Christmas on Coronation Street

by Maggie Sullivan

  Tears trickled down Elsie’s face when he said that, for she knew he was right.

  ‘Anyway, I fancy a bit of slap and tickle after I’ve been tramping round Weatherfield all day. Stop thinking about her and come and look after me instead.’ He roughly pushed her towards the bedroom. Elsie went, somewhat reluctantly for once. She felt sad that one so young should be lost to the family. But she knew Arnold was right and there was nothing she could do. All that she could hope was that Phyllis would remain safe. Young as she was, Elsie would have to leave her to live her own life in her own way.

  Chapter 25

  Fay found working as a waitress was very hard on the feet and required different skills from sitting at a typewriter or taking down dictation. As the tutor had warned her, everyone wanted to be served at once and she spent her shift rushing back and forth trying to remember any orders she hadn’t had time to write down. There was little opportunity for her to find food for herself and by the end of the day she felt too tired to carry on with the homework they were given by each class tutor. Somehow she did find the energy though and she continued her studies at home taking special care of the second-hand workbook she had managed to buy from the tips she made. It was harder when Elsie wasn’t there, but as soon as she had finished with tea and before the younger girls went to bed, she found some time to hide herself in the bedroom to practise her shorthand and swat up on what she had been told she would need to know for the examinations. She was determined to pass all her courses first attempt, without having to fit in extra sessions.

  When she was finally presented with her full secretarial certificate there was no happier student than Fay Grimshaw and she invited Elsie to join her at the little presentation ceremony they held at the college.

  ‘I’m so thrilled for you, Sis!’ Elsie hugged Fay hard.

  ‘Now we’ll both be able to get out of Back Gas Street,’ Fay whispered in her sister’s ear. At this, both girls had tears in their eyes.

  ‘What will you do about getting a job?’ Elsie wanted to know.

  ‘That shouldn’t be too difficult,’ Fay said. ‘Here, let me show you.’ Taking Elsie’s hand, she led her to the noticeboard outside the manager’s office. The manager was just returning from the hall where the ceremony had been held.

  ‘Ah, Miss Grimshaw!’ she accosted Fay. ‘I see you managed to juggle it all in the end, well done.’

  ‘Thank you, Miss Shepherd.’ Fay bobbed a curtsy. ‘And thank you for giving me the opportunity.’

  Miss Shepherd looked at Elsie, who stared back at her, unblinking.

  ‘I’m her sister,’ Elsie said.

  ‘You should be proud of her.’ The manager nodded towards Fay.

  ‘Oh, but I am,’ Elsie said and beamed.

  ‘I think you should find something there to suit you.’ Miss Shepherd glanced at the noticeboard. ‘I would actually recommend this one.’ She pointed to a job that was being advertised in a solicitors’ office in Manchester.

  ‘Really?’ Fay was astonished the woman seemed to be taking such a personal interest.

  ‘Yes, really.’ The manager gave a little smile. ‘And I should be delighted to write a reference for you.’

  Fay opened her mouth to say thank you but Miss Shepherd had already swept into her office and shut the door.

  ‘Gosh, I don’t know how she knows this one would suit me,’ Fay said, reading the notice carefully. ‘Only problem is, it means travelling into the centre of town every day.’

  ‘You’d have to take the tram.’ Elsie shrugged. ‘It still might be worth it. Depends what wages they’re offering.’

  ‘It doesn’t say. I’ve got enough money for the tram to get me to the interview, so maybe I should apply and see what I make of it.’

  ‘Definitely,’ Elsie said.

  ‘That’s decided then: I’ll write to them,’ Fay said, and she linked Elsie’s arm and gave it a squeeze as the two set off, delighted with the day’s work.

  The tram dropped Fay in the centre of town and from there it was a short walk across the square and into the arcade. The offices were on the third floor; after listening to the clanging metal of the iron lift gates, Fay decided to walk up the stone staircase. The name Talbot and Jones was printed in black lettering on the frosted glass of the door. Fay knocked timidly, unsure what to do. She thought she heard a reedy voice call, ‘Come in,’ so she turned the handle and poked her head inside the room.

  A woman about the age of Miss Shepherd was sitting behind a large wooden desk. The thin voice didn’t match the sturdiness of her features. The nameplate that stood in front of the blotter said Miss Turner.

  ‘Miss Grimshaw?’ she queried.

  ‘Yes,’ said Fay. ‘I hope I’m not late.’

  ‘Mr Talbot asked for you to be shown in straight away.’

  She pressed a button on her desk and Fay heard a faint buzzer in another room. Miss Turner opened a door behind her that was marked, ‘Private’ and announcing, ‘Miss Grimshaw,’ ushered Fay in.

  She had never had an interview before so she didn’t know what to expect. But she began to relax as Mr Talbot asked her questions about her skills and her certificates and she realized there was nothing she couldn’t handle. But she was thrilled and amazed when he finally said that he would be pleased to offer her the job.

  ‘Would you be available to start straight away?’ he wanted to know. ‘Only my previous secretary is too ill to continue.’ And when Fay said yes, he stood up immediately and shook her hand.

  He called in Miss Turner, who agreed to show Fay which desk would be hers.

  She left Mr Talbot’s office with her head spinning, unable to take in what had just happened. She had landed her first secretarial job within days of finishing at college. Now she knew she was on her way out of Back Gas Street.

  There were two other desks in the large front office, set at angles to Miss Turner’s desk. The empty one would be hers, and Miss Turner said she would order a nameplate as soon as she could. The other one was now occupied by a young man who Miss Turner introduced as Mr Butler, a junior clerk. He was a pleasant-looking man, not much older than Fay was and he smiled shyly at her as he extended his hand.

  ‘Hope you’ll be as happy here as I am,’ he said, smiling.

  Fay barely had time to hang up her jacket before a buzzer sounded on Miss Turner’s desk. The receptionist hurried into Mr Talbot’s room. There was the sound of raised voices, though the words were not clear. When she came back, her cheeks were scarlet. She pulled out several of her desk drawers in quick succession and looked relieved when she picked out a new shorthand pad and a stubby pencil. She thrust them both at Fay. ‘Here,’ she said, ‘take this. Sorry there’s no time to show you around, but Mr Talbot expects you to take some dictation now. He has some urgent letters that must go in the post tonight.’

  Mr Butler gave a snort and hid his face behind his hand as he scurried back behind his desk. Bewildered, Fay took the notebook and pencil and hurried into Mr Talbot’s office. It wasn’t what she had been expecting, but she had worked too hard to fail now. She would have to show them that whatever they threw at her, she was more than capable of doing the job.

  Chapter 26

  Elsie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when she realized she had missed her monthly again. She had never been very regular, so when the first month went by she’d not worried. By the end of the third month she still wasn’t ready to entertain the possibility that she was pregnant, even though she was sick most mornings. Sometimes Stan had used rubber johnnies but Arnold never did, just told her that he knew what he was doing. She knew enough about the birds and the bees by now to know the risks they were taking, but when Arnold was in his drink he didn’t care about being careful. In fact, over the last couple of months, Elsie had seen a different side to Arnold Tanner. He could still be thoughtful on occasion but now she was ‘his’ he could often be brutal and harsh. Especially when he’d had a few drinks. She was learning to read his moods but the
shine had definitely come off whatever feelings she’d had for him in the beginning. Now she’d missed for the third month in a row, she didn’t know what to do. It was not her imagination that her waistline was beginning to expand. Let’s face it, she thought, anyone as scarecrow thin as me can’t really miss it when their belly suddenly begins to bulge.

  So here she was, most likely up the duff, and too terrified to tell Arnold for she had no idea how he would react. When the drink had hold of him he was no better than her father. He had a mean streak and was liable to turn nasty for no particular reason, and then he would really hurt her. She’d had plenty of bruises to show for that. But she couldn’t always predict what would bring out his cruel side, so she had no idea how he would take it when he found out she was pregnant. It wasn’t as though he’d ever mentioned marriage or said he wanted kids of his own. When she’d talked about her brother and sisters, he’d never shown much interest, apart from going to look for Phyllis. As far as she knew, he had no siblings of his own. She, on the other hand, was used to kids. She loved them – so long as there weren’t too many babies without a breathing space between.

  On the plus side, Arnold was great in bed, They had fun and she enjoyed what he had to offer more than she would have thought possible. He could be kind too, like when he paid for her hair, or when he bought her things. But she had to be honest, she didn’t really love him, not like she had Stan. And she was damned sure he didn’t love her.

  Did she really want to be trapped like her mother in a loveless marriage? Especially when she was only sixteen. Then again, could she afford to pass up the chance that pregnancy could offer her a way out of Back Gas Street? All she needed was to persuade him to do the honourable thing. She could do worse than marry Arnold, and he was after all the father of her child. Even so, she couldn’t make up her mind how or when to tell him.

  The person she most had to fear was her father, for she’d always known how he would take such news. The first thing he would do was throw her out. Then he’d probably set about persuading the baby’s father to become a bridegroom, assuming he seemed to be unwilling. But when she thought of Arthur trying to take his belt to the six feet and however many inches there was of Arnold Tanner, a little smile crept on to her face. Arnold was built like a prizefighter, which was why he was such a valuable part of Wormold’s gang. He certainly wouldn’t be afraid of Arthur Grimshaw.

  Knowing she couldn’t put it off any longer, Elsie made her mind up to go to Arnold’s flat straight from work. She didn’t usually go so early, but she didn’t want to go home first to sort out the children’s tea, even though she knew Fay had a special evening planned with Terry Butler. It will do them no harm to fend for themselves for once, she muttered under her breath as she walked to the flat. After all, if things went as she hoped, they might have to do without her altogether very soon.

  She rang the bell as she always did then trudged up the stairs to the fifth floor, pleased that she could see a light on in the flat. She found the climb harder than usual and was out of breath when Arnold opened the door. She threw herself at him in a giant hug and could tell from his face he hadn’t expected such a greeting.

  ‘How did you know I’d be here so early?’ he said.

  ‘I didn’t. I took a chance, that’s all. Thought I could always wait with Joe if you weren’t here yet.’ She threw her jacket over the armchair.

  Arnold gave a laugh. ‘It’s Joe who’s not here yet,’ he said, and he disappeared into the kitchen. ‘I didn’t think we were meeting up tonight so I was planning on going out later on,’ he shouted to her.

  ‘That’s all right,’ Elsie said. ‘I won’t be stopping long.’

  Arnold came back as usual with two beers. Elsie took a long gulp; she needed Dutch courage tonight.

  Arnold sat down on the sofa. ‘It’s good that you’ve come,’ he said between sips of beer. ‘I’ve something to tell you.’

  ‘Yes? And what’s that?’

  ‘I’ll not be moving into number 9 Coronation Street after all.’

  Elsie was surprised.

  ‘Would you believe the old bugger came up with all the rent money just as things were about to get interesting.’ Arnold balled his fist as though he was sorry he had missed a fight.

  ‘That’s a shame,’ Elsie said, not sure how much this might affect her.

  ‘No, it’s not,’ Arnold sniggered. ‘Because I shall be moving into number 11 instead!’ His look was triumphant and Elsie too was pleased. At least he was definitely moving into Coronation Street, which in the long run might be a good thing for her.

  ‘Congratulations.’ She raised her bottle. ‘I’ll drink to that.’

  ‘I think we both will,’ Arnold said, and he clinked his beer with hers.

  Arnold looked round the room and his gaze came back to rest on Elsie. ‘Well, that’s my news. How about you? What’s the reason you’re here so early?’

  Elsie was trying to gather her thoughts but her stomach was flipping back and forth. Suddenly she took the plunge and said, ‘I may as well tell you straight out …’

  This is it, she told herself, now I’m committed. There’s no way out now.

  ‘What?’ Arnold prompted.

  Elsie took another gulp of beer then blurted out, ‘I’m up the duff.’

  Arnold’s eyes widened and he stared alternately at her face and then her stomach. ‘Are you sure? How do you know it’s mine?’

  ‘What do you mean, you rotten bugger? Of course it’s yours!’

  He looked at her belligerently. ‘It didn’t take me long to get into your knickers. How do I know you haven’t been at it with anyone else?’

  Elsie could tell he was goading her. ‘Don’t you try any of that with me, Arnold Tanner! You know bloody well this sprog is yours.’

  Arnold gulped and Elsie could see the panic in his eyes. ‘How can you be sure? Have you seen a doctor?’

  ‘Of course I haven’t seen a doctor, I’ve no money for that. Women just know and that’s all there is to it.’

  ‘But how far gone are you?’

  ‘Three months.’ She looked down and patted her swollen stomach. ‘That’s how I know.’

  ‘I see.’ He sank back into the couch and stared into the neck of the bottle. ‘When’s it due? Any idea?’

  She shrugged. ‘I’d be guessing around January.’

  He gave a grim laugh. ‘We should be well into the war by then.’

  Elsie looked alarmed. ‘Do you really think so?’

  She felt so relieved he hadn’t flown into a rage, she was almost tempted to hug him. But then she realized that he hadn’t suggested they get married.

  ‘Here, finish your drink,’ he said, tipping her bottle. ‘I’ll fetch you another. I know I could sure do with one.’ He went into the kitchen with a dazed look on his face.

  Just then Elsie heard the bedroom door being pulled open and a woman’s voice shouted, ‘Arnold? Arnold, are you there?’

  Elsie stared as a blonde she had never seen before emerged from Arnold’s bedroom. It was like being in a B film. The woman popped her head round the kitchen door and said to Arnold, ‘I’m off. You seem a bit busy with other “things” right now.’

  Then she glided into the living room and retrieved her coat from the back of the door. Elsie felt an uncontrollable rage rise up inside her. How could Arnold muck about with some tart, especially at a time like this? As the woman passed by, Elsie grabbed her by the shoulder. ‘Oh, please don’t leave without something to remember me by—’ And with that she gave the woman an almighty slap across her cheek.

  ‘’Ere, who the ’ell do you think you are?’ the blonde screeched. She went to slap Elsie back, but Arnold jumped in and bundled the woman out of the flat, telling her that he’d see her later.

  Elsie’s eyes flashed with anger. ‘You rotten bastard.’

  ‘Bastard, am I?’ he shot back, and before Elsie could see it coming, he thumped her hard across her skull. ‘That’ll teach you to come
in here throwing your weight around. No one tells me what to do, right? No one.’

  Elsie clutched her head. So this was the sort of man she was going to have a child with, possibly even get saddled with forever. Now she wasn’t sure if she wanted him to do the right thing by her or not – that could be the worse option.

  Not trusting herself to speak, she picked up her cotton jacket that had fallen on to the floor and walked out quickly with as much dignity as she could muster.

  When she got home, all the kids were out playing. Her mother was sitting at the table staring down at a cup of cold tea.

  ‘You’re late.’ Alice looked up briefly. ‘Or are you early? I never can tell when you’re going to turn up these days. Always out gallivanting, always with some bloke or another – giving the family a bad name.’

  Elsie gave a bitter laugh. ‘You’re kidding? It’s not like we had a good name to start with.’

  She drank some milk from the bottle, realized too late it was on the turn and almost retched. The moment she sat down at the table, she burst into tears, unable to contain herself any longer.

  Her mother sat back in the creaking chair and looked at her intently. ‘You got anything to tell me?’ she asked.

  ‘Like what?’ Elsie tried her best to sound defiant.

  ‘Like how far gone you are,’ Alice said.

  Elsie stopped crying as if by magic and stared at her mother.

  ‘No point trying to lie your way out of it, Elsie. I’ve had too many myself not to see it on you. Surely you don’t think I didn’t know?’

  ‘Three months,’ Elsie said.

  Her mother nodded. ‘That’s about what I guessed. Are you all right?’

  Elsie nodded. It was the first time she could remember her mother had asked her such a question.

  ‘Good,’ was all Alice said. ‘You’ll need to be, for I don’t know what’ll happen when your father wakes up to the fact.