When We Danced at the End of the Pier

by Sandy Taylor

  Me and Nelson and Monica would hang around outside the cinema until Jack came out, then the four of us would go down to the beach. We’d sit with our backs to the wall and wait for him to tell us all about the film he’d just seen. Jack was good at telling stories. I’d close my eyes and listen to the sea tumbling the pebbles, as he brought the film to life. Nelson liked it best when Jack was describing Western films starring John Wayne or Gary Cooper. Afterwards they would run around the beach shooting each other, diving behind rocks and pretending to be cowboys. I didn’t mind what film he had seen, I just liked listening to Jack’s voice – I could have listened to his voice all day.

  Once, Jack gave me and Monica the money to go and see John Sawyer at the Duke of York cinema. The cinema was beautiful inside. The walls were orange and pink and grey and the seats were red velvet. Me and Monica had never been anywhere like it in the whole of our lives. Daddy said that the Duke of York cinema was like sitting in the middle of a giant womb. I didn’t ask to him explain because I had a horrible feeling it had something to do with the willy thing and I was confused enough as it was. Most of the men lit up fags and the smoke drifted in swirls and loops through the beam of light coming from the film projector way above us. Me and Monica held hands as we watched John and his friends witness a murder late at night in a dark creepy graveyard, then run away to an island on the Mississippi River. We laughed when they came home and attended their own funeral because everyone thought they had drowned. When we came out of the cinema the boys were waiting for us: it was our turn to tell the story.

  The four of us were the best of friends; we went everywhere together. We swam in the icy sea, we balanced on the wooden groyne and we shared chips out of newspaper. One day I asked Monica if she would marry Nelson when she was older.

  ‘I’m not going to marry anyone,’ she said.

  ‘Of course you are.’

  ‘No, I’m not.’

  ‘What then? Don’t you want kids?’

  ‘Why would I want kids?’

  ‘Well, most people do.’

  ‘Yeah, well, I’m not most people.’

  Well, that blew my cosy vision of all of us living together out of the water.

  ‘I don’t mind going out with boys though,’ she added, grinning.

  ‘Thank gawd for that,’ I said. ‘I thought for a minute you were thinking of becoming a nun.’

  Monica looked at me as if I had three heads.

  Twelve

  When Jack was eleven he passed an exam to go to the boys’ grammar school. His mother acted as if she’d just been told that he was next in line to the throne. One morning she knocked on our front door. She had never come round to our house before and she’d lived next door to us for two years. Me and Brenda ran to open the door. She was standing there with this strange look on her face; she was smiling but it looked like the effort was killing her. Jack had stayed at the gate; he was wearing his new grammar school uniform. I grinned at him and he raised his eyes up to the heavens.

  ‘Who is it?’ called Mum.

  ‘It’s Mrs Forrest,’ I called back.

  Mum came to the door, wiping her hands on a tea towel. ‘Do come in, Mrs Forrest,’ she said.

  She came into the hall then turned round. ‘Come on, Jack,’ she called.

  Mum brought her into the front room and she sat on the edge of our chair as if it was contaminated. Jack stood behind her, looking as if he wanted the ground to swallow him up.

  ‘Now, what can I do for you?’ said Mum, smiling.

  ‘I’m so sorry to bother you, Mrs O’Connell,’ she said, ‘but I wondered if you had change for sixpence.’

  Of course we all knew why she had come round, it was to show off Jack in his new uniform. Poor Jack didn’t know what to do with himself. I smiled at him to let him know that I knew how he was feeling and he grinned back at me. He was wearing a maroon blazer edged in grey and a maroon cap with grey stripes. I thought that he looked very handsome but I could tell by the look on his face that he felt like a right lemon.

  Mum went into the kitchen and came back with her purse. ‘Change for sixpence, you say?’

  ‘What?’ said Jack’s mum.

  ‘You said you wanted change for sixpence.’

  ‘Oh… Oh yes,’ stuttered Jack’s mum.

  ‘For the tram, is it?’ said Mum.

  ‘The tram?’

  ‘Do you want change for the tram?’

  ‘That’s right. Change for the tram.’

  Jack was making faces behind his mum’s back and I was trying not to laugh because I was facing her.

  We sat there in silence. No one had mentioned the new uniform, so eventually Jack’s mum got up and said, ‘Well, we had better get going, we don’t want Jack to be late on his first day at the grammar school, do we?’

  Me and mum smiled politely as if she’d said, ‘We don’t want Jack to be late for his first day down the mines.’

  After she’d gone we all burst out laughing. Mum put on a posh voice and said, ‘We don’t want Jack to be late on his first day at the grammar school, do we?’

  We had tears rolling down our faces.

  ‘It’s not Jack’s fault though, is it, Mum?’ I said, drying my eyes on my sleeve.

  ‘No, love, it’s not Jack’s fault and I thought that he looked very handsome in his new uniform.’

  ‘So did I.’

  ‘I wasn’t going to tell her that though,’ said Mum.

  The only thing that worried me about Jack going to the grammar school was that he might make new friends and not want to play with us any more. That didn’t happen though, even though I’m sure his mum would have liked him to. The only thing that changed was that he had loads of homework and he wasn’t allowed out until he’d finished it. Me and Monica and Nelson used to sit in the tree and Jack would wave to us out of his bedroom window. I felt sorry for him, especially on those long summer evenings when everyone was outside playing and he was stuck inside doing bloody homework.

  I liked it when the four of us were together but I liked it best when it was just me and Jack. We would sit on my back step and talk – well, mostly Jack talked and I listened. One day he said, ‘When I grow up, I’m going to fly a plane just like Amy Johnson.’

  ‘Who’s Amy Johnson?’

  ‘She’s the woman who flew to Australia all on her own. Don’t tell me you haven’t heard of her?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘She flew from England to Australia single-handed and if a woman can do it, then so can I.’

  ‘What do you mean, if a woman can do it, so can you?’

  ‘Well, women aren’t as strong as men, are they? So if a woman can do it, so can a man.’

  ‘Well, that’s where you’re wrong, clever dick.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Men can’t have babies, can they?’

  ‘OK, you’ve got me there.’

  ‘So when you grow up, you’re going to fly planes?’

  ‘Just as a hobby. I’m going to be a doctor.’

  ‘I thought only posh people could be doctors.’

  ‘Anyone can be a doctor if they study hard enough.’

  I’d seen a Panel doctor once; you had to pay to see a proper one and we didn’t have the money. Brenda had to go into a charity hospital when they thought she had the scarlet fever; as it turned out, it was the measles. Daddy didn’t want her to go there because he said once you went in there you never came out. Mum said that was rubbish but he stayed outside the building for days until they let her out. Mum had said that Daddy was bonkers but I thought he was a hero. I always knew that my daddy would watch over us wherever we were. While Brenda was in the hospital the people in Carlton Hill did a collection for her, even though they were all skint. They bought her a mother-of-pearl rosary which she still has. I never knew any doctors and I never knew a kid that wanted to be one, but if Jack was going to be a doctor, that meant that I was going to be a doctor’s wife. Bloody hell!

  �
�What do you want to be when you grow up?’ said Jack.

  Golly, I’d never given it any thought and now that I knew that Jack was going to be a doctor I didn’t know what to say to him. I didn’t think that I was clever enough to work in a shop and I didn’t want to clean for the rich ladies, but I didn’t want to say that maybe I could work in a factory.

  ‘You’re clever, Maureen,’ he said.

  ‘I’m not clever like you.’

  ‘I think you are.’

  ‘Really?’

  Jack nodded. ‘You’re cleverer than most girls I know.’

  I didn’t believe him but I was glad he thought I was clever. ‘Thanks, Jack,’ I said.

  I told Daddy that Jack was going to be a doctor and that I was going to be a doctor’s wife.

  ‘Being a doctor is a fine thing to be,’ he said. ‘It takes a very special kind of person to be a doctor. They have a calling, just like a nun or a priest. Their hands are guided by God.’

  ‘Do you have to have a calling to be a doctor’s wife?’

  ‘I don’t think so, love.’

  ‘Well, that’s a bloody relief!’

  ‘You might have to stop swearing though.’

  ‘I can’t do that, Daddy.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I love the word bloody,’ I said, grinning.

  Thirteen

  We hadn’t seen Nelson for almost a week and we were getting worried about him. At least, me and Monica were getting worried about him, it didn’t seem to be bothering Jack.

  ‘Perhaps we should go and see him,’ I said to Jack.

  ‘No, he’s probably just got a cold or something.’

  ‘He’s had plenty of colds before,’ said Monica, ‘but he still comes out to play.’

  Jack was looking everywhere except at us. ‘He’ll come round when he’s ready.’

  ‘Why can’t we just check on him?’ I demanded.

  Jack went red in the face. ‘Because you can’t, alright?’

  ‘Why not?’ said Monica. ‘What’s the big secret?’

  ‘Why don’t you both mind your own business?’ snapped Jack and he stomped off down the road.

  We caught up with him. ‘You don’t have to shout,’ I said. ‘We’re just worried about him. There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?’

  Jack stopped walking and faced us. ‘Nelson wouldn’t want you to go round to his house, alright?’

  ‘Why not?’ I said.

  I could see that Jack was struggling, that he didn’t know what to say to us. I got the feeling that he was somehow protecting Nelson.

  ‘Look,’ I said, quickly, ‘it doesn’t matter.’

  ‘Doesn’t it?’ said Monica.

  ‘No, it doesn’t,’ I said, glaring at her.

  ‘Oh right, OK. It doesn’t matter, Jack.’

  We walked onto the green that was at the end of our street. There were loads of kids playing on the field. The boys were kicking a ball around and the girls were sitting on the grass. We walked to the far end, away from everyone else, and sat down.

  Me and Monica exchanged looks; we didn’t know what to make of it. Jack was pulling up bits of grass. After what seemed like forever he said, ‘I’ve already been to see him.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell us that in the first place?’ said Monica.

  ‘What’s wrong with him?’ I said.

  ‘I can’t tell you.’

  I was even more worried now. ‘He’ll be alright though, won’t he?’

  ‘He’ll be alright in a few days.’

  I felt like crying. Nelson was my friend but then I realised that I knew very little about him. I didn’t even know where he lived. Nelson didn’t say much, he was a quiet boy, but somehow you missed him. I missed him and I was scared. I could feel my eyes filling with tears. ‘Has someone hurt him?’

  ‘He won’t thank me if I tell you. He’ll tell you himself if he wants to.’

  ‘You’ll look after him though, won’t you, Jack?’

  ‘Of course I will.’

  And I knew that whatever had happened to Nelson, Jack would be there for him.

  * * *

  Another week passed before we saw our friend again. We didn’t say anything about the bruises on his face and his legs, we acted as if they weren’t there but we all tried to be extra kind to him.

  That night in bed I cried into my pillow.

  ‘What’s wrong, Maureen?’ whispered Brenda.

  In See Saw Lane we had a bedroom each but we were so used to being together that Brenda climbed into my bed every night. I liked her being next to me; I liked to feel her warm little body next to mine.

  ‘Why are you crying?’

  ‘Someone hurt Nelson.’

  ‘Who hurt Nelson?’

  ‘His bloody dad.’

  ‘Are you going to tell Daddy?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘You should tell Daddy, Maureen. That’s what you should do.’

  ‘Go to sleep, love,’ I said.

  Brenda put her arms around me. ‘I like Nelson,’ she said.

  I kissed the top of her head. ‘So do I, now go to sleep.’

  Brenda yawned. ‘I think we should light a candle for him next to the dead dog. We could ask the Blessed Virgin Mary if she would be so kind as to kill his bloody dad.’

  ‘I think that’s a great idea, Brenda. We’ll go down the church first thing after school tomorrow.’

  I lay there thinking about Nelson in his brown jumper that had holes in the elbows. I hoped his mum loved him, even if his dad didn’t, that’s what I hoped and I hoped that the Blessed Virgin Mary could see her way clear to causing his dad some grievous bodily harm.

  * * *

  The next day after school me and Brenda headed straight to the church. I loved our little church, I thought it was beautiful. The altar was blue and gold and there was always a candle lit beside the statue of the Virgin Mary and it always smelled of incense, even when the Blessed Sacrament wasn’t there. We dipped our fingers in the holy water that was just inside the door and we made the sign of the cross.

  ‘I don’t think that we should light a candle for two doors down’s dog today, I want the Blessed Virgin Mary to concentrate on Nelson.’

  ‘Are you going to ask her to kill his dad, Maureen?’

  ‘I’m just going to tell her what he did to Nelson and leave her to make up her own mind.’

  Brenda looked worried. ‘She couldn’t help Jesus though, could she? What makes you think she can help Nelson?’

  ‘I don’t think she was supposed to help Jesus, Brenda, because he had to die on the cross to save the sins of the world. Jesus probably told her not to get involved.’

  ‘I’d forgotten that.’

  ‘We just have to send up a silent prayer and appeal for her to intercede.’

  ‘What’s intercede?’

  ‘I’m not sure but Aquinas is always banging on about it.’

  ‘Perhaps she’d take us more seriously if we put a penny in the slot.’

  ‘We haven’t got a penny.’

  ‘Do you think she answers the rich people’s prayers first?’

  ‘No, I don’t. Now close your eyes and appeal.’

  We both knelt down in front of the statue. Dear Blessed Virgin Mary, I said in my head. I know that your son Jesus is all-seeing and all-knowing and if you are as well, then you’ll know that Nelson is a good, kind boy and he doesn’t deserve to be beaten up by his dad…

  ‘I don’t know what to say,’ whispered Brenda.

  ‘Ask her to intercede.’

  ‘Intercede,’ whispered Brenda.

  ‘You have to say more than that, she won’t know what the hell you’re going on about.’

  ‘What shall I say then?’

  ‘Ask the Blessed Virgin Mary to intercede on your behalf. We’re going to be here all day at this rate.’

  I closed my eyes again. ‘Sorry about that, Mary, now, where was I? Oh yes. As you know, Nelson is a good, kind bo
y and—’

  ‘What’s that word again, Maureen?’

  ‘Inter-bloody-cede,’ I hissed.

  ‘It’s not an easy word, is it?’

  ‘This is not an easy situation, Brenda, but we have to appeal to her in the best way we can.’

  Bear with me, Mary, I’m doing my best here but Brenda keeps butting in. Now, I don’t want you worrying about the dead dog today, this is all about my good friend Nelson. What I really want is for someone to bash his dad over the head with a hammer. Now I realise that maybe you don’t go in for murder but I’m hoping you might know someone who does. Perhaps you could have a word with that sinner who was hanging on the cross next to Jesus. You must know each other pretty well by now. I looked up at the statue, she was smiling down at me like she always does. Look, Mary, if you can’t manage the murder bit perhaps you could just amputate his hands so that he can’t punch Nelson any more. Amen.

  Satisfied that I’d done all I could, I sat down and thought about my friend. I thought about his smiley face and his hair that stuck up all over the place and I thought about how different he was to Jack and how the two of them had become friends and why Jack’s mum had even allowed it, given that she was such a bloody snob.

  ‘Shall we go now?’ said Brenda.

  I nodded and we started to walk out of the church. Halfway up the aisle, I stopped.

  ‘What?’ said Brenda.

  ‘I just want to ask the virgin for one more favour.’