Wartime on Coronation Street

by Maggie Sullivan

  Tonight he’d been thinking, as he’d trudged across the cobbles, how much his boasts were justified, for it had been a particularly hard night, not only for the fire watchers but also for the firemen. Although he and his team had spotted several incendiary devices only moments after they had landed and had managed to smother most of them before they flared up into anything serious, there had been one bomb dropped on an end-of-terrace house where there had been more damage than usual. The local brigade and the AFS had had to be called to help fight that fire as it had spread more quickly than they could cope with. It had been almost impossible to contain and had threatened to rip through the entire street of back-to-back houses.

  When he’d arrived at the Field, the lads were already discussing the notion of taking a trip to go dancing and Bob was glad to take his mind off the carnage of the fire he had just left behind, in which thankfully only property and not people had been seriously hurt.

  ‘Hey, Bob! Have you heard about the new Palais de Dance that’s opening not far from the American barracks at Burtonwood?’ It was Al, their self-appointed leader, who called to him as he grabbed a bottle of beer and sat down heavily on the hardened mud above the shelter. Bob shook his head.

  ‘I think we could have a lot of fun,’ Al said and in the semi-dark Bob had seen him wink and felt the friendly gesture of an elbow in his ribs.

  ‘They reckon there’s going to be truckloads of girls coming from all over Weatherfield, imagine that,’ Al said, closing his eyes for a moment.

  Bob’s first reaction was to decline the invitation, thinking that he couldn’t entertain the idea of going to a dance without Vera. But as the others ribbed him he began to change his mind.

  ‘Just because you’re engaged to be married doesn’t mean you have to be tied to her aprons strings already,’ one of them scoffed, ‘especially when she’s not even here to object.’

  ‘You know what they say about what mice get up to while the cats are on their holidays,’ Al said, chuckling at his own wit.

  ‘Make the most of it, I say,’ another voice added and several of the others muttered, ‘hear, hear.’

  ‘Never mind his fiancée, from what I hear it’s his future mother-in-law he’s afraid of,’ another said cruelly and several of them sniggered.

  ‘But how would she ever know?’ Al said. ‘Besides, you’ve no way of knowing what Vera gets up to all those hundreds of miles away, have you?’

  That did make Bob suddenly sit up and think. In her last letter Vera had mentioned a party coming up. How did he know what would be going on there? He had been thinking about it. Maybe it would do no harm to let Vera worry about what he might be doing for a change.

  ‘So, are you with us or not?’ Al asked, grinning. ‘We’re all waiting to hear whether you’re a man or a mouse.’

  ‘Definitely with,’ Bob said without hesitation, though he did feel a moment of guilt as he said it. He wasn’t normally much for dancing, but he realized that he was already looking forward to a different night out as they began planning how they might be able to use some of the GI soldiers to help them get out of Weatherfield and back again on Saturday night.

  Bob didn’t want to admit that the taunts about Ena Sharples were not that far off the mark. Vera might have gone away, but her shrew of a mother certainly hadn’t and he generally tried to put some distance between himself and Coronation Street so that there was no danger of coming across her accidentally. Whenever he was in that part of Weatherfield he always felt as if she was spying on him, deliberately tailing him, watching him, waiting for him to put a foot wrong. But he decided, as he plodded home along the dark streets, that he had done the right thing. He was not going to let a woman like Ena Sharples damage his hard-won reputation among his mates. He plunged his hands deep into his trousers pockets and he walked the last part of his journey more jauntily, wondering why he had hesitated in the first place.

  Bob sat back in the army truck that Al had arranged to pick them up to take them to the Palais, thinking that he now understood how Vera must have felt when she had finally escaped from her mother’s watchful eye and had gone to the Burtonwood dance with Elsie Tanner all that time ago. Tonight, however, they were not going to the GI army camp but to the inaugural dance at the brand new dance hall that had been created from some old shops and warehouses. Bob had told no one outside of his immediate group about the dance for fear that Ena Sharples or one of what he called her henchmen might waylay him before he had even arrived there. Somehow, Ena seemed to have eyes and ears everywhere but he was satisfied that on this occasion she had no inkling of what he was up to.

  The truck came to a sudden halt and everyone piled out, then Al banged on the wooden tailgate to tell the driver he could move on. Although the new Palais de Danse had been put together recently, it was far from smart-looking. The bricks had been refashioned from old structures and there were bars on the blackened windows. But once through the thick wooden doors, which had also been painted black, Bob was surprised to find the inside had been brightly decorated and was festooned with flowers and bunting for the special occasion. The band were just setting up and a female singer in a glitzy dress was testing out the microphone.

  Al led the way across the room to the bar, which was already open for business, and as Bob stepped onto the empty dance floor he was surprised by the bouncy spring to the special wooden flooring. Some girls were already sitting at the tables that lined the walls, pretending not to notice Al and the gang as they went by, heading straight for the bar. Most of the other early arrivals clicked off in their high heels to a door marked Ladies, no doubt to adjust their make-up and put the finishing touches to their hair.

  ‘The money’s on you tonight, Bob,’ Al said slapping Bob on the back as he ordered them each a beer. ‘So don’t let me down.’

  Bob looked puzzled. ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘I’ve had a bet, between us, that you’re the one who’ll walk away with one of the lasses tonight. So make sure you don’t get too sozzled to help me win my money back.’

  Bob laughed as he stood with a pint in his hand, his elbow leaning on the bar as he surveyed their surroundings.

  ‘I’ll do my best,’ he said and noticed that most of the other lads had taken their drinks and were spread about the room, pretending they weren’t looking for potential dance partners. It looked as though it should be easy enough as there were several small groups of likely-looking girls at the tables that were dotted about the room. They all seemed to be dressed up in their finest and were alternately staring and then turning away to giggle behind their hands. Bob, too, looked away at first, not wanting to pay too much attention to any particular gaggle of girls but then, almost without realizing, his eyes kept coming back to the same group of three on the opposite side of the room.

  ‘Who’ve you got your eye on?’ Al said.

  ‘Who says I’ve got my eye on anyone?’

  ‘Come off it! You might as well have a telescope rammed up against it,’ Al said and laughed. ‘You know what they say, never kid a kidder, and I know what you’re up to because I do the same thing myself, all the time.’

  ‘And what’s that?’ Bob wanted to know.

  ‘I make sure that they’re eyeing me up and down as much as I am them, then I go for a different one altogether.’ They both laughed. ‘Keep ’em guessing and always on the hop, never let ’em know who you’re after, then swoop and strike,’ Al said.

  ‘Sounds like a perfectly sensible strategy to me,’ Bob said. ‘So, which one do you reckon fancies me?’

  ‘I’d say the one in the green dress,’ Al suggested. ‘She looks as if she’s bought herself a drink before she’s even started to dance. No doubt, trying to look as if she’s Mrs Independent. But don’t be fooled. I bet what she’s got in that glass is water. If you go over there now, she’ll down that lot so fast you’ll feel obliged to offer to buy her another one and then she’ll stiff you for something expensive.’

  ‘That sounds pret
ty elaborate,’ Bob said. ‘Do you really think she would go to all that trouble?’ He was thinking of Vera, who he knew was guileless. ‘Do you really think girls are capable of plotting such things?’

  ‘They are not only capable of it, but they actually do it frequently,’ Al said. ‘Look at her now, she’s talking to her mates but she’s got one eye on you. Wants to know if you’re watching her. She’ll take out her powder compact in a minute, pretend she’s fixing her lipstick when really she’ll be swinging the mirror round to watch you behind her.’

  ‘Nah! You’re kidding. She doesn’t fancy me,’ Bob said dismissively.

  ‘But do you fancy her? That’s more to the point’ Al said.

  ‘We-e-e-ll, not really,’ Bob said, wondering if the joke had gone far enough.

  ‘I don’t believe you,’ Al said. ‘So I say get over there now and ask her to keep the first dance for you. Then you can relax and as soon as the band gets going, you’re off.’ He turned to one of the other lads who was listening to their conversation. ‘Hey, Derek! Come and settle an argument.’

  ‘See that small group of girls almost directly under the glitter ball?’ Al said when Derek sidled up, pint in hand. Derek nodded. ‘Which one would you say is trying to give Bob the eye?’

  ‘The one in the green dress,’ Derek said without hesitation.

  Bob frowned. ‘But how did you know that?’ he asked.

  ‘Because she’s the only one trying to pretend she’s not even looking at you when clearly she is,’ Derek said.

  When the band struck up, almost immediately everyone started marking the beat in time to the music. Then the singer picked the microphone out of its stand and tap-danced her way from one side to the other of the tiny stage. Al gave Bob a gentle push in the back that made him spill his beer onto the countertop.

  ‘OK, I’m going,’ Bob protested. He could hardly say that he was waiting until his knees didn’t feel as if they were about to give way. But then he thought of Ena. He needed to show her that she couldn’t run his life. And at the thought of Ena Sharples, the young girl he was pursuing suddenly looked very attractive indeed so he set off slowly and carefully, picking his way across to the other side of the room, more determined than ever to enjoy the evening. He had left Al in charge of his beer at the bar and when he reached the table under the glitter ball he immediately made eye contact with the girl in the green dress. His eyes slid sideways, indicating the dance floor, and he twitched his head almost imperceptibly to one side, the way he’d seen others do in places like the Ritz in Manchester when he’d been with Vera.

  To his amazement, the girl seemed to read the message without question, for she passed her handbag to her friend to look after and took a step towards where Bob stood on the wooden sprung dance floor. He grabbed hold of her arms, not too elegantly, and guided her into the small space he seemed to have reserved. He began to shift his body back and forth in time to the music without any particular fancy footwork and, incredibly, she followed.

  She said her name was Doreen. ‘But I’m known to all my friends as Dolly.’ She told him she came from the other side of Weatherfield and that she’d come with two of her special friends. Bob told her his name, but neither could say much after that as the music seemed to suddenly grow much louder. It didn’t take long for the specially designated dance area to become overcrowded and people were spilling onto the carpet to dance in front of the tables and around the chairs, often pushing them out of the way to accommodate yet more people. Bob had never been to a dance hall that was so crowded and he soon realized that it didn’t matter that he didn’t really know how to dance, for in no time at all there wasn’t room for anyone to move their feet more than a few inches in any one direction, certainly not in any kind of recognizable dance steps.

  Bob was about to try the old favourite and ask her if she came there often when he remembered that the Palais had only just opened and he said instead, ‘What do you think to this place?’

  ‘It looks very nice.’ He read her lips rather than heard her say as she took in the full view of the room. ‘And the music’s not bad either.’

  Bob would have given up at the end of the first set when he returned to his pint at the bar as the musicians paused for their own refreshments, but Al and the boys pushed him back onto the dance floor as soon as the band struck up again and insisted he have another dance with a different girl. Dolly in the green dress had not been much of a dancer, but this girl was so gawky and poorly coordinated that she kept bumping up against him and treading on his toes. He didn’t wait for the set to end before he returned her to the table where she had been sitting with her friends.

  ‘Thanks, but I’m feeling tired,’ he said as he dumped her unceremoniously and he shivered. He didn’t care that he could feel her making faces behind his back as he walked away.

  ‘Narrow escape there, pal,’ Al said. ‘You should have seen the look on her face.’

  Bob ignored him. ‘What about you?’ he said. ‘Why aren’t you dancing?’

  ‘I might do later but it’s more important that we get you set up first,’ Al said. ‘You need to be your own man again now that Vera’s not around – and most of all we need to get you away from that dragon who’s going to be your mother-in-law.’

  ‘Oh don’t remind me,’ Bob sighed. ‘I thought I was supposed to be having fun tonight. Have I not passed the test yet?’ he quipped.

  ‘You’re doing well,’ Al said, ‘even better than I thought, if you look over there.’

  Bob glanced across the room where he saw that Dolly was staring in his direction.

  ‘I’d say Lady Green Dress has now got green eyes to match, wouldn’t you?’ Al said. ‘She’s dead jealous that you chose someone else to dance with and didn’t ask her again and now she’s angling for another go at it. That was a smart move, Bob, I must say.’

  ‘Maybe I’ll ask her for the next set then,’ Bob said, delighted that he was finally feeling able to relax and enjoy it.

  Al laughed. ‘So long as you don’t look too keen,’ he said. ‘And don’t be surprised if she turns her back on you at first. Remember, she’ll be doing her own bit of playing hard to get.’

  Bob felt Al’s hand prod him in the back again and he was propelled once more in Dolly’s direction.

  By the time the tempo of the evening began to slow down and the band were only playing slow numbers, the crowd had begun to thin and Bob was glad the evening was coming to an end. He was tired out, not used to so much excitement or so much of that kind of exercise. If he were truthful, he really was finding it a struggle to think of things to say to Dolly and he could barely hear her over the music. He’d got so used to being with Vera that he’d forgotten what it felt like to be with someone else and he had to admit he found it flattering the way she clung on to his arm. So much so that, when it came time to say goodbye he was reluctant to let her go without making some move to see her again.

  ‘Got a telephone?’ he heard himself ask, although a part of him was wishing that she didn’t.

  She shook her head. ‘But our next door neighbour’s got one,’ she added quickly. ‘She could always come and fetch me if you rang on Friday night about seven.’

  Bob was surprised that she seemed to have it all down pat and felt he couldn’t refuse. ‘Then why don’t you give me her number,’ he felt compelled to say, ‘and I can give you a call. Would you like to step out with me one night?’

  Dolly raised her eyebrows and looked at him enticingly as she wrote the number on a scrap of paper she tore from a tiny notebook in her handbag.

  ‘Aye, happen I will. I’ll look forward to that, Bob,’ she said with a giggle and, as she grabbed hold of his arm, he wondered if he had done the right thing. When she showed no sign of letting go he removed her hand firmly.

  ‘I’ve got to go now – that’s my ride home.’ He indicated the truck that had pulled up close to the front door, where the young soldier who had brought them was revving the engine. ‘If I don�
�t go now it’ll take me till Friday to get home.’ Bob gave a little laugh and headed straight for the truck.

  ‘Wait! I thought I might …’ Dolly called after him but before she could gain any ground on them, Al was hoisting Bob into the truck and they were being driven away.

  Chapter 29

  Bob didn’t think that anyone had seen Dolly giving him her phone number but he was wrong; and the ribbing started almost as soon as they began their journey back.

  ‘Thanks for winning my bet for me. How soon can you phone her?’ Al asked. ‘Though you’ll probably be home before she will so you’ll have to hold your fire a bit.’

  ‘On the other hand you’ve got to take advantage of Vera being away or else you’re not doing your duty by us,’ Derek quipped. ‘I wish I’d met someone who gave me the come-on like she did to you, I’d have been all over her in a shot.’

  ‘Where’s the harm?’ Al said. ‘You don’t know what Vera’s getting up to, do you? Let her worry about you for a change. I’m all for that.’ He grinned. ‘Otherwise it would be like a wasted trip for you if you hadn’t picked someone up, and I’m sure you wouldn’t have wanted that. You’ve got your reputation to think of.’

  But instead of laughing as Al had intended, Bob responded defensively. ‘What if Vera finds out?’ he said.

  ‘How can she? No one knows you in Burtonwood, do they?’ Al said. ‘And none of us are going to tell.’

  ‘That’s true,’ Bob said and he moved inside the truck away from the tailgate where he could avoid everyone’s gaze.

  At first Bob tried his best to forget about Dolly. He conveniently forgot where he had put the phone number she had given him and he immersed himself in work during the day and filled his evenings as usual with his conscientious fire watching. But he couldn’t actually stop thinking about her; and when he came across the piece of paper with her neighbour’s telephone number on it, he decided to take the plunge and ring. He had nothing to lose and the possibility of everything to gain.