Christmas on Coronation Street

by Maggie Sullivan

  She was so grateful for all his teaching, she thought she should offer him something in return. So she showed him how she and her sister often sneaked into the cinema for free of an evening.

  ‘I’m surprised you and your mates don’t know about it already. It’s somewhere to go when the weather’s bad.’

  ‘I’ve never been mithered to go to the cinema,’ he said. ‘Me mam took me a few times when I was little. But she only wanted to see soppy love stories. You know the sort. Lots of mushy kissing.’

  Elsie stared at him, her mouth open. He looked a little sheepish as he grinned. ‘It’s one thing doing it, quite another having to watch others at it. So I stopped going.’

  But once Elsie had introduced him to the likes of Billy the Kid and Roy Rogers, he changed his mind. Randolph Scott became his particular hero and after that he was happy to go with her to see pretty much any action film.

  Whilst it wasn’t easy for them to find time to go out together, they did see each other every night at the Butcher’s Arms. Whenever she could, Elsie waited for him so they could stroll home together. If it wasn’t too cold, they would sit out on the Field for a while, smoking one of Stan’s roll-ups between them. One evening they came to the waste ground to find it looking quite different. Two or three small mounds had appeared that definitely hadn’t been there before.

  ‘What the hell’s this?’ Elsie asked, poking at one of them. Although it was sticking up quite a way out of the ground, when they peered inside it was possible to see from the light of the nearby gas lamp that it had been dug out of the mud so that part of it sloped down underground. It was dark inside and smelt of freshly dug earth.

  ‘It looks like it could be used as some sort of shelter in case there is actually going to be a war. They say the Germans have bombs that they would drop on us, if they can. I’ve read about it in the papers,’ Stan said.

  Elsie was sceptical. ‘You bloody men, that’s all you ever think about. Why can’t you get it into your thick heads that there’s not going to be a war?’

  Stan shrugged. ‘I dunno. We can’t be sure, Else. There still might be one. Then we’d all need one of these.’

  ‘If there was a war, I can tell you I wouldn’t fancy being holed up in one of them for very long,’ Elsie said. ‘You can’t fit many people in there, for a start. You’d need one for each of us or a bloody great big one for everybody in the street.’

  ‘I suppose each family could have their own.’

  ‘Oh yes, and where the hell would they put it?’

  ‘In the back garden.’

  ‘And who the hell’s got one of them?’ Elsie wanted to know. She was thinking of Back Gas Street and wondering where all the residents would go. In the midden off the courtyard?

  ‘That’s true,’ Stan said. ‘Not many folk in these parts have got that much room.’

  ‘Never mind that. The blooming thing itself is scary. It would make me feel like one of those animals that you see in books. Don’t they live in little tunnels like this? What do you call them? Is it badgers or something?’

  ‘It wouldn’t matter what it made you feel like, let me tell you if the bloody Germans did start dropping bombs on us we’d be glad of having one, even if we had to crawl into it.’

  ‘Frankly, I wouldn’t mind if someone bombed our house,’ Elsie said. ‘It’s about the best thing that could happen to it. It’s no better than a mudhole right now.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Stan said with a rueful snigger, ‘I know what you mean. It’s true of a lot of places round here.’

  Elsie smiled. ‘Can you imagine – the kids would be like pigs in clover if these things started popping up all over the show! They’d want to be playing hide and seek in them all the time.’

  ‘True, and you couldn’t blame them.’ Stan went to investigate the little tunnel more closely. He ducked into the entrance. ‘You can just about stand up in it.’ He chuckled. ‘I can think of better uses than kids’ games.’ He stepped further inside, but not before he had grabbed hold of Elsie’s hand to take her with him. Then he pulled the tin door over the entrance.

  Elsie was stunned into silence for a moment as they were plunged into pitch darkness. Before she could say anything, Stan covered her mouth with his own. She giggled as she sensed his hand groping under her skirt. Feeling him hard against her, she immediately began fumbling with his buttons.

  It was over very quickly. Elsie hardly had time to catch her breath. It felt so amazingly daring; although the door was closed and no one could see them, they were practically standing in the street. Elsie started to laugh but it turned into a coughing fit and she lunged for the entrance and fresh air, with Stan hurriedly trying to straighten her clothing as she emerged into the yellowy gas light. She was still choking but Stan was right behind her, slapping her on the back. Then he fastened his own buttons before putting his arms round her.

  ‘Our secret,’ he whispered into her ear. ‘This is only between you and me.’

  The idea of having such a secret with someone as special as Stan thrilled Elsie. Which was why she was so upset to discover that it didn’t remain a secret very long.

  One night after work a few days later she went home with her friend Aggie. It was something they liked to do when Aggie’s family were all out and they had the place to themselves. They would sit together on the couch in the front room swapping stories and feeling proper grown-up. Elsie had told her friend lots about her new boyfriend and Aggie had been thrilled to share in Elsie’s excitement about her birthday present and the trip to the moors. But tonight when they sat down in front of the fire, Aggie wasn’t her usual smiling self. In fact she had a frighteningly serious look on her face.

  ‘Is summat up, Aggs?’ Elsie asked. ‘You know you can tell me, whatever it is. By the look on your face, anyone’d think the dog ate your dinner.’ Elsie nudged her friend, trying to chivvy her into a smile.

  But Aggie didn’t smile. Her forehead puckered into a frown. She didn’t answer immediately and when she did, she refused to look directly at Elsie. ‘There’s something I’ve got to tell you,’ she began, as if Elsie hadn’t spoken. ‘It’s about Stan, and I think you should know.’

  ‘Why, what’s up wi’ ’im?’ Elsie was beginning to feel anxious now.

  ‘I mean, I know you two have been doing a spot of courting,’ Aggie said hesitantly.

  ‘I don’t know as I would say we were courting.’ Elsie relaxed a little and grinned. ‘Not yet awhile.’

  ‘No, well, you know what I mean. You have been sort of “stepping out”.’

  ‘Good God, Aggie, that makes it sound dead posh. It’s just me and him … like. Well, we work together at night in the pub. He walks me home afterwards. You know …’

  ‘No, that’s just it. That’s the point. I don’t know.’

  ‘You don’t know what? Now you’re talking in bloody riddles.’

  Aggie hesitated, then said, ‘I suppose what I’m really asking is, do you know him well enough to trust him?’

  ‘Course I do. I don’t know about courting, but he is me boyfriend, isn’t he? He bought me a birthday present an’ all.’ Elsie jutted her chin out defiantly.

  ‘I know about that and you’ve said nice things about him.’

  ‘Well, I like him, why shouldn’t I? It’s only natural.’

  ‘It’s just, what I’m trying to say is …’ She hesitated again, then blurted, ‘He’s not saying such nice things about you.’ She stopped when she had said that and looked anxiously at Elsie.

  Elsie frowned. ‘How do you mean? What kind of things is he saying?’

  The colour had risen in Aggie’s face and there were two rosy spots on her cheeks. ‘I don’t know if I should. I—’

  ‘Course you should. You’re my mate, aren’t you?’

  Aggie remained silent, avoiding her gaze. Instead she looked down at her hands, which she was clasping and unclasping in her lap.

  Elsie didn’t know what to think. ‘C’mon, spit it out,’ she
said. ‘I want to know what he’s been saying.’

  Aggie took a deep breath. ‘He’s saying …’ She had been unwilling to tell her friend the awful stories Stan was spreading about her, but now it felt as though she had opened the floodgates. Aggie sat forward and Elsie looked at her in anticipation, but her friend only sagged back into the chair. The rosy spots had disappeared and her face now looked drained.

  ‘For crying out loud!’ Elsie was torn between irritation and alarm. ‘You can’t stop in the middle like that.’

  Aggie spoke again and this time the words came out in a rush, although her voice was barely above a whisper.

  ‘It’s about that day on the moors. Your birthday. And you finding that old house and …’

  Elsie felt the blood drain from her face. Knowing what must be coming, she wasn’t sure now that she wanted to hear it, but Aggie was still speaking softly. ‘You kissed him? Right?’

  ‘Yeah, I bloody kissed him. Isn’t that what people do when they have a boyfriend? Don’t you and Danny …?’

  ‘I’m not talking about me.’ Aggie dismissed the question sharply. ‘Did you …? You know … did you go any further?’

  Elsie felt the blood rush to her face. The girls at the factory giggled about what they got up to with their boyfriends, but it was all very ‘nudge nudge, wink wink’ and no one talked in any real detail about what went on between a man and a woman – not to girls of her age, at any rate. Elsie knew that she wasn’t like most of the other girls and she was starting to realize that doing things your own way could attract the wrong sort of attention.

  ‘He’s my boyfriend, I told you,’ Elsie said, as convincingly as she could. But then she stopped. No longer so sure of anything. A cold shiver ran down her spine. ‘What’s he been saying?’ Elsie demanded. ‘I’ve got a right to know.’

  ‘Stan’s been boasting. About what you two got up to – not just on the moors, but on the Field as well.’

  Elsie felt the gorge rise in her throat. She was so angry, she couldn’t speak. The toad. For that’s all he was. A snitching toad. And all the while she’d thought they’d had something special.

  ‘I hope I did the right thing, telling you.’ Aggie’s voice was tentative. ‘Only, I was mithered about what other people might be saying. Some of the girls at the factory … well, they’ve not been saying kind things about you. Calling you a slut and rotten stuff like that.’

  Elsie gave her friend a doleful smile. ‘Ah well, you should know me well enough by now to know I don’t give a bugger what other people might say. What I do or don’t do isn’t any of their bloody business.’ She sighed. ‘Isn’t life hard enough as it is, without having to fight for me sodding reputation.’

  ‘Oh, Elsie, are you a slut?’ Aggie had such a worried look that Elsie couldn’t take it seriously. To her friend’s astonishment, she burst out laughing.

  ‘I don’t know whether I am or not. What’s more, I don’t care. All I know is the way Stan makes me feel – or he did, at any rate. Stop looking so worried, Aggs.’

  ‘But aren’t you worried about getting … you know … in the family way?’

  Elsie cocked her head to one side. ‘Stan said he was careful, whatever that means.’

  Aggie threw her arms round her. ‘Elsie Grimshaw, you’re a one and no mistake. What am I going to do with you?’

  ‘Still be my friend, I should hope.’

  Aggie nodded. ‘Of course, I’ll always be that.’

  ‘It’s that bloody Stan,’ said Elsie, still fuming. ‘He’s the one needs pulling down a peg or two. He swore on his life not to tell another living soul. Wait till I get my hands on him!’

  Chapter 9

  Elsie left Aggie’s house in such a fury it was all she could do to contain herself. Somehow she was going to have to keep a lid on her emotions until closing time at the Butcher’s. With old Hairy watching like a hawk, she would have to be civil to Stan during the course of the evening shift; she daren’t let her anger spill over and risk upsetting her boss. In the event, all she could manage was short, curt responses whenever he spoke to her. The first time she did it, he looked at her surprised for he had no inkling of what was going on. She quite relished the fact that he would have to remain puzzled, for there was no opportunity to talk once they had set to work.

  Fortunately, she had no time to think about it after pulling the first pint, for it was the stag night of one of their regulars who was getting married the next day. As she watched the men in the party became more and more drunk, Elsie thought with pity about the poor bride-to-be. The young groom must have spent the whole of his wage packet standing drinks for everyone at the bar, even sending some through for the ladies in the snug. Elsie was pleased with her own pickings, for she did well in tips by the end of the evening. And she could have been flat-out drunk too, if she had taken up all the free drinks every time they were offered. She did sneak a couple of shorts at the end of the evening when she knew everyone had been served. Not that she needed Dutch courage, but when she saw Stan slip himself a Scotch or two she thought it wouldn’t do any harm to be well fortified for what she knew was to come.

  When she and Stan finally quit the pub, the rowdy mob from the pre-wedding party had left before them, nursing their already sore heads. Stan was in a mellow mood. Before they’d gone as far as the top of the lane that led to the main road, he was feeling for her hand. Elsie snatched it away and folded her arms firmly across her chest. Stan stopped walking. He was laughing as he stood in front of her, imitating her posture.

  ‘Blimey, Else, you look fierce tonight,’ he said. ‘If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you were mad at me for summat. You’ve been snippy all evening.’

  ‘You do know me well enough, Stan Walsh,’ she said, moving her hands to her hips and planting her feet firmly apart. ‘The way I hear it, you’ve been telling the world just how well you know me.’

  At that Stan laughed and looked relieved. ‘Oh, is that what this is all about? Me showing you off as my girlfriend? If a bloke can’t boast around the place about his woman, then the world is a sorry place.’

  ‘Is that what it was, boasting? Boasting about your easy conquest, more like.’ Elsie felt as if every nerve ending was fired and ready to explode. No doubt this was how her father felt when he came home sozzled and let fly at her or one of the kids. The booze definitely gave her that extra edge. But she didn’t need any more alcohol to finish this fight, thank you very much. Her anger was already well fuelled.

  ‘Of course. I wanted to share my good fortune. Tell everyone I’m the happiest man there is.’

  ‘What about it being “our secret”? “Just between the two of us”, like you said.’

  ‘Yes, well, doesn’t everybody say that? But it doesn’t mean you have to stick to it totally.’

  Elsie opened her mouth to contradict but was so flabbergasted she couldn’t find the words. She didn’t have to worry though, because now that he had started, Stan kept going. ‘Anyway,’ he said, ‘I should have thought you’d be pleased. I want everyone to know I’ve got the best girl in the world. C’mon, Elsie, don’t be cross. You know I think you’re a smasher. I’d never say nowt bad about you. It’s those jealous old bags at the factory that have twisted it.’

  It was the whisky talking. Elsie knew that. But Stan’s words seemed to be having the desired effect and she could feel her temper starting to lessen, ‘Do you mean it?’ No one had ever said such a nice thing to her before.

  He nodded.

  She was horrified when she felt the prickle of tears and she brushed them away hastily with the palms of her hands before they could plop on her cheeks and embarrass her. ‘Gerroff with you!’ was all she managed to say.

  ‘Surely you didn’t think I meant to hurt you, did you?’ Stan stepped closer and wrapped her in his arms. ‘I wanted to shout it from the rooftops!’ At that he ran off to the nearest lamppost chanting, ‘I’ve got the best girl, Elsie Grimshaw!’ as he swung himself round. When he ran to
the next lamppost, still singing out of tune, Elsie yelled, ‘Shut up, you daft sod! You’ll wake the neighbours.’

  ‘Good. That’s the idea.’

  His grin was so cheeky, Elsie found herself grinning too. It was impossible to stay mad at him.

  He came back to stand in front of her again and put his hands on her shoulders. ‘Do you forgive me?’ he said, and this time he looked so apologetic she had to laugh. He might have given the spiteful gossips at the factory more grist to the mill, but could she really withhold her forgiveness?

  At that moment a thought crossed her mind and she stared up at him, determined to meet his gaze. As she locked eyes with him, she thought: Bloody hell, I love him! And I think he loves me. I’ve seen enough films to know.

  ‘Yes, I forgive you,’ she said, and she put her hands up to his face. He kissed her eagerly and she felt herself melting as if he were Errol Flynn. It was worthwhile getting angry once in a while if the making up was always as rewarding as this.

  ‘What did you think to the stag do tonight?’ Stan’s voice brought her back to the street and the fine drizzle that was hanging in the chilly night air. They were strolling hand in hand now and it was as if the previous few minutes had never happened.

  ‘I’ve not been rushed off me feet like that since Christmas,’ Elsie replied.

  ‘They enjoyed themselves.’ Stan seemed deep in thought for a moment but his voice was casual when he said, ‘Shame I won’t be able to have my do there. But I’m sure you wouldn’t want to spend the night watching me and my mates getting pie-eyed.’

  ‘Your do?’ Elsie queried. She was not sure she had heard right, though she could feel her heart beginning to pound. ‘Have I missed something?’

  ‘You don’t have to worry. I’m not about to tie the knot yet. But you know we will one of these days, don’t you? I reckon we shouldn’t leave it too long to get wed.’

  Elsie was choked. ‘The two of us, getting wed?’

  He nodded. ‘Why not? I’ve told me mam about you and she thinks it’s a good idea. She’d like to meet you. I reckon we should think about it as soon as I get back.’