by Sandy Taylor
‘Maybe he’s jealous.’
‘Maybe.’
‘What do you talk about then?’
‘Him, we talk about him. His music, his dreams, his ambitions.’
I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want to go on about how different it was with Ralph.
‘And I’m not really myself when I’m with him,’ she went on. ‘I’m always frightened of saying the wrong thing, because if I do, then he sulks for days. That’s not good, is it?’
I took a sip of my coffee; I was beginning to understand what she was saying. To be yourself, to make mistakes, even to be unkind, you have to feel loved. You have to know that however you behave that person will forgive you, because they care about you. A bit like your parents, I suppose. Elton’s feelings for Mary weren’t unconditional. They depended on how good she made him feel about himself. As long as she was bolstering his ego everything was fine, but as soon as she needed some attention he lost interest in her. Mary had pretty much answered her own question.
‘When did you last see him?’
‘I don’t know, a week ago, I suppose.’
‘Ralph said he’d see me here this afternoon, maybe Elton will be with him.’
‘I’m tired of playing games, Dottie. I’m almost eighteen for heaven’s sake and I’m still acting like the lovesick girl I was when I was twelve.’
Just then Ralph came into the café, followed by Elton, who had his arm around a pretty dark-haired girl. Ralph sat down next to me and Elton and the girl went up to the counter.
‘She’s just a friend of his, Mary,’ said Ralph. ‘We met her on the way here.’
‘I’ve got to go,’ she said, standing up.
‘Sorry,’ I said to Ralph and I followed Mary out of the door, almost running to keep up with her. We didn’t speak till we got to the seafront. We sat in one of the shelters and stared out over the sea.
‘I’m an idiot, aren’t I?’ she said softly.
I shook my head. ‘Actually I think it’s Elton that’s the idiot, not you.’
‘What the hell do I see in him? I mean, who but an idiot would put up with that? But I do, don’t I? I just put up with it till he decides he wants to go out with me again.’
‘I guess it’s that Achilles heel thing that you were going on about.’
‘Well I’m beginning to think it’s my head that’s weak not my heel.’
Mary’s eyes were full of tears and she was swallowing hard to keep from crying.
‘It’s okay to cry,’ I said.
Mary blinked furiously. ‘I wouldn’t give him the bloody satisfaction,’ she said.
I squeezed her arm. ‘That’s my girl,’ I said.
Later, me and Ralph were sitting on a bench in the park. I took his hand and held it on my lap.
‘Has Elton spoken to you about Mary?’ I asked.
‘In what way?’ said Ralph.
‘Well, does he want to go out with her or doesn’t he?’
Ralph took his hand back and put his arm around my shoulder.
‘You don’t like him much do you?’ he said.
‘It’s not so much that I don’t like him, it’s more to do with not trusting him. If he doesn’t want to be with Mary, why doesn’t he just leave her alone? At least then she might find someone who does want to be with her.’
‘You’d have to know Elton to understand it.’
‘What is there to understand?’
‘He doesn’t like change and he doesn’t like losing people. So even if he sees other girls, he won’t want to let Mary go because he knows how she feels about him. When we were growing up and we fell out with each other, he would always be the first one to say sorry even if the row wasn’t his fault. You say you don’t trust Elton, but the truth is Elton doesn’t trust anyone.’
‘But why? I don’t understand.’
‘It’s to do with his dad dying when he was so young. The only people he cried in front of were me and his mum. He’s devoted to his mum but he’s always worried that he’s going to lose her.’
‘That she’ll die like his dad did?’
‘It’s not only that. She’s had a couple of boyfriends, but Elton kicked up such a fuss that they never worked out. He’s a bit complicated is our Elton.’
‘But he does like Mary, doesn’t he?’
‘Well she’s the only girl he keeps going back to, so he must like her.’
‘But why walk into the cafe with another girl when he knows there’s a chance Mary will be there? That’s just mean, isn’t it?’
‘Elton’s always been a flirt. He picks girls up and then he drops them, it’s what he does. I can’t say I approve of it, but it’s never interfered with our friendship. What it is affecting is you and me because we seem to spend an awful lot of time talking about it.’
‘I know we do. It’s just that when Mary gets hurt and angry so do I.’
‘Well I’m not Elton’s keeper and you’re not Mary’s. Whatever we say or do, it isn't going to change anything is it? Elton will continue being Elton and Mary will continue being hurt, but she's not a child Dottie, she will do exactly what she wants to do whatever you say and however much you worry.’
‘You're right. I know you're right.’
‘So can we concentrate on our relationship and stop worrying about theirs? Because I'm pretty sure they're not worrying about us.’
* * *
True to form, the very next day, Mary and Elton were together again. Elton said sorry about the girl he walked into the cafe with and Mary, of course, forgave him. The four of us started to have fun together. ‘Brainless’ were getting quite a name locally and the three of us went to as many of Elton’s gigs as we could. We went to Eastbourne and Hastings and, once, even as far as Croydon.
That time they were playing in a really nice hotel. Mary and I sat on a red velvet sofa in the foyer while the boys were setting up. We were dressed up to the nines and the people who had paid for tickets to the concert were milling around chatting and smoking and talking about the band. It was exciting being there and being part of the band’s entourage. Mary was perched on the settee and she kept flicking her hair and checking her reflection in the mirror behind us. She pulled a face at me when I laughed at her.
‘Well it looks as if all your dreams are coming true,’ I said.
‘What dreams?’ said Mary as if she didn’t know what I was talking about.
‘Your dreams,’ I said. ‘You know, getting out of the estate and sitting in swanky hotels and going to fabulous places. Isn’t this everything you ever wanted?’
‘It’s some of what I wanted. I wouldn’t call Croydon fabulous,’ she said. ‘It’s not Paris, is it Dottie? It’s not Montmartre.’
‘But one day it could be.’
‘I wish I could be sure of that.’
I tucked my arm through hers and gave it a squeeze. ‘Where’s the old Mary gone, the Mary that used to say: “What’s the point in doing something if you always know how it’s going to turn out?”’
‘When did I say that?’
‘When you were eight.’
‘Sounds as if I was wiser then than I am now.’
‘You were barmier,’ I said, smiling.
One night the four of us went to the fair at Southwick, a town just along the coast. We could hear the music as soon as we got off the train and the sky above the green was a blaze of light, orange and red and gold. As we got closer to the fairground we became part of a crowd of people, most of them our age, everybody all wrapped up in coats and scarves. Everyone was happy, everyone was laughing. There was a buzz in the air and the sugary-pink scent of candyfloss mingling with the frying smell of sausages. We stepped over the tangle of wires on the ground, walked past the noisy generators and the caravans all parked up round the outside with mean-looking dogs chained outside, and into the fair. It was a bright, noisy mix of music and shouting and people, all bumping and jostling and laughing. Ralph held my hand tight and I leaned closer to him. Mary could
hardly contain herself she was so excited, her enthusiasm rubbed off on the rest of us, even Elton. We went on the waltzers, the four of us pressed up tight together as it spun. Mary’s eyes were bright and shining and her cheeks were rosy. She hung onto the handle and screamed with laughter and Elton laughed with her. They were like two kids. And it was nice to see them like that, having fun.
‘Let’s do that again!’ Elton said, but Mary said no. She was so giddy she wobbled on her feet when we climbed off the ride, and had to sit down on the steps for a moment or two with her head on her knees.
I rubbed her back. ‘You okay?’ I asked.
‘I’ve never felt better!’ she said.
Suddenly Elton held out his hand, ‘Come on, Mary, you lightweight!’ he said. ‘Bet you’re not man enough to join me on the bumper cars!’ Mary was on her feet in an instant, running towards him saying she’d show him who was the best driver.
So Mary and Elton went on the bumper cars and Ralph and I watched; it was as if they were on a dance floor, circling one another. I noticed that Elton never took his eyes from Mary’s green car. I saw how he wove amongst the other cars, waiting until he could drive towards Mary’s, and bump her. The electricity flashed and crackled in the grid above them, and I wondered if maybe there was a future for Mary and Elton after all.
* * *
It was the old Mary, the Mary I loved, the feisty little girl who hung upside down on the railings. She was so happy. She wanted to go on everything. We followed in her wake as she ran towards the Switchback. We went on all the rides that evening, ending up on the Ferris wheel. Ralph and I sat cuddled up together in one seat while Elton and Mary were in the seat above us, we could hear her squealing as the wheel took us high above the crowds, it was windy up there and my hair was blowing across my face, I wanted to stop the clocks, I wanted that night to last forever, I was sitting on top of the world with the boy that I loved and my best friend was happy; I was happy too. I was so happy.
Mary’s Diary
Dear Diary,
Last night I did a really stupid thing, I asked Elton if he loved me. How bloody uncool is that? Elton told me not to get soppy. I’m fed up of always necking on park benches and shop doorways and round the back of my house. It’s hard to feel romantic when I’m always freezing bloody cold.
Then he said his mum had joined a bingo club and she would be out of the house every Thursday evening.
Does that mean we are going to do it?
Should I do it, diary?
Tatty bye diary
Love Mary Pickles (about to become a woman)
Aged seventeen.
Chapter Seventeen
Me and Mary were sitting on the swings down the park.
‘You know I said I would tell you when we did it?’ said Mary
‘You’ve done it?’ I screamed. ‘What was it like? When? How?’
‘What do you mean, how?’ said Mary.
‘No I don’t mean how, obviously,’ I said, giggling, ‘but when?’
‘Well we haven’t exactly done it yet but we’re about to.’
‘Really?’
‘Elton’s mum has joined a bingo club.’
I must have looked totally bewildered.
‘Yes, that’s how I reacted when Elton told me. It means the house will be empty every Thursday.’
‘You’re going to do it every Thursday?’
‘Oh for heaven’s sake, Dottie, I don’t know. We haven’t done it once yet.’
‘Are you scared?’
‘I am a bit.’
‘You will be careful, won’t you?’
‘I’m not a complete idiot, Dottie Perks.’
‘You can be, Mary Pickles,’ I said, frowning.
‘The thing is,’ said Mary, ‘I know things have been better between us, but I mean, even when we are together he’s still eyeing up other girls.’
I’d already noticed that but I couldn’t say it to Mary.
‘I have to have some sort of commitment from Elton before I go to art school. If I don’t, I’ll lose him.’
‘I don’t want to put a downer on it, Mary, but it sounds as if it’s something you’ve decided you’ve got to do, not something you want to do.’
‘I have to do it, Dottie.’
‘No, you don't.’
‘Yes, I do.’
‘You might not like it.’
‘If I never try it, I’ll never know,’ she said.
‘Huh?’
‘That’s what my Mum always tells my brothers when they don’t want to eat something.’
‘I can’t imagine your brothers ever not wanting to eat something. They’ll eat anything.’
Mary laughed, and leaned back on the swing, tipping her head back, letting the ends of her hair brush the ground underneath.
‘In a week’s time I probably won’t be a virgin any longer, Dottie. In less than seven days I will have crossed over to the other side, no longer a girl but a woman. And once I’ve crossed over, there will be no going back.’
‘Do you think you’ll feel any different? I mean, do you think you’ll still want to hang around with me once you’re doing it with Elton?’
I was tipped back now as well, mirroring Mary. We were both looking at one another from this weird position.
‘Now you’re the one who’s being stupid,’ she said.
And she smiled an upside-down sort of a smile.
Ralph and I had been going out together for five months by now. Mostly we just went for long walks over the Downs or along the beach. The council had put up some Christmas lights along the seafront, and we liked to walk there in the evenings, watching the lights reflected in the waves that came splashing over the pebbles. Nothing Ralph and I did was particularly exciting when I thought about it, but we both sort of knew without saying anything that it really didn’t matter what we did as long as we were together. The more I got to know Ralph the more I liked him. He was sweet and kind and he made me feel special and safe. I trusted him; that was the thing. I knew he would never lie to me, or say mean things behind my back, or look at another girl any more than I would do anything to hurt him. It was strange at first, being part of a twosome, because the only twosome I had ever been part of was me and Mary Pickles, and yet in another way it didn’t feel strange at all – it just felt right.
‘I wish I’d told you when we were at school,’ said Ralph one evening.
‘Told me what?’ I said.
‘That I liked you.’
‘You sort of did,’ I said, grinning. ‘I’ve always kind of hoped that it was you who sent me a Valentine’s card. Am I right?’
Ralph laughed and squeezed my gloved hand. ‘Quite the little Romeo wasn’t I?’
‘So it was you, then?’
‘Guilty as charged.’
One evening when we were sitting on a bench down beside the lagoon and the moonlight was rippling on the water, and the snow was falling around us, we kissed and it was the sweetest kiss in the whole world and the kiss tasted of spearmint toothpaste and raspberry ice lolly. And something else. Ralph. It tasted of Ralph. The kiss went on forever. It was a grown-up kiss, a beautiful kiss. When the kiss finished, Ralph cupped my face in his hands and said: ‘I love you, Dottie Perks, and I think I’ve wanted to tell you that for the whole of my life.
Me and Ralph had always walked in Mary and Elton's shadows, maybe now the only shadows we would be walking in would be our own.
That Christmas was perfect. Ralph joined my family for Christmas dinner. We played daft childish games that had bored me the year before but seemed hilarious with Ralph there. I gave Ralph a snow globe. It had a little cottage inside and when you shook it the snow fell on the roof and on the hills around it. It was the cottage of my dreams, the sort of cottage that I dreamed Ralph and I would live in one day. Ralph bought me a beautiful silver locket. He hadn’t put a picture inside but he had written ‘I love you’ on a piece of paper instead.
‘I thought you could put your own ph
oto in there,’ said Ralph.
‘I want one of you,’ I said.
‘Madwoman,’ said Ralph, smiling.
‘We can go to one of those booths and get some taken.’
‘There’s one on the pier,’ said Ralph. ‘We’ll go there if you really want to.’
‘I do,’ I said.
* * *
The four of us saw 1964 in together. We watched the fireworks exploding over the pier, sending sprays of silver and gold into the sea. Passing ships sounded their horns as midnight struck. It was magical. Mary was hanging on to Elton, her hair was blowing across her face and her eyes were shining with excitement. She looked across at me and smiled. It was one of the most loving and tender smiles I had ever known. That smile was to come back to me in the dark days that followed.
Ralph and I saw each other every day during January. He met me straight from work and usually we went to the cafe and sat together making one drink last as long as it could. He told me about his day and I told him about mine and gradually we learned little things about each other and everything I learned about Ralph made me like him more. After that, if the weather was cold, which it usually was, he would walk me home. We held hands, sometimes he put his arm around my shoulder and I liked the feeling of the weight of it; I liked the feeling of having someone care for me in the way that Ralph did, as if I were something precious.
‘Don’t you get bored of just sitting around doing nothing with Ralph?’ Mary asked one day.
‘We’re not doing nothing. We’re talking.’
‘About what?’
‘I don’t know. Nothing.’
Mary rolled her eyes and I laughed and said: ‘Okay, point taken!’
But she didn’t understand and she couldn’t understand how I felt about Ralph. I couldn’t explain how things were changing between us, how I knew, without him having to say or explain, that he felt the same about me as I felt about him.
I had never been able to keep up with Mary, not properly, she was always the leader, but Ralph encouraged me to step forward. He asked me what I thought about things, he seemed to respect my opinion.
