‘Good weekend, Nev?’ asked Nobby on Monday morning. ‘Were you out down the pub? Making the most of your final months being young, free and single?’
Neville rubbed his eyes. He didn’t want to admit it but working back-to-back shifts over the past couple of days had been more tiring than he’d thought. He’d had hardly any sleep and, worse still, he’d hardly seen Hazel. But it was going to be worth it, to give her the wedding she so badly wanted. ‘Did a spot of overtime,’ he said. ‘Saves me spendin’ the cash down the boozer.’
Nobby raised his eyebrows. He didn’t believe in working weekends. Nothing kept him from the pub on Friday and Saturday nights; that was the whole point of going to work – to have the money to sink a few pints with his mates. ‘Don’t you go wasting your youth,’ he told the younger man. ‘These are the best years of your life, these are. Plenty of time for overtime when you’re hitched.’
‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ said Neville, keen to get away from Nobby, who he found annoying at the best of times, even when he wasn’t half-asleep on his feet. He turned to hang up his coat. ‘Right, back to me usual station.’ He dragged himself over to his bench.
Nobby pulled a face. Seemed as if young Neville wasn’t cut out to be the life and soul of the party after all. ‘Suit yourself,’ he muttered.
‘What’s up?’ asked Bill, unwinding his scarf in Chelsea colours.
Nobby shook his head. ‘Probably nothing,’ he said. ‘That Neville’s missed a weekend down the pub so he could do overtime. Funny way of enjoying yourself, ain’t it?’
‘That’ll be his bird,’ said Bill. ‘I bumped into her last week down the market and she said he was going to do more shifts. They’re saving up.’
‘Bloody hell, he don’t want to be dancing to her tune already.’ Nobby didn’t like the sound of that. ‘Time enough for all that, that’s what I told him.’
‘I take it you were down the Queen Vic as usual, then,’ said Bill, not wanting to start the week with Nobby in a bad temper. ‘I went to the game. Bloody freezing it was too.’
‘That’s why you want to spend your weekend in a nice warm pub,’ Nobby told him. ‘You take my advice next time and read about your game in the paper somewhere where you can sit by the fire and have a drop of beer.’
‘That’s called my own front room, mate,’ said Bill cheerfully. ‘But love my mum as I do, you can’t beat the terraces on a Saturday. We’ll agree to differ, shall we?’
Nobby pretended to agree. But he wasn’t happy.
Cora stood on the sawdust-covered floor of Fred Chapman’s butcher’s shop, nodding her head in approval. ‘You ain’t done bad for yourself even with all the upset of your mum passing away,’ she said. ‘You keep this place in good nick, I’ll say that much.’
Fred nodded as he wiped his hands on his butcher’s apron. He could tell it was tighter than ever but try as he might, his waistline kept on growing. Not like Cora. She was skinny as a rake, always had been. ‘Now you need feeding up a bit,’ he said. ‘How about a nice piece of brisket? Or some chuck steak?’
‘My girls would be thrilled,’ said Cora. Usually she would have offal or oxtail, and make it go further by cooking lots of pearl barley or potatoes with it. What a good job Fred had needed that pack of cigarettes when he did.
‘Look, you can have this bit and I’ll add the rest of the tray as well.’ Fred leant over the counter and began putting the bright red meat into a bag. ‘This was left over as a customer ordered it but never turned up. So you’d be doing me a favour.’ It was a lie but Cora didn’t need to know that. He could tell she wouldn’t want charity. ‘And how are the girls? They must be all grown up now.’
‘Linda’s married, living down in Kent, and got a three-year-old,’ said Cora, her face lighting up at the thought of her beloved June. ‘She’s done well for herself. Hazel’s just got engaged, nice enough boy but never going to set the world on fire. Still, he loves her and that counts for somethin’. As for Alison …’ She looked heavenwards. ‘May God forgive me, I don’t know what to do with that girl. She’s seventeen now. She’s not long got the push from the factory she was at and can’t get nothing else, just when we got the expense of the wedding to cope with. She don’t seem to have no get up and go. Just sits around moping.’
‘Really?’ Fred tried to think of the last time he’d seen Cora’s daughters. It would have been well before his mother had her final illness. Even so, he didn’t remember Alison being useless. He could tell from Cora’s expression that this was a sore point and didn’t want to get himself involved in something he’d regret; it wasn’t like him to make rash decisions. But the coincidence seemed too good to miss.
‘Really,’ Cora said bitterly. ‘Though I says it as shouldn’t, she’s got no vim at all. I can’t understand who she takes after. You know what Jack was like.’
‘I do,’ said Fred at once. ‘He was a good man, Cora, a man in a million. He was like a big brother to me and I know how tough it was for you when he was killed.’ He paused and made up his mind. Jack had stood up for him on many occasions when he was growing up; now was his chance to pay him back by helping his family. ‘I just found out my shop girl is leaving Battersea. Says her folks want to get away.’
‘Can’t blame them,’ said Cora instantly. ‘I’d do the same if I could.’
‘But it leaves me short,’ Fred went on. ‘I can’t run this place on my own, not and keep up standards. I don’t know if your Alison would be interested, but I need someone to start tomorrow. She wouldn’t have to know the business, I could teach her everything. I just need someone I can trust, and I could trust her, couldn’t I?’
You could trust her to spoil your day, Cora had to stop herself from saying. Then she gave herself a shake. This was an ideal offer. It might not bring Hazel the wedding dress of her dreams, but they would all eat better than they’d done for years and it would get Alison out from under her feet. ‘I have to warn you that she ain’t improved in looks or temperament at all,’ she said. ‘She might scare off your customers so you’ll want to keep her out the back. But credit where credit’s due,’ she added, hoping she hadn’t said too much and made him change his mind. ‘She’s reliable, that’s what her reference says.’
‘There you are then,’ said Fred. ‘I don’t need someone with film star looks round here. If she can add up orders and sweep a floor, that’ll do me to start with. And from what I remember she’s a bright girl.’
‘Well, I’ll get her to come down tomorrow and you can see if she’s suitable. She should be very grateful. You’re a good man, Fred Chapman, and don’t think I don’t know it.’
‘So we’ll be happy all round,’ beamed Fred. ‘You get that nice bit of beef home and have a slap-up meal. I’d stew it, myself. Tasty as can be when it’s stewed. And I’ll see your girl tomorrow.’ As Cora saw herself out, Fred hoped he’d done the right thing. But surely the daughter of his old friend couldn’t be all bad. Her mother was just tired. He knew how difficult it was to be cooped up with a family member all day every day.
