Kitty Neale - A Mother’s Sacrifice

‘Maybe,’ Glenda answered as she realised that by now she should know what her husband was like. She should be able to please him instead of continually making him angry. ‘Now I think about it, Maude, maybe I was a bit moody last night. He was still out of order for hitting me, but I suppose I asked for it really.’

‘There you are. You know what starts him off so make sure you don’t do it again. Harry’s a good man, Glenda. You could have done a lot worse. Blimey, when I think of all the girls that used to come sniffing round my doorstep for him. He was a bit of a catch, you know. And now look at him – working hard for you and Johnnie, doing that bricklaying in all weathers, and, like you said, he’s a proper good dad. All right, so he likes a pint after work, but he bloody well deserves it after grafting all day. He doesn’t smoke, he doesn’t gamble and I know he wouldn’t go chasing after any skirt. You’ve got a good ’un there, my girl. You’ve just gotta learn not to wind him up.’

‘Thanks, Maude, I appreciate your advice, but please don’t say anything to him about this. Like you say, I don’t want to wind him up again.’

‘Mum’s the word!’ Maude answered as she pursed her lips and pretended to zip them.

As she drained the last of her tea, Glenda thought about getting home and making sure the house was spotless for when Harry finished work, with fresh sheets on the bed, dinner on the table and her looking ravishing. She couldn’t fight her husband, but she could make sure that she didn’t give him a reason to knock her about again.

Billy Myers pulled up the collar of his long trenchcoat, shielding his face from the chilly wind. He had been hanging around on the high street for nearly an hour, dodging anyone who might recognise him. After all, he couldn’t risk it getting back to his foreman that he was well enough to go shopping but was too sick to work.

As he stamped his feet to relieve the numbness, he saw Glenda Jenkins standing at the crossing with her navy-blue pram loaded with bags. At last, he thought, pleased that his efforts hadn’t been in vain. He had been looking forward to this moment since he’d seen her in the Castle a week before. He quickly darted into the ironmonger’s shop and sneaked a look through the window, waiting for her to approach. Her head was lowered against the inclement weather and her shoulders hunched as she hurried over the crossing, but Billy’s heartbeat quickened as he admired her long hair whipping at her face in the wind.

Just as she was about to pass the shop, he made a dash for the door. ‘Hello, Glenda,’ he said with a smile, trying to appear casual.

‘Oh, hello, Billy.’

Billy noticed she didn’t smile back at him but supposed it was because she was obviously in a hurry.

‘You look a bit overloaded there,’ he said as he pointed at the bags on the pram. ‘Let me give you a hand. Where you off to? Washday at the baths?’

‘Er, yes, I am, though I’m going to the butcher’s first before the queue gets too long. Thanks, Billy, but I can manage.’

‘Nah, come on, I’ll take these for you.’ Before Glenda could object further, he had grabbed the two large bags and was walking along beside her. ‘It’s a cold one today,’ said Billy, furiously trying to find conversation. ‘Winter will be here before we know it.’ He had planned this moment all week since seeing Glenda in the pub, but hadn’t thought about what he would say.

Glenda didn’t answer. She just nodded as she looked ahead.

‘How’s the boy?’ Billy asked, nodding towards Johnnie, who was sleeping soundly in the warmth and shelter of his pram.

‘He’s fine, thanks, Billy.’ A few moments’ silence fell as they arrived outside the butcher’s to see that they’d made it ahead of the queue. ‘Thanks for your help,’ Glenda said, ‘I can take it from here.’

‘It’s all right. I could do with getting out of this wind for a bit anyway.’

‘There’s no need, really. I don’t wanna hold you up.’

She’s always so polite, thought Billy before answering, ‘You won’t be holding me up. I’ve got plenty of time to kill this morning so don’t worry about me. You just get what shopping you need and I’ll carry these washbags for you.’

Billy smiled as Glenda sighed but entered the butcher’s, where a gust of wind was blowing sawdust around the floor. He stood awkwardly as she handed over her ration book and ordered her small piece of meat, then held the door open for her to leave. I’ll show her 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.’