Molly's War (17 page)

The market place was filled with stalls and thronged with shoppers hoping for bargains. Late Saturday afternoon was the time for those, the traders dropping their prices before packing up to go home. ‘Now then, missus, two cauliflowers for the price of one … three pounds of carrots for the price of two … a proper bargain. Why, man, I’ll be out of pocket …’

Jackson and Molly strode on to the gothic archway and the gate which led to the bridle path past the castle and on to the deer park. There were few people about though the sun still shone, slanting its rays through the railings of the castle gardens and pointing up the ancient battlements. But the lovers weren’t interested in the castle, they were in a world of their own, going through the cattle gate at the end and on up the grass to the square deerhouse then back down into the valley where the Gaunless ran, hurrying to meet the Wear, brown and peaty and swollen now in winter time.

A wind had sprung up, keen and promising a frost later on, but here, in the small valley, they were sheltered from it though it soughed and whined through the high, bare branches of the trees. Molly felt as though they were the only people in the whole world. They could stay here, hidden away from everyone else, the war and all its dangers.

They paused beneath the branches of one of the oaks
which
had given the town its name, a thick, ancient tree with branches low and spreading, its carpet of dry brown leaves rustling under their feet. And it was all so perfectly natural, so
meant
to be, as Jackson’s arms went around her and Molly lifted her face for his kisses. He loosed her coat and his, undid the top button of her blouse and kissed the swell of her breast. She sighed in ecstasy, feeling the two of them cocooned in the warm blanket of their love.

‘You will marry me, won’t you, Molly?’ he asked urgently.

‘I will,’ she replied, and to her it was a dedication as binding as if she had said her vows in church.

‘My next leave? Even if I have to get a special licence?’

‘Your next leave.’

For a while she could think of nothing but the feel of his hands on her body, the surge of her response taking her by surprise at the strength of it. She was filled with the need to sink down on to the carpet of leaves with him and make love, full, total love.

An aeroplane went by overhead, then another. She heard them only as part of the background: the waters of the Gaunless rushing over stones, a lorry going up Durham Road in the distance, the wind. But for Jackson the engine noise brought him back to reality. He lifted his head, moved his hands back to the comparative safety of Molly’s waist. She moaned softly with her need, leaned even closer in to him.

‘We have to be sensible,’ he whispered. ‘You’re so
young
.’ That wasn’t really what he meant. He meant that he was going to war and couldn’t just make love and leave her. Suppose she was expecting a baby? Suppose he didn’t come back? What would she do then? She was just a girl herself, nobbut a bairn. When she opened her eyes they were dark with the want of him and his resolve almost went. But another flight went past. Five, no, six planes this time. He looked up to the sky. Hurricanes they were, flying low enough for him to see the roundels on their sides. The war was real and where would he be in a couple of weeks’ time?

‘Come on, Molly, it’s getting dark,’ he said and fastened her buttons again, then his own. They walked out of the park against the stiffening wind, apart now, not touching. He didn’t think he could bear to touch her without making love, not yet, not until his blood had cooled down.

The aeroplanes had had their effect on Molly, too. She didn’t know whether they were fighters or bombers but it had suddenly occurred to her that there were factories in Germany with girls filling bombs just as she was doing, and the thought of them dropping on Jackson and Harry and the rest of the Durham Light Infantry, and all the other soldiers going over there to Belgium or France or wherever they were going, filled her with unspeakable dread.

They caught the bus back to Eden Hope and sat close together on the narrow seat, holding hands. The bus filled up with people they knew; housewives with full baskets, men running to join the queue from Kingsway Football
Ground
, talking loudly of the match, arguing about the results. It had been a local derby, Shildon versus Bishop, and there were supporters of both teams. The bus was packed, men standing in the aisle, shouting across the heads of those sitting down. ‘The ref wants his eyes tested!’ being the mildest of the comments. Some of the men, young miners, looked at Jackson in his uniform with a mixture of envy and respect. Some spoke to him: ‘Good luck, lad.’ Or, ‘On leave are you, mate?’

A few of the women gave Molly peculiar looks and whispered to each other but she didn’t care, not now, not when she had Jackson beside her. Most of the folk in Eden Hope had accepted her back among them anyway. The scandal had been a nine days’ wonder. There were more important things to talk about now.

Alighting at the end of the rows, most of the women joined the men in calling ‘Goodnight!’ to them. It was already black dark as they walked down the back street, bumping into each other between the blacked-out houses for both of them had forgotten their flashlights. Jackson took her arm and led her into the yard and she felt cherished and looked after. Something of a novelty for Molly.

‘There’s a dance at the church hall the night,’ said Harry after they had got in and were eating their tea. Sausages and mash it was, with brown sauce, and dire warnings yet again from Maggie about how these would probably be the last they saw before the meat rationing came in.

‘There’s them that’s hoarding tins as fast as they can get a hold of them, but not me,’ she said self-righteously. Then had the grace to add, ‘I haven’t the money to do that any road.’

‘We’ll go, won’t we, Molly?’ Jackson said in answer to Harry. ‘A military two-step’ll go down a treat, eh?’

‘Oh, man, don’t be so old-fashioned,’ said Harry. ‘A nice why-dance is what I like.’

‘Why-dance?’ said Molly, puzzled.

‘Aye, you know, a slow waltz and a crowded floor and me just to say moving, me arms round a girl …’ He held his arms in front of him as though round a girl, his head on one side, his eyes half-closed, and they all laughed.

‘You haven’t got a partner,’ said Molly.

‘Who needs a partner? They’ll be falling over each other to dance with me, our Molly.’ He paused. ‘Any road, as it happens I’m meeting a lass inside. Wait till you see her an’ all. A blonde, just as high as my heart, curves in all the right places …’ His hands drew a figure of eight in the air.

‘Well, we’ll have to go now, pet, if only to see this beauty.’ Jackson grinned at Molly.

‘Aye, go on. Me an’ your dad are going to have a night by the fire listening to the wireless,’ said Maggie. Time was when Frank was down the club every Saturday night with his mates but things were different now.

The church hall was filling up nicely when they arrived. Molly left her coat in the cloakroom and combed her hair
in
front of the looking glass, surprised at her own reflection. Her eyes shone, her cheeks glowed. Why, she was almost pretty!

‘Well, look who’s here!’ a familiar voice said and there was Mona from the factory, standing beside her as she applied poppy red lipstick to her pert mouth.

‘Mona! What are you doing here? You live at Ferryhill, don’t you?’

‘Visiting me auntie,’ said her friend, pressing her lips together then inspecting them critically in the glass. ‘I’m here for the weekend, did I not tell you?’

‘You at the dance on your own?’ asked Molly. If she was, then in all civility she had to let her friend keep them company.

‘No, I’m with a fella.’ Mona grinned triumphantly. ‘Fast work, eh? A soldier an’ all, home on leave. I met him last night. By, he’s lovely an’ all, Molly, I think I’ve fallen for him. He likes me too, I can tell.’ She put a hand to her nape and flicked her long blonde hair back from her shoulders, arranging the front so that a lock fell forward in the manner of Veronica Lake. Her eyes twinkled up at Molly. ‘Right, let’s go. We’ll knock ’em dead, eh?’

Molly laughed and followed her out of the cloakroom to see her walk straight over to where Jackson and Harry were waiting by the side of the stage where a five-piece band, most of whom were members of the colliery brass band, were striking up the first dance. Jackson’s face was a study as Harry seized Mona round the waist and took a
whirl
round the floor, completing almost a whole circuit before other couples joined them.

‘You dancing?’ asked Jackson, and took Molly in his arms. They too began quickstepping to ‘Dancing Cheek to Cheek’. The hall was crowded, mostly with miners and their girls but there was a sprinkling of khaki and Air Force blue, a couple of sailors standing out in their navy blue.

Molly was in heaven with Jackson’s arms around her. They danced a Boston two step followed by the quickstep and then a waltz and a veleta, and then it was a ladies’ excuse-me quickstep. Molly hardly heard the announcements from the stage, she was in a world of her own, dreaming away, not wanting the evening to end, she was so happy. So it was a bit of a surprise when she felt a tap on the shoulder.

‘Excuse me!’

Jackson’s arms loosened reluctantly and Molly found herself left at the side of the floor while he whirled away with a girl with long black hair hanging down her back over a bright red dress which swirled out as they spun round. Feeling bereft she watched the dancers until she was caught up herself by a tall gangly youth who took her round the floor with more enthusiasm than skill. But it was not the thing to refuse to dance with anyone when you were without a partner, and anyway, she was so euphorically happy she even smiled when his foot descended with some force on hers.

‘Hey, watch what you’re doing!’

They stopped abruptly as the boy cannoned into another couple, knocking the girl from the arms of her partner.

‘Sorry, did I hurt you?’ the lad mumbled, his face bright red.

‘What do you think, you clumsy oaf?’ snapped Joan Pendle, rubbing her shoulder and wincing theatrically. For that was who it was, Joan Pendle, and she was dancing with Harry. Molly gazed up at him in surprise. He looked stiff and uncomfortable.

‘No harm done,’ he said. ‘Come on, Joan.’ He pulled her away and set off dancing again. There were only a few bars of the music left and Molly and her partner didn’t get started before it came to an end.

‘Blooming cheek, hasn’t she?’ Mona was at Molly’s elbow, gazing at Joan. ‘Who is she any road?’

‘Nobody,’ said Harry, hearing her as he came up. ‘She’s nobody. It’s the interval now, how about lemonades all round?’

Chapter Sixteen

‘THAT LASS HAS
her sights fixed on you,’ Jackson commented. He didn’t say which lass, he didn’t have to. They were sitting at the kitchen table having breakfast and for once the two of them were on their own for it was Monday morning and Maggie was out in the wash house in the yard, the rhythmic thumping of her possing the clothes in the zinc tub loud and clear.

‘Aye, well, she’s wasting her time,’ said Harry. He picked up the
Daily Herald
and glanced through it, quickly put it down again. ‘Funny war this, man,’ he said. ‘Nothing’s happening.’

‘It will soon enough,’ said Jackson. ‘Aye, but you want to watch yourself, Harry, she’s a determined sort. Look how she butted in for that excuse-me quickstep. Brass-faced I call it after all she’s said about your Molly.’

‘Well, it’ll do her no good, will it?’ asked Harry. ‘Any road, I’ve a fancy for little Mona, she’s promised to write to me.’ He grinned at Jackson and changed the subject.

‘You going down to Bishop to buy that ring?’

‘Yes.’ He glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece and
got
to his feet. ‘I’d best be off, catch the bus.’

‘I’ll come with you, I’ve nothing else to do, not ’til Mona finishes work. We’re going to the pictures after.’

The girls were on first shift and Mona was still staying with her aunt in Eden Hope. She’d only known Harry for four days yet they were going steady. It was happening all around them, for a lot of young miners had been in the territorials before the war and had recently been drafted. There was a sense of urgency somehow, a feeling of time being short.

The girls had travelled in to work together on the train, gravitated towards each other during the break.

‘I wish we were getting engaged the night,’ Mona said as they drank lukewarm tea and ate currant buns in the canteen. ‘By, you never told me you had a dream boat for a brother!’ She grinned, eyes sparkling over the rim of her mug.

‘Well, I can’t let everyone know, I might get knocked over in the rush,’ said Molly, laughing before turning serious. ‘Aw, come on, you’ve only known him four days. You can’t get engaged to a fella when you’ve just known him four days.’

‘I could!’ Mona said fervently. ‘If he asks me, I could. We’re going to the pictures this afternoon. I’m going to take him to see a love story if I can. Do you know what’s on at the Majestic or the Hippodrome?’

‘Can’t say I do,’ said Molly as the buzzer went and they joined the crowd going back to work.

If anything the rest of the shift dragged by even more slowly than the one on the Friday before. Molly’s hands were busy but the work came to her automatically now. Her mind was left to wander happily on thoughts of Jackson and the future. Because, she told herself, nothing was going to happen to Jackson or Harry. They were experienced soldiers, weren’t they? Just occasionally Joan Pendle came to her mind, the way she’d butted in on Harry and Mona in the dance. Why had she done that? Probably it was just an urge to make mischief, thought Molly, Joan was a nasty piece of work all right.

There was a surprise for the two girls as the train pulled into Shildon. There were Jackson and Harry on the platform, running up and down, looking for them through the windows. Neither girl saw them at first. Mona was still talking about Harry. It seemed as though every other sentence had to be about him.