Despite the constant activity of her job, Millie’s figure had filled out since Mrs Gallagher had been feeding her. Her face was fuller too, her cheeks a healthy pink and her blue eyes shining. Her dark hair, cut into a shorter bob, was sleek and wavy under the hat. For the first time in her life she was satisfied with the way she looked, and her new clothes made her feel good too.
As she clattered downstairs, she was met by a flustered Sally on her way up.
‘Millie, come quick. Cook wants you!’
Millie’s heart sank at the thought that she might be delayed in getting away. ‘What is it?’ she asked in annoyance.
‘There’s someone to see you,’ Sally gasped, clutching her arm and pulling her forward. ‘Well, more than one, to tell the truth.’ She pushed Millie ahead of her through the kitchen door.
The room seemed to be full of people and chatter, but when Millie took in the scene she realised that there were only half a dozen making the noise. Cook was holding court at the vast table with the two parlourmaids and Ella. But standing half turned away from the door and warming their backs at the fire were two men. Millie’s heart thumped hard as they turned towards her, breaking off from the banter. Walter and Dan Nixon.
Colour rushed into her neck and cheeks like fire as Dan’s handsome face grinned at her.
‘Hello, Millie,’ he said easily, as if their estrangement had never been. ‘We thought we’d come and give you a birthday surprise.’
Millie’s hands flew to her face as she stifled a cry in her throat. She wanted to laugh and weep at the same time at their miracle appearance. ‘How – how did you know?’ she gasped. She looked at Ella for explanation, and then back at Dan.
‘Little carrier pigeon,’ Dan said with a wink, and stepped towards her. ‘Here, this is for you.’ He thrust a wrapped and beribboned parcel at her. ‘Happy birthday.’
Millie’s heartbeat pounded in her ears to have him so close, and she thought he must be able to hear it too. She took the present with trembling hands and stood looking at Dan, unable to disengage her look. His eyes shone with warmth for her.
‘Well open it then,’ Ella cried, coming towards her in excitement. Millie fumbled with the fancy ribbon and tore at the tissue paper, which Ella took from her. Inside was a box. Ella helped her lift the lid, as curious as she was at the surprise. Inside lay a white silk scarf and a pair of black kid gloves. Millie touched them in awe, catching her breath at their quality.
‘Beats the box of chocolates I’ve got you,’ Ella declared, eyes wide.
‘They must have cost a fortune!’ Millie spluttered, looking at Dan in disbelief.
Walter piped up, ‘I paid for them an’ all.’
Millie smiled at the older brother standing in Dan’s shadow.
She was deeply touched. Walter had always been kind to her when she had worked for his mother. ‘Eeh, thank you! Both of you.’ She looked at them, still unable to believe her eyes. How had they suddenly appeared like this, conjured out of the rain?
‘Well, you can thank us with a birthday kiss,’ Dan insisted, and before anyone could argue, he stepped forward and planted a kiss on her lips. Mrs Gallagher clucked in mild shock and the maids tittered, but Millie found her face burning with pleasure. Dan took the scarf and placed it around her neck, brushing her cheek with his hand as he did so, and sending a shiver through her. Ella took her friend by the arm, seeing that she was too stunned to say anything. The quicker they got out from under Mrs Gallagher’s suspicious gaze, the better.
‘Come on, we don’t want to be late,’ she ordered, picking the gloves out of the box and thrusting them at Millie.
With cries of goodbye and promises not to be late back, they clattered out of the kitchen and up the basement stairs to the street above, laughing as they went. Dan kept close to Millie’s side.
‘We came down on the train early this morning. I gave Walter a sightseeing drive before we met up with Ella,’ he chattered. ‘Got our tickets for the match and transport to Wembley all in.’
Millie was baffled. ‘How did you know where to find us? Did Mam tell you?’
‘Not your mam,’ Dan snorted. ‘She’d not be best pleased if she knew I was here, I reckon. She wouldn’t give me your address, else I would have written.’ Then he grinned. ‘No, it was Ella told us. Sent a telegram. Said it would be a canny birthday treat if we all met up.’
Millie stared at Ella, but her friend merely shrugged. ‘Well, I wanted to make up for the mess I got you in, and I was sick of you moping around. I thought Dan was likely to be coming down for the match anyway, so what was the harm in it? I got him to ring through on old Queen Mary’s telephone.’ Ella giggled at her own audacity, then turned and hurried ahead with Walter, engaging him in conversation as they made for the shelter of a trolley-bus.
Millie gaped at her friend’s forwardness, and then embarrassment flooded over her at the thought of what Ella must have said to persuade Dan to come to London.
She dropped her head, wishing the ground could swallow her up. ‘What you must think of me ...’
Dan slipped her arm through his. ‘I think a lot of you,’ he insisted. ‘It’s me who’s been worrying what you must think of me. I feel that bad at the way I treated you. As if it mattered about your family. None of it was your fault and I don’t blame you for wanting to cover up about your brother and that.’
Millie stiffened. Dan squeezed her arm. ‘Sorry. I’ll not mention it again. Let bygones be bygones, I always say. Will you forgive me, Millie?’
She lifted her head and met his intense blue gaze, her insides melting at the look he gave her.
‘Of course I will,’ she answered hoarsely.
Dan’s face broke into a smile, his cheeks dimpling in that way that made her pulse race faster.
‘Champion!’ he said. ‘I was that chuffed when I heard from Ella. And here we are together again just like before. By, you’re looking grand, Millie. All I need is for Newcastle to win today and I’ll die a happy man!’
Millie laughed as they raced for the bus, from where Ella was gesticulating.
‘Don’t die yet, Dan,’ Millie teased him. ‘Not on me birthday anyway.’
He kissed her cheek. ‘By, I’ve missed you, Millie.’
‘Really?’ Millie flushed.
‘Aye,’ Dan insisted, ‘I should never have let you run off like you did.’
They jumped aboard, laughing, and clung on as the crowded bus trundled them north through the city. Millie caught a wink from Ella and smiled back conspiratorially. She had a strong feeling that today was going to be a momentous one for them all.
Chapter Eight
By the time they reached the newly built Empire Stadium at Wembley, Millie’s excitement was soaring. She could not believe the size or enthusiasm of the crowds, bedecked in black and white scarves and hats, waving banners amid a cacophony of blaring bugles, rattles and bells. The din was so loud that she had to shout close into Dan’s ear to make herself heard. She was overjoyed to hear so many familiar accents and felt a mixture of pride and homesickness to be a part of the excited throng.
‘There can’t be a Geordie left up north!’ she cried, as they were jostled good-naturedly among the stream of supporters on the way to the ground.
Dan gripped her hand. ‘Stay close,’ he grinned. ‘I don’t want to lose you now.’
Millie smiled broadly, thrilling at his words. She could tell how excited he was by the whole occasion. The four of them had stopped at a cafe on the way and Dan had treated them to steak and kidney pie. Afterwards he had talked animatedly with anyone in the milling crowd who walked by, exchanging comments about the team and throwing out predictions. There was a rumour that goalkeeper Mutch was out because of injury and the older Bradley would replace him. But Dan was undaunted.
‘We’ll win by a goal,’ he declared confidently to two men from Byker. ‘McDonald or Seymour will score the winner.’
One man shook his head. ‘Na. Not with our best goalie injur
ed.’
‘Bradley will do the business,’ Dan said confidently.
‘He’s an old man,’ his companion answered, spitting into the road.
‘We’ve got experience over youth.’ Dan was optimistic.
The arguments and banter continued until they got into the ground and attempted to find a good vantage point among the thousands of eager watchers. Millie stared in awe at the vastness of the amphitheatre, while Dan shouted at a man in front to put down his large black and white umbrella, despite the rain. Although not small, Millie resigned herself to not being able to see much on the pitch, so dense was the crowd. She felt Ella clutch her arm in excitement just as the teams came out and a roar went up around the ground. As the band played and royalty came to shake the hands of the players, Millie craned for a view.
Suddenly Dan seized her by the waist and hauled her up. ‘It’s the Prince of Wales!’ she reported to Ella, exhilarated by Dan’s hold. ‘What a canny dresser.’
‘Give me a lift up, Walter man,’ Ella ordered impatiently. With only the slightest hesitation, Dan’s bashful brother did as he was told.
The game got underway and Millie was soon caught up in the drama, cheering with the rest of them and forgetting about the rain seeping through her thin coat and dripping off the ribbons of her new hat and down her neck. She revelled in the freedom that she and Ella were experiencing on their day out with these attractive men, with no one to fuss over them or criticise. Millie felt grown-up and full of anticipation at what more the day might bring. Torn between watching Dan’s animated face and the game, she listened enthralled to his lively commentary, his urgings and advice to the players, his cries of disbelief as favourites Villa twice slammed in shots that hit the crossbar.
‘Haway, Hudspeth, and wake up your defence!’ he yelled. Around them the crowd groaned and swayed during the first few frantic minutes as the Midlands team came at Newcastle and looked likely to score. Then cheers of relief rang round as goalkeeper Bill Bradley made one thrilling save after another. From her partial view, Millie thought Aston Villa looked younger and faster, and she cringed inwardly to think how a defeat would dampen this special day out. It must not happen, she prayed, as she shouted herself hoarse in support.
But by half time, Newcastle had hung on and neither side had scored.
‘By, that was a thumping tackle from Mooney,’ Dan said to Walter.
‘Aye, he’s a hard lad,’ Walter agreed. ‘Canny defender.’
‘And Bradley’s been brilliant in goal,’ Dan enthused. ‘Didn’t I say he would be?’
They argued about tactics. ‘They’re too defensive,’ said Dan. ‘They want to bring their wingers back into the game, see some goals scored.’
‘There speaks a forward,’ Walter joked.
As they debated, Ella leaned towards Millie and whispered, ‘Aren’t you glad the lads came down?’
Millie nodded and nudged playfully. ‘I see you and Walter are getting along canny.’
Ella beamed. ‘He’s a real gentleman. Not like them down here that we have to work for and call themselves gents.’
‘So you prefer him to American footmen, then?’ Millie teased.
‘Any footmen,’ Ella confided. ‘I’ve decided, Walter Nixon’s the man for me.’
Millie laughed and rolled her eyes skywards. She had heard such talk before from Ella. ‘Better claim him before Ava does,’ she warned.
‘I’ve already found out he’s not courting her any more.’ Ella smiled. ‘Not since she showed you up in public.’
Millie wanted to ask her more, but the second half was starting. She had a sudden lurch of uncertainty. What if Ava had become more friendly with Dan over the months instead? She slid a look at him, but his attention was fixed on the action, totally absorbed by the game.
The second half began; the atmosphere grew tauter and the noise more deafening as gradually Newcastle began to gain the upper hand. There were several attempts on goal that raised the hopes of all around.
‘Low’s got it!’ Dan cried. Then, ‘Ow! Just wide!’ he groaned in disbelief. Millie saw every emotion flicker across his face and she knew that he was wishing himself on the pitch. She could read the desire in his face. The ambition within him was almost palpable. To be there, playing in the FA Cup Final in a black and white strip was the ultimate dream of thousands like him. But the difference, Millie knew, was that Dan believed he could get there. He exuded a belief in himself and his talents that made her feel heady just standing next to him. She knew she was hopelessly attracted to him, whatever he felt about her. It was not just his looks and sense of fun, but the vitality and ambition that stirred restlessly within him. Watching his passionate expression, Millie knew she was also in love with the idea of the man he could become – the famous footballer he wished to be. In that moment she realised that she yearned for his success as much as he did himself, and wanted to be a part of it. Nothing in her life had ever been as exciting as being in Dan Nixon’s company, and she held on to his arm to convince herself he was real.
‘There’ll be extra time,’ Walter shouted, as the match drew towards its end with still no goal conceded by either team.
As he spoke, a movement began down the line that started the crowd roaring like a great wave crashing towards the cliffs.
‘What’s happening?’ Millie demanded, jumping up on tiptoes.
‘Harris passed to Low,’ Dan said breathlessly, ‘now Seymour – oh, he’s lost it! – no, McDonald’s got it! – gan on McDonald!’ he bellowed.
Millie glimpsed the ball firing towards the goal and the Villa goalkeeper leap at full stretch to block it. She surged with the crowd and saw him just clear it with a hand. Everyone gasped. Then someone else rushed forward and banged it over the prostrate keeper into the corner of the net. An almighty cheer went up from the crowd like a clap of thunder.
In the frenzy of celebration, Dan seized Millie in a hug. ‘We’ve scored! We’re going to beat Villa. Pay them back for 1905!’
‘Who was it?’ Walter croaked in excitement, quite hoarse from shouting.
‘I couldn’t see,’ Dan bellowed, ‘might have been Harris.’ But even before the cries of jubilation had time to die down, there was an echoing roar from the opposing fans. Villa were counterattacking. There was less than five minutes to go, and suddenly the Midlanders were threatening the Newcastle goal. Dan clutched his head in disbelief. ‘We’re going to throw it away . . . !’
The shouts of encouragement and warning rang around like a wall of noise as the opposition headed the ball at the net. There was an almighty agonising groan.
‘Have they scored?’ Millie asked, bracing herself for disappointment.
‘No, it’s hit the bar!’ Dan screamed in relief.
Seconds later, Newcastle were surging back up the field.
‘The Scotsman’s got it!’ Dan yelled to Millie, as Jimmy Low ran up the flank. With a long, curling pass, he sent the ball across to Stan Seymour on the left wing.
Millie clung to Dan’s arm in a frenzy of anticipation as she saw the centre forward striding unchecked towards the goal. The crowd sensed the moment almost before it happened. Seymour slammed the winning goal high into the net.
The stadium erupted like a volcano, the din around them quite deafening. Caps flew into the air and bugles blared in victory. Dan turned towards Millie, his face suffused with triumph. He grabbed her to him and kissed her firmly on the mouth. Millie squealed in surprise and delight, holding on to her sodden hat. Over Dan’s shoulder she could see that even Ella was jumping up and down ecstatically. She had never experienced anything like it: the crowds, the noise, the feeling of oneness, the heady scent of victory and now the taste of Dan’s lips on hers. She was elated.
Even her memory of the Armistice was a pale shadow of this scene of such overwhelming joy and relief. But then for Millie the end of the war had been poisoned with sadness at knowing her brother would never return, and the shame of not being able to celebrate with the re
st of the village.
She felt no such restraint now, as the jubilant crowd began to sing ‘The Blaydon Races’. Millie joined in with the rest, tears of happiness on her face as the game came to an exultant finish. They stood there singing and clapping and cheering their heroes for an age, no one wanting the magical moment to end.
Eventually Dan turned to her. ‘Millie, you’re crying,’ he said in astonishment, brushing tears from her cheeks.
Millie laughed. ‘I’m that happy. My best birthday ever.’
Dan hugged her to him, overcome with joy at the result and feeling suddenly closer to Millie than he had ever imagined possible. ‘Give us another kiss!’ he demanded, and planted one roundly on her lips. He felt drunk with happiness at the cup win, and a sudden desire for the girl in his arms. He had missed her these past months, his disappointment at her slipping away to London without seeing him fuelled by Teresa’s refusal to tell him where Millie was working. Although there had been other girls like Ava showing interest in him, he had done little courting and spent spare moments, when he was not down the pit, playing football. For a long time his mother’s death had dampened his spirits and he had kept to himself, often thinking of the promise he had made her to look after Millie. So he had been instantly intrigued by Ella’s urgent telegram asking him to come down and take Millie out for her birthday. It was even more satisfying knowing he had managed to do so despite Teresa’s obstructiveness. Now it seemed that Millie had been thinking of him as much as he had of her all this time. At this moment there was no girl so sweetly desirable as Millie.
Finally, after presentations and ovations, the crowds began to move and the stadium to empty, people spilling into the surrounding streets intent on celebration. Somehow Dan and Millie became separated from the other two in the crush of bodies.
‘They can look after themselves,’ Dan assured her, unconcerned. ‘The train doesn’t go for two hours; we’ll do a spot of celebrating, eh?’ He pulled her onto a crowded bus and set off back into central London.
Millie revelled in having Dan to herself. They went for a meal in a cafe that Dan knew from his time in London. Yet he was dismissive of his time spent in the capital.
THE TYNESIDE SAGAS: Box set of three dramatic and emotional stories: A Handful of Stars, Chasing the Dream and For Love & Glory Page 55
