Chapter Twenty-Eight

December

Dorothy was walking as fast as she was talking. She’d hardly drawn breath since Bobby had come to the flat to pick her up.

‘Quite a momentous day, isn’t it?’ It was so cold she could see her breath.

‘It is. The end of the Home Guard,’ Bobby said, adjusting his tie nervously. And that momentous day hadn’t ended.

‘If anything says we’re going to win this war, then this does.’ Dorothy continued talking quickly. ‘No invasion, no need for gas masks, no more blackout. And now no Home Guard.’

They overtook an elderly couple as they passed the front of the museum.

‘Gloria said Helen’s taking Hope to see the stand-down parade in Roker Park,’ Dorothy continued.

‘That’s what I heard too,’ Bobby said. He had a bottle of Scotch, loosely wrapped in tissue, in one hand, and a small posy of flowers in the other.

Dorothy looked at him. ‘You sure you don’t want me to take the flowers? Then you can hold my hand.’

Bobby relinquished the bouquet and took Dorothy’s hand. They turned left and started the long walk up Burdon Road.

‘It’s so weird,’ Dorothy said, enjoying the feel of his hand on hers, ‘that Helen is your stepsister.’

‘Will be when Mam and Jack actually marry,’ Bobby said.

‘Although that seems likely to be a while off,’ Dorothy said. ‘The solicitor Jack’s got – what’s his name, Mr Emery? Anyway, he’s just had notice from the courts that Miriam’s lawyers have declared their intention of contesting the divorce. I’ve never heard of anything so ridiculous.’ Dorothy knew she was rambling. Her heart was racing, as were the thoughts in her head. What happened if Angie was wrong and Bobby met her family and ran a mile? They were bound to be a nightmare. Why, oh why had she agreed to do this?

They kept up their pace as they walked alongside the perimeter fence of Mowbray Park. A thin veil of sparkling white frost could be seen on the grass and on the bare branches of the trees.

‘Are you sure you want to go for a walk in Backhouse Park afterwards?’ Bobby asked. ‘We might just freeze to death.’

‘Yes,’ Dorothy said, ‘most definitely. Honestly, I go to sleep at night and all I can see is grey metal. I’m craving nature. Anything green. Actually, anything but grey.’

Bobby smiled. He wondered if Dorothy’s craving to see a world other than metal and machinery was because of the tales she insisted he told her about his life at sea and the countries he had visited with the navy.

‘And you’re still up for a full Sunday lunch?’ Dorothy asked, knowing it was too late for them to pull out now. Again, she berated herself for agreeing to go through with this ordeal at all, never mind have a meal with her parents and siblings.

‘Oh, blast!’ Bobby suddenly said. ‘I forgot to get something for your sisters.’

‘Oh, don’t worry, they get enough. They’re spoilt rotten.’

‘No, sorry, Dor, I can’t turn up empty-handed.’ Bobby exhaled. ‘I can’t believe I forgot.’ Too damn nervous, that’s why. Damn it!

Seeing a tram, they jumped on. A few stops later, they disembarked and hurried to a little tobacconist at the top of Villette Road that also sold sweets and seemed to be open all hours.

When they arrived at the front door of Dorothy’s grandiose family home, they were running quarter of an hour late. Dorothy knew this would not get the meeting off to a good start and when her stepfather opened the door, she was proved right.

Glancing down at his stepdaughter and her new bloke, he made a point of raising his arm and looking at his watch.

‘Apologies for our late arrival,’ Bobby said. He stretched out his hand, but it was too late; he found himself looking at Frank’s back as he disappeared into the house.

‘Come in! Come in!’ Dorothy’s mother appeared in her husband’s place. ‘You’ll catch your death out there.’

They both stepped into the house.

‘Oh, are they for me?’ Mrs Williams said, looking at the flowers in her daughter’s hand.

‘Yes,’ Dorothy said, looking at Bobby. ‘They’re from Bobby.’ She offered her mother the small posy.

Mrs Williams forced a smile. In her day, the suitor carried his own presents and handed them over in person. She looked Bobby up and down. His coat looked worn and the suit he was wearing underneath told her what she and her husband had suspected – her daughter’s new beau, unlike the last offering, was obviously not well off. Not by any stretch. She looked at the pitiful bouquet, then caught sight of the bottle of Scotch he’d brought. It wasn’t even a single malt.

‘Come through,’ she said, not offering to take their coats.

Dorothy glared at her mother. ‘I’ll just hang our coats up.’ She shook off her own and then took Bobby’s old navy coat from him. She couldn’t even look him in the eye, she felt so embarrassed. Their welcome had been frostier than the weather outside.

When they walked into the living room, Mr Williams was already pouring himself a drink. Bobby walked across the room and handed him the bottle of whisky and once again put out his hand to shake.

‘Bobby Armstrong,’ he said.

Mr Williams had no choice but to take it. The handshake was unenthusiastic.

‘Frank Williams,’ he said.

All of a sudden, the door swung open and four young girls charged into the room, pushing each other aside to be the first to meet their big sister’s new fella.

The eldest girl put out her hand.

Bobby took her small, white hand in his own giant one and shook it gently.

The sisters started to giggle.

‘Present!’ demanded the youngest one, whom Bobby knew to be around three years old.

Bobby laughed. ‘Well, you’re lucky,’ he said, ‘because I very nearly forgot.’

He put his hand into his inside pocket and produced four small bars of chocolate.

The sisters did not look impressed.

Dorothy silently cursed Toby. The presents he had brought them had been far superior and far more expensive.

‘What do you say?’ Dorothy demanded, throwing her mother a look. If her sisters had been this rude to one of their friends, they’d have been given a smack and sent up to their rooms.

‘Thank you,’ the sisters chorused, their tone full of cheek, their sentiment anything but one of gratitude.

‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ Mrs Williams said.

‘Yes, please, Mrs Williams.’

‘Milk? Sugar?’

‘Yes, please.’

Bobby reached out and took the proffered china cup and saucer. As he did so, the arm of his suit, which no longer fitted him due to his work at the yard causing him to bulk out, slid up, revealing one of his tattoos.

‘Oh my goodness!’ Mrs Williams’s hand went to her mouth in shock. ‘You’re a sailor boy!’ she said, not even trying to hide her disdain.

‘I was an able seaman with the Royal Navy before being medically discharged,’ Bobby explained, glancing at Dorothy. She had gone red. Was she embarrassed by him?

Dorothy was just about to say something when her stepfather beat her to it.

‘Well, old boy, I think we should just put our cards on the table now and be done with it – rather than endure lunch together.’

Everyone was staring at Mr Williams, who was standing, whisky glass in hand. He glared at Dorothy before turning his attention to Bobby.

‘If you have come here today to ask for Dorothy’s hand in marriage, well, you can think again.’ He looked at Mrs Williams, who nodded her agreement. ‘Dorothy will not be marrying below herself. We have allowed her to play around being a welder at that shipyard of hers, but that does not mean she can marry some shipyard worker.’

He looked at Dorothy and pointed his finger.

‘And you, my girl, should have told us the truth about who it was you were bringing into our home. If you had, we could have avoided all of this.’

He waved his empty whisky glass in the air before turning back to the drinks cabinet for a refill. It was a clear sign that this was the end of the matter and they were now dismissed.

Bobby had never felt so angry. So mortified. So ridiculed. Why had he put himself in this situation? He should have known better. He looked at Dorothy, who was standing stock-still, glaring at her stepfather’s back. He should have known. She was out of his league. They had enjoyed their time together, but now it was time for the real world. And people like Dorothy did not marry men like himself.

He stood up straight and turned to leave. As he did so, he saw Dorothy turn quickly. She grabbed his hand and held it tightly. For the first time since they had entered the house, she looked him in the eye. And as she did so, his heart soared as hope returned.

‘We’re not going just yet, Bobby,’ she said. ‘Frank’s had his say, now I’m going to have mine.’

Mrs Williams opened her mouth to object, but it was too late.

‘I’m not going to remind either of you – ’ Dorothy swung her gaze from her mother to Frank ‘– that it’s thanks to men like Bobby that we are now winning this war. Nor that that bottle of Scotch and those flowers and the chocolate have cost him a good part of his wages – hard-earned wages, I hasten to add. I’m not going to bother to try and make you understand why I work as a welder in a shipyard, because if you don’t realise that now, then you never will.’

She kept hold of Bobby’s hand.

‘I don’t know why I brought Bobby here. I knew it wasn’t a good idea. Knew you would both be vile and snobby.’

‘So why did you?’ Frank asked.

‘Because I was trying to do the right thing,’ Dorothy said. ‘I’d brought Toby here to meet you and it would seem like I was ashamed of Bobby if I didn’t agree when he asked to meet you.’ She looked at Bobby. ‘And I’m most certainly not ashamed of him.’

Bobby squeezed her hand.

‘Trying to do the right thing was actually the wrong thing to do,’ she said.

She took a deep breath.

‘I’m actually angry with myself for bringing Bobby here.’ She looked at her stepfather. ‘Frank, you have no right to make any kind of comment or judgement on my life – or really have anything to do with it, never mind think you have a say about who I should or should not marry – or where I work.’

Dorothy looked at her mother. Wanting her to come to her defence. To support her. She had, after all, kept her secret all these years.

‘But you’ll happily come here and beg a favour when you need to open a bank account,’ Frank said.

Dorothy gasped with outrage. ‘Only because of the stupid laws in this country! I had no choice.’

She drew breath. Do it! Say it!

‘The funny thing is, Frank, the day I came here and asked you to sign that form for the bank – as a family member, as a male relative – well, we both broke the law.’

Frank looked puzzled. ‘What are you talking about?’

Dorothy looked at her mother and then back at Frank. ‘Because, Frank, legally you are not related to me.’

‘What are you talking about?’ he asked.

‘Enough of this nonsense!’ Mrs Williams suddenly butted in.

Bobby looked at Mrs Williams and thought she seemed anxious. Very anxious.

‘It’s not nonsense, though, is it, Mum?’

Bobby looked at his sweetheart. He had never seen her this angry.

‘It’s not nonsense because I’m not your stepdaughter, Frank!’ Dorothy practically spat the words out.

Bobby saw a look of confusion on Frank’s face, but increasing fear on his wife’s.

Dorothy looked at her mother. ‘Am I, Mother?’

‘What’s she on about?’ Frank asked his panic-stricken wife.

‘Would you like to explain, or should I?’ Dorothy gave her mother another loaded look.

Mrs Williams was about to object when Dorothy spoke again.

‘You see, Frank, you’re not married to my mother.’ She paused. ‘I know, it’s confusing, isn’t it? I mean, you had a ceremony, didn’t you? Quite a show, wasn’t it? Must have cost a pretty penny. But the thing is, Frank, it was a complete waste of time and money, because …’ she paused ‘… because, you see, Frank, Mum was already married. Or should I say, was still married. To my real dad.’

She waited a beat.

‘And as everyone knows, we don’t hold with polygamy in this country, so that means you and Mum have been living in sin for … how many years? Oh, and my lovely little sisters are all very much illegitimate.’

Dorothy looked at her mother, who had gone sickly pale.

‘Your wife, Frank, is what they call a bigamist, which I’m sure you know, having had an education, is illegal and punishable by a not inconsiderable time in prison.’

Dorothy turned her attention to her mother. ‘I just sincerely hope you don’t get caught, Mum, for everyone’s sake – especially the girls’.’ She looked at her sisters, who had fallen silent and seemed quite mesmerised by the unexpected turn of events. ‘Girls who, I have to add, are going to end up horrible spoilt brats if you’re not careful.’

Her middle sister pushed her tongue out.

‘And I do wonder whether Frank will have the balls to visit you if you do find yourself behind bars. To be honest, knowing what I know of Frank, I doubt wild horses would get him there.’

Dorothy turned to Bobby, who still had a tight grip on her hand.

‘Well, we’d better get ourselves off.’ She waited a beat, then fabricated a smile. ‘I don’t know about you, Bobby, but I’m starving.’

Dorothy and Bobby looked at Frank, who was staring in disbelief at the woman he’d just learnt was not actually his wife.

‘Don’t worry, Mum,’ Dorothy said chirpily. ‘I’ll get our coats and we’ll see ourselves out. Looks like you and Frank are going to have a lot to talk about.’

A few minutes later, Dorothy and Bobby were walking down the short driveway and out onto the main pathway.

Both had the beginnings of smiles on their faces.

Bobby looked at Dorothy and pulled her to a stop.

‘I didn’t think it was possible to love you more than I already did, but I do.’ He looked into her eyes to show her the verity of his words. He had told Dorothy he loved her, but so far, she had never said it back to him.

He kissed her and she kissed him back. She had never felt so happy. So relieved. Bobby didn’t give a toss about her family. He loved her regardless. Regardless of her family’s incredibly snobbery. Regardless of her mother’s bigamy. He didn’t care. Angie was right. Bobby was crazy about her.

They started walking again, but after a few yards, Dorothy pulled Bobby to a halt.

‘It pains me to have to say this,’ she said, looking up and giving him a quick kiss on the lips. She then stood on her tiptoes so that her mouth was close to his good ear. ‘But I think I’ve fallen in love with you too.’

Bobby laughed, elated by her words.

‘Just think you have?’ He grabbed her by her waist and pulled her close.

‘OK,’ she laughed. ‘I have. Damn you, Bobby Armstrong. I know I have!’