by Tania Crosse
Hillie’s jaw clamped down in anger. ‘The more I think about it, the more convinced I am. It’s as if he wants to punish me all the time.’
‘I just hope for your sake he don’t find out about you and Jimmy.’
‘He might have to one day.’
Gert shot her a sideways glance. ‘If you get serious, you mean? And are you getting serious? You didn’t seem too sure when I asked just now.’
Hillie hesitated a moment, trying to put some sense into her own tangled emotions. ‘I do like Jimmy very much,’ she confessed. ‘I seem to live for the weekends and the time I spend with him. Mind you, it means I don’t get so much time for reading. I miss having my nose in a book all the time. But Jimmy makes me laugh, and he’s kind and thoughtful, too. We both like films and walking in the park, and gazing at the stars and dreaming of a better life. But does that mean I truly love him?’
Hillie was hoping her dear friend would have some words of wisdom to offer, and was disappointed when Gert merely shrugged.
‘Search me. Seeing as I’ve never had a boyfriend, how should I know? But tonight, Miss Hardwick,’ she announced, her face illuminating with cheer as she linked her arm through Hillie’s, ‘it’s gonna be just me and me old mate. So what we gonna do, then? Flicks? Or dancing, maybe?’
‘Oh, I don’t really mind. Whatever you want. If it stays fine, I’m happy just walking in the park till it closes. I like being there at the end of the day when it’s quieter, but with the evenings drawing in, we won’t get much more chance to do that. But it’s up to you.’
‘Tell you what, then.’ Gert’s happy smile broadened. ‘Got to help your mum this afternoon, ain’t you? But call for me about five and we’ll go for a stroll in the park, and then maybe catch a train up the West End. We can’t afford a show or anything, but it’s fun just being there and seeing all the lights, ain’t it? We can celebrate.’
‘Celebrate? Celebrate what?’
‘Why, us, of course. Us being best mates forever and ever.’ Her face was stiff with solemnity, making Hillie’s eyebrows dip in bemusement. Then Gert burst out laughing, eyes twinkling with teasing. ‘Know your trouble, Hill? You take life too blooming seriously. No wonder you need the likes of Jimmy Baxter to cheer you up. But tonight, girl, it’s just you and me against the world!’
Hillie forced a smile to her lips. She was looking forward so much to spending the evening with Gert, so did that mean she didn’t love being with Jimmy as much as she thought? Walking out with him felt like the end of an era: the end of the childhood she and Gert had shared. But when Jimmy took her in his arms and his mouth sought hers more passionately now, she felt the excitement frothing up inside her. It felt right in her heart. But when she stood back as she was now, she wasn’t really sure what she felt.
*
‘Hello, Kit!’ Hillie greeted Gert’s brother as he opened the door to her later that afternoon. ‘Nice surprise! Gert didn’t say you’d be here.’
‘That’s ’cos she didn’t know,’ Kit grinned back, his generous mouth curving pleasantly. ‘I’m just leaving actually. Only popped in for a few minutes. I must say, though, you look very fetching,’ he observed with an approving nod of his head. ‘Gert’s not quite ready. As usual.’
‘Oi, you! I heard that!’ a disembodied voice squawked down the stairs. ‘Just putting on me lipstick.’
‘War paint,’ Kit corrected, muttering under his breath. ‘Anyway, have a good time whatever you end up doing. Gert says this Jimmy fellow of yours is doing something else tonight. Not two-timing you, I hope.’
Hillie’s eyes flashed at him. Kit was smiling in that enigmatic way he had, and Hillie wasn’t sure if he was pulling her leg or whether there was some serious inference in his words. But, no. She refused to doubt Jimmy. After all, she could easily go to the pub to check up on him, and surely he wouldn’t take that risk if he was aiming to lie to her.
‘He’s been asked to do an extra shift in the bar at the Falcon tonight,’ she answered, her tone crisper than she meant it to be. ‘And Gert would’ve been on her own, so it’s worked out well. Tell you what, mind,’ she went on, not wanting to seem churlish, ‘why don’t you come with us?’
The idea was actually quite appealing. Kit was always good company, and to be honest, she’d feel more comfortable with a man beside her in the heaving heart of London. So she found herself feeling somewhat let down by Kit’s reply.
‘Kind of you to ask,’ he said with a shrug of his shoulders, ‘but I’m going out for a pint with some of the lads from the station later on. Never mind, another time. When your Jimmy’s not around,’ he concluded. But as he stepped past her onto the pavement, he suddenly turned back. ‘You know, Hill,’ he said, his forehead wrinkling into an anxious frown, ‘I wish you weren’t going out with him. It’s too dangerous for one thing. I know your dad disapproves, and if he found out—’
‘Well, he’s not going to, is he?’ Hillie’s eyes snapped back at him. ‘Only you and Gert and your mum and dad know, and none of you are going to give me away. I haven’t even told my own mum ’cos it’s better she doesn’t know. And at work, Jimmy keeps right away from me. Only Belinda there knows, and she can be trusted to keep her mouth shut. So you’ve no need to worry.’
‘But I do, Hill. I’d feel awful if anything happened to you.’
The expression on his face was so earnest that Hillie relaxed into a smile. ‘It’s nice of you to be so protective. Like you always have been. Like a big brother,’ she grinned now. ‘But it’s not necessary.’
But she couldn’t coax a smile from him. ‘Well, I still don’t think he’s right for you,’ Kit insisted. ‘I have to agree with your dad on that. You’re bright and intelligent. And what’s Jimmy? Don’t you ever wonder what it is he does on these so-called errands he runs every now and then? And why doesn’t he seem to have any friends? Do people not trust him?’
Hillie felt herself bristle again. ‘People don’t know him,’ she protested.
‘And you do?’
‘Yes. And he makes me laugh and forget that I’m stuck in a boring job and a boring life with a father who’s always at my throat and my mum’s.’
Kit drew in a deep breath as he stared at her, and then shook his head as he let it out in a disapproving stream. ‘Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.’ And then laying his hand on her arm, he looked intently into her eyes as he told her, ‘You know I’ll always be there for you, Hill. No matter what.’
Leaning down, he took her by surprise by brushing a kiss on her cheek. But before she had time to react, he called out a last goodbye to his family and strode off down the street.
Hillie stood there for a second or two, frowning in bewilderment. Kit was wrong about Jimmy, but he was right that she was taking a huge risk. She’d just have to make sure her dad never found out, unless things got really serious between her and Jimmy and he had to be told. It was good of Kit to be so concerned, of course, and when she searched inside herself, Hillie was disappointed that he wasn’t coming with her and Gert up to the West End.
But she wasn’t going to let their conversation spoil her evening out. Gert still hadn’t materialised, so Hillie went down the hallway to the back room, knowing the Parker family would be gathered round the table. Sure enough, the familiar tableau greeted her as she opened the door: Old Sal in her armchair by the empty fireplace, toothless mouth wide open as she snored for England, Stan lost in the sports page of that morning’s newspaper, and the four younger Parker offspring sitting at the table, stuffing their tea of bread and dripping into their hungry little mouths. Eva was lovingly supervising baby Primrose who was wriggling around in the scratched and battered wooden highchair, the tray of which looked little more sanitary than the kitchen table.
‘Hello, Hillie love,’ Stan welcomed her, half-smoked cigarette dangling precariously from the corner of his mouth. ‘Did you know Fulham’s doing quite nicely in the new season? In Division Two, but stand a good chance of getting promoted if t
hey play well enough. I’d’ve liked to have gone to today’s match, only it was away to Notts County.’
‘Oh, Stan,’ Eva reprimanded him. ‘Hillie don’t want to hear about that, do you, ducks? I hear you and our Gert are gonna paint the town red tonight.’
‘I’m not too sure about that,’ Hillie chuckled, grateful to forget her discussion with Kit, ‘but I’m sure we’ll have a good time.’
‘Sure you will. But just you be careful, two pretty young girls alone in the big city. And watch out for pickpockets.’
Hillie had been on the receiving end of the very same lecture from her own father, except that his had been delivered in such strident terms that she’d been worried he was going to forbid her to go at all. But now she smiled back reassuringly at Stan. ‘I haven’t got anything worth stealing. And don’t worry. We’ll stick—’
‘Ready!’ The door flew open, bouncing back on its hinges, and Gert burst into the room in her favourite, well-darned summer dress. Her bright hair had been scooped up into an untidy chignon, and her lips glowed a cardinal red. But then, Gert would always be Gert, and Hillie didn’t think there’d ever be any changing her. Besides, she’d never want her friend to be any other way.
‘Right. Off we go, then. Bye, Mr and Mrs P.’
‘Enjoy yourselves!’
‘Thanks, we will!’
‘You’ve certainly dolled yourself up,’ Hillie giggled as they stepped out into the street. ‘You wearing mascara?’
‘I am that.’ Gert lifted her chin proudly. ‘What d’you think? It’s quite hard to put on. You have this little block of black stuff and a stiff little brush you have to wet to put it on with.’
‘Well, I reckon you’ve put a bit too much on, but for a first effort, it looks pretty good.’
‘You’re being diplo-what’s-it, ain’t you?’ Gert’s face fell. ‘Oh, Lordy love, you don’t think I look tarty, do you? I want to find meself a man, but he’s got to be the right sort.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll protect you!’ Hillie laughed, and they linked arms, snuggling close as they’d done all their lives.
It was as they turned the corner of the street that they all but collided with a figure backed up against the wall of the pub as if it would like to disappear into thin air. The girl was gnawing on her tightly clenched knuckles, whimpering like a terrified animal. Hillie couldn’t believe her eyes. It was Jessica Braithwaite! They both stopped dead in their tracks. What on earth had happened to upset their young neighbour so much? She was in a right old state!
‘Whatever’s the matter?’ Hillie was the first to speak. ‘Have you hurt yourself?’
‘Oh.’ Jessica’s eyebrows were almost joined in her angst, her white lips trembling. ‘I-I’ve got…’
The poor girl seemed unable to speak and instead dipped her head sharply down towards the side of her skirt. Just above the hem, a thick smear of something dark and nasty was encrusted on the pretty floral print. As Hillie frowned down at it, her nostrils latched on to the familiar evil odour, and realisation dawned.
‘Oh, heck, is that what I think it is?’ she sympathised. ‘How did you manage that?’
At her question, Jessica recoiled like a frightened rabbit, her pretty china-blue eyes wide like saucers. Everyone found dog mess vile and distasteful, but Hillie sensed that her posh neighbour must have an exceptional horror of it, and her heart went out to her.
‘You’d best get home and wash it off before it stains,’ she advised gently. ‘What bad luck. Tripped over in the street, did you?’
‘N-no,’ Jessica stuttered. ‘Y-you don’t understand. I-I can’t go h-home like this.’
Her voice tightened to a squeak and Hillie exchanged bewildered glances with Gert. Her instinct was to invite Jessica into her own home to wash the offensive stuff from Jessica’s skirt for her. But her dad was indoors and Hillie couldn’t imagine how he’d treat the daughter of the hoity-toity prigs across the road, as he referred to the Braithwaites. The last thing poor Jessica needed was to be on the receiving end of his tongue! So Hillie was relieved when Gert came to the rescue.
‘Blimey, you don’t half look scared. We was just going out, but you’d best come indoors and we’ll clean you up a bit.’
Jessica didn’t appear any the less petrified at Gert’s generosity, and as the two friends ushered her along the street, her eyes were swivelling in every direction, shoulders hunched as if she were trying to melt into the ether. Once inside, she seemed equally as nonplussed by the strange surroundings, although Hillie noticed Gert’s affronted expression when Jessica couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose at the unpleasant smell as they passed the open door to the front room.
‘Mum!’ Gert called as she pushed open the further door, and six pairs of eyes, including baby Primrose’s, turned to stare at the three young women unexpectedly entering the room. Only Old Sal slept on regardless.
‘You forget something?’ Eva asked in surprise, and then spying Jessica, her face stiffened and she hitched up her ample bosom. ‘Oh, look who’ve we got here, then.’
‘Jessica fell over and got some dog muck on her skirt and she’s scared to go home ’cos of what her parents might say,’ Gert explained in a matter-of-fact way.
Eva’s expression at once softened and her natural maternal instincts got the better of her. ‘Mean to say they’d tell you off just for that? You poor lamb.’
‘Let’s have a butchers at the damage.’ Stan relinquished his newspaper and came round to the other side of the table. ‘Oh, is that all? Well, if Gert can lend you something to slip on for a few minutes, I’ll wash it off for you out in the yard.’
‘And you look like you could do with a nice cuppa,’ Eva nodded, the trusty cup of tea being her answer to all ills. ‘But first, you go next door to change,’ she instructed as Gert went out of the door and they all heard her clumping up the stairs.
Jessica, though, appeared rooted to the spot, so Hillie herded her into the front room. She wasn’t sure what Jessica would think of this parlour converted into a bedroom for an incontinent old lady and two small children, one of whom still wet the bed on occasion. But if Jessica had any feelings of distaste, she hid them well enough, not even wrinkling her nose this time. A few minutes later, they were all back in the kitchen, Jessica wearing Gert’s spare skirt, and Stan took the soiled garment out into the yard.
‘I don’t know, strange folk what’d give you a ticking-off for that,’ Eva muttered under her breath as she bustled around the kitchen, suddenly inspired to wipe the crumb-strewn table with a suspicious-looking grey cloth. ‘Tripping up in the street with these blessed uneven pavements. Could happen to any of us.’
‘Oh, no.’ Jessica suddenly seemed to come to life, warmed perhaps by the steaming tea Eva had thrust into her hand. If she had noticed that the mug was chipped, she didn’t make any comment. ‘That isn’t what happened,’ she said openly, and then instantly clapped her free hand over her mouth, eyes stricken fearfully again. ‘Oh, you won’t say anything, will you?’
Eva had picked Primrose out of the highchair and was now cuddling the child on her lap. ‘To your parents, you mean? And when did either of them engage in conversation with the likes of me, may I ask?’
Jessica cast down her eyes and a peachy hue flushed into her pale cheeks. ‘They do both think a lot of themselves, I know. In Daddy’s case, I think it’s from being in charge of so many people at work, and having to keep them in check all the time.’
Eva glanced up from reaching across with her free hand to help Trudy as the little ones clambered down from the table and then charged out into the yard. ‘Ought to have this lot to take care of,’ she pouted. ‘Then he’d know what keeping bodies in check really means.’
Hillie had to smile to herself. Eva was a wonderful mother, but the good lady could hardly claim to have too much control over her family. If asked to describe the Parker household, the word chaotic would have instantly sprung to mind!
‘Your father’s a floor manag
er at Arding and Hobbs, isn’t he?’ Hillie asked, trying to divert the conversation.
‘Yes. He has the jewellery and expensive glass and china departments under him. So he has to be very careful. Thank you for the tea, by the way, and for being so kind.’
‘Not at all,’ Eva beamed proudly. ‘You was in a proper state. But I still don’t see what all the blooming fuss was about.’
‘Forgive me, but you don’t know my parents.’ Hillie noticed Jessica’s eyes move darkly from one to the other, and she chewed on her bottom lip before continuing. ‘You see, they hate dogs. Well, animals of any sort. Call them dirty, nasty things. But the thing is…’ She broke off, hesitating once again, but then apparently made up her mind. ‘Well, I love them. And twice a week, I go for a piano lesson. Wednesday mornings and Saturday afternoons. Only on the way home, I call into Battersea Dogs’ Home and help out for half an hour. That’s how I got the mess on my skirt. But it wasn’t until I was almost home that I realised.’
‘So that’s why you were so scared,’ Hillie said, piecing it all together.
‘Yes. My parents would kill me if they knew what I’m doing behind their backs. Daddy’d probably confine me to my room and the atmosphere would be awful for days.’
‘But couldn’t you just say that you fell over in the street like we thought you had?’ Hillie asked, thinking that being sent to her room would be better than the slap or worse her own dad usually meted out as punishment for anything he considered a misdemeanour.
‘Yes, but my father would want to know chapter and verse. Exactly where I fell over so that he could complain to the council if it was because of an uneven paving slab or something. And then he’d be on about dog-fouling and trying to find out whose dog it was. I just couldn’t face all that.’
‘Well, it’s a crying shame when a girl’s frightened of her own parents,’ Eva declared fiercely. ‘Give them the length of my tongue, I will, next time I—’
‘No, please, I’d rather you didn’t,’ Jessica pleaded. ‘If they had any suspicions about what I’ve been up to, they’d stop me going out on my own at all.’
