agreed.

‘And even if she couldn’t, there’s allus George Lawson from number 79, who works down the docks. He can get his hands on anything, so ’e says,’ June chipped in.

‘Aye, and from what I’ve heard that includes any girl daft enough to be taken in by his soft-soaping,’ Sally said forthrightly.

Molly was listening to them but at the same time she was thinking excitedly of Eddie’s return and their wedding. She was counting the hours now until he got back, knowing that even with bad weather his ship should be putting in to port soon.

Molly looked impatiently at the clock. Eddie’s ship was due to have docked in the early hours of the morning under cover of darkness, although she hadn’t heard from him yet. This Saturday it was her turn to go down to Lime Street station with the WVS to man the tea urns and be on hand to offer whatever practical help she could to the new conscripts going off to their training barracks, and the families who came to see them off. Molly had hurried through her morning’s chores, torn between impatience and excitement, humming happily under her breath, imagining Eddie’s ship docking and Eddie wanting to see her just as impatiently as she was longing to see him.

Her chores now finished, she hurried upstairs to get washed and changed, and then quickly drank a cup of tea before grabbing her cap and cramming it down on her curls, ready to leave the house.

She had just stepped out through the front gate when she saw the telegraph boy cycling up the cul-de-sac.

Daisy Cartwright from across at number 77, who was obviously on her way to the shops and marshalling her two small exuberant sons in front of her, waved at Molly, and called out to her, ‘Wonder where he’s goin’. Makes me go cold all over, it does, whenever I see ’im.’

Molly was just about to agree with her, when the boy drew level with her and called out, ‘You from number 78?’

Quickly she nodded, her heart pounding as she took the telegram from him. It was addressed to her. Everyone knew that the buff envelopes brought bad news of loved ones being injured or killed.

‘’Ere, Molly, let me go and get your dad.’

She looked blankly at Daisy, numbly aware of the shocked pity she could see in her eyes. She hadn’t even seen or heard Daisy cross the road.

Whilst she stood gripping the telegram, Daisy put her arm round her shoulders and instructed her sons, ‘Run round and knock on the back door of number 78 and tell whoever answers the door to come quickly.

‘Come on, Molly lass, let’s get you back inside before the whole of the cul-de-sac comes out nosying. Not that anyone’d mean any harm, but at times like this yer wants yer bit of privacy …’

‘What’s going on?’ June asked sharply as they walked into the front room.

Daisy answered quickly, ‘There’s bin a telegram delivered, June, for your Molly.’

Molly was distantly aware of June taking the telegram from her and opening it, and then exclaiming crossly, ‘Well, of all the daft things… Molly, it’s all right. It’s from your Eddie, to say that they’ve docked but that he won’t get no shore leave this time because he’s being transferred to another ship that’s going out today.’

‘
What?
Let me see,’ Molly demanded. When
June passed the telegram to her, her hands were shaking so much she could hardly hold it.

At the bottom Eddie had written, ‘See you in church.’ And he had signed it with a kiss.

‘Daft bugger,’ Daisy said bluntly. ‘Fancy sending her a telegram. Half scared her to death, he has. Men! I’d best be on me way otherwise the queue at Hodsons will be all the way up Edge Hill and back again.’

‘Are you all right?’ June asked Molly after Daisy had gone.

‘When he gave me the telegram and I saw me name on it, I thought …’ Tears of relief welled in Molly’s eyes.

‘Like Daisy said, your Eddie is a daft bugger,’ June declared, putting her arm round her comfortingly. ‘You’d better come back inside and have a cup of tea.’

‘I can’t. I’m going to be late for the WVS as it is, and they’re relying on us down at the railway station. Some of the families have come from miles out to see their men off. You know yourself what it’s like.’

‘Well, get yourself a cuppa there and have a couple of extra sugars – it’ll help you calm down.’

‘I’m all right, June, honest.’ Suddenly Molly started to laugh.

‘What’s so funny?’ June demanded, puzzled.

‘I was just picturing meself, standing there, thinking that Eddie was dead when he wasn’t.’

‘Well, I can’t see owt much to laugh about in
that,’ June grumbled. ‘If it had been my Frank that’d given me a shock like that, I’d have boxed his ears good and proper the next time I saw him.’

‘Have you told your Frank about the baby yet?’ Molly asked her.

‘No, he’d only start worrying, and since I’m not three months I don’t see the point. Time enough to tell him once it’s for sure. With any luck he’ll be getting some home leave soon anyway.’

‘It would be nice if he were here for the wedding. Eddie would like that, an’ all. He and Frank really get on.

‘June, do you ever wake up in the morning and can’t believe how much has changed?’ Molly asked her sister impulsively. ‘Dad was telling me the other day as how he and our mam were walking out for two years before they got married, and yet this time last year you were only just walking out with Frank, and I was with Johnny and now …’

‘Aye, well, it were different in Dad’s time and war makes people act a bit quicker – you can’t take time for granted. You’ve got the church booked, and the church hall so you’re all sorted. Of course, Elsie will be giving us a hand.’

Molly smiled happily. So what if she had to have a pretend cardboard wedding cake? She didn’t care. All she cared about was that in three weeks’ time she and Eddie would be getting married.

‘And you could have knocked me over with a feather when I got a letter from my Frank yesterday, saying as how he would be home before Easter. Molly, how do you think it will look if I put a bit of trimming on me straw hat for the wedding, so that it matches up with me blue frock, and then pin a few flowers to me jacket?’ June demanded, breaking off from telling Sally about her good news, and then continuing without waiting for an answer, ‘I could do with some of that Cyclax leg cream as well. I’m clean out of stockings and my legs need some colour.’

‘You want to have a word with Pearl. She told me the other day that if I ever wanted any stockings to have a word with ’er as her George has a contact,’ Sally said. ‘It’s a pity you didn’t get a chance to have a word with your Eddie before he left, Molly. I reckon it would be easy enough for ’im to bring us both in a few pairs of stockings, what with him toing and froing across to America
all the time. Did he say exactly when he’d be back when he wrote you that telegram?’

Molly shook her head, using her teeth to snap off the thread from the hem she was sewing. ‘He’s only bin gone just over a week, so I reckon he won’t be back until a couple of days before the wedding.’

‘It’s a pity he’s going to miss your birthday, tomorrow,’ June commented.

‘He can miss that, just so long as he doesn’t miss our wedding,’ Molly answered stoutly. Of course she would have loved it if Eddie could have been with her tomorrow to celebrate her eighteenth birthday, but what did a birthday matter compared with a marriage? ‘I went round to see Elsie last night. Eddie had left a parcel with her to give me on me birthday if he wasn’t back. She was asking me if he was going to wear his uniform or if she ought to sort him out a suit.’

The three young women were spending Sunday afternoon together, discussing the wedding, and listening to the wireless, June and Molly’s father having gone down to the allotment, whilst Sally and Ronnie’s little boy slept in his pram.

‘Well, we’re certainly going to celebrate your birthday, even if Eddie isn’t going to be here to share in the fun,’ Sally announced determinedly, ‘and not just with Elsie’s elderberry wine. You’re only eighteen the once, and tomorrow night we’ll mek sure you have a good time.’

Molly, June, Sally and some of the girls from
Hardings were all going to Lewis’s after work for a bit of tea, before going on to the pictures. ‘Not that goin’ to the pictures wi’ us can compare wi’ going with Eddie,’ Sally teased, laughing when Molly blushed and then laughed herself.

She was disappointed that Eddie wouldn’t be home to share in her birthday celebrations but she was still looking forward to them, and to going out and having fun with her friends. After all, it wouldn’t be long before he was home and then she would have their wedding to look forward to. Just thinking about becoming Eddie’s wife made her feel giddy with happiness and excitement.

‘So what’s the present he left for you, then, Molly?’ Sally asked.

‘I haven’t opened it yet.’

‘Oh, go on, get it open. Eddie won’t mind,’ Sally urged her.

Molly shook her head, but the other two insisted that she satisfy their curiosity and in the end she gave in, going upstairs to collect the neatly wrapped square box.

‘It doesn’t look like stockings,’ June commented, obviously disappointed.

Molly wasn’t listening to her. Instead she was staring at the contents of the small box she had just opened, her lips parted in a shocked ‘Oh’ of delighted disbelief.

‘What is it, then, Molly?’ Sally demanded, peering over her shoulder.

‘It’s a watch,’ Molly told Sally and June breathlessly, her face flushing with pleasure, as she continued to stare at the pretty dainty watch with its neat leather straps. ‘Eddie’s bought me a watch.’

‘Let me have a look,’ June demanded. ‘Well, I never. That must have cost him a pretty penny, Molly,’ she teased, breaking off to complain, ‘Who’s that knocking at the front door on a Sunday afternoon? You go, our Molly. Don’t worry, we’ll mind your watch.’

Laughing, Molly put down her birthday gift and went to see who was there.

A young man stood on the path. He was dressed in the everyday uniform of the merchant navy, a smear of oil on his cheek.

‘Are you Molly Dearden?’ he asked her.

‘Yes.’

‘I’ve come about your Eddie.’

‘You’re a friend of Eddie’s?’ Molly opened the door properly, smiling warmly at him.

But he stayed where he was, twisting his cap in his hands as he looked down at the ground and muttered, ‘I’ve come wi’ a bit of bad news for you.’

Even then she didn’t have any kind of premonition or sense of warning, her first thought being that he had come to tell her that Eddie’s ship was going to be delayed.

‘It’s Eddie’s ship, see,’ the young sailor told her desperately. ‘Torpedoed, it was, three days out of Liverpool. Our ship was on our way back, see,
and so we was able to pick up them as had survived …’

Molly stared at him, unable to take in what he was trying to tell her. It couldn’t possibly be true. She wasn’t going to let it be true.

‘Where’s Eddie?’ she demanded, repeating frantically when she saw his face, ‘Where is he? Where …?’

‘He was a goner when we pulled him out of the water – anyone could see that – but he still grabbed hold of me arm and said how he wanted me to come and see you and … tell you how much he loves … loved you. Them were his last words: “Tell Molly that I love her.”’

Molly opened her mouth to scream that it couldn’t possibly be true; that he couldn’t possibly be standing there and telling her that Eddie, her Eddie, who was to marry her in two weeks’ time was dead. But no sound emerged. She felt as though a giant hand had seized hold of her, squeezing the breath from her throat and the life from her heart.

Eddie couldn’t be dead. He mustn’t be. Not Eddie.

‘Molly, who is it?’ June demanded, coming to the door to find out what was keeping her, her impatience changing to concern as she saw the way Molly was standing there like a statue, whilst a young man June didn’t know stood on the front path, twisting his cap and stammering, ‘I’m sorry, missus, it’s her Eddie … Bought it, he has. His
ship were shot out of the water by Jerry. Poor sods didn’t have a chance…’

‘Are you saying that Eddie is dead?’ June asked shakily.

‘Yes. I’m off of the
Aegeus
– we picked up the men from his ship, and his last words to me were to come here and tell his girl.’

Suddenly Molly came to life. ‘But if he spoke to you he can’t be dead. Tell him, June,’ she pleaded, turning to her sister. ‘Tell him that Eddie can’t be dead.’ Molly’s voice had started to rise and the young sailor was looking increasingly uncomfortable, whilst June whispered to Sally in an urgent undertone to go round to Elsie’s and tell her what had happened.

‘He got it in the gut, missus,’ he told June in a gruff voice. ‘It teks longer ter die that way, but he knew as he got it. Said so himself … when the medic was pumping him full of morphine. I’ve got ter go and get back ter me ship. You’ll be hearing official, like, of course …’

June had her hand on Molly’s arm and she could feel her trembling.

‘Thanks for your trouble,’ she told the sailor, adding to Molly, ‘Come on, let’s get you inside.’

‘I don’t want to go inside. I want to go to Eddie,’ Molly told her. ‘He needs me, June. He needs me…’