A Mother’s Sacrifice. Kitty Neale
I’ve got good manners too, he thought, doubting that Harry ever treated her like a proper lady. Judging by the remnants of a bruise on her cheek, it looked like he’d been knocking her about again.
As they headed up towards the public washhouse, the chilly breeze made Billy’s eyes water. He would be glad to get to the baths and retreat from the horrid weather. His nerves were getting the better of him and he was finding conversation difficult to come by.
Finally they reached the Latchmere, and once inside Glenda removed her coat to drape it over the pram before donning a floral apron. She then took a stall and began to unload her sheets. Billy sat on a long wooden bench that ran down the length of the rear wall, enjoying the warmth of the steamy hall. He pulled his flat cap lower over his face and, as Glenda bent over to take washing from the bags, he watched and admired her pert backside. What I wouldn’t do to get my hands on that, he thought, instantly feeling hot.
Johnnie stirred in his pram, letting out a small cry. Glenda abandoned her washing to see to her child. As she stood with Johnnie in her arms and her back turned, Billy carefully ambled towards her washbags, stealthily popped his hand in and quickly removed a pair of Glenda’s knickers, which he stuffed into his coat pocket. As he felt the silky material in his hand, Billy found himself aroused at the fantasy that one day he would have his hands on Glenda’s knickers while she was still wearing them.
Johnnie settled down and Glenda placed him back in his pram. ‘Shouldn’t you be at work, Billy?’
‘It’s me mum’s legs, Glenda. They’re up like balloons! She asked me to run a few errands for her so I’ve taken the morning off. Only thing is, I had to tell a bit of a porky to my gaffer. I couldn’t tell him I was looking after Mum, so can you do me a favour and not mention to Harry that you’ve seen me today? Only him and my gaffer are pretty tight and I don’t wanna get my cards.’
‘Yeah, sure. I won’t say anything. But shouldn’t you be getting back to your mum?’
‘Nah, she’s all right for a bit. She was dozing off in her chair when I left so I don’t really wanna go back now and disturb her. Tell you what, once you’ve done your washing, do you fancy a cuppa and a bun at them swanky tearooms up the Junction? My treat.’ Billy salivated at the thought of a big, sweet cake, and who better to share it with than Glenda Jenkins! He hadn’t planned on asking her out, but it had just sort of slipped out and now the idea was very appealing. And, he thought to himself, I bet Harry never takes her anywhere nice.
‘Er … no, thanks, Billy. I’ve still got to go to the greengrocer’s and then get home to sort Harry’s tea out.’
Billy was disappointed, sure that she would have accepted his generous offer. ‘Never mind,’ he said, smiling at her. ‘It was just a thought. Warm your cockles and all that. I’ll tell you what then, I’ll walk up to the shop with you and pick up the bits my mum wants.’ Billy raised his eyebrows at Glenda expectantly, then instantly regretted his suggestion when he remembered that Betty Howard would be working in the shop.
‘If you want,’ Glenda replied, though Billy noticed that she didn’t seem very keen. Maybe she too was worried about Betty seeing them together.
Glenda walked as fast as she could along the bustling street, wishing to spend as little time as possible with Billy Myers. She felt uncomfortable with him at her side and wished he hadn’t accompanied her to the shop, but she couldn’t think of a way to get rid of him. It had been embarrassing in the baths with him hanging around. After all, it’s not the sort of place you would expect to see a man. She had noticed some of the other washerwomen whispering and tittering and had seen the disapproving looks, but what could she do? She didn’t want to appear rude to one of Harry’s mates.
Billy had taken her by surprise; she hadn’t expected him to suggest they go for tea. She did love a nice pastry and the ever-so-posh tearooms served up the best cakes in the area, far better than the rock cakes she baked every Sunday morning (if she could get hold of the ingredients). Harry liked the tearooms too and once a month they would visit them together on a Saturday afternoon, Harry’s way of spoiling her. Of course, Harry knew the girls who worked as waitresses and thanks to his cheeky grin and flirty banter he always got an extra slice of Victoria sponge on his plate. She could just imagine his reaction if he heard that she was in there with Billy Myers. And the girls in the shop would definitely tell him, that she was sure of.
The conversation with Billy felt fraught and though Glenda didn’t like the man, he seemed lonely and she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. It was also good of him to take time off work to look after his mother, but Billy obviously didn’t know Harry very well. If he did, he would never have invited her to afternoon tea.
Once they got to the greengrocer’s, Billy stopped in his tracks and rummaged through his pockets. ‘I’ve only gone and left the list indoors,’ he said, ‘I’ll have to pop home and get it.’
‘OK, Billy. Thanks for your help. I hope your mum feels better soon,’ Glenda replied as relief washed over her. Thank goodness he’s finally going, she thought, but before he turned to walk away, Betty Howard pranced around the corner and glared accusingly at her.
‘Fancy seeing you two here … together,’ Betty sneered as she eyed Glenda up and down. ‘There’s me just finishing my fag break and look what I find.’
‘Billy’s mum is poorly,’ Glenda explained, suddenly feeling guilty but not knowing why. ‘He was on his way to get her some shopping and I bumped into him.’
‘Oh, yeah,’ said Betty, ‘so how come she was in here early this morning, buying spuds for your dinner tonight, Billy?’
Glenda was taken aback. She couldn’t think why Billy had lied to her. Unless of course, he was just skiving off work for no good reason. Now both women glared at Billy, waiting for him to answer.
‘I … I … I dunno what you’re on about. She must have felt better and popped out when I went to the post office for her.’
Billy didn’t sound very convincing but Glenda found she didn’t care. She didn’t want to stand around in the cold wind to question him any further.
‘Funny,’ said Betty, ‘she didn’t mention anything.’
‘What is this, the Spanish inquisition? What’s it got to do with you anyhow? Bugger this, I’m off!’ said Billy as he turned on his heels and marched down the street.
‘Wait, Billy,’ called Betty as she rushed after him.
Glenda glanced back at the two of them as she entered the shop, and just caught sight of Betty tugging at Billy’s arm. Good luck to them, she thought, then focused on what was needed for the larder at home.
It was half past seven that night when Glenda finally heard Harry’s key in the front door. She rushed to the kitchen and, using a tea towel, took his plate from the oven which she’d set on low to keep his dinner warm. As she placed it on the kitchen table, Harry leaned against the door frame and she could tell from the smell of stale cigarettes and alcohol that he had been in the pub for a good few hours. Her heart sank. It had been such a good week together; the atmosphere had been light and cheery. Harry had even run her a hot bath before bed on two occasions, but as he walked towards the kitchen table with a scowl on his face, she dreaded his blackened mood.
‘Hello, love. I’ve done you a nice bit of belly of pork, here you go,’ said Glenda nervously. If he had knocked off work early and had a few, she didn’t want to do or say anything to start him off.
‘Where’s my boy?’ Harry asked as he sat at the table.
‘He’s tucked up in bed, fast asleep.’
‘Put him to bed early, did you? Wanted him out of the way?’ Harry was growling and Glenda felt her stomach tie in knots.
‘What do you mean, Harry? He goes down at seven every night, you know that.’ She tried to make her voice sound light, hoping it would placate him.
Suddenly Glenda heard the chair scrape back as Harry