When Bobby knocked on Gloria’s front door, his heart leapt on seeing that it was Dorothy who answered, even if the look she was giving him was far from welcoming.
Dorothy kept her eyes on Bobby as she turned her head slightly and shouted out, ‘Oh, look who’s honoured us with his presence.’
Gloria came bustling out of the kitchen. ‘Stop it with the snarky comments, Dor, and let him in.’
Bobby tipped an imaginary hat at Dorothy, who pulled the door wide open and stood aside.
‘Hello, Mam.’ Bobby stooped to give Gloria a hug and a kiss on the cheek. It wasn’t quite the bear hug she’d had when he’d arrived back home last week, but she’d take what she could get. He was here, wasn’t he. Even though it was with conditions. ‘Come and sit down and I’ll get us all a cuppa.’ She waved her hand over to the table.
‘And don’t worry,’ Dorothy added as she followed him into the flat, ‘the evil Jack Crawford is nowhere to be seen.’
Bobby sighed but didn’t say anything. Jack’s absence had been his one stipulation to his mam when he’d caught her after work and said he’d like to come and see her at the flat and meet his little sister properly. He had also purposely asked to come on Friday, having learnt from Polly that every Friday Dorothy, and sometimes Angie, would go to see Hope before their night out at the Ritz. It explained why she had been so done up the night of his arrival.
‘Ah, there she is,’ Bobby said, his face lighting up on seeing his sister sitting on the rug with her dollies. He pulled out a chocolate bar from his trouser pocket. ‘A little treat from your big brother Bobby.’ He crouched down next to Hope, whose little face lit up. Her hands stretched out and she took the chocolate.
‘Luckily, she’s already had her tea,’ said Dorothy.
Bobby looked up to see her towering over him, her arms folded.
‘So it’s OK to give her the chocolate, but check next time,’ she said.
Bobby suppressed a smile. ‘Roger that, ma’am.’ He touched his forehead in a mock salute.
‘And Gloria always makes sure Hope offers round any treats she gets, so she learns how to share.’
‘Dor!’ Gloria shouted through from the kitchen. ‘Give me a hand in here, will you?’
Dorothy hesitated before doing Gloria’s bidding.
Half an hour later, they had all sunk a pot of tea, Hope had consumed the entire chocolate bar, after no one had taken up the offer of a chunk, and after a brief frenzy of activity playing hide-and-seek with Bobby – quite some feat in such a small flat – she was on her last legs and struggling to keep her eyes open.
‘Can I read her a bedtime story?’ Bobby asked.
‘Storiee … Bobbieee,’ Hope’s voice chirped up, although she was already starting to slur with tiredness.
Dorothy opened her mouth to sanction the reading of just a few pages, but Gloria managed to beat her to it. ‘Course yer can. There’s a stack by her cot.’
As Bobby read the story of The Tale of Two Bad Mice, Gloria tidied up the cups and saucers and the crumb-strewn plate that had been piled with biscuits. She was glad to see her boy still had a good appetite. Perhaps next time he’d stay for a proper meal.
Dorothy stood guard at the end of the short hallway, watching as Bobby sat next to the cot with the book open on his lap. The child’s chair he was on made him look like a giant. He was good with Hope, she’d give him that.
Seeing him give Hope a goodnight kiss on the forehead, Dorothy went back into the living room.
‘I’m off, Mam!’ Bobby ducked his head into the kitchen. ‘You take care in that yard,’ he added. It was another reason he didn’t like Jack. If he was any kind of man, he wouldn’t let Bobby’s mam work in a shipyard, of all places. ‘Oh, and Mam?’
‘Yes?’
‘I’m gonna write Gordon a letter tonight.’
‘It’s all right, I’ve already written to him. Told him everything,’ she said. She’d actually written it the night Bobby had turned up – after he’d left. Better late than never.
Bobby wondered what Gordon would make of it all – hopefully, he’d write soon and tell him.
‘I’m off as well, Glor,’ Dorothy said, picking up her handbag and gas mask. ‘I need to drag Angie off that phone and out on the town.’ Dorothy had told Gloria on arriving that Angie wouldn’t be coming as Quentin had called, which meant that ‘the whole world had to stop’. Gloria had laughed and said, ‘Just as it does when Toby calls.’
‘Enjoy yerselves,’ Gloria said. ‘See yer tomorrow.’
Dorothy pulled a face. ‘One of these days we’ll have a Saturday off,’ she said.
‘Not while Rosie’s on a mission,’ Gloria laughed.
Bobby waited by the open door, allowing Dorothy to leave first.
‘Oh, and Glor,’ Dorothy said, turning as she left, ‘say hi from me to the devil incarnate – sorry, I mean, Jack.’ She threw Bobby a stinging look. ‘Send him my regards.’
After they’d both left, Gloria continued to stand in the middle of the flat, staring at the closed door, shaking her head. She’d give her son one thing – he had the patience of a saint.
Dorothy looked at Bobby as he too turned right when they reached the top of the stone steps from Gloria’s flat.
‘You don’t have to walk me home, you know? I’m more than capable of putting one foot in front of the other.’ As she spoke, she demonstrated by lifting one foot and putting it down on the pavement. She repeated the same with her other foot.
‘It’s how I’ve been brought up,’ Bobby explained. ‘Like Hope being taught to share, Mam taught Gordon and me that we must always walk a woman home, especially at night.’ He smiled at her as they continued to walk the short distance along the Borough Road before turning right into Foyle Street. ‘If you have any complaints, you’re going to have to take them up with my mam.’
As they walked across the cobbles, Dorothy nearly went over on her ankle. Bobby caught her arm before she went flying. Once again, just like last week, there was a shock of static as they touched.
‘Whoa, nearly,’ Bobby said.
‘I’m fine,’ Dorothy said, yanking her arm away from him and carefully walking over to the pavement. ‘What is it with you?’ She rubbed her arm. ‘You give me a shock every time we touch.’
Bobby laughed. ‘Perhaps it’s you that’s giving me the shock.’
Dorothy tutted. As they approached the entrance to her flat, she eyed him. ‘I just don’t understand why you don’t like Jack?’
Bobby looked at Dorothy. ‘So, it’s the Ritz tonight, is it?’
‘So, I’m guessing your way of getting out of answering a question you deem too personal or too intrusive is to simply ignore it, or pretend you haven’t heard?’
Bobby infuriated her more by simply smiling.
‘Do you realise you are exploiting a disability?’ she sniped.
Bobby laughed. ‘Well, it’s got to have some advantages.’ He turned to leave. ‘See you tomorrow at work.’
‘Not if I see you first,’ Dorothy mumbled, knowing it sounded churlish, but not caring.
‘The coast clear?’ Jack joked as he let himself into the flat.
Gloria walked over to him and kissed him on the lips.
‘One child is fast asleep in bed. The other two have left.’ Gloria smiled. ‘The coast is well and truly clear.’
Jack pulled her close.
‘Everything will sort itself out, you’ll see,’ he told her. He knew Gloria was hurt by Bobby’s refusal to accept her new family in its entirety, but it had also not been as traumatic as it might have been. Bobby wanted to see his mam and be a big brother to his little sister. If his mother’s new fella didn’t figure in the equation, that didn’t matter. He wasn’t going anywhere. Nothing would ever take him away from Gloria or part him from Hope again. As long as he could be a father to Hope and hold the woman he loved in his arms every night, he could put up with just about anything.
Bobby, he was sure, would come round in time.
Jack understood how it might look. Gloria was divorced and he was still married – to one of the richest women in the town to boot. Those who didn’t know him might think he was hanging in there, wanting to be taken back into his wife’s arms – even more, back to a life of luxury. Just the thought of it made Jack feel ill. He would rather sleep on a bed of nails for the rest of his life than ever live under the same roof as Miriam, let alone share a bed with her.
As he watched Gloria go into the kitchen, thoughts of Miriam pushed their way into his mind. When was she coming back from Scotland? And when was she going to serve divorce papers? He’d have expected them to plop on the doormat well before now, especially as she clearly had undisputed grounds for a divorce: her husband had committed adultery, he had fathered a child by another woman and he was living in sin. She certainly had enough evidence, so why was she being so slow off the mark?