The Girl From Number 22 by Joan Jonker Read Free Book Online Page A

in the dumps, aren’t yer? When yer’ve put the washing out, why don’t yer come here and I’ll make us a nice pot of tea. I might even stretch to giving yer a few biscuits to dunk.’
    Ada, still leaning against the yard wall with her arms folded, called, ‘Considering you’ve got nearly as many to wash for as I have, can I ask why ye’re feeling so pleased with yerself?’
    ‘I’ve had the wireless on while I’ve been doing me washing, and Victor Silvester and his dance band have been on. It’s a wonder yer didn’t hear me singing along with all the old tunes he played. I haven’t half enjoyed meself.’
    Ada pulled herself away from the wall. ‘Why the hell didn’t yer tell me he was on? Yer know he’s a favourite of mine. If yer’d used yer brains and given me a knock, I could have been as happy as you are.’
    ‘If you hadn’t been so busy moaning and talking to yerself,queen, then yer would have heard the radio through the wall. And I was singing so loud me throat’s gone all dry.’
    ‘Then the sooner we get our washing out, and the tea made, the better. So let’s shake a leg and get it over with. I’ll be at yours in about twenty minutes. I’ve been washed, I only need to comb me hair to make meself presentable.’
    ‘Who d’yer want to make yerself presentable for?’ Hetty asked. ‘Is it Ronnie in the butcher’s yer’ve got yer eye on, or Stan in the grocer’s?’
    ‘Ah, ay, sunshine, credit me with a bit of taste. My Jimmy would knock spots off those two! If I was looking for a feller, it would have to be someone with loads of money. And d’yer know why I’d like someone with loads of money?’
    Hetty knew her mate inside out, and she grinned. ‘Yeah, I bet I can quess why yer’d like a sugar daddy.’
    ‘I bet yer can’t! Not unless ye’re a blinking mind reader.’
    ‘A penny if I guess right? Scout’s honour?’
    ‘Oh, go on then, I’m as daft as you. A penny it is, if yer get it right.’
    ‘Yer’d like to have enough money to take all the washing to the laundry, so there’d be no more Monday morning blues.’
    Ada shook her head slowly. ‘D’yer know what, Hetty Watson, you should be sitting in one of those booths they have at fairgrounds. Yer know what I’m talking about: they have a gypsy sitting there with a glass ball on a table in front of her, and she entices people in by saying she’ll tell them their fortune if they cross her palm with silver.’
    ‘Yeah, I’d like that,’ Hetty said. ‘I’ve never told yer this before, but I am a bit of a fortune-teller. For instance, I’ll tell yer what your fortune is now. I haven’t got no glass ball, but I’m getting a sensation running through me whole body. And it’s saying that ifyer don’t get back in the house and do what yer’ve got to do, then we’ll be late getting to the shops. So get yer skates on, girl.’
    It was eleven o’clock and the friends were leaving Hetty’s house, having finished off a pot of tea and a plate of biscuits. She was closing the door behind them when one of the neighbours opposite waved to them. Her name was Jean Bowers, and she lived next to Eliza Porter. ‘Have yer got a minute to spare, ladies?’
    ‘Yeah, of course we have,’ Ada said. ‘As long as yer don’t want us to help yer hang yer washing out. A bit of a sore subject, that is.’ She linked her arm through Hetty’s and together they crossed the cobbles. ‘D’yer want something from the shops, sunshine?’
    Jean shook her head. She was a pretty woman, with fair hair, blue eyes, and a round happy face with rosy cheeks and dimples. ‘No, I’ll be going to the shops meself soon, Ada. And I’m probably worrying for nothing, but I haven’t heard a sound from Eliza’s house all morning. Usually I hear her raking out the grate, or the water running in the kitchen, but I haven’t heard a thing this morning. I thought she might be having a lie-in, as she sometimes does, but never until this