Big Dreams for the West End Girls

by Elaine Roberts

  Joyce shook her head. ‘That’s all right, Mavis, don’t worry. Everything will be all right in the end.’

  Mavis shrugged. ‘I think Simon knew what she would be like. That’s why he asked me to keep an eye on her. Oh, I must tell you Simon brought some of your cake home for us to eat once and it was absolutely wonderful.’

  Joyce blushed. ‘Thank you, that’s very kind of you to say so.’

  Barbara reached the door and looked round at them. She scowled before walking into the café.

  Joyce shook her head, wondering how long she was going to have to put up with Simon’s sister.

  ‘Are you all right, young man?’ Barbara’s voice carried into the kitchen.

  Joyce gently pushed the door ajar and peered round it. She was talking to Philip. Joyce pushed the door wide open and walked over to him, putting her arm across his shoulders. ‘Philip is with me.’

  Barbara looked from one to the other, and didn’t say anything at first. ‘That’s all fine. I’ll keep an eye on him.’

  ‘Thank you, Barbara.’

  Philip looked up at Joyce with wide, soulful eyes. ‘Can I sit with Frank?’

  Joyce’s lips tightened for a second. ‘Only if he doesn’t mind.’

  Frank ruffled Philip’s hair. ‘Of course I don’t mind. We can draw pictures and things.’

  Philip beamed and ran to make room on his table.

  ‘Thank you, Frank.’

  ‘It’s my pleasure.’ Frank winked.

  Joyce could feel her colour rising in her face. ‘Please don’t feel you have to sit with him every time you come in here.’ She walked over to the table and checked the coloured pencils and the exercise book she’d taken from her shopping bag earlier. ‘I’m only through that door if you need anything. You can write me a story if you don’t want to draw.’

  Barbara took a couple of steps towards them. Her eyes narrowed. She had seen Frank wink at Joyce. ‘Philip looks a little like you.’ She paused as she eyed him. ‘He’s only young. Can he read and write?’

  Joyce blushed; she had just made herself look such a fool, after all he hadn’t started school yet.

  *

  The fire crackled in the hearth. The flames danced and licked the coals into shape before disappearing up the chimney. The black coal turned grey and crackled as it fell into place. The dining room was lovely and warm as long as the door was pushed to. Joyce poured a glass of milk from a white stoneware jug for Philip and passed it to him. He stared wide-eyed at her; she could see the tiredness in his eyes. ‘I’m sorry it hasn’t been much fun for you since you’ve been here.’ Joyce closed her eyes for a second, not knowing how to proceed. ‘Thank you for helping me in the café. I would have struggled without it.’ He very rarely responded to her no matter what she said or did; at best all she got was a few words and a faint smile most of the time.

  She thought of her own mother and father, how she’d always got involved with cooking and making things. She had never felt the need to have many friends. She had been happy at home with her mother; they had always done things together. Her mother could forge a meal out of nothing and often had to because her father didn’t always get paid for the work he did. Joyce remembered her father saying how a bad man had robbed him of his wages. He was always off working somewhere, and she wouldn’t see him for days but he always brought presents when he came home. Joyce smiled at the thought of some of the dolls and jewellery she had owned.

  She shook her head. That was all gone now. How could she get through to Philip? How could she now give him that happy feeling, the good memories? But then she had grown up in the village and there were always things to do. She thought hard; maybe she could try and put something in a pot for him to show him the satisfaction of growing something and then transforming it into something that could be eaten.

  ‘That Barbara pretends to be nice but I don’t think she is really.’

  Joyce’s eyes widened as she fought to hold her happiness inside as she looked across at Philip. ‘I don’t suppose she’s a horrible person; the café is new to her, that’s all.’

  Philip shrugged. ‘My pa used to say some people pretend to be one way but act another.’

  Joyce looked at him for a moment before picking up the poker and prodding the grey coals in the fireplace. Sparks crackled as the coals fell and the flames licked and danced up the chimney breast. ‘Your pa sounds like a wise man.’ She stepped back, wanting to ask him so many questions but something held her back.

  Philip stared into his glass of milk. ‘We used to have fun together.’ He paused. ‘When he visited he’d take me out.’

  Joyce pushed a plate of biscuits towards him and sat down in the armchair near the open fire. ‘Help yourself. Did your father work away a lot then?’

  Philip shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I just know he wasn’t always there, but when he came home he played with me and told me all kinds of stories.’

  Joyce could feel her eyes welling up. ‘It sounds like he loves you very much.’

  Philip stared at her before picking a biscuit from the plate. ‘He stopped coming.’

  Joyce took a couple of breaths, trying to control the tightness that had gripped her throat and chest, wondering if she could rustle up some profound words, but really just wanting to give him a bear hug. ‘I don’t suppose he meant to stop coming; perhaps he just got caught up with work or something.’

  There was no visible emotion on Philip’s face when he spoke again. ‘Me ma took me to Mrs Taylor’s house. She said she would look after me, give me a better life. Ma was crying like, but said she just couldn’t look after me anymore, what wiv all ’er entertaining. At least that’s what I heard Grandma tell my pa. They were shouting at each other. I don’t actually remember me ma.’

  Joyce gulped hard. She wanted to ask more questions but she had to fight the urge to cry for what he’d been through.

  Arthur pushed the dining room door wide open. ‘Hello, Philip, how’s it been at the café today with Joyce?’

  Philip smiled. ‘She was really busy and Barbara wasn’t very nice to her although she was very nice to me and Frank drew pictures with me.’

  Joyce raised her eyebrows and looked over at Arthur. She didn’t realise how much Philip was taking in.

  Arthur raised his eyebrows at Joyce. ‘So Frank popped in again did he?’ He glanced over at Philip and smiled. He moved to stand in front of the fire in the hearth. ‘That’s because Joyce is in charge. No one likes their bosses.’

  Philip looked over Joyce. ‘Is that true?’

  Joyce looked from one to the other. ‘I shouldn’t think so; your uncle Arthur has a habit of exaggerating things. I’m only in charge temporarily because it’s Barbara’s family business not mine, and her brother’s away at the moment.’

  Philip eyes widened. ‘Is he fighting the Germans?’

  Joyce immediately looked over at Arthur. How was she going to deal with this? What was she going to say to Philip? She gave a curt nod. ‘Philip, tell me what are you interested in. What did you used to do when you lived at Grandma’s?’

  ‘We used to go to the park sometimes.’ Philip shrugged. ‘I’ve always done what I wanted.’

  Joyce scowled at him. ‘You know I’ve never looked after a child before, but I don’t think any five-year-old should be able to do exactly what they like.’ She smiled. ‘I just want to keep you safe.’

  Philip folded his arms around his body. ‘You don’t have to look after me. I can look after myself.’

  Joyce nodded. ‘Well, I expect that’s true but I want to look after you.’ She smiled. ‘I tell you what, I was going to suggest a visit to the park so maybe we could go on Sunday. How about that?’

  Philip grinned and nodded. ‘Will Frank come as well?’

  ‘I expect Frank will be busy.’ Joyce frowned. ‘Look, I know I’m busy all the time and things need to change, but I haven’t figured that bit out yet.’

  Arthur beamed. ‘The park’s a lovely idea. You ca
n’t beat a run-around.’ He took a biscuit from the plate. ‘I almost forgot to say, I got a letter from Dot. She’s well, and said to say hello to you all.’

  Joyce smiled. ‘I’m pleased she’s happy. I know you want her to be here but at least you are both talking to each other now.’

  Arthur opened his mouth to speak but closed it again. He examined the biscuit before biting into it. Crumbs fell onto the floor. ‘Did you make these, Joyce?’

  Joyce looked down at the floor and shook her head. ‘Yes, I only made them very quickly and by the looks of things they are a bit crumbly.’

  ‘Yes, they are a bit but they are lovely, so make as many as you like.’ Arthur picked up another biscuit. ‘Philip, would you like a biscuit? You’re lucky Joyce makes some beautiful meals and her biscuits are the best.’

  Philip grinned at Arthur as he reached for a biscuit.

  *

  The audience rose to their feet, cheering and clapping as the red curtains came down for the second time. The cast applauded each other and their excitement spilled over as they patted each other on the back.

  Annie clapped her hands together and turned to Kitty. ‘Stan must be happy with the way it went tonight. You seemed to love it.’ The applause filled the theatre. ‘Listen to them; you can hear them cheering and clapping. It’s so wonderful.’

  Kitty smiled, her eyes lighting up. ‘It was wonderful tonight; I think there was something in the air. This is why I love the stage; this is why I love acting.’ She grabbed Annie’s hand and they rushed across the stage together.

  Annie’s eyes sparkled and her face flushed with colour. ‘It’s wonderful, I love being on stage.’

  The cast of the play gathered in groups, laughing and joking as they left the stage. Some were in the wings giggling, each enjoying the pleasure of what had happened on stage that evening.

  Stan was suddenly in front of them all. ‘That went brilliantly. I’m so proud of you. Thank you for all the hard work you’ve put in.’ He turned to a young girl in a maid’s costume. ‘Penny, you did very well. Congratulations.’

  The young girl blushed. ‘Thank you, sir, it’s thanks to Annie. She helped me to learn my lines.’

  Stan grinned as he looked across at Annie before nodding as he glanced back at Penny. ‘That doesn’t surprise me, but you should take the credit for not giving up.’

  Beaming, Annie listened to them both. She caught Penny’s gaze and mouthed: ‘Well done’.

  Stan went up to Kitty and put his arms around her shoulders. ‘You were brilliant tonight.’

  Kitty smiled at him. ‘Of course, darling, aren’t I always brilliant?’

  Stan chuckled. ‘Without a doubt, my darling, without a doubt.’

  Kitty turned to Annie. ‘Come on, let’s get out of these costumes and get our make-up off. Then maybe we can grab a coffee.’

  They walked along the corridor to Kitty’s dressing room and pushed the door open. A musty smell of stale perfume and make-up greeted them. Kitty wrinkled her nose. ‘It’s a shame there’s no window in here; it gets very stuffy.’

  Stan shook his head. ‘Maybe next time we can organise it for you; at least a larger dressing room.’

  Kitty gave him a sideways look. ‘You’re not trying to be funny are you, Stan?’

  Stan chuckled. ‘As if I’d dare.’ He sat on the chaise longue and stretched out his legs in front of him. ‘You should go out for something to eat. You know, celebrate.’

  Annie carried the kettle over to the sink and turned the tap on. ‘Would you like a coffee, Mr Tyler?’

  Stan chuckled. ‘You can call me Stan you know.’

  Annie brushed the front of the maid’s costume she was wearing with the palm of her hand. ‘I know, you’ve mentioned it before, but I don’t want to seem disrespectful at work.’

  ‘I’m sure you won’t be. I’m giving you permission so I don’t see that as being disrespectful.’

  Annie nodded. ‘Very well, would you like a coffee, Stan?’

  Stan ran his hands through his hair. ‘I’d love one, thank you, and make it a strong one please.’

  Annie spooned the Camp Coffee into the cups, adding a spoonful of sugar to one of them. ‘How’s the wedding plans coming along?’

  Kitty sighed. ‘I haven’t done anything yet. I know it’s terrible but I’m dreading going out looking for a wedding dress. I’m not even sure what sort of dress I should have at my age.’

  Annie shook her head. ‘What do you mean at your age? You should have a proper wedding dress just like everyone else does.’

  Kitty chuckled. ‘I knew you would think that, which is why I haven’t spoken to you about it.’

  ‘I don’t understand. We can talk about anything can’t we? It doesn’t matter if we agree or not; it’s about how we deal with it.’

  Stan laughed. ‘Oh, Kitty, that told you didn’t it.’

  Kitty scowled at Stan. ‘You can be quiet. This has nothing to do with you.’

  Stan’s head jerked back. ‘What do you mean it’s nothing to do with me? I’m the groom, remember?’

  Annie burst out laughing. ‘I think Kitty means the wedding dress is nothing to do with you.’ She turned to Kitty. ‘We should talk about it when Stan isn’t in the room. Maybe we could get Rose involved. She might be able to make you something if you prefer it.’

  Kitty looked thoughtful at her reflection in the mirror. ‘Now that’s worth thinking about. I should have thought of that; maybe we should talk to Rose.’

  Annie picked up the two cups of coffee and wandered over to Stan and Kitty, placing the drinks on the table.

  Stan immediately picked up his cup. ‘Well, if you like I could just drink this and then you can talk to Rose, if she’s still here.’

  Annie nodded. ‘I expect she is. She likes to stay in case anything goes wrong with the costumes during the play. She likes being on hand to fix them.’

  Kitty frowned. ‘Unlike Miss Hetherington.’

  Annie shook her head. ‘Well, it might be difficult for her. None of us know what goes on in people’s lives away from work.’

  Kitty laughed. ‘You always want to think good of people, and that can get you into trouble as you well know. I don’t think Miss Hetherington’s got a kind bone in her entire body.’

  Annie shrugged. ‘I just prefer to think there’s not as many bad people out there as we think and, anyway, why would anyone want to keep thinking bad things? It must make for a sad life.’

  Kitty smiled. ‘You are just too kind for your own good, and Miss Hetherington thinks badly of everybody here so she deserves what she gets.’

  ‘But she could have problems at home that we don’t even know about.’

  Kitty picked up a cup, took a sip of the hot brown liquid. She licked her lips. ‘That’s a good cup of coffee, Annie, thank you, and as for Miss Hetherington, if she doesn’t share her problems then how are we meant to know?’

  Stan put down his empty cup. ‘I think this is one of those conversations that you two will never agree on, so I will leave you to it.’ He stood up and turned to walk towards the doorway. ‘Thanks for the coffee, Annie. You can now talk about wedding dresses, which might be a safer subject for you both.’

  Kitty took the damp sponge and gradually wiped the make-up from her face. ‘I shouldn’t be too long if you want to wait?’

  ‘That’s fine. I’ve got things to do so I’ll come back when I’m finished.’ Stan walked through the open doorway pulling the door closed behind him.

  Annie put down her cup. ‘Right, let’s get you out of your costume and then you can go and see Stan while I sort myself out.’

  Kitty put down her cup. She ran her fingers through her hair, fluffing it out before pushing a brush through it. ‘We could get Rose in here while we get changed.’

  There was a sharp rap at the door. Annie walked over to open it. ‘Oh, Rose, we were just talking about you.’

  Rose chuckled. ‘That doesn’t sound good. Mr Tyler said you wanted to s
ee me.’

  Annie stood aside. ‘It’s nothing to worry about. We’ve been discussing Kitty’s wedding dress. She can’t decide what sort to have. I wondered if you could use your talent to make her one?’

  Rose gasped. ‘I have to say I’ve never made a wedding dress so it depends what sort of thing you wanted. I don’t want to say yes and then do it wrong. After all a wedding dress is something special.’

  Kitty turned to look at Rose. ‘I have faith in you, Rose. You are an excellent seamstress and it might be good experience for you. You never know where these things can lead to.’

  Rose nodded. ‘No, I understand that but I don’t want you to have a dress that will spoil your day.’

  Annie rubbed Rose’s arm. ‘I can’t imagine you would ever allow that to happen.’

  Rose’s eyes widened. ‘All right, I’ll do some sketches of what you might like and then we’ll see where we go from there.’

  Kitty breathed a sigh of relief. ‘That just leaves the food and the ring, but Stan can sort the ring out.’

  Rose looked at Kitty as she stepped out of her dress. ‘Where are you holding the reception?’

  ‘That’s something else I haven’t decided. To be honest there’s not going to be that many people attending so I don’t really want a big do. It will be people like us; the theatre is my home and my family so I just want a small place with good food.’

  Annie looked tentatively at Rose. Rose looked back at her. Their eyes widened as they stared each other.

  ‘We have a friend who runs a café. It’s called Meet and Feast. We could talk to her about closing early and maybe decorating it for your wedding. What do you think?’

  ‘What is the place like?’

  Rose shrugged. ‘Well, it’s just a café, but put cloths on the tables and small vases of cut flowers in the middle and it can make all the difference. We could even add lace at the windows or something.’

  Kitty smiled at the girls. ‘I’m so lucky to be surrounded by such creative people. I say we go with the suggestions. It’s something different and I like that.’

  Annie nodded. ‘We’ll talk to Joyce, and let you know what she says but know that we won’t let you down.’