Looking Back Read online

  In the light of what Rosie had said, Molly’s anger was quick to rise. ‘Happen you should remind him they’re his children, too.’

  Amy shook her head. ‘You know what he’s like, lass.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mam,’ she apologised. ‘Don’t worry, I’m on my way in. When Dad gets home, you can leave the kids to me.’ And if he started throwing his weight around, he’d hear a few home truths from her, and no mistake.

  Relieved, Amy shifted her attention to Alfie. ‘Hello, Alfie, lad. All right, are you?’

  ‘Yes, thank you, Mrs Tattersall.’

  ‘That’s good.’ With that she went back inside, calling behind her, ‘Don’t be long, Molly.’ The pain in her back was giving her grief, and there was a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach. ‘Drat that Jack. He’s unnerved me, that’s what it is,’ she muttered, pushing the door shut. At the back of her mind, she prayed to God it wasn’t the start of an early labour.

  Outside, Alfie lowered his voice to a mere whisper. ‘You still haven’t given me a proper answer.’

  ‘I haven’t heard the question yet.’

  ‘Aw, come on, Moll, don’t torment me!’

  Smiling, she teased him as always. ‘Oh, you mean the question you were asking, before your mam got me up dancing?’ She had hoped he would ask again, and now that he had she was thrilled enough to keep him suffering a minute or two. It was a girl’s privilege, after all.

  ‘You’re a minx!’

  ‘But you love me?’ Her hands reached up to stroke his face. With her gaze holding his, she told him what he wanted to hear. ‘You already know what my answer is,’ she said. ‘To be your wife… Mrs Alfred Craig.’ She let the words linger on her lips. ‘Oh, Alfie. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.’

  ‘Me, too.’ Covering her small hands in his, he asked, ‘But when?’

  ‘Whenever you like.’ Tomorrow, if it was possible, she thought joyfully.

  ‘What about Easter?’ he suggested. ‘It’s only seven months away. By that time we’ll have saved enough money for a month’s rent on a decent house, with a few quid left over to buy the essentials. We’ll not be able to furnish a house top to bottom, straight off,’ he warned, ‘but as long as we have a bed to lie in and a couple of chairs for sitting, we can eat off our laps and buy whatever else we need as we go along. What do you say, sweetheart?’

  She groaned. ‘I hope we can start with more than a bed and a couple of chairs!’ But, like Alfie, she knew it wouldn’t be easy. ‘I know the war’s over and things are slowly getting back to normal, but there’s still a shortage of some items.’ Reluctantly, she agreed with him on one thing. ‘It’s a good idea to wait for another six months or so. I think we should try for a house on Derwent Street; they all have three bedrooms and they’ve got nice size back yards. Then, I’ll want a new lavvy put in. I’m funny about using other folks’ lavvies, especially if they haven’t been changed since the house was built.’

  Alfie laughed out loud. ‘You can have a new lavvy for a wedding present – how’s that?’

  Ignoring him, Molly lovingly described her ideal lavatory. ‘I’d like a white one,’ she said dreamily, ‘with blue flowers, and a china handle, and a seat that fits proper, so when you sit down, it won’t tip to one side.’ It was something she had set her heart on.

  ‘I see.’ There were times when he couldn’t fathom this lovely creature. ‘All right then, forget the diamond ring and the fur coat. You can have your lavvy with its blue flowers and china handle. What’s more, I’ll have it wrapped in crimson ribbons with a great big bow. And nobody will be allowed to sit on that seat, until you’ve tried it for size.’

  But she was adamant. ‘Laugh if you like, but you’ve never had to use ours – that’d soon wipe the smile off your face.’

  ‘And is that all you want?’

  ‘Well, I’d also like a nice rug in front of the fire, and a full-size stove.’ Her eyes sparkled as she looked up at him. ‘I’ve seen one at Barney’s second-hand shop. I know he’ll keep it for us if we put down a small deposit. Later on, we can change it for a better one, if you want?’

  ‘Anything you say,’ he replied, thinking how little she wanted, and how much he would love to be able to give her. ‘Promise me one thing?’ he asked.

  ‘If I can.’

  ‘When we’re married, you won’t want more than two children, will you?’ He loved kids but only in small numbers.

  ‘Four!’ Molly had her brood all mapped out.

  ‘Settle for three?’ Looking pitiful, he put his hands together as though in prayer.

  ‘Coward!’ But Molly understood how he felt; in fact, though she would never tell anyone this, there were times when she swore she would never have any kids at all. Being one of six children in a cramped house with parents who spent their life rowing and fighting was a terrible trial. But when she asked herself if she could go through life without children of her own, she knew how empty that life would be, even with Alfie by her side.

  ‘Is it three then?’ he asked hopefully.

  ‘Depends how careful you are,’ she answered boldly. ‘If you’re anything like my dad, we’ll likely end up with an army!’

  ‘And what would you think to that?’

  Molly’s smile disappeared. ‘I’d think you were selfish and thoughtless,’ she said quietly.

  Alfie was equally serious. ‘I wouldn’t want us to have more children than we could feed and clothe,’ he told her softly. ‘I know how hard it is for your mother. I don’t want that kind of life for you… or me, come to that!’

  Irrepressible, Molly grinned. ‘So if I suddenly said I wanted seven children, what would you do?’

  There was only one truthful answer he could give. ‘If that was what you really wanted, then seven it would have to be.’

  ‘Do you love me that much?’

  He grimaced, eyes rolling in horror. ‘God! What have I let myself in for?’ Snatching her to him, he kissed her hard, but said gently, ‘I’ll tell you this, Molly Tattersall, I’ll never love any woman the way I love you.’

  ‘Molly!’ Amy’s voice startled them.

  ‘All right, Mam. I’m on my way.’

  But they held each other for a few more seconds, before Alfie wanted to know, ‘What was it you tried to ask me before? Back there?’

  Unsure, she hesitated.

  ‘Tell me,’ he urged.

  ‘It was just… well, I don’t like you street-boxing.’ Her voice trembled. ‘It frightens me.’

  Alfie was well aware of her concern about his way of earning a living. ‘It’s what I do,’ he admitted. ‘I know you’re worried, and I can’t deny it’s a worrying game. There was a time when it was a clean game and you knew what you were up against, but not any more.’

  Walking her to the foot of the steps, he grew thoughtful, lowering his voice as though talking to himself. ‘It all seems to be changing, what with the thugs who think they can get in on the act with brute force and ignorance, the money-men with their threats and dirty tricks, and managers you thought you could trust.’ Shaking his head, he revealed, ‘Now all they want is a quick, easy percentage, and to hell with everything else. Then of course, there’s the law. Once they get scent of a fight, they won’t leave it be.’

  When he saw the look on Molly’s face he realised with a jolt that he was only making matters worse. Raising his face to the skies, he groaned like a man in pain. ‘Me and my big mouth, and here I am, supposed to be reassuring you!’

  Molly’s worries were now tenfold. ‘Is it worth it, Alfie, tell me that?’ She didn’t want to bully him, nor did she have the right but, as she told him now: ‘There are other ways to earn a living.’

  ‘Not for me.’ He shrugged. ‘Boxing is all I know. Even from a kid I’ve been able to take care of myself. My grandaddy and his daddy afore him… they were the best.’ His dark eyes shone with pride. ‘That’s what I want, too,’ he said. ‘To be the best – just like they were.’

  Embarrassed by this
rush of emotion, Alfie joked, ‘Besides, I’m no good at anything else. Ask me mam – she’ll tell you.’ Mimicking Rosie, he wagged a busy finger. ‘Ah, you’re useless, so ye are! Ye can’t wash a pot without dropping it, and Gawd only knows who taught yer to brew the tea.’ When he grimaced he had Rosie off a treat. ‘Sure it tastes like bleddy dishwater, so it does!’

  Molly chuckled. ‘She’s right an’ all.’

  ‘There you are then,’ he beamed. ‘I’d best stick to what I know best.’

  Her smile faded. ‘It worries me though.’

  ‘What – scared that I might meet my match, is that it?’ Rolling his eyes, he grabbed her to him. ‘Or is it that you don’t want me to lose my handsome looks?’

  Playfully thumping him, Molly retorted, ‘Can’t you be serious for one minute?’

  He didn’t want her getting into a state. ‘Look, lass, there’s no need for you to be frightened. I can handle anybody they set up against me.’

  Reluctantly, she agreed. ‘I’m sure you could!’ In spite of her obvious concern, there was a measure of pride in Molly’s chiding. ‘Running to Revidge and back every morning, and half your life spent down at Fred’s gymnasium.’

  ‘Ah well, you need to keep fit and sharp if you want to stay on top.’ Loving her so much he would do anything for her, he said, ‘I’ll make you a promise.’ Tenderly wrapping his two hands round her face, he smiled into her soft blue eyes. ‘The day I meet my match, I’ll give up the fighting. How’s that?’

  She smiled back at his promise. ‘And if you’re nabbed by the law, what then?’

  ‘Same thing. I’ll chuck it in.’

  ‘Even if it means you have to work in a factory, six days a week, hemmed in on all sides by high walls and the windows so blackened with grime you can’t see daylight?’ Molly wondered if she was asking too much of this lovely bloke. Especially when he craved the open air and his whole life had been built round the thrill of boxing.

  Alfie hesitated for only the briefest moment. ‘Even then,’ he promised. ‘If it stops you worrying unnecessarily, my beauty, closed in or not, I’ll clock in with the rest of ’em.’ His eyes betrayed the depth of his feelings for her. ‘I’ll even sweep the streets if I have to. There’s many a decent soul earning a wage from doing the very same.’

  Molly answered with a twinkle in her eye. ‘And you’d be content with that, would you?’

  He reflected on his rash promise. ‘Happen,’ he teased.

  She chuckled. ‘Aye, an’ happen not!’

  From the window of the house, Amy saw them, still deep in conversation. ‘Poor old Molly,’ she sighed. ‘I make such demands on her, and she never complains.’ Turning away, she busied herself with getting the dinner. ‘Lottie, put the plates and things out,’ she said. ‘This hotpot’s almost ready.’

  ‘Where’s our Molly?’

  ‘Canoodling,’ her mother answered frankly.

  ‘Will I fetch her in?’

  ‘No. We’ll give her a minute or two longer. So long as she’s here afore your dad gets home, that’s all as matters.’

  Outside, the lovers were still discussing their wedding arrangements. ‘Let’s not tell anybody just yet,’ Molly pleaded. ‘It’s a difficult time, what with our mam about to have the bairn and all. I’d rather we waited until after, if that’s all right with you.’

  ‘Like I said, sunshine, whatever you want is all right by me. Just as long as you don’t change your mind.’

  The conversation was suddenly cut short by the arrival of Alfie’s wayward twin sister, Sandra. ‘Hey! Look at you two, kissing and cuddling in the street,’ she cried. ‘It’s a wonder old Maggie ain’t emptied her chamberpot over you!’ Drunk and unsteady on her feet, she came at them with a laugh. ‘But never you mind… sod old Maggie, eh? Sod ’em all, that’s what I say. Ain’t that right, Molly me ol’ sugar?’

  Winking knowingly, she gave her friend a powerful nudge, sending Molly one way and herself the other. ‘Well, I never!’ she screeched, falling sideways into Alfie’s waiting arms. ‘I’m blowed if I ain’t three sheets to the wind!’ She took a fit of the giggles and Molly couldn’t help joining in.

  Alfie’s own sense of humour was stifled by his obvious concern. ‘Take a hold of yourself, Sandra! Twice in a week you’ve come home plastered.’ Where his twin sister was concerned, nothing got by him. ‘I reckon it’s time you and me had a little talk.’

  ‘Aw, stop moithering!’ Shrugging him off, she belched and staggered. ‘Hark at him,’ she complained. ‘Bossy boots, ain’t he? I wouldn’t mind, but he’s only five minutes older than me. Tell him, Moll,’ she cajoled. ‘Tell him I can do whatever takes me fancy. He’ll listen to you. Go on… tell him!’ She gave her friend another little nudge, but this time Molly was ready for her.

  ‘No,’ she answered firmly. ‘Alfie’s right, Sandra. You’re getting a bit out of your depth. We’re all worried about you.’

  ‘Well, there’s no need,’ the girl replied good-naturedly. ‘I’m having a wonderful time. I’ve been dancing and singing and everybody clapped and the landlord said I could have a job in his pub any time I wanted…’ looking sheepish, she went on ‘… if only this cheeky bugger hadn’t tried it on and got me in the landlord’s bad books!’

  ‘Uh oh.’ Alfie could only guess. ‘You’ve been fighting again, is that it?’

  Sandra looked appealingly at Molly, who wisely decided not to interfere between brother and sister.

  ‘It weren’t my fault!’ Sandra bunched her fists and waved her arms about as if shadow-boxing. ‘It were this randy old bloke who started it, I swear to God!’

  Surprisingly light on her feet, she began leaping about. ‘Best rough and tumble I’ve seen in a long time. Ollie Pleasant got a bloody nose, an’ Fat Lizzie waded in with her umbrella, till somebody took it off her and jumped on it.’ Teetering with laughter, she clamped hold of Molly. ‘Whoops – I’ll wet meself if I’m not careful. You shoulda come with us, gal, you missed a good night. Still, I expect you had summat better to do, eh?’ She winked knowingly.

  Molly couldn’t help but chuckle. ‘You’d best do as Alfie says and get off home,’ she said. ‘I’ll see you in the morning like we planned.’ They were off to Blackpool for a paddle with the kids. ‘We’ll need a bright start if we’re to catch that early tram.’

  But Sandra was still in full flow. ‘You know old Bella as runs the flower stall on Blackburn Market… well, you’ll never believe it! She wears a wig! I’m telling yer, a real, live wig! I know, ’cos I saw it clear as I can see you now.’ Although truth to tell, with the world swaying before her eyes, nothing was very clear at the minute. ‘The landlord grabbed her hair and the whole bloody lot come off in his hand. Give him the fright of his life, it did.’

  While Alfie and Molly tried desperately hard to keep a straight face, Sandra had no such qualms. Her roars of laughter echoed up and down the street, bringing Rosie to the door in a rush. ‘Is that you, Sandra?’ she yelled. ‘Drunk again is it, ye little heathen? Get in here with ye!’

  ‘I’m not coming in yet, Mam!’ Falling against the wall, she took a dizzy spell. ‘Ooh, the wall’s moving.’

  ‘Right, that’s it.’ Taking her by the shoulders, Alfie stood her upright. ‘You can tell us all about it tomorrow.’ Turning to Molly he winked, making her smile.

  ‘I met this good-looking bloke… ooh!’ Sandra held out her arms as if embracing some imaginary being. ‘He kissed like an angel, he did.’ Struggling fiercely, she almost fell, taking Alfie with her. ‘Aw, look I’m sorry, don’t be mad at me. I’m drunk and I’ve no excuse, but…’ She began giggling again. ‘I think I’m in love.’

  Alfie had heard it all before. ‘Come on, sis,’ he sighed. ‘Let’s get you inside before you have the whole street out.’

  ‘You and Molly get off. Leave your sister to me!’ Rattled and ready, Rosie came at the trot, rolling up her sleeves.

  ‘Don’t get mad, our mam.’ Sandra had seen her mother in a temper befor
e and it was not a pretty sight. ‘I were already on me way. Ask them, they’ll tell you. “I’d best get off inside,” that’s what I said, and here I am, coming down the street of me own free will.’ She burped again.

  ‘You don’t say?’ Rosie was having no nonsense. Catching hold of Sandra’s coat collar, she took her down the street at a march. ‘Whatever are ye coming to? Shaming yer mammy like that! You’re a disgrace, so ye are, a downright disgrace!’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mam. I’ll be off to bed and you’ll hear no more from me till morning. Me and Moll’s taking the kids to Blackpool, it’s all planned.’

  ‘Sure, I don’t care if youse are going to the ruddy moon. And you’ll not be going to your bed in a hurry neither; not until I’ve turned you upside down in a bucket of cold water.’

  ‘Aw, Mam!’

  ‘Aw, Mam nothing. I’m not having you throwing up all over my clean sheets.’

  The two of them could be heard arguing all the way down the street.

  ‘Wait till yer grandaddy gets a sight of ye. He’ll tan yer arse, so he will!’

  ‘I don’t care.’ As always, Sandra gave as good as she got. ‘I’m in love, Mam. Honest to God, it’s the real thing this time. Wait and see… it won’t be long afore I’m walking down the aisle. He’s asked me to marry him and I’ve said yes, and there ain’t nobody gonna change my mind.’

  ‘Away with yer!’ Rosie, too, was familiar with this tale. ‘Tell me his name, why don’t you? Come on then, let’s hear it. This fella who’s asked you to wed him… tell me his name.’ Landing Sandra a clip round the ear, she hurried her on. ‘That’s if you can remember it at all?’

  ‘Course I can remember it,’ the girl cried, indignant.

  ‘Ah well, that’s all right then. So you’ll not mind telling yer old mammy, will ye?’

  Sandra was mortified. Try as she might, she could not recall his name. ‘You’re not being fair. How am I expected to remember anything with you yelling at me?’ she retaliated. ‘And besides, I can’t think straight when I’ve had a pint or two!’