Kay Brellend 3-Book Collection: The Street, The Family, Coronation Day. Kay Brellend
sticking to her damp cheek. ‘Come in with all of us.’ He tipped his head to indicate the front room where a New Year’s Day party was in full swing. The piano keys were being tickled with far less skill than Jack would have brought to the rendition of ‘Pack Up Your Troubles’.
‘Don’t want you to go, Dad,’ Alice snuffled and ducked her face to his hanky to blot fresh tears.
‘I know. I don’t want to go neither, Al.’ Gently Jack gathered his distraught daughter into his arms. ‘But sometimes things you don’t expect just come along and put a spoke in your life …’ He paused, let out a sigh. ‘And you have to forget what you want and what you like and just do what you know’s right. All us men as can fight got to stand up and be counted now. Ain’t going right for us over there. We’ve got to stop the Germans soon as we can or it might not be planes goin’ over but Hun marching up the street.’
Alice blinked bloodshot eyes at her dear dad’s face. ‘You’ll come back, won’t you? They’ll let you come back on leave ‘n’ so on?’
‘Of course!’ he promised. ‘If they say I can’t have no leave, then I’ll have to run off.’
Alice whimpered a laugh. ‘Then you’ll get shot, right enough, and it won’t be Germans doing it.’
‘I’ll be back,’ he promised. ‘Got this to keep me safe, ain’t I?’ From an inside pocket he pulled out the silk scarf she’d given him as a present. ‘Me keepsake … lucky charm, ain’t it. Where I go, it goes.’ He folded the soft material and reverently put it back whence it came. ‘Keep me warm too, it will.’
Alice nodded and sniffed. ‘Wish Sophy had come back to see us for Christmas. Miss her, I do.’ It was true. Sophy’s absence at this special time of the year had heightened Alice’s feeling of melancholy. The usual excitement of Christmas Day had seemed to be lost without her.
Weeks ago Sophy had written to say that her employers wouldn’t give time off to staff over the holiday as they had guests to stay till the New Year. Alice could read between the lines. Her sister and Danny were happy to stay where they were. Alice didn’t begrudge Sophy her comfort and Christmas feasts in Essex.
‘Your big sister’s got a new life now. We all gotta be glad that she’s fallen on her feet. After what went on …’ Jack coughed and fell silent. ‘Well, it’s good to know she’s happy and settled, that’s all.’
‘I know; I’m glad she’s got such a good job. It’s just … I miss having her to talk to.’
‘Beth’s getting older. Soon you and her’ll be good pals like you was with Sophy,’ her dad suggested kindly. ‘She’ll be finished school before you know it and out workin’. Your mum’ll make sure of that.’
‘Yeah …’ Alice chuckled wryly. ‘Mum’ll make sure of that alright.’ She looked at her dad intently as though imprinting his beloved features on her mind. A surge of adoration prompted her to hug him round the neck. Before he could return the embrace she just as quickly let him go. Slowly she raised a finger and tickled the mark on her father’s jaw. ‘Freckles!’ she teased him.
‘Monkey!’ he mocked her back and dropped a kiss on the top of her dark, silky head. ‘Come in the other room,’ he urged her again. ‘Come ‘n’ join in a song with your old dad.’ Jack winced as a few off-key notes were strung together making a discordant noise. ‘That’s old Prewett havin’ a turn on the pianer. He’s a cack-handed sod, I’ll give him that!’
He lifted Alice off the bed and onto her feet. ‘Come on, Monkey. You and me’ll show him how it’s done.’
The front room was crowded, musky with the aroma of ale and tobacco smoke. Tilly immediately gave her husband a tipsy smile. Jack slid onto the piano stool, good-naturedly butting Bill Prewett off the end with his hip. Before Alice could sit beside him Tilly had plonked down close to her husband and leaned her head on his shoulder.
As Alice watched her parents tears needled the back of her eyes again but she blinked them away. Her mum was keen to show her dad how much he meant to her. The fond display seemed sweeter for being so rare. It reinforced Alice’s fears for her dad’s safety. Normally her mum was sparing with her affection. But the arguments between them over him joining up had now stopped.
Tilly had accepted Jack was going; she’d had to, for when Jack made up his mind on something, that was that. All Tilly could do now was wring every last drop of enjoyment from the time remaining to them. Even the presence of Jimmy Wild, sitting with an arm around his wife, all cosy and quiet like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth, couldn’t rile Tilly today. She wouldn’t let it. So, as her sister Fran gave her a tentative smile that begged her tolerance, Tilly raised her glass in a salute and smiled right back.
Geoff strolled over to Alice, a bottle of beer in his fist. ‘Alright?’ he asked, tactfully avoiding staring at her bloodshot eyes fringed by clumpy wet lashes. ‘Want a drop?’ He offered the bottle.
‘Ain’t allowed,’ she told him with a wrinkled-nose smile. Lucy had trotted up and clutched her about the knees. Alice swung her little sister up in her arms and began to dance with her despite that at three and a half years old she was now quite a weight to carry. They swirled around laughing to their dad’s gay tune. Round and round they went in uninterrupted rhythm till Alice felt quite giddy and nauseated and Lucy was shrieking in delight.
Geoff took a step forward and steadied Alice as she stumbled. ‘Daft … you’ll drop her.’ The chiding was kind. Then with the child between them he lightly held Alice and they adopted Margaret and Bert’s posture. Quite sedately they followed their elders’ steps and executed an approximation of a waltz whilst dodging the furniture.
Jack unobtrusively watched his tipsy wife watching their daughter as she danced. ‘New start for Alice at Turner’s engineering come next week.’
Tilly nodded. ‘Good job she’s making her way ’cos I’m gonna need the extra money once you’re gone.’ Her voice was thick with alcohol and emotion.
Jack turned and pressed his lips to his wife’s temple. ‘Won’t be gone long, love,’ he crooned, rubbing his cheek against hers to comfort her. ‘When I come back on leave I’ll fetch you something fancy from France,’ he promised. He looked back at Alice and Geoff. ‘Won’t get no better than him,’ he said quietly to Tilly. ‘That’s a good lad.’
‘Yeah … I know,’ Tilly slurred and, after a deep sigh, she snuggled up to Jack again. ‘She’s found someone like her dad.’ Tilly tilted her head, gave her husband a searing look. ‘Don’t want no fancy French stuff brought back. Just want you back. You come back home in one piece!’ she whispered, her fierce whiskey breath burning his cheek. ‘Don’t you dare leave me on me own, Jack Keiver!’
‘You should’ve stopped home today,’ Alice said to Sarah Whitton. Gently she drew her sobbing friend into her arms to comfort her.
‘Ain’t stopping home with me mum, the wicked old cow,’ Sarah choked. ‘She laughed when Louisa told us about dad. Wicked old cow, she is,’ she repeated forcefully. ‘Ain’t surprised he ran off and left her when he did. Told her so ‘n’ all.’ She scrubbed a hand over her streaming eyes. ‘Rather be with the women at work than with her. At least they said nice things like sorry to hear about your dad, and so on.’
Alice had just discovered from her friend that this morning Sarah’s sister Louisa had called round to Campbell Road to break the awful news that their dad had been killed in the fighting. Despite her grief Sarah had gone to work as usual and come to meet Alice at one o’clock as they’d arranged, outside Alice’s workplace.
The two girls were stationed outside the gates to Turner’s engineering factory in Blackstock Road. Sarah now worked in Kemp’s biscuit factory despite her mum’s initial objection to her taking on full-time. The amount of broken biscuits that found