Winter on the Mersey(14)
‘You’re right, she’ll be angling to get back to work any day now,’ said Dolly, untangling a length of wool that had tied itself in a knot. ‘She’s not to rush it. We’ll have to keep an eye on her, see that she takes her time.’
‘She never thinks of herself, that one,’ Pop said. ‘What’s that you’re making there, Dolly? That looks familiar.’
‘So it should.’ Dolly held her work at arm’s length and inspected it critically. ‘It’s the wool from the cardigan Violet’s been wearing these past three years, which was more hole than cardie by the time I came to use it. I don’t know, it’s been washed so often it’s gone all scratchy and uneven. I reckoned I could make it into a bolero for her so she could still get the warmth, but we’ll have to see.’
‘If anyone can do it, you can,’ said Pop proudly. He never ceased to be amazed at his wife’s skill, even though they had been married thirty-odd years. She could sew, knit and cook, she was the street’s auxiliary fire-watcher, she ran make-do-and-mend classes as well as working for the WVS. She had raised five children, helped with three grandchildren so far and was hoping for more, though she never said anything in case Violet got upset. There was no doubt where most of their children got their work ethic from. He returned to the subject of the one child who hadn’t.
‘Our Nancy all right, was she?’
‘She’s got some do on, and says she’s been asked to volunteer. I don’t doubt she has, but it’s what she gets up to while she’s there that worries me.’ Dolly clacked her needles together. Both she and Pop were very strict about the sanctity of marriage and had brought their family up to hold the same view. That was why it had been so hard to stand by when Rita was married to that manipulative bully Charlie Kennedy, but Rita had never given them any cause to worry, even when he treated her so badly. The same could not be said for Nancy, who’d been caught out with Stan Hathaway, a local boy now in the RAF, in a bus shelter a couple of years back. Nancy had sworn nothing had really happened and she wouldn’t go so far again, but Dolly knew only too well what she was like.
‘Don’t see trouble where there isn’t any,’ Pop warned. ‘She’s a good girl at heart, our Nancy. You can’t blame her for hankering after a bit of excitement. Sid’s been gone a long time and she’s still young. It’ll all be harmless fun, you see if I’m not right.’
‘Yes, I’m sure that’s all it is really,’ said Dolly, not wanting to worry Pop. ‘Anyway, she’s found someone else to babysit occasionally, so all’s well.’
‘There you are then.’ Pop rubbed his hands in front of the little fire. ‘Now tell me something really important. What’s for tea?’
Dolly brightened up. ‘Funny you should ask. I found a recipe from the government that uses parsnips in a pudding, and we’ve just dug up the last ones from the victory garden. It’s perfect. You mix them with cocoa and milk and it says it’ll be just like a chocolate pudding.’
Pop’s eyes widened. Even with Dolly’s talent in the kitchen he couldn’t see how this idea would work. ‘Lovely,’ he said loyally. ‘Can’t wait.’
CHAPTER FIVE
Violet hugged the envelope to her chest and hummed to herself, standing stock still in the middle of the empty shop. She knew she had to open up so the dock workers could come flooding in and buy their morning papers and tobacco, but she wanted to savour the moment. It was so rare to have any time to herself, any space to think, and she just had to relish the good news, let it sink in, before the hectic rush began.
Eddy had written to say his ship was on its way back to Liverpool and he would be home before embarking on the next trip. He’d be back for a whole week. Seven whole days. Violet hadn’t seen him for that amount of time since they’d first met and married. She couldn’t quite believe it. Of course she had to keep calm and not jinx his return voyage; there was still danger in the Atlantic, but there was nothing like the risks of earlier in the war when the U-boats had sunk so many vessels. Eddy had survived all of that. Now the worst thing he’d have to contend with was the weather. Even that was improving, though – they were out of the season of winter storms and spring was finally here. He’d be home for Easter if all went to plan. She could collect eggs and decorate them, maybe hide them for Georgie and make a big game of it. Eddy would love to join in with that. Then they could all have a proper Easter dinner …
‘You opening up today, love, or have you won the pools and decided you’re too grand for us?’ called a voice from outside.
Violet snapped out of her dream and pushed up the sleeves of her moth-eaten cardigan. ‘One moment, hold your horses,’ she shouted, snapping up the blinds and unlocking the door. Several men had gathered, huddled in their jackets, scarves wound tight against the biting wind. Spring hadn’t managed to warm up this particular corner of Merseyside this morning, and the familiar smell of the river combined with that of the docks drifted into the shop.
‘You’re looking cheerful this morning,’ said one of the men, a regular customer who Violet had known since she began helping out behind the counter. ‘Maybe you have gone and won the pools an’ all.’
‘Better than that,’ grinned Violet, picking up the paper that she knew he liked, ‘much better. You can keep your old pools. My Eddy’s coming home on leave for Easter and he’ll be here all week. How about that?’