Stop! In the Name of Love
Page 2
“Jimmy, Jimmy, I’m here,” she yelled at him, waving her arms in the air.
“Bloody hell, Cheryl, you took ya time getting here. I didn’t think you were gonna turn up,” he said, relieved that she hadn’t stood him up.
“I know, I know. Mum had a barney with dad and then locked herself in the bathroom. It took me a bleedin’ hour to get her out just so I could finish getting ready. And don’t be thinking I made myself beautiful for you, neither. A girl ain’t spose to leave the confines of her home if she ain’t decent.”
“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and I think that I am in the presence of beauty,” he said full of charm. “Now quick, let’s get inside before we miss any of it.” He grabbed her arm and practically marched her into the picture house.
Paying for their tickets at the kiosk, the girl behind the glass tutted and rolled her eyes, then said, “It’s just about to start.” They ran to the door where the commissionaire, dressed in his red uniform, ripped their tickets in half and gave them one half back. Jimmy shoved Cheryl in through the door and then steered her toward the seats at the back row. They were just in time. The lights dimmed down, the red velvet curtains drew open, people’s voices became hushed and the Pearl and Dean adverts came on.
“Fancy an ice cream?” he asked her as the usherette walked down the steps in her uniform, carrying the ice cream tray around her neck.
“Yeah that’d be nice, and get me a drink too,” she said, watching him run down the steps to the usherette.
Cheryl could see the usherette’s torch light flash over the treats, then Jimmy picking out what he wanted. He paid her and then ran back up the steep incline.
“Your tub of ice cream and one wooden spoon and also your pop, Madame,” he joked.
Cheryl snatched them from him and ate the ice cream fast, not even offering to share any of it with him.
Jimmy pulled out a box of cigarettes, removed the wrapper and lit two, offering her one. “Fag for my lady?”
She snatched that too.
The film started and Cheryl was quite glad to see it at first. She inhaled on her cigarette and blowing out the smoke, she made fancy smoke rings. The room was filled with thick rising smoke that was enhanced by the projector beams. Cheryl stubbed it out in the ashtray in the arm of the seat and then drank her pop.
Jimmy, feeling that his luck was in, pretended to yawn and stretched his arms out wide, then let his one arm casually fall around her shoulder. His hopes were quickly dashed when she shrugged him off.
“You’ve got a nerve, Jimmy Potter. I ain’t ‘ere for that, you can get that right out of your dirty mind, right now!”
The usherette who happened to be standing at the top of the stairs, flashed her torch over at Cheryl and Jimmy. She whispered over to them to be quiet. Jimmy, using his delightful charm, apologised to her.
Cheryl tutted at him and reminded him again that she wasn’t the least bit interested in him in that way. She began to watch the film but her mind kept running away with her, with thoughts of Jeannie being pregnant and wondering what her own future held for her. After watching 20 minutes of it, she told Jimmy that she couldn’t watch anymore and had to leave. He was bothered that he’d spent his hard earned cash on her and she didn’t even give him as much as a kiss.
“Stay and watch the rest of the film, I’m really not enjoying this,” she said, climbing over his lap and then squeezing past the other courting couples to get to the end of the row. The usherette shone her torch over the steps for Cheryl to see her way. Looking back at Jimmy she saw him throw his empty cigarette pack down on the ground in annoyance.
“Ah, he’ll get over it,” she muttered to herself.
The toilets were just a few yards away and Cheryl knowing that she had a bus ride home, decided to go to the loo before she left. She sat on the loo and played with the toilet paper, pulling out a long stream whilst she hummed a tune quietly. After finishing peeing, she pulled her knickers up and went to the sink to wash her hands with the pink bar of half used dried out soap that was on the side.
Her head was down and her thoughts distant but when she looked up at herself in the mirror, she saw another woman coming out from one of the loos behind her. Cheryl stared at her intensely and thinking that she was seeing her move in slow motion, she blinked several times. Her long brown wavy hair had been back brushed to give it height on top and a white flower had been placed on the left side. Her eye brows were long and trimmed to the shape of her bone structure. Her false lashes protruded over green hazel eyes and just below her narrow nose were a voluptuous set of pale red lips. Cheryl stared intensely at her reflection.
The woman smiled sweetly at her as she stood by her side and picked up the same bar of pink soap.
“You couldn’t stand it either?” she asked, turning the taps on and washing her hands.
“No, it’s not that. I’m more for the romantic films,” Cheryl answered her confidently.
“Hi, I’m sorry, I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Carry Ann, Carry Ann Portman.” She held out her hand to shake Cheryl’s.
Cheryl dried her hands on the towel and shook Carrie Ann’s hand. “Just like the bleedin’ song, then. I’m Cheryl, Cheryl Carter.”
“Well I suppose that I could say that I was born well before the song was created,” Carry Ann commented.
Cheryl looked back at herself in the mirror. She smoothed her bob back into place and took her lipstick out of her bag and layered another coat of pale lilac over her lips. “I best be going, my bus will be ‘ere soon.”
“If it’s okay with you, could I walk with you a little? I came here with a group of so called friends but to be honest, this wasn’t the sort of night that I had planned for myself,” Carry Ann asked, politely inviting herself.
“Oh yeah, and what sort of night did ya ‘ave planned, then?” Cheryl asked inquisitively.
“If I’d had my way, I would have gone for a swift drink at my local pub, maybe even dared to have a second and then probably relaxed on my bed with a good book and a glass of wine.”
“You talk ever so posh, where are ya from?”
“Posh, me? That’s so extreme. To be honest, my background is no better than the next person’s but my Grandmother passed away when I was a just a baby, leaving my parents with a small amount of wealth. It was enough to send me to boarding school, a place that I really hated too. Hark at me rambling away, I bet I’ve bored you to death already.”
Cheryl smiled and together they walked out of the picture house and down the street.
It was dark and now the heavens had opened and heavy rain was pouring down. Neither girl had an umbrella, so they decided to dart into a nearby café. A gang of Mods were sitting at a table by the window and wolf whistled at the girls when they entered.
“Alright, girls, nice tits ya got there,” one of them called out sending the rest of the group into fits of laughter.
“If I wasn’t in such a good mood, I’d tell ya all to piss off,” Cheryl said defensively.
“Alright, then, lads, leave the ladies alone, now,” the shop owner said from behind the counter. “What can I get you ladies, then?” he asked, drying his hands on a tea towel that was tucked into his apron.
“Tea, Cheryl?” Carry Ann asked, taking her purse out from her handbag.
“Yeah, sure. Two sugars please.”
“Two teas, please,” Carry Ann ordered.
They sat down at a table by the counter and waited for their teas to arrive. The shop owner brought them over and asked if they wanted anything else. Carry Ann shook her head and he walked away.
“So what do you do, Cheryl?” Carry Ann asked her, softly blowing her tea to cool it.
“I’m not currently doing anything at the moment. I left school a few months ago. I’ll probably go on welfare soon if I don’t get a job but to be honest, I ain’t even bleedin’ looked for one yet,” she informed her. “I still live with my mum and dad and trust me, some days that ain’t easy. We live in
those flats on the estate up by the abandoned factory. My best mate Jeannie lives a few doors down from me. We’re both on the third floor. Mum hates that she has to carry the washing down all them steps and hang it out for all the neighbours to gawk at. Every day, there’s washing hangin’ on them lines, blowing in the wind and trust me, some folks ain’t got no pride.”
“It all sounds extremely fascinating,” Carry Ann commented pleasantly.
“No it ain’t. To be honest, it’s a pissing dive, not fit for the likes of human beings but what choice do we ‘ave nowadays? Dads always complainin’ about the noisy neighbours, mums always on at dad about wasting his money down at the local pub or ‘aving a flutter at the bookies and I ‘ave to hear it all.”
Carry Ann drank her tea, then wiped her mouth with a paper napkin.
“Blimey, you act like a proper lady. Did they teach you manners at boarding school?” Cheryl asked her.
“My mother has always done it, so I guess that I must follow her.”
“Where do you live, then?” Cheryl asked her.
“My parents live in Chelsea. But I have recently rented a pad out in South Kensington. I share it with a friend of mine, Bernadette. She’s cool. We went to boarding school together and have been best friends ever since. She should have come out with me tonight but her cousin is in town and she promised to take her for a nice meal and show her around. That’s how come I ended up going out with some work friends tonight.”
“Where do you work, then, that you can afford a pad?”
Carry Ann laughed. “I’m a school teacher. I teach five year olds and they are just simply adorable.”
One of the lads got up and walked over to their table. He sat down in one of the chairs and smiling at them both, he said, “So do you two sexy birds fancy joining us over there? We don’t bite, well maybe nibble a little,” he smirked.
“Sod off, ya bleedin’ idiot, can’t ya see we are ‘aving a deep conversation ‘ere?” Cheryl barked at him.
“Leave it out, Clive,” one of his mates shouted as the group got up ready to leave. “Come on let’s get out of here, there’s plenty of birds down at the club, don’t waste yer time with these two skirts.”
“Skirts! You couldn’t afford the likes of us. My mate ‘ere is a school teacher and she’s posh an’ all, much posher than the bleedin’ type of skirts you’ll ever end up with, now clear off,” Cheryl snapped at them.
“Yer well, I gotta see a man about a dog anyway.” Clive sauntered off muttering to himself, “Bloody time wasters.”
Carry Ann giggled when they were out of sight. “Cheryl, you were brave.”
“Nah, not really. I just know that the shop keeper would ‘ave either kicked them out or us out if any trouble would’ve started. He don’t want no trouble in his joint, now does he.”
They finished their tea and waited a while for the rain storm to pass, then set off for the bus stop.
“It shouldn’t be too much longer now, this one is usually about ten minutes late so we should be right about on time,” Cheryl informed her. “Mind you though, I wish they hadn’t planted it right in front of the chippy, it always makes me feel hungry smelling that grease, even when I ain’t! Mind you, mum would kill me if she cooked me tea and then I didn’t eat it cos I’d fancied a bag of chips, I’d never hear the end of it.”
“Well at least you get to enjoy a home cooked meal. I usually have to cater for myself but I do enjoy visiting my parents. They tend to spoil me rotten when I go over.”
“That’s nice, being spoiled like that,” Cheryl commented.
The bus arrived and the queue of people boarded. Cheryl and Carry Ann sat on the top deck at the front.
“I always sit ‘ere on buses, they tend to smell of piss usually. It’s disgusting,” Cheryl said.
Carry Ann laughed out loud. “Oh, Cheryl, you’re such a joy to be around, I hope you never lose your character.”
The bus drove for several minutes, stopping at every bus stop to pick up or drop off passengers.
“Well ‘ere’s my stop to get off. It was nice meeting you, Carry Ann.”
“Wait, take this, it’s my phone number. I’m usually home in the evenings, please keep in touch, I would like that very much.”
“I’d like that too,” Cheryl said, taking the posh looking card from her new friend. “Maybe I’ll give you a ring soon enough.” She smiled at Carry Ann and then pressed the stop button to get off the bus. She walked down the spiralling steps and stepped out onto the pavement almost tripping.
“Watch yourself, Miss,” the bus conductor called to her.
Carry Ann waved at her from the window as the bus drove away. Cheryl waved back and was left feeling that she’d had quite a fulfilled evening.
She walked along the dimly lit street, swinging her handbag as she hummed happily to herself. She turned the corner to the estate and looked up at the concrete buildings. “There must be bleedin’ hundreds of flats ‘ere. Cheryl Carter, if it’s the last thing you do girl, you’re gonna leave this disgusting slum and get ya self a right nice place, just like your nice new friend has,” she muttered to herself.
•••
“Ya teas been ready for hours, Cheryl! I don’t know why I bother to bleedin’ cook for you if you can’t be bothered to stay in and eat it. Bleedin’ waste of time, I tell ya!” her mother complained. “I need a fag, you’re gonna drive me to an early grave, girl.”
Cheryl closed the front door still in a dreamlike state. She opened her bag and pulled out a packet of cigarettes, “Ya can ‘ave one of my fags if ya like,” she said to her mother.
“Blimey, what’s up with you, you never offer so much as a sausage let alone a fag,” her mother taunted.
Cheryl sat at the small square dining table. Her dad was on the sofa watching the local news on the TV. Her mother went into the kitchen, then brought out a plate of food.
“Shepherd’s pie and the plates steaming hot.” She plonked the knife and fork beside the plate and then sat in the arm chair, lit her fag and joined her husband in watching the TV. “Pass us the ashtray, Cheryl, luv,” she said.
Cheryl picked up the heavy glass ashtray from the table and stretched over to pass it to her mum.
“What have you been up to tonight, Cheryl, luv,” her dad finally asked.
“Oh nothing much. I went to the picture house to go and see that spy film but I left early. I did make a nice new friend though.”
“That’s nice, Cheryl, luv,” he said without even taking his eyes away from the TV. “Looks like there’s been another robbery at a jewellery shop and in broad daylight too. The pigs will be swarming the town centre now.”
“Well it’s all been shouting and tears at no. 37. I reckon Jeannie’s been gobbing off at her mother. Lots of slamming doors and shouting there was,” her mother informed her.
“Oh, no. Poor Jeannie,” Cheryl sighed.
“Causing trouble is she?” Cheryl’s dad asked.
“Ya gonna hear it from her crabby mother any way so I might as well tell ya, and I had nothing to do with it. Jeannie’s only gone and got herself up the duff,” Cheryl told them.
“Up the duff! Oh that poor girl, oh the shame,” her mother said, clasping her cheeks with her hands.
“I ain’t never getting’ with no bloke. Bleedin’ disgusting hairy chests and big fat beer bellies pouncin’ all over ya. There ain’t no chance of me gettin’ up the duff, that’s for sure.”
“I’ll have less of that talk, my girl,” her mother scorned, flicking her cigarette ash into the ashtray.
“Leave it out, Cheryl, luv, you’ll change ya mind when ya find the right fella. But there’s plenty of time for that, you’re just a kid,” her dad said.
“Don’t you be encouraging her, Freddie. What does she know, anyways? Now eat ya tea, Cheryl, before it gets cold.”
•••
Cheryl lay in bed with her hands behind her head and her eyes wide open. Staring at a poster her favourite actress
, on her ceiling, she began to think about Carry Ann and how she’d made her feel special. She had a tingling sensation in her belly when she said Carry Ann’s name out loud to herself and not understanding what was happening to her, she turned on to her side, plumped her pillow and fell asleep.
Her dad leaving for work in the morning and slamming the front door jolted Cheryl out of her deep sleep. She stretched and yawned loudly. Shortly after, her mother barged in to her room.
“Get ya lazy arse up out of that bed, anyone would think that you was royalty just lying there all la de da. And what’s that bleedin’ stain on the rug?” She bent down and rubbed her finger over it. “Bloody eye shadow. You can start by cleaning that lot off the rug for starters,” her mother complained.
Cheryl grabbed her pillow and buried her head beneath it to deafen her mother’s constant nagging. “Oh knock it off, mum, will ya.”
“Bleedin’ filthy, that’s what it is,” she said as she walked out the room.
Cheryl leaned over to the side of her bed and turned on the radio. The Searchers ‘Sweets for my Sweet’ was playing. She flung the covers back and sat on the edge of her bed. Looking down at the blue eye shadow stain on the rug, she ran her toe over it, trying to rub it into the loops to hide it. She thought about Carry Ann again and about her being a school teacher and able to afford a pad of her own.
“Mum!” she yelled out.
“What?” her mother shouted back from the front room.
“I’m hungry. Any toast?”
“Bleedin’ hell, Cheryl,” her mother muttered loud enough for her to hear.
Cheryl knew she’d get up off her lazy arse and make her some toast. Even with all the banter and arguing, her mother would never let her go hungry.
Cheryl dressed in her grey pinafore dress, sat at the table and ate toast with a scraping of strawberry jam. She swung her legs beneath the seat as she happily bit into to her breakfast.