One Day at a Time

by Susan Lewis

  At last it’s my turn. ‘Three pieces of cod, one Clark’s pie, one fishcake and four portions of chips,’ I say to the woman behind the counter.

  ‘Coming up,’ she says,’ and how are you, Eddie? Haven’t seen you in a long time.’

  It takes me by surprise to realise it’s Rosie Maguire, who used to work down the pottery with Eddress before we were married. I didn’t recognise her in her overall with her hair hidden under a hat and no lipstick – she was always well known for her ruby lips. ‘Oh, I’m not too bad, thanks, Rosie,’ I tell her. ‘What about you?’

  She gives me a wink. ‘Oh, you know, keeping busy,’ she replies, wrapping up the fish. ‘I heard your Susan’s at a posh school now. How’s she getting on?’

  ‘Lovely, thanks. And how are yours?’

  ‘Blighters, the pair of ’em, but I suppose that’s only to be expected at their age.’ She gives a brief look over her shoulder to where her boss is serving the woman behind me, then quickly shovels an extra portion of chips into my order. ‘Here you are,’ she says, putting a big fat parcel next to the till. ‘That’ll be five and six, please, Ed.’

  I hand her a ten-bob note and wait as she starts sorting out the change. ‘Are you going to the dance down Made for Ever tomorrow night?’ she asks, passing me a half-crown and a two-bob bit. ‘I don’t have a partner, if you fancy coming with me. Herb left me back last year.’

  I feel myself starting to go red. I don’t want to embarrass her by turning her down in front of everyone, but I don’t want people thinking I’ve been picked up in the chip shop either. ‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ I say, keeping my voice down.

  ‘Good riddance, is what I say,’ she scoffs.

  I give a jolly little laugh. ‘Well, it was lovely seeing you, Rosie,’ I tell her, grabbing my parcel. ‘Happy Easter,’ and before she can say any more I skedaddle out of there.

  I suppose it’s flattering that she wanted me to take her to the dance, but I’m not going to start giving myself airs and graces over it, because I expect she couldn’t find anyone else.

  Susan

  It’s almost the end of the Easter holidays now. After Bank Holiday Monday Gary and I spent most of the time here, at Gran’s, while Dad went to work. There’s not much to do, except play the games Gary brings with him, or hang around with my cousins Geoffrey and Deborah who live next door. Luckily, there’s a park across the road where we go to spin as fast as we can on the roundabout (which isn’t anywhere near as good as the waltzers), or see if we can go over the top bar on the swings. The swimming baths are next door to the park, but Dad’s banned us from going there without him in case Gary drowns.

  Actually, there hasn’t been as much playing in the park as usual, because it’s hardly stopped raining since Good Friday. It was lucky I went up the shows when I did with our Doreen, or I might not have been able to go at all, and then I wouldn’t have met Mandy Hughes. I’ve been thinking about her a lot since that night, but I haven’t seen her again, in spite of walking around the block a couple of times in case she was out in her garden. There was no sign of anyone either time, so I decided they must have gone on holiday or maybe they were hiding inside away from the police.

  I wish I could just go and call for her, because I think she’s really cool the way she does things I’d love to have the guts to do myself, like going out alone at night. If I could do that I’d be able to run away from school without anyone spotting me. I think I’ll write her a letter when I go back to ask if she’d like to go for a walk or something when I’m next at home on an exeat. I’d invite her round to our house, but I know Dad wouldn’t allow it, which just goes to show how narrow-minded he is. Just because the rest of her family gets into trouble doesn’t mean that she does too.

  Thank goodness it’s stopped raining today. I don’t know what we’d have done if it hadn’t, because Robert’s coming to take us for a ride on his motorbike. (Gary has to be included, but I know Robert’s coming to see me really. He even asked me when we were over Auntie Doreen’s the other night if I was looking forward to seeing him.)

  Gary and I have spent most of the morning sitting on the front doorstep waiting for him to arrive, and now at last he’s here. Gary leaps up in the air with a cheer and I feel relieved that Geoffrey and Deborah’s older sisters are at work, because I know they like Robert and if they saw him they’d be bound to come over and flirt with him, thinking they have more rights than me, just because I’m still at school. Robert doesn’t see me like that, though. He knows I’m much more grown up than everyone else seems to think I am, and treats me as though I’m more or less the same age as him.

  I wonder if he’s still going out with Jenny.

  I won’t bother to ask.

  ‘Hello,’ he laughs as Gary launches himself at him. With a quick wrestle Robert swings Gary up in the air, then buries him under one arm.

  ‘Ow, help, let me out!’ Gary shouts. ‘Gran, he’s got me.’

  That’s the sort of thing Dad shouts when Gary gets him in a headlock.

  ‘And how’s our little beauty queen?’ Robert says to me.

  I really, really love him, and peer at him from under my hair. (I’m trying to do the kind of smile I saw Mandy Hughes do up the fair, but I’m not sure if I’m getting it right.)

  Suddenly he grabs me into a great big hug and blows a giant raspberry on my neck. (I’d have preferred him to kiss me, but I know he can’t in front of Gary, and anyway, Gran’s coming out of the sitting room.)

  ‘There you are,’ Gran says, holding open her arms for Robert to come and give her a kiss, which I think is really nice considering she’s not his real gran.

  ‘Granny Price, you’re looking younger every day,’ he tells her. I know he doesn’t mean it, because she’s the oldest person we know, and is all crinkly and grey, but it makes her chuckle so I can tell she likes it. I wonder if he minds about her whiskers as he plants a smackeroo on her cheek. I never do, they’re a part of Gran, like her bandaged legs and great big pinny.

  Straight away she starts asking about Auntie Doreen and Uncle Alf, and wants to know how Robert’s getting on in his new job. (He’s been taken on as an apprentice in a factory near Wick, but when he’s seventeen he’s going to pass his test and drive the lorries like his dad.)

  After they’ve been talking for a while, Robert says, ‘So who’s coming on the bike first?’

  ‘Me, me, me,’ Gary shouts, jumping up and down.

  I roll my eyes to show that I understand how youngsters don’t have it in them to wait.

  ‘Are you sure Uncle Ed said it was all right?’ Robert asks, as Gary leaps up for a piggyback.

  ‘Just as long as they hold on tight and you don’t go fast,’ Gran tells him. ‘And no further than round the block. I’ll put the kettle on while you’re gone and make a nice cup of tea. Or would you rather have coffee?’

  ‘If it’s Nescaff I’ll have coffee,’ he answers. ‘I’m not all that struck on the Camp stuff.’

  ‘Nor me,’ I say. ‘It’s too sweet.’

  Gran gives me a bit of a look, because she knows I love it really, but she doesn’t split, she only slips an arm round my shoulders as we watch Robert jog Gary out to the motorbike. I imagine what he’ll be like when we’re married and have children of our own. He’ll be a really good dad.

  ‘I reckon they ought to be wearing helmets,’ Gran mumbles as Robert plonks Gary on the back, then sits astride the saddle in front of him.

  ‘Oh no, only spazzos and squares wear helmets,’ I tell her.

  She rolls her eyes, and we wait as Robert makes sure Gary is holding tight before starting slowly down the street. When they turn at the church we give them a wave, but they’re not looking, and then they disappear from view.

  ‘There, that’s cheered you up, seeing your cousin,’ Gran remarks, as she waddles ahead of me into the kitchen. ‘He’s a lovely chap. Now, where’s the matches to light the gas? Go and fetch the teapot from the table, there’s a good girl, and brin
g out the dirty cups.’

  While we’re making the tea – and coffee for Robert (Gary and I aren’t allowed to have Nescaff, because Dad says it’ll overexcite us. Honestly, I wish he’d stop treating me like a baby all the time) – Reggie comes in from the garden.

  ‘What the bloody hell are you doing in here, you dirty old sod?’ Gran shouts at him.

  ‘I came to get a light for me fag,’ he answers.

  ‘Use your own matches.’

  ‘Haven’t got none till I goes up the shop.’

  ‘Here,’ she says, thrusting a box at him, ‘and make sure you replace it when you’ve got your own.’

  I watch Reggie go off with his stub of a roll-up, feeling quite sorry for him, but at the same time I’m glad he’s gone, because his nose is running and his clothes are all muddy and stinky. I wouldn’t want Robert seeing him and thinking one of my relations on Gran’s side is a tramp.

  Robert and Gary seem to be gone for ages. When they eventually come back Gary charges in through the door, his eyes all bright with excitement. ‘It was brilliant, Gran,’ he tells her. ‘We went right up past the church, round past the college and then back down again.’

  ‘I hope you didn’t let go,’ she smiles, ruffling his crew cut.

  ‘No, I didn’t, did I?’ he says to Robert.

  ‘He was a very good boy and an excellent passenger,’ Robert assures us.

  ‘I’m glad to hear it. Do you want your coffee now, or when you come back with our Susan?’

  Robert looks at me and I feel really soft because I start to blush. ‘Up to you,’ he says, giving me a wink.

  I don’t want to wait any longer, but I try to sound cool as I reply, ‘We might as well go now.’

  So he leads the way down the path, and Gran and Gary come to watch me climb on to the back of the bike. It’s higher than I expected, and when I put my legs either side of the saddle my dress rides right up my legs. Embarrassed, I try to pull it down again, but I can’t, because he has to sit in between my knees.

  When he’s on, he turns round and says, ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Yes,’ I tell him, feeling excited and scared. I look at Gran and give her a smile.

  ‘Hold on tight,’ she calls out.

  Even though I’ve seen the way older girls lean back behind their boyfriends and sometimes don’t hold on at all, I do as she says or I know she’ll only worry. Once we’re out of sight, I can do it the proper way. So I circle my arms round Robert’s waist and think it’s a shame we can only go round the block, but it wouldn’t be fair on Gary if we went any further, at least for today.

  After revving up the engine Robert lifts his foot off the ground and we start to move forward. It’s so thrilling and terrifying that I want to laugh out loud.

  ‘All right?’ he shouts.

  ‘Yes,’ I shout back.

  I hope I’m not squeezing him too tight. My cheek is squashed against his back, and my eyes are shut. In a minute I’ll be brave enough to open them. When I do I see the houses passing by, and then we tilt all the way over to the right as we start to turn the corner. I think we’re going to fall, so I hold on more tightly than ever.

  ‘Just lean with the bike,’ he tells me.

  We go past some girls who are walking towards the park. When they see me I feel so proud I could burst.

  We go faster. The wind is blowing my hair, and rushing through my ears. One of Robert’s hands closes around both of mine, as though making sure I keep hold of him.

  I’m so happy I could fly. This is the best thing I’ve ever done in my whole life. It beats the waltzers any day, and the big wheel, and being on telly on Founder’s Day when there were so many of us you couldn’t make anyone out at all. It’s just me and Robert speeding along, holding tight to each other, not thinking about anyone or anything like stupid school, or who wants to be my friend, or why Mummy had to die, or anything bad at all. I want to go on doing this for ever and ever. If anyone sees me they’ll wonder who my really dishy boyfriend is and I won’t even bother to tell them. I imagine us roaring in through the gates at Red Maids and all the girls flocking to the windows to find out who’s coming. By then I’ll be brave enough to sit back in the seat, and every one of them will wish they were me.

  We go past the technical college, up around the corner into Lansdowne Road, and then down into Hilltop. I wish there were more people around, but there are some and I smile as we go by with my cheek still squashed up against Robert’s back.

  Eventually we turn out on to the main road where there’s more traffic, and a bus is going by. We seem to be going faster than ever and I’m loving it. We’re on our way to Gretna Green. We’re going to get married and live in a lovely house and go for rides on the motorbike whenever we like. No one will be able to tell me what to do, except him, if I let him. I don’t think I’ll be an obedient wife, but it won’t matter because he’ll love me anyway the way Dad loved Mum, who never, ever did as she was told.

  Just before the swimming baths we turn right, bringing us back into Church Road. We slow down a bit and by the time we pull up outside Gran’s I’ve managed to let go with one arm. It feels really lush, and I wish we could just carry on, all the way through Soundwell and Kingswood, down Two Mile Hill and into town, but I know Gran won’t allow it.

  ‘There, how was that?’ Robert asks as he holds the bike steady for me to slide off.

  ‘Really fab,’ I tell him, hardly able to catch my breath. I want to give him a kiss to say thank you, but I haven’t got the guts.

  He puts his fingers under my chin and laughs as he looks at me. With a laugh myself I throw my arms around him and say thank you with as much feeling as I can.

  He comes in to drink his coffee and eat the Spam sandwiches Gran cut while we were gone, but he doesn’t stay long, because he’s on his dinner break so he has to get back to work. I walk with him down the path to his bike, loving the way he’s holding my hand.

  ‘Right,’ he says, sitting on, ‘time to be off. Are you going to give us a kiss before I go?’

  I feel my face burn all the way into my hair, but instead of saying no, which I nearly do, I go up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

  ‘Robert! You forgot your gloves,’ comes a yell from the house.’

  Robert looks up and my mouth touches his by accident. I draw back fast, feeling softer than I ever have in my life. He laughs and gives me one of his winks.

  ‘Here you are,’ Gary says, hurtling down the path.

  ‘Good boy,’ Robert tells him. ‘I’d have been looking all over for them.’ He turns on the engine and twists the handle to make it rev. ‘Be seeing you,’ he says, and with a giant roar he speeds off down the street, going ten times faster than he did with me and Gary on the back, but I expect the next time he takes me for a ride we’ll go that fast then.

  I can hardly wait.

  Chapter Ten

  Eddie

  A TERRIBLE THING’S just happened in America. Someone’s only gone and shot Robert Kennedy. The news is still coming in, so I don’t know many details yet, only that he was giving a speech in California when it happened. They’ve rushed him to hospital, apparently, and someone’s been arrested. They’re saying it’s a dark-skinned chap who might be Mexican or Cuban, but no one’s sure yet.

  It makes you wonder what on earth’s going on over there. First the President himself is assassinated, then barely a month ago that marvellous chap Martin Luther King was shot dead, and now this. It’s like the Wild West, by the sound of it. All those guns! They should never be allowed. I’m just glad we’re living in this country. Not that we don’t have our problems, because we do, but when you weigh them up against the madness that seems to go on in America, and all the riots breaking out across the Channel in France, well, it makes you wonder what the world’s coming to. The French students have gone and occupied their university now, and half the country’s on strike so rubbish is piling up in the streets with rats running about all over the place, and normal peopl
e are terrified to go out. It’s all in a good cause, I have to say, but is this really the right way to go about it?

  The only good bit of news is that there’s some serious talk at last about ending the Vietnam War. Twice Albert Pitman and I arranged to join a protest march about that, but I had to back out both times, first because I couldn’t afford the coach fare to London, and then some extra overtime came up at work that I had to take.

  I’m sitting here in my corner of the factory now, writing down what I’ve heard on the news today, and thinking what a relief it is to express myself this way. It cuts across my faults in speech and disguises my ignorance, without forcing me to withhold my opinions and remain silent. It would be hard to get into an exchange with the ruffians around me about the graveness of Robert Kennedy’s shooting, because I know most of them couldn’t give a tinker’s cuss about what’s going on in America. However, to be fair to them, they’re not scoffing at my notebook today, in fact most of them aren’t saying anything at all.

  There’s nothing being broadcast on the wireless about the shooting at the moment, but we’re all waiting for the next announcement and hoping the news will be good and that he’s survived.

  I sometimes wonder how it’s possible to be pleasant and gentle when there’s so much bad in the world, but then I think of our Lord Jesus and it usually helps to unravel the knots.

  I expect someone from management will be around any minute, ordering us back to work. I don’t think anyone’s going to bother though until they do.

  Gary’s too young to understand the gravity of the shooting, but I wonder how they’re breaking it to our Susan and the other girls at Red Maids. It’s a mightily serious situation, what with America becoming such a big power in the world, so I expect they’ll sit the girls down to explain the impact it could have on us all. I don’t suppose I’ve really worked that out myself yet, but I’ll look forward to discussing it with Albert tomorrow night, and of course a lot will depend on whether the poor chap lives or dies.