by Annie Murray
‘But she must be busy – and how does she know how to do it, anyway?’
‘Oh, you know our mom – she can do anything like that.’ Reggie was looking over his shoulder as he reversed the car. Turning, he pulled out and they roared away. ‘If I don’t take you, I’ll never hear the end of it.’
Melly heard a giggle come from inside her. The speed of the car rushing along and the prospect of a hairdo from Dolly made her feel bubbly and happy.
Reggie glanced at her, then back out of the windscreen, a smile on his face.
‘You all right?’ he said.
She looked at him. She was surprised how all right she felt suddenly, as if at last she was emerging into the light. ‘Yes.’ She said happily. ‘Ta.’
Within minutes of being inside the house, Dolly had led Melly up to the bathroom and had her leaning over the bath, tipping jugs of warm water over her head.
‘There you go, bab. You’ll feel better for a good new head of hair. That’s it – give it a good rub. We’ll do it in the kitchen – I can sweep up easier there.’
To Melly’s surprise, Reggie did not make himself scarce while this women’s business was going on. He made a pot of tea, plonked it on the table and sat watching as Dolly combed out Melly’s hair in between puffs on her Player’s No. 6. The smoke smelt reassuring. It felt like home.
Dolly left the half-burned cigarette in an ashtray on the table, beside a bowl full of blue and pink mesh curlers with hairpins stuck through them. She had slipped her shoes off and Melly saw her neat stockinged feet, with just a hint of bunions appearing, moving round the chair she was sitting on. There was a lingering smell of onions in the kitchen as well as the curling warmth of something simmering on the stove. And there was Reggie watching her. She could feel him looking, all the while Dolly was working her way round her hair.
Melly felt Dolly’s intent brown eyes on her as well, as she stooped, snipping at the ends of her hair. Dolly smelt of cigarettes and scent. Sometimes she put her hand on Melly’s head as she worked. Its warmth was reassuring. Melly relaxed. She couldn’t stop yawning. She felt suddenly safe and warm and loved. She wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep and sleep.
‘Am I keeping you up, bab?’ Another puff on the cigarette. ‘How’s Glad today?’
‘Still coughing a lot,’ Melly said, forcing her eyes to stay open. ‘She’s not been up much yet.’
Dolly stopped cutting, her dark brows pulled into a frown. ‘That’s not like her.’
Donna wandered in with a shy ‘hello’ and stopped to watch, smiling. She had a mysterious, exotic look to her.
‘You’ll look like a glamour queen when she’s finished with you,’ Mo said, passing through and out into the garden.
‘Donna, stir the soup,’ Dolly instructed. ‘Now,’ she said to Melly. ‘I’ve got it cut all neat – so let’s get you looking lovely. We’ll have another cuppa while you set. Donna – kettle.’
She went to work with the curlers, pulling out the ends of Melly’s hair, rolling up to the bottom of her ears and pinning. The pins scraped Melly’s scalp but she kept quiet. Dolly plugged in her hairdryer.
Melly walked out to the car with Reggie, proud of the bouncy swing of her hair. Dolly had sprayed the curled-up ends so that they hung, tacky and stiff to the touch, each side of her face, curling under. She thought it made her look older and rather mysterious. Dolly had also looked down at Melly’s feet in her white sandals and handed her a bottle of cherry red nail varnish. ‘Here you go – put a bit of that on.’
With her red toenails and sassy hair, Melly felt more glamorous than ever in her life before.
‘You look nice,’ Reggie said as he held the car door open for her. ‘Come on – I want to take you somewhere. D’you like jazz? There’s this bloke playing in town tonight – he’s got the same name as you . . .’
Melly had no idea if she liked jazz or not, but she said, ‘Yes.’ At that moment she liked everything and was hungry to like more. She was beginning to feel that she did not mind where she went, so long as she was with Reggie. The quiet, astonishing realization that Reggie liked – more than liked – her was beginning to sink in. She got in the car and drew in a deep, contented breath. Life was opening out. She looked round and beamed at him.
‘D’you go out a lot in Worcester?’ she asked. She wanted to know if he had a girl down there, if she was a stand-in.
‘Now and then.’ He glanced at her. ‘We’re not in Worcester town, you know – Pershore College is miles out in the sticks.’
‘Oh,’ she said. It was hard to imagine.
‘It’s not like Birmingham. It’s very quiet.’
Trying to sound casual: ‘Have you got a girlfriend then, Reggie?’
He shot her a startled look. ‘I dunno,’ he said quietly. ‘Have I?’
She knew what he meant. His words pulsed through her. All she had seen in his eyes – was Reggie really keen on her? Was it her that was being slow to catch on? Her heart thumped. What if she were to let herself . . . An image flashed into her mind of Raimundo Alexander prone on the floor. She knew she would never have been Raimundo’s girlfriend – not really. But he was someone she had cared so much about and become attached to and look what happened . . .
‘There’s another place I’ll take you sometime.’ Reggie started chatting, as if to cover up her silence, her not answering. ‘The Woodman pub – they do good music there, an’ all.’
They parked in a side street off Digbeth. There was a concert on at the Institute, he said. He led her inside and offered her a drink.
‘I’ll have a Dubonnet and lemonade,’ she said, trying to sound worldly and confident. But she was wondering if she had hurt his feelings. Reggie . . . I love Reggie . . . She kept trying it out in her mind, knowing there were all sorts of feelings growing between them and she could hardly keep up and was afraid . . .
Reggie had a pint and they stood in the crush of people. She could hear a band warming up in the dance hall.
‘This is going to be good,’ Reggie said. ‘Drink up – let’s go in.’
The long room was filling up and some people were already dancing even though the band on stage was only warming up. The air was already stifling and full of smoke. Melly liked the place though. It was dark and cosy in a grand, old-fashioned way, a gallery halfway up round the walls, decorated with gilt swags. The band started playing and they were surrounded by people dancing and whooping to the music. Reggie took her arm and pulled her close to the wall at the side.
‘Sorry.’ His mouth was close to her ear. ‘I’m not much of a one for dancing, not with this gammy leg.’
Melly was mainly relieved. She wasn’t sure she was very good at dancing either, though she would not have minded giving it a try. She was drinking in the new experience, the wildly thrashing bodies, the rough smoke in her nostrils, the music going right through her. Her social life had never developed into anything exciting. People kept talking about all the things young people were getting up to these days, but for her, in the nurses’ home it had just meant going out for a drink with other girls or chatting over cocoa in their rooms.
She liked the music, its wild edge. It made her feel adventurous. But above all she liked being here with Reggie. The discovery of this sent a thrill through her.
‘It’s all right,’ she smiled up at him. His vulnerability moved her. She wanted to stay by his side, show that she didn’t mind, that she was proud to be seen with him.
‘This music’s called “New Orleans Revival”.’ Again, he had to speak very close to her and his breath tickled her ear. ‘I never knew about this kind of music ’til I was in the army. One of the lads there was mad about it. Chris Barber, Acker Bilk . . .’
She realized she knew almost nothing about his National Service years.
‘This is him,’ Reggie said later, as a tall man with a fleshy face and dark curling hair began to perform. She watched, fascinated. George Melly, Reggie said. She looked at him and grinned, tapping he
r feet.
‘I’m a Ding Dong Daddy!’ The music was fantastic! And she liked the way the man seemed to be chatting to them with his rich voice, relaxed in the music. She was full of life, full of . . . Standing at the edge of the heaving crowd, she looked at Reggie in wonder, her eyes drinking him in, falling, knowing in a floating way that she was falling and that this time she did not want to stop.
Reggie turned and held her gaze. He reached for her. They stood side by side, hand in hand, swaying to the music and she was twelve again, head over heels with Reggie Morrison. Only it was now – they were barely the same people they had been back then – and yet they were and he was familiar. Reggie . . .
As the next number ended and everyone cheered and clapped, Reggie put his arm round her shoulders, drew her to him and kissed her on the lips.
Fifty
Reggie turned off near Cannon Hill Park and switched off the engine. It was dark outside and quiet, but Melly still seemed to hear the pulse of the music in her head. Their clothes smelt of smoke and both of them were heady from a few drinks. But now that they were out of the heated atmosphere of the Institute where everyone was dancing and kissing, and they had kissed and swayed together, they had suddenly grown shy and had hardly spoken on the way back.
There was an atmosphere between them of someone needing to make the first move. After a few seconds, Reggie turned to her.
‘Melly? Come ’ere.’
She leaned into his arms and his lips met hers again, kissing her hungrily, more forcefully than he had inside the Institute. She kissed him back, eyes closed, holding him close, the way she had embraced him on the bike all those years ago. And it was so different from how it had been with other boys. Now, she was full of tender, longing feelings. She stroked Reggie’s hair, his neck and chest. She felt his caress on her back, then one hand edging round to explore her breast. But it grew uncomfortable in the tight space, as they twisted to face each other. Reggie drew back and let out a sharp sigh.
‘I’ve got to go back tomorrow.’
Melly didn’t say anything.
He turned his head. ‘I don’t want to. Well – I do and I don’t.’ He reached across and gently took her chin between his fingers, tilting her face towards him. ‘I don’t want to go away from you.’ He released her and sat back, smiling. ‘Funny, isn’t it? There you were – all the time.’
She smiled shyly at him.
‘That day I saw you, on the market . . . You dain’t look very happy. But I hadn’t seen you in ages and it was – well, I looked at you and I thought, she’s lovely, she is. It hit me, just like that. I’ve never said this to anyone before – I honestly haven’t – but I love you, Melly.’
Joy coursed through her. She laughed, full of astonished happiness. He loved her!
‘I love you too, Reggie. Did you know I was madly in love with you when I was twelve years old?’
‘No.’ He looked truly surprised.
‘I used to stand there in the yard waiting for you. When you came, my heart’d be going like mad and I stood there trying to look as if I was just, you know, hanging about.’
‘Well, I thought you were just hanging about.’ They laughed.
‘I don’t s’pose you thought about me at all. You seemed like a big grown-up man then. I used to watch you and Wally always messing about with the bike. And I’d stand there and think, just look up, just for a minute – look at me!’
Someone came along the street on the pavement next to them, a young man, walking with fast, purposeful steps. They waited until he had passed into the darkness.
‘You never did look at me, not really. And then that one night, you took me off on the bike and I thought all my dreams had come true.’
Reggie smiled, then his face sobered and he looked down. ‘That ruddy bike. If it hadn’t been for that . . . It was Wal’s really. He was the one that was really keen. I never want to ride another one in my life.’
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ Melly said.
After a few seconds he said, half teasing, ‘So – have you always been in love with me?’
Yes, she wanted to say.
‘No. Not always. Not when I was two and you were eight and in short trousers! I think I fell for you that day you rescued Tommy – d’you remember? But when I saw you at Wal’s funeral, and after that, I thought you’d never be interested in me. It was as if you’d gone somewhere far away. I could never think what to say to you after it. And anyway, when you all moved away . . . I just thought you’d have a girl – lots of girls.’
‘Some girls’re all right,’ he said. ‘A lot of them take one look at my leg . . .’
‘But what difference does that make?’ she said. ‘You’re just you – you’re working, you’re strong, good looking.’
‘They just see me as a cripple. Like Tommy. But you don’t.’ He looked at her. ‘You’re kind and nice. You always were, Melly. The way you looked after Tommy and stuck up for him.’
Melly was gratified by his praise, but an uncomfortable feeling was nagging at her. If Reggie hadn’t had a bad leg, would he ever have even looked at her? Was that what he was saying?
‘Thing is,’ he went on, ‘it makes you see what’s good and what matters – who matters.’ Gently, he laid his palm against her cheek. ‘You’re lovely, Melly.’ Humbly, he added, ‘Will you be my girl?’
She felt a moment of resistance after what he had said about his leg. ‘But you’re going away. I don’t even know when I’ll see you again.’
‘Course you’ll see me,’ he said. ‘It’s not all that far away and I’ve got the car, thanks to Dad. He got it for me because of my leg – and Mom said I’d never come home otherwise. I can come over . . . Thing is, Melly, why wait? I’m going to be thirty in a few years. I want to get married, have a wife and kids. I don’t want to spend my life on my own, like some sad old cripple. I want you, Melly – I want to be with you.’
Melly felt a rushing sensation, as if she had been scooped up abruptly by a speeding train and carried along through life so fast she could hardly see the scenery. And yet what he was saying, the way he spoke that made her feel so loved and wanted; all that he was trying to rush her into – safety and family and children – were these not all things she yearned for? She felt washed in happiness and excitement. Her own mind raced forward. What if she and Reggie got married? She would have Dolly as her mother-in-law and Mo and Donna and the others and that lovely big house to visit – live in even. It would be paradise!
‘Oh!’ she said. ‘Reggie – I love you. I do. But slow down a bit. You’re making my head spin!’
‘All I’m saying is –’ he sounded deeply earnest – ‘life’s short. You can go –’ he snapped his fingers – ‘like that. Any minute. There was this bloke I saw, when I was in Germany. It’d snowed and he was on the roof, just across from us, knocking the snow off. One minute he was up there, sweeping – the next he was on the ground with his neck broken.’
‘And Wally,’ she said, thinking, and Raimundo Alexander. The thought wrung her heart. Reggie was right. They should live while they had life. They should get married – now, tomorrow, before it was too late.
‘Once I’ve finished college I can get a good job,’ he said. ‘But we don’t need to wait. We could get married before I’ve finished. We could find a way . . .’
‘Reggie, slow down a bit,’ she teased him. ‘This is the first time we’ve ever been out together!’ But even as she said it, she was glowing inside. Everything was happening so fast, but wasn’t Reggie, Reggie loving her, all she’d ever dreamt of? And didn’t she love him too? She did – of course she did!
‘Come on.’ He turned the key and the car roared into action again. ‘I’ll take you home. We can tell them.’
‘Who?’ she said, startled.
‘Your mom and dad – who else?’
‘Reggie, no! Not yet.’ Laughing, she put a hand on his arm. ‘This is crazy! Just let me get used to things. We can’t get married, just like that
! Why’re you in such a rush?’
‘But – I love you!’ He spoke with fervour. ‘I want you, Melly. I want us to have a home together, be Mr and Mrs Morrison – you know, all the things people do.’
She looked into his face, with its longing eyes. He leaned to her and kissed her on each cheek. ‘I love you. God – I love you, Melly.’
‘All right,’ she said, touched by him. ‘But don’t say anything – not yet. I haven’t even said I’m going to marry you. This is all too fast!’
‘Sorry.’ He looked abashed. ‘Sorry, Melly. Only sometimes when you know something’s right . . . I knew when I saw you that day. It hit me. It was like coming home, just the sight of your little face there in the Rag Market. You’re my girl – that’s all there is to it.’
And she smiled back at him, caught up and swept along by the miraculous whirlwind of his feelings and hers together.
Melly managed to persuade Reggie not to say anything to anyone, not for a while. They said tender goodbyes when he reached their house, kissing and holding each other in the car until she said she really had better go in.
‘I’ll have Mom after me. It’s already well gone eleven,’ she said.
‘I’ll be over soon,’ Reggie said. He kissed her again. ‘God,’ he said, ‘I love you, wench.’
Standing in the street between the lamps, she watched him drive away. She was brimful of happiness, the imprint of his love on her lips, her cheeks. She hugged herself. Reggie – Reggie! – loved her. And she loved him.
But it was like a dream, everything moving so fast that she was confused, needing to catch up. His hurry and desperation gave her a nagging sense of unease which puzzled her. Hadn’t she always loved Reggie? Wasn’t it what she wanted, in the end, a husband and children to love and who would love her back, the way Reggie had realized that was what he needed?
She shook her head as if to organize her thoughts and walked to the door. She found herself feeling relieved that Reggie had gone away. This was confusing, given the fact that since the moment he left she had been longing for him to come back. I’ll sleep on it, she thought. Maybe things will make more sense in the morning.
