by Joan Jonker
Laura had turned the corner of the street when Cynthia caught up with her. ‘It’s daft to fall out over a feller, kid, there’s none of them worth it.’ She linked her arm through her friend’s and pulled her close. ‘Let’s forget it, eh? I’ll tell Jeff ye’re courting strong and that’s the end of the matter. You and me are still best mates, aren’t we?’
‘Yeah, of course we are.’ Laura gave a sigh of relief. Being allowed to stay out until eleven meant she could go to places that were out of bounds to her before, and she’d set her heart on going dancing. But she didn’t fancy doing it on her own. ‘How about going somewhere exciting on Saturday?’
‘Such as where?’
‘I’d like to go dancing. Some of the girls in work go, and they don’t half enjoy themselves. There’s two or three dance halls not that far from here – a couple of stops on the tram, that’s all. And it’s only a tanner to get in, which includes tea and biscuits.’
‘I can’t dance for toffee, and neither can you!’
‘There’s a first time for everything, kiddo, and if we never try we’ll never learn.’ Laura’s voice was filled with excitement. ‘We can watch for a while, then have a go ourselves.’ She chuckled as she squeezed her friend’s arm. ‘You can be the man.’
‘How soft you are! You look more like a man than I do.’ But Laura’s excitement was contagious and Cynthia found herself warming to the idea. ‘Yeah, we’ll give it a whirl, eh? Who knows, we might get two fellers willing to teach us.’
‘That is the general idea,’ Laura said. ‘The fellers will be older than the kids we’ve been hanging about with. I don’t know about you, but I’m hoping for someone who is tall, blond and as handsome as a film star.’
‘I want mine to have something more than that, kid. I want a man with loads of money who isn’t too mean to spend it. Someone who’ll show me a good time and take me places.’
‘Yeah, me too.’ Laura fished a silver sixpence out of her pocket as they neared the Atlas. ‘I won’t see yer tomorrow night, with yer meeting Larry, but I’ll call the next night and we can talk about what we’ll wear and how we’ll do our hair.’ She held out her hand for Cynthia’s money and passed the two sixpences to the girl in the ticket kiosk. ‘Two fourpenny ones, please.’ As they entered the darkness of the cinema, she handed Cynthia’s change over and whispered, ‘I can’t wait for Saturday to come, me tummy’s turning over now, I’m that excited.’
They weren’t to know that many tears would be shed before Saturday.
When Laura parted from Cynthia outside her house, there was a spring in her step as she carried on up the street. Oh boy, what a lot she had to look forward to. But she’d need some new clobber if she was to go dancing, especially silver dance shoes. Even if she couldn’t dance, at least she could look the part.
As she neared her front door, she noticed two figures standing outside and the smile dropped from her face. It was their Jenny and Janet’s brother, Bill. He always walked her sister home to make sure she arrived safe, but Laura thought it was stupid. What did they think could happen to her in the five-minute walk from the Porters’ house? It must be his mother’s idea, he certainly wouldn’t do it off his own bat. He’d left school before she did, so he must be going on for seventeen, too old to waste his time on a fourteen-year-old. With his looks he could have any girl he took a shine to. Tall, broad, and not a pimple in sight.
Jenny was putting the key in the lock when Laura stopped in front of them. ‘Hi-ya, Bill! What have you been up to with my kid sister? Me mam will have yer life, keeping her out until this time of night.’
‘Permission for a late pass was requested and granted. Ten thirty yer mam said, and we’re right on the dot.’
‘I get to stay out later, after tonight. It’s me birthday tomorrow, I’m sixteen.’
‘Yes, Jenny told us. I hope yer have a happy birthday.’
Completely ignoring her sister, Laura went on, ‘Me and Cynthia are going dancing on Saturday night and I’m not half looking forward to it. Do you go dancing, Bill?’
Jenny had had enough. Trust her sister to push herself forward and take over. ‘I hate to break this up,’ she said, ‘but I’m going in. Thanks for walking me home, Bill, and I’ll see yer soon. Good night.’
‘I’m going meself now, Jenny. Up early for work tomorrow, and I need me beauty sleep.’ Bill was too wise to walk into Laura’s trap. ‘I’ll bid you good night, Jenny, and you, too, Laura. Sleep well.’ With that he strode away, leaving Laura fuming that he’d given her the brush-off. Raging inside, she pushed Jenny roughly aside and made for the stairs. ‘Tell me mam I’ve gone to bed, I’m tired.’
Using the light from the gas-lamp on the opposite side of the street, Laura began to undress. ‘Who the hell does Bill Porter think he is?’ she snarled as she pulled her dress over her head. ‘God’s gift to women, or something? Well, there are plenty more fish in the sea – and I’m going to start catching them at the weekend.’
Chapter Eleven
Laura came out of the factory gates with a huge grin on her face. In her hand she held the six birthday cards she’d got off the women she worked with, plus a pair of rayon stockings they’d clubbed together to buy for her. She was in a very happy frame of mind, declaring this to be the best birthday she’d ever had. There’d been two cards by her plate when she came down for breakfast, one from her mam and dad, and the other from Jenny, and on the top of them were two half-crowns and a shilling. And then the postman had knocked to deliver four more cards, from her grandad, Cynthia, Mrs Hanley and Mrs Moynihan.
‘I’ll see yer tomorrow, girls, and thanks again for me pressie and cards.’ Laura waved before turning to make her way to the tram stop. She’d only taken a few steps when she heard her name called, and looking across to the pavement opposite, she saw Celia beckoning her. Looking both ways to make sure the coast was clear, she hurried over. ‘This is a surprise. Are yer going somewhere?’
‘No, I’ve been waiting for you. Yer grandad said it’s yer birthday, so I’ve bought yer a little present.’ Celia handed her a small parcel, nicely wrapped in pretty paper and tied with a piece of red ribbon. ‘I hope yer like it, but if yer don’t I can easy change it.’
Laura’s eyes were agog. ‘Ooh, that’s the gear, Celia, ta very much.’ She moved a few steps nearer the gas-lamp. ‘Yer’ve wrapped it proper posh, I must say. I can’t wait to see what’s inside.’
‘Open it and see, unless yer’d rather wait until yer get home.’ Celia knew she was on safe ground saying that. She’d had Laura taped all along, knew she was too greedy to wait until she got home. ‘Please yerself.’
Laura’s mind was working exactly as Celia knew it would. Her mam wouldn’t be very happy about this so she’d better keep it to herself. She could always say the girls in work bought it for her. ‘I’ll open it now, Celia, if yer don’t mind. With you and me mam not really getting on, I don’t think she’d like me taking a present off yer. So if I tell her I got it off me mates in work, yer wouldn’t drop me in it, would yer?’
‘Of course not, we’re mates, aren’t we? It’ll be our little secret.’ Celia was gloating inside. This was the first step in getting her own back on that stuck-up daughter of her husband. ‘I didn’t let on to Joe that I was getting it, so there’s only me knows, and I won’t snitch.’
‘Thanks, Celia.’ Laura tucked the cards under her arm while she untied the ribbon and opened up the paper. Then she let out a shriek, and worries about her mother were forgotten as she lifted a lilac underskirt from the paper. ‘Oh, it’s gorgeous!’ Fingering the white lace that adorned the bodice, she said, ‘It’s just what I wanted. Ye’re a real pal, Celia, and I’ll love yer for ever more.’
‘I’m glad yer like it, kid. And don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. Anyway, I’ll have to scarper now because I left yer grandad’s dinner in the oven on a low light.’ The lie came easily to Celia; she was well versed in the art. There was no dinner in the oven keeping warm, she’d be bu
ying chips from the local chippy on the way home, and if Joe didn’t like it, he could lump it for all she cared. ‘Eh, why don’t yer come down one night and we could have a good chinwag?’ She asked the question casually, as though she’d just thought of it. ‘I enjoyed it last time. It was a change to have someone to talk to.’
‘Ooh, I don’t know.’ Laura looked embarrassed. ‘I got a good telling off.’
‘Forget it then, kid, ’cos I wouldn’t like to get yer into trouble.’
Laura looked down at the underskirt in her hand and felt really mean. ‘I’d like to, I really would. But Grandad would be there and he’d be bound to tell me mam.’
‘Then let’s meet one night and go to the flicks! No one would know the difference then. What the eye don’t see, the heart don’t grieve after.’
Laura felt relieved. ‘Yeah, we could do that, and no one would be any the wiser.’ Then she frowned. ‘But wouldn’t Grandad want to know where yer were going?’
Celia shrugged her shoulders. ‘I’ll tell him I’m going with one of me old girlfriends. He won’t think anything of it because I often go out on me own. What night suits you?’
Laura was in a dilemma. She was hoping to get a click at the dance on Saturday, and with a bit of luck the boy might ask her for a date. Much as she would like to please Celia after her buying such a nice present, a date with a boy was more to her taste. ‘I’m going to a dance with Cynthia on Saturday, and I’ve promised to see her tomorrow so we can discuss what we’re going to wear. But I could go tonight, if it’s not too soon for yer?’
‘Suits me, kiddo! Shall we say half seven at Everton Valley and we can decide then where to go?’
Little knowing she was being drawn into a web of deceit, Laura nodded. ‘I’ll have to put me skates on, but I’ll be there. Ta-ra.’
Celia watched her for a while, then spun around and walked in the opposite direction. She was feeling very pleased her plan had worked so well and had a smug smile on her face. It was a pretty face at first sight, until the beholder looked more closely and saw the hardness and malice in her eyes. Especially now, when she was thinking that in the next half hour, Laura would have told her mother two lies. Those two lies, added to the other things she had planned, would one day be used to shatter Mary Nightingale’s life. And that day couldn’t come soon enough for Celia Steadman.
‘Yer’ve done well, sunshine,’ Mary said, having read the cards and been shown the presents. ‘The underskirt is very pretty, it must have cost a pretty penny.’
‘Ye’re lucky, Laura,’ Jenny said. ‘I wish I had one as nice. Is the girl who bought it a special friend of yours?’
‘I told yer, all the girls clubbed together for me presents,’ Laura snapped, causing Jenny to widen her eyes at the sharp tone. ‘They do it for everyone’s birthday.’
‘There’s no need to bite me head off.’ Jenny picked her knife and fork up and went back to the dinner that had been pushed aside when Laura came in. Why was her sister always so hostile towards her? She sometimes looked as though she didn’t even like her, and Jenny couldn’t understand the reason for it.
Mary’s thoughts were also on her eldest daughter. She could read Laura like a book, and the guilty look in her eyes when Jenny had asked about the underskirt had Mary convinced that she was lying. But why lie? If she’d gone to the shops in her dinner hour, and bought the slip out of her birthday money, why didn’t she just say so?
Stan finished his sausage and mash, wiped the back of his hand across his lips and pushed the plate away. He could sense a cooling in the atmosphere but couldn’t figure out the reason for it. So he tried to lighten the mood. ‘Twelve cards, eh, Laura? None of us have ever had that many before. Yer must be a popular girl, eh?’
The smile returned to Laura’s face. ‘Yeah, they’re lovely, too. I was going to stand some on the sideboard and the mantelpiece, but there’s not much point with the way the room is, they wouldn’t be seen.’
‘If yer don’t want them to get dirty, yer’d be best putting them in yer bedroom,’ Mary told her. ‘Amy and Molly will be here in half an hour, we’re going to wash the paintwork down, ready for Mr Moynihan and yer dad to start on the ceiling tomorrow night.’
‘When are yer getting the wallpaper, Mam?’ Jenny asked. ‘Are yer getting something light and cheerful?’
Mary smiled. ‘Shall I get one with clowns on?’
Jenny giggled. ‘There’s enough clowns in the house as it is.’
Laura gave her a sharp dig. ‘Ay, you speak for yerself. There’s only one clown in this house and she’s sitting right next to me.’
‘Well, it certainly isn’t you!’ Jenny was stung into saying. ‘Clowns are always happy. They laugh and joke and bring smiles to people’s faces. You are a far cry from that. I’ve never seen yer really happy, yer wouldn’t know a joke if it jumped up and hit yer in the face, and a smile from you is a rare sight.’
Laura was stunned into silence, but not for long. She curled her fist, and with her weight behind it, she punched Jenny in her ribs. ‘Who the hell d’yer think ye’re talking to? Don’t come that with me or I’ll give yer a good hiding.’
Stan banged his fist on the table. ‘That’s enough of that! Don’t you ever raise yer hand again in this house, Laura, ’cos I won’t have it.’
Laura’s face was sullen. ‘She started it, so why don’t yer say something to her? Why is it always me what gets picked on?’
‘Perhaps it’s because yer haven’t got a sense of humour,’ Mary said. ‘Yer don’t see the funny side of anything. Jenny didn’t mean you when she talked of clowns – it was just a joke.’
‘Well, I didn’t think it was funny.’
Mary sighed as she pushed her chair back and reached for the plates. Her eldest daughter was hard going, there was no doubt about it. There was just no pleasing her. ‘Forget it, I don’t want to hear another word on the subject. And both of yer put a move on, I want you out of here before Amy and Molly come.’ With the dirty plates in her hand, she looked at Jenny. ‘Are yer going round to Janet’s sunshine?’
‘Yeah, we’ll probably have a game of cards.’
‘And you, Laura, are yer going anywhere special to celebrate yer birthday?’
Laura lowered her head, appearing to concentrate on her clasped hands, where the thumbs were moving around each other in circles. ‘Nowhere exciting, only the pictures with Cynthia.’ The lie told, she raised her eyes. ‘But we’re going dancing on Saturday and I’m not half looking forward to that.’
Jenny saw her mother’s shoulders slump as she walked into the kitchen. So for her sake, she tried once more with Laura. ‘Which dance hall are yer going to?’
‘I haven’t got a clue,’ Laura said airily, springing to her feet. She pushed her chair back under the table before bending down and whispering in Jenny’s ear, ‘And if I did, I wouldn’t tell yer, smarty pants.’
With a shrug of her shoulders, Jenny went into the kitchen to help her mother with the dishes. ‘You wash, Mam, and I’ll dry.’
‘There’s no need, sunshine, I can have them done in no time. You go and get yerself ready to go out.’
‘I’m not bothering to get changed, Mam.’ Jenny didn’t relish the thought of being in the bedroom with her sister because she knew she’d be subject to a load of sarcasm. And it would be a case of standing there and taking it, or answering back and starting a fight. ‘I’m only going to Janet’s and it’s hardly worth it.’
When Laura came downstairs, all dressed up, Jenny took her time putting her coat on so they didn’t leave the house at the same time. When she heard the door bang, she smiled at her mother. ‘Half ten, Mam, is that all right?’
‘Yeah, that’s fine, we should be finished by then. Ta-ra, sunshine.’
‘Ta-ra, Mam, ta-ra, Dad. Don’t work too hard, now.’
Jenny could see her sister further down the street and expected her to stop outside Cynthia’s. But Laura kept on walking and Jenny watched until she’d turned
the corner of the street and was out of sight. ‘What’s she up to now?’ Jenny asked herself softly. ‘She’s a mystery all right, yer can’t believe a word she says. I don’t care what she does, it’s nothing to do with me, but I do care that she upsets me mam with her lies.’
Jenny was so deep in thought, she didn’t see the two figures until they stood in her path. ‘Yer frightened the life out of me, yer daft things.’
‘Yer were talking to yerself, Jenny, and that’s a bad sign, isn’t it, John?’
‘Yes, Mick, it’s a very bad sign.’ John had been walking with his hands deep in his pockets for warmth, but the sight of Jenny was as good as sitting in front of a roaring coal fire. ‘They can cart yer off to the loony bin for it.’
‘I wasn’t talking to meself, I was singing.’ They couldn’t see properly in the dusk, so didn’t see Jenny’s blush of embarrassment. ‘Anyway, what if I was talking to meself? Is there anyone better I can talk to?’
‘Yeah, there’s me,’ said Mick, his white teeth flashing, ‘I’m always available, and yer’ll not get a better pair of listening ears than mine.’
‘Oh yes, she will,’ John chuckled. ‘What about me? I can listen for hours without opening me mouth.’ He put a hand on Jenny’s arm. ‘Don’t ever take first offer, Jenny, always shop around for the best bargain.’
Not to be outdone, Mick put a hand on Jenny’s other arm. ‘Now just be careful yer don’t end up with shopsoiled goods, Jenny. Yer want nothing but the best.’
John took up a boxing stance. ‘Are yer insinuating that I’m shopsoiled, Mick Moynihan? If yer are, I’ll set me mam on yer.’ Realising his mate had the advantage over him now, with a hand still on Jenny’s arm, he quickly relaxed his stance and put his hand where it wanted to be, touching Jenny. ‘Yer heard that, didn’t yer, Miss Nightingale? Will yer be me witness when I take him to court?’
