by Maureen Lee
'He's called Cy for short. That's not so bad, is it? In fact, it sounds a bit American.'
Annie looked grudging. 'I suppose so.'
Cy Quigley - Annie refused even to think of him as Cyril - had short, very black curly hair, and dark eyes which seemed to be laughing all the time. To her intense relief, she quite liked him. It was difficult not to. He had her in stitches in the cinema, making fun of Moses, particularly when he received the Ten Commandments from God.
'Not another one!' he groaned when number six was reached.
The people nearby kept demanding they be quiet, and even Sylvia got annoyed. 'Don't be sacrilegious,' she hissed.
'Fancy doing this again next Saturday, Annie?' Cy asked when they were in Lyons having coffee and he was rolling a cigarette. He'd already smoked twice as many ciggies as there were commandments.
lOI
'I don't mind,' Annie said casually. Inwardly, she was thrilled.
He held her hand on the way to Exchange Station. Annie stiffened when they arrived, hoping he wouldn't kiss her. She wasn't ready for her first kiss just yet. To her relief, he shook hands politely.
'See you next week, then.'
'Have a nice Christmas,' Annie said.
He grinned. 'Same to you.'
Annie watched him cross the road. He stopped and bent his head, cupping his hands around a cigarette as he lit it. She sighed happily.
'Where's Mike.-"' she asked in surprise when she turned to find Sylvia alone and looking rather glum. They walked onto the platform where the Southport train was waiting, doors open.
'Gone!' Sylvia said abruptly. 'Let's get in the last compartment so as to avoid him.'
The girls sat facing each other. The doors closed and the train started. 'I know he's your cousin, Annie,' Sylvia continued in a complaining voice, 'but he bores me silly. He asked me out again, but I refused. I think he's taken umbrage.'
'But I'm seeing Cy next week!' Annie said in consternation.
'I know, I heard,' Sylvia said stiffly.
'I thought we'd be going in a foursome again.'
'You'll just have to go in a twosome, won't you!'
Annie felt terrible. 'We always go out together on Saturdays.'
'Well, next Saturday I'll just have to stay in alone.' Sylvia turned to look out of the window, her face cold.
'Why didn't you say you didn't want to see Mike again?' Annie said reasonably. 'I wouldn't have made another date with Cy.'
'Why didn't you discuss it with me beforehand?'
'In the middle of Lyons! Don't be silly, Sylvia. It would look as if I was asking for your permission or something.'
Sylvia tossed her head and didn't answer. 'Anyroad,' Annie went on, 'the whole thing was your idea. I didn't want any part of it, did I?'
Neither girl spoke for several stations. The train reached Marsh Lane and Annie saw her cousin get off further down the platform. He looked as miserable as she felt as he went through the exit without a backward glance.
She'd never had a row with Sylvia before, and felt all shaky inside, particularly as she couldn't quite understand what she'd done that was so wrong. 'It was you who said we'd both meet a man one day who'd be more important to us than each other,' she said accusingly.
'I meant when we were really old, eighteen or nineteen,' Sylvia said accusingly back.
'I'm getting off in a minute, we're nearly at Seaforth.'
'So?'
'So, I'll see you tomorrow afternoon, shall I.-*'
Sylvia shrugged carelessly. 'If you like.'
The train drew into the station, the doors opened. 'Tara, Sylvia.'
'Goodbye, Annie.'
Annie's legs nearly gave way when she stepped onto the platform. Her friendship with Sylvia had come to an end, she thought tragically. There was no way she'd go to the Grand tomorrow, although it had come to feel like home and she was dead fond of Cecy and Bruno.
The guard had blown his whistle and the doors were whirring as if they were about to close, when a figure launched itself out of the train and half fell beside her.
'Oh, Annie!' Sylvia cried. 'What a truly horrible person I am! I'm jealous, that's all. You had such a lovely time with Cyril . . .'
'Cy.''
'Cy, and I was so miserable with Mike. Will you ever forgive me.'''
'I thought we weren't going to be friends any more,' Annie said in a small voice.
'Just as if!' Sylvia linked Annie's arm affectionately.
'I'll ask Mike for Cy's address and cancel the date,' Annie offered.
But Sylvia pooh-poohed the offer vehemently. 'I wouldn't dream of such a thing. I hope you have a lovely time on Saturday. Just spare a thought for me occasionally, listening to records in my lonely room . . .'
8
'Well, Annie, what did you think?' Mr Andrews' eyes blinked nervously, as if he would be devastated if she hadn't liked his play. It was the first day back at school, and Annie had stayed after the English lesson.
She coughed importantly. 'I think it's very good. Me sister read it and she really liked it, too.' Marie had been so impressed, both with the play and the pantomime, that she couldn't wait to join the drama group when she reached her final year. She'd decided she would hke to be a proper actress when she grew up.
Mr Andrews looked relieved. 'What about playing Goldilocks?'
'I dunno.' Annie wriggled uncomfortably.
'I'll be vastly disappointed if you don't give it a try. In fact, I might give up without you. You're the only one I can see in the part.'
He was so nice she didn't like to let him down. 'I mightn't be any good. I've never acted before.'
'All of us are acting all the time,' he said enigmatically.
'I'll give it a try, then.'
'Good girl!' he said delightedly. 'In that case, keep this copy and start learning your lines. I'll cast the rest of the parts on Monday.'
Perhaps she'd known deep down she would play Goldilocks, because, with Marie's help, Annie already knew the lines off by heart.
'I hardly ever see you,' Sylvia complained on the way home from school. 'You go out with Cyril -1 mean Cy -every week, and tonight you're staying in again. We always go to the youth club on Wednesdays.'
'I've only been out with Cy three times, and I changed it to Friday last week, didn't I, so I could see you on Saturday.'
Sylvia said petulantly. 'You've been really funny all week, just because he kissed you.'
'It was only a peck on the cheek.' She felt a little thrill every time she thought about it.
'I think it's getting serious.'
'Don't be silly!'
'Promise you won't go to that club. The Cavern, with him. It's our own special place. I'd be upset if you shared it with Cyril.'
'Cy! I promise. I don't think it's his cup of tea.' The girls had gone to the new club last week, the night it opened. The queue snaked right round the block and they'd been almost the last to be allowed in. Down a narrow street of old warehouses in the centre of Liverpool, the rough basement with its bare brick walls and foot-tapping music had made them feel very cosmopo-htan and sophisticated. Ever since, they'd sung 'When
The Saints Go Marching In' as they went through the gates to school.
'Anyway,' said Sylvia, returning to the matter in hand, 'why can't you go to the club tonight?'
Annie sighed, 'I don't like leaving our Marie. She's dead upset over losing the baby.'
'It's taken her long enough to find out.'
'She's been upset all along. I didn't know how bad until recently.'
Sylvia snorted derisively. 'If I remember rightly, she didn't lose the baby. It was taken from her at great expense.'
'Oh, Sylvia! What a horrible thing to say!'
'It's not your job to act as a social worker to your sister, Annie,' Sylvia said with an irritating air of self-righteousness.
'Then whose job is it?' Annie asked simply. She was determined not to get annoyed, because she knew what would happen. Any minute, S
ylvia would collapse like a pricked balloon and declare herself to be the most horrible person in the world.
'It's your mother's job, or your father's. What about Auntie Dot?'
'Don't be stupid! Me mam and dad live in a world of their own and Dot knows nothing about it. I'm the only one Marie's got to talk to.'
Sylvia stopped dead. 'Oh, Annie! What a dreadful person I am!' She stared at Annie soulfully. 'How do you put up with me?'
'I dunno, I must be daft.' Annie jerked her head. 'Come on, stop posing, else there won't be time for a coffee.'
'Posing?' Sylvia caught her up. 'Was I posing?'
'You pose all the time. You'd think you were Vivien Leigh.'
'Do I actually look like Vivien Leigh?' Sylvia tossed back her long blonde hair with a slender hand.
'Not in the least,' Annie said bluntly. 'You just pose and look dramatic, the way she did in Gone With the Wind:
Sylvia looked puzzled. 'Was that a compliment?'
'It was a statement, that's all.'
When they were in the cafe, Sylvia said, 'Why don't you ask Marie to come with us to the youth club?'
'I did once, but she refused. She knows you don't like her.'
Sylvia looked hurt. 'I've never said I didn't like her.'
'You didn't have to, Syl. It's obvious. Still, it was generous of you to offer, under the circumstances,' Annie said kindly.
'I've got an idea!' Sylvia's lovely blue eyes brightened. 'Cecy's terribly short-handed. Two women left after Christmas. Would Marie like a job? She'd be so busy, she wouldn't have time to be upset.'
'A job? What sort of job?' Marie demanded.
'Working in the kitchen in the Grand. It's good fun. I did it once and I really enjoyed meself.'
Her sister looked dubious. 'I'm no good at that sort of thing.'
'How do you know?' Annie enquired. 'You've never tried. The pay's good, five shillings an hour, plus tips.'
'Why don't you do it, then?' Marie asked suspiciously.
'Because I don't like taking money off me best friend's mother.'
'Five bob an hour!' Marie pursed her lips thoughtfully. 'How many nights a week?'
'You'd have to sort that out with Cecy. As many as you want, I expect, though they don't do meals on Sunday and Monday.'
'Gosh! I could earn pounds. I could buy meself stacks of clothes.' Marie looked animated for the first time in months. Annie reminded herself her sister was only
fourteen. She might have lost a baby, but she was still childish enough to be excited at the idea of buying clothes.
'You'd have to work really hard,' she said sternly.
Marie looked virtuous. 'I don't mind hard work.'
'You could have fooled me!'
'I really fancy one of those taffeta petticoats that make your skirt stick out,' Marie said longingly.
'We'll go to the Grand tonight and you can discuss it with Cecy.' Annie felt hopeful that the problem of Marie might be solved. 'By the way, she knows nothing about that business with the nursing home, so don't mention it whatever you do.'
Annie felt certain that everyone on the train was looking at her. It was as bad as - worse than - having nothing on. She caught the eye of an old woman, who quickly turned her head away.
'I feel dead stupid,' she whispered to Sylvia.
'For goodness' sake, Annie,' her friend snorted impatiently. 'You'd think you were the first woman in the world to wear slacks.'
'My bottom's hugeV
'No-one can see your bottom whilst you're sitting on it.'
'I wish I hadn't let you talk me into buying them.' It had seemed a good idea in Bon Marche. Lots of the girls in The Cavern wore slacks.
'Don't start putting the blame on me!' Sylvia said indignantly. She grinned. 'You'll soon get used to them.'
Annie wriggled. She felt as if she were being slowly cut in half. 'I suppose so,' she sighed.
'Where did you go last night with Cy?' Sylvia asked casually.
'For a Chinese meal. It was horrible, like eating
roots.' Annie glanced slyly at her friend. 'I'm not seeing him again.'
Sylvia tried not to look glad. 'I hope it's nothing to do with me!'
'It's because he kissed me!'
'But he kissed you before and you said you liked it!'
'This time he kissed me on the lips and his breath stinksl Honestly, Syl, it was like being kissed by a sewer! Phew!' Annie waved her hand in front of her face. Between kisses, he'd whispered how much he loved her and how beautiful she was, but all she could think of was how to escape from the rotten smell coming from his mouth. In the end, she'd pulled away and run into the station, where she'd jumped on a train -before there was time to make arrangements for another date.
Sylvia burst out laughing. 'It's all those cigarettes!'
'I know. He'll just have to find a girl who smokes as much as he does. Anyroad, I couldn't have gone out with him next Friday, could I? We're going to the theatre with Mr Andrews.'
After discovering that not a single member of the drama group had seen a real play in a real theatre, and, worse, they'd never heard of the Liverpool Playhouse, Mr Andrews decided it was time they paid a visit.
'It'll be my treat,' he said, 'though that's not as generous as it sounds. It's only a bob each at the back. That's where I used to sit in my hard-up student days.'
The play was School for Wives, a period piece which told the story of a disreputable old man in search of a young wife. Sylvia spent all week deciding what to wear and turned up in a long black coat and a Greta Garbo hat. She complained bitterly she was getting creased as more and more people squeezed into the next-to-back row until they were squashed together like sardines.
'What do you think so far?' Mr Andrews asked in the first interval.
'It's the dead gear, sir -1 mean, Mr Andrews.'
'That old man's a marvellous actor,' one of the boys said.
Mr Andrews' eyes twinkled. 'That "old man" is called Richard Briers and he's only twenty-one! When he becomes famous, which he surely will, you can tell people you first saw him at the Liverpool Playhouse.'
'I wish I hadn't come,' Annie said miserably. 'It makes me realise how awful my Goldilocks is.'
'Don't be silly,' Sylvia chided. 'I think you're very good. I've been telling you so for weeks.'
'She's still a bit stiff,' Mr Andrews said easily. 'She needs to relax a bit, that's all.'
'Are Mam and Dad going to see Goldilocks}^ Marie asked.
'I haven't mentioned it,' Annie replied. Her sister was helping to prepare the Sunday dinner. Since working at the Grand, she gave the occasional hand at home. 'I didn't ask them to the pantomime, did I?'
'That was different. This time you're the star. They went to Tommy's wedding, and they'll go to the christening when Dawn has her baby, so they should go and see their daughter in a play!' Dot and Bert would be grandparents at Easter. 'Cutting it fine,' Dot said darkly. 'Nine months to the day. I'll kill our Tommy if it's early. The whole street'll talk.'
'I suppose I could ask them,' Annie mused.
Later, on her way to see Sylvia, she thought, 'I've never made demands. In fact, it's me who's looked after them, rather than the other way round. When Mr Andrews asked what they'd thought of the pantomime, I had to lie again, say Mam was ill. It would look dead
no
funny if they didn't turn up for Goldilocks.'' People would wonder what sort of mam and dad she had.
She'd definitely ask them. 'It's time they did something for me.'
'That was brilliant, Annie,' Mr Andrews enthused when the dress rehearsal finished. 'Absolutely brilliant.'
'I got quite carried away,' Annie said modestly. It was Wednesday and the play was only two days off. Today, she'd actually managed to get inside Goldilocks, and feel her bitterness and frustration at the hand that fate had dealt her.
'That's as it should be.' Mr Andrews came onto the stage. 'Gather round, cast, I've some news.' They sat on the floor at his feet. 'We've
nearly sold out of tickets for the main performance, and Mr Parrish wants us to do an extra one on Friday afternoon just for the school.'
Everyone groaned affectedly and pretended it would be a bore.
Mr Andrews wasn't fooled. 'I knew you'd be pleased. There's a reporter coming from the Crosby Herald^ so you'll have your names in the paper next week. Now, who's brought money for tickets? You'd better be quick, there's only a few left.'
Annie supposed she'd better buy tickets for Mam and Dad before it was too late. She kept putting off asking them, but perhaps if she produced the tickets and waved them in their faces, it would be harder for them to refuse. The more she'd thought about it, the more important it seemed that they should come. It proved something, though she wasn't sure what. As soon as Dad finished his tea tonight, she'd bring it up,
Marie was about to leave for work when Annie got home. 'There's a big dinner tonight, Crosby Conservative Association. Bruno nearly hit the roof when he
found out. Cecy said he was nothing but a bloody Marxist. They had an awful row.'
'They often row, but it doesn't mean anything,' Annie said.
'I know. They're terribly in love. It's dead romantic' Marie sighed happily. 'It's smashing there, sis.' She kissed Annie's cheek. 'Ta!'
'Get away with you!' Annie flushed with pleasure. She couldn't remember her sister making a spontaneous show of affection before.
Marie left, and Annie began to prepare her father's tea. Since hearing he was throwing his dinner away, she'd been making appetising little treats. She smeared butter on a piece of plaice and slid it under the grill, peeled two small potatoes and opened a tin of peas.
She made herself a jam butty and ate it in the kitchen, staring through the window at the wall separating the house from Mrs Flaherty's. She felt restless and on edge, aware of the blue tickets in the breast pocket of her gymslip. She moved to the door where she could see her mam. The television was on without the sound. Once, when Mam was in the lavatory, Annie had looked in the cupboard, and there, as Marie had said, were several bottles of tablets with funny names she'd never heard of.
'God, it's horrificV she thought. 'It's like a nightmare - Mr Andrews could write a play about it.'
The clock on the mantelpiece struck seven, and she saw her mother's body tense. Her head cocked slightly as if she were listening for something. She was waiting for the sound of the latch on the backyard door, the signal that her husband was home.
