Sheila was fed up with Jack. Margaret was furious with Gordon. Neither woman knew what to do about what was upsetting them. Jack wouldn't listen to Sheila: he either ignored her or snarled at her. Gordon was away in the forces: Margaret couldn't sneer at him or nag him, he was out of her reach.
One morning, after Margaret had seen her children safely onto the school premises, she lingered by the gate to have a chat with Sheila. She often did that. They were not the only ones. There were several other mothers there too. You had to be careful what you said. Some of the females had big ears.
"Why don't you come home with me and the baby. I'll make you a cup of tea?" Sheila offered. Her house was only just down the road near the railway bridge.
"Thanks," Margaret said. She was in the mood for some friendly company. She felt that it was time for her to unburden herself. Sheila and she could have a proper talk, all on their own, at Sheila's. They sat either side of the fire with cups of tea. Margaret refused a biscuit, knowing that they were in short supply. "How did you feel after Jack went to Spain?" she asked her friend.
"Better than I have since he came back!" Sheila responded, with some feeling.
"Why's that?"
Sheila had nursed her grievances against her husband for months. She was more than ready to exchange confidences with Margaret. The pair of them proceeded to do demolition jobs on their respective husbands.
"I sometimes think that Jack's completely crazy," said Sheila. She'd said it to his face the night before. She'd told him he was barmy. His response before retiring to his den was , "I must be or I wouldn't have taken up with you!"
"There's no living with him since he came back from Spain," said Sheila. "He always had a bit of a chip on his shoulder. But he's becoming worse by the minute.He's full of frustrations."
"How do you mean?"
"His problem seems to be he thinks that he can wield a magic wand and put the world to rights," Sheila explained. "When he reads the news, he often goes berserk. I try to calm him down. All he says is, 'What do you know about it?'
"Then he storms off upstairs and reads his books. He writes pointless letters to people who think like him.
"He's obsessed with what's wrong with the world," she continued, ruefully. "I wish he'd pay a bit more attention to what's right under his nose and give me a some support. It's hard enough as it is with the three kids to look after and all of the housework and shopping to do. It's been worse this week because the baby's teething and keeps me awake half the night crying."
Margaret sympathised, "That's the trouble with men, they think that they're the only ones who do any work. I'd like to see them trying to do half what we have to do!"
Sheila replied, "I don't mind how much I have to do. But I'd like a bit of praise for my efforts now and again. All I have is criticism and bad temper from him!"
"He could be worse."
"How could he?"
Margaret decided to confide in her friend what she'd found out from Joyce and told Sheila about Gordon seeing another woman.
Sheila did not take a very serious view of it. "Don't you think you're over-reacting a bit love? I mean, Gordon's a nice easy-going chap. Wouldn't hurt a fly. He's devoted to the kids. Thinks the world of them. I'm sure he wouldn't do anything to hurt you. I bet he had a reason for seeing that woman. Who was she? Did he say?"
"No, he didn't. Wouldn't tell," Margaret sighed. "All he told me was a pack of lies. I still don't know the truth of the matter. He can be very close-mouthed when he feels like it. I'd just like to know who she is. Don't you worry, I'll find out one day."
"Perhaps you expect too much of him."
"Maybe, but I think I'd rather have a bad-tempered husband than a womaniser."
"Oh come on Margaret, that's laying it on a bit thick," Sheila retorted. "Gordon's no womaniser. If he wanted to be, where would he find the money for a bit of fancy stuff on the side? You know how hard-up you've always been. He hands all his money over to you.
"You've told me that he's sending you more than his Air Force marriage allowance home every week since he's been away." she pointed out. "It must be hard for him with nothing in his pocket to spend on himself. No home comforts and no comforts away from home."
Each woman had a more rose-coloured view of the other's husband than the wife herself. Neither had any advice to give the other, except to count her blessings, so they moved on to gossiping about some of the other goings on that they knew about. Wartime affairs were going on all over the place. Two of Sheila's neighbours had husbands away in the Army and they were down at Morecambe four nights a week, enjoying themselves with Airmen.
The two virtuous wives concluded that there were a lot worse husbands than Jack and Gordon, and both felt better for having had a good moan about their men. It was a case of soldiering on and putting up with what they didn't like. There was no alternative.
"Apart from anything else, the children have to be thought of. They come first. Their lives mustn't be upset," said Margaret, forgetting that Sheila had already split up from her husband in Durham when she'd already had Rob by him.
They changed the subject. Sheila wondered if Margaret still liked her new neighbours.
"They're not that new now are they? They've been living next door for months. They're just fine. We're not on Christian name terms but they are very nice. Both extremely pleasant. And our children are great friends with theirs. Michael goes next door to play with their John.
"Their little Doreen plays with Gwyn. John's a delicate boy and prefers indoor games. Doreen will be starting school soon and she'll be in the infants' class with our two after Christmas."
"What's he like?"
"Mr Martin? He's okay. They have things better than mine in their house. A lot like you really. Carpets instead of lino, expensive furniture, a fridge and electricity heats their water. Some new fangled thing called an immersion heater is what they call it. So they don't need a fire in the summer. But they aren't braggers. They're fine."
Sheila was pleased for her. "If you have good neighbours, it's a lot to be thankful for!"
Margaret told her more. "Michael says they listen to serious music in the evenings He can hear it when he's in the other room playing with John. And Mr Martin is an artist. I can smell the oil paint, when I go to borrow something from them. She asks me into the kitchen and lends stuff to me if I need something. Saves me having to go straight away to the shops.
"Yes, we've become very good neighbours. How about you? What are yours like?"
Sheila frowned. "I can't say. I say hello to one or two and that's it. You know Jack. I've had my orders. He doesn't want anyone in the house unless he knows them and gives permission. Remember how embarrassed I was, leaving you out in the rain, when we lived up near Williamson's Park? I felt so ashamed."
"Why do you do everything he tells you It's your house as well as his!"
Sheila frowned, "The atmosphere's bad enough without making it worse. Anyway, tell me more about the Martins. They sound very nice."
"Well, they're about ten years older than us. Must have been married late. She's a housewife and does most of her shopping locally. I've never seen her waiting for a bus to go up town. He looks a bit strange the way he dresses. He's something of an oddity. He works with a dentist. I think he makes false teeth.
"I think he's what you call a dental mechanic." she continued. "He goes to work by bus from Scale Hall Lane, to Morecambe. He wears an expensive black overcoat and a homburg hat. It's a laugh really, because every time he passes a woman in the street, he raises his hat and greets her politely. He raises his hat everytime. He looks and acts a bit pompous. He has a moustache, like Jack, but his is darker and wider. He wears dark-rimmed spectacles. Gordon says he looks like Groucho Marx."
"Is he good-looking?" asked Sheila.
"Not really! Quite a homely type. Very polite and formal with itl. But that's just his way with people. He's not frightened of digging his garden in old trousers and braces. Oh, and by the way, every Friday, when he comes back from Morecambe, he carries a nice bunch of flowers home for Mrs Martin. When the children were smaller, I couldn't even persuade Gordon to push the pram, in case his mates laughed at him. As for carrying a bunch of flowers! Need I say more."
"I know! Jack's the same with shopping. You'll never catch him holding a carrier-bag! 'Women's work!' he'll say.
"One day, I told him that what I was carrying was too heavy for me. You won't believe what his reply was - 'Should have put it in two bags! It would have been easier for you that way.' -
"Wasn't that thoughtful of him?" she laughed, wryly. "Always a man full of helpful ideas, is my Jack!"
Margaret thanked Sheila for the tea and for the company. Before she went, she remembered to ask Sheila if there was any shopping she wanted done. She put her coat on and was ready to go.
"Just one last thing about the Martins before I love you and leave you. Michael told them Gordon was going off to Blackpool into the R.A.F. Do you know he came round the evening before he went and asked to see Gordon? I asked him in and he made quite a speech."
"What sort of a speech?"
Margaret remembered that it went something like, "Well, Mr Watson, I've heard you are going away in the morning to do your bit for the country. As you have probably surmised, I'm too old this time but I was there in the thick of it, in 1918. I know how hard it will be for your family. But I will be here to help and anything that Mrs Watson needs she has only to ask. I will be here to assist and support her.
'I wish you the best of good luck Mr Watson! God willing, we will win quickly and this business will soon be finished.'"
Margaret said that his words were emotionally moving. "He was nearly crying by the time he finished and when he shook Gordon's hand and said good bye to him."
Sheila had put the baby to bed when they'd first arrived back from the school gate. Now, Lily started to cry and called for her mother from upstairs."I'll go," said Margaret, "and let you get on with things. I'll see you at lunchtime."
Soon after this, Michael had to take on the responsibility of going to school and returning home without his Mam, with Gwyn holding his hand all the way. Luckily, there was very little wartime traffic because of petrol rationing. Anyway, they did not have to cross any roads. They simply kept to the same side as their house, all the way down Sefton Drive, along Bowland Drive, round the bend at Oxcliffe Corner and along Torrisholme Road to school.
Margaret had had to find work. There was not enough money for them to survive unless she earned some cash. She hated the children going on their own and tried desperately to be there when they arrived home at lunchtime and after school. Just in case she was late, she left the back door key hidden for them in the coal house.She repeated her instructions to Michael over and over again.
"Walk! Don't run!"
"Yes, Mam."
"Hold her hand! All the way!"
"Yes, Mam."
"See her all the way to her classroom!"
"Yes, Mam."
And to Gwyn, "You be a good girl and do everything that Michael says!"
"Yes, Mam," said Gwyn.
Nan met them from school on Thursday afternoons and took them home to Sefton Drive. Michael had to take Gwyn, just the same, to see her at her house on Hareruns, every Sunday morning. It was what his Dad had always done before he went away. He gave Michael his instructions before he went in the Forces. "Nan is lonely without your Granddad, so don't forget son. You will go and see your Nan every Sunday, won't you?"
"Yes, Dad."
Michael didn't mind walking to school and to Nan's holding Gwyn's hand. He thought that she was really cute. She wasn't a moaner or a sniveller like some girls. His friends liked her. If they met anyone from school they all said, "Hello Michael!" and "Hello, Gwyn!" They never ignored her.
Some kids' sisters were given nick names like 'Droopy Drawers' and 'Snot Face' but nobody ever called Gwyn anything like that. All of the other kids accepted her for what she was: quiet, sociable, modest and pretty. Michael was jealous when Rob made a fuss of her and helped her too much when she joined in boys' games. Michael never made a fuss like that of his sister Rosa!
The day that his Dad went into the Air Force, the three of them had walked with Gordon to Castle Station to see him off. Nan had come to spend a little time with her older son before he left. She stayed behind at Sefton Drive and looked after, "Those two nice little boys," the evacuees, Billy and Mickey.
"No need for a bus! We'll save on the fares. It's not raining. I'll carry Gwyn if she becomes tired," Gordon said.
"All right, provided we give ourselves plenty of time. None of your racing! We're not out to beat any world records," said Margaret.
When the train came, Gordon picked the children up, hugged them and kissed them. "You're the man of the house now," he said to Michael. "Look after your Mam and Gwyn."
"Yes, Dad," said Michael. He hated his father going.
"Do you have to go, Dad?" he asked, hanging on to his hand.
"Yes I do Michael. Just you be a big boy. No crying, mind! I'll be home to see you soon."
"None of the other boys' dads are going. It's not fair!"
He was pleased when Gordon gave Margaret a long hug and kiss. He hadn't seen him do that for a long time. The guard blew his whistle and waved his green flag. Dad leaned out of the window and kept on waving as the train drew breath and puffed away out of the station. They were all waving back at Gordon until they could see him no more.
Michael could not remember seeing his mother cry before. She took out a handkerchief and dabbed her eyes."Come on children," she said," we'll go and catch a bus. I don't feel like walking."
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