The Girl From Number 22 (50 page)

Hetty chuckled. ‘Yer’ll be able to sell yerself some wallpaper. And yer could ask for a discount, seeing as yer work there.’

‘Ay, don’t be putting ideas into Annie’s head, sunshine, ’cos it would be really cheeky to ask for a discount when she’s only just started working there.’

‘I was only joking, girl.’

‘I know yer were, sunshine, ’cos ye’re the last person in the world to be cheeky enough to ask for something for nothing. And anyway, if I know Andy, Annie will get a discount without having to ask.’

‘I wouldn’t take a discount, even if he offered,’ Annie said. ‘Everyone has to make a living, and the man’s probably got a family to keep.’

Ada and Hetty exchanged glances, then Ada said, ‘He’s had a lot of sadness in his life, sunshine, and me and Hetty think we should tell yer about it, so yer understand. We’re not telling tales out of school, but just to put yer wise in case yer asked him about his family.’

Annie looked from one to the other. ‘Hasn’t he got a family?’

‘I’ll tell yer from the beginning, sunshine, then yer won’t be getting it in bits and pieces. He and his wife used to run the shop between them. They had a fourteen-year-old son who had just left school and got a job as an apprentice mechanic. I’m not sure how long ago it was, time goes so quickly. Probably ten or eleven years ago now. His wife was suddenly taken ill, and within two weeks she was dead. It was a brain haemorrhage. Anyway, everyone was shocked, for she was only forty-two. One day she’s laughing and joking in the shop, then two weeks later she’s dead. Andy, God help him, was out of his mind with grief. The shop was closed for weeks, and it took him a long time to come to terms with it.’

‘It took him years,’ Hetty said. ‘But the son is married now, and he and his wife have been wonderful. They had a baby son last year, and they’ve called it Andrew. It’s given Andy a new lease of life. He loves his grandson, and likes nothing better than to talk about him. He’s happier than he’s been for years, and so proud of being part of a family. He’ll talk the leg off yer about
his grandson, but whether he’ll tell yer about his wife, well, I don’t know.’

‘I’m glad yer’ve told me all that, ’cos otherwise I might just have put me foot in it.’ Annie spoke softly. ‘The poor man must have been heartbroken. Yer don’t expect to lose yer wife so young.’ She gave a deep sigh. ‘They say only the good die young. It doesn’t seem right when there are some rotters who live to a ripe old age.’

‘We have to take life as it comes, sunshine, we have no control over it. But Andy’s a lovely man, and I’m sure yer’ll get on really well with him. Yer’ll go a long way to find a better man for a boss.’

‘I’m looking forward to Monday, but a bit scared as well. I’ve never worked in a shop, and I hope I don’t let the man down.’

‘You won’t, sunshine, yer’ll be great. I’ve got every faith in yer. And now it’s time for us to get off our backsides and do some shopping. I think I’ll give mine sausage and egg tonight, it’s quick and easy.’

Hetty and Annie smiled at each other and nodded in agreement. ‘It seems the Fenwick family, the Watsons and the Phillipses will all be having the same.’

‘Not all the Phillipses, sweetheart, only three of them. The other one can get some chips from the chippy if he’s hungry.’

While Annie and Ben were being led to their seats in the stalls by an usherette, Tom Phillips was walking up the back entry to Bella’s yard. He was ten minutes early, so he’d probably have to wait a while. But better early than late. He glanced behind him before he opened the door, just in case there were any nosy parkers around. Not that they would worry him, for they wouldn’t know him from Adam. But he knew Bella didn’t
like her clients to be seen and he didn’t want to get on the wrong side of her. She was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he was keen not to fall out of favour with her.

Once he’d closed the entry door behind him, Tom opened the lavatory door and stood just inside. This was in case the neighbours either side happened to be looking out of their bedroom windows. He lit a cigarette to pass the time, and also to calm himself down. His whole body was alive with anticipation. But he’d barely had time to draw on the cigarette before Bella appeared before him. He thought she’d come to tell him off for being so early, and he threw his cigarette on the ground and sheepishly began to apologise.

Bella brushed his words aside. Speaking in a whisper, she said, ‘A bloke knocked on me door a few minutes ago, said he’d been recommended by two of me regulars. I’m not sure about him, but I’ll take him on ’cos I need the money. But I’ve had reason in the past to know yer can’t trust men not to be violent, so I’m going to ask yer to stand in me back kitchen just in case this bloke causes me any trouble. He won’t see yer, ’cos I’ll keep the door closed, but I’d feel better if I knew I had someone to call on. Will yer do that for me?’

Tom was more than eager. He felt so important his chest swelled with pride. ‘Yeah, of course I will.’

‘Yer’ll hear voices and groans, but take no notice. Only come in if I call yer. Don’t make a sound, or yer’ll put the punter off. Do that for me and I’ll see yer right.’

When Bella went into the living room, closing the door behind her, Tom leaned back against the sink. He could hear a man’s voice but the wireless had been turned on and he couldn’t make out what was being said. Then over the next half-hour all
he could do was stand and listen to grunts and groans, and wish they’d hurry up. Then he heard Bella’s voice, but she wasn’t calling for him, so he knew she’d had no problem with the man and was showing him out of the front door.

When Bella opened the kitchen door, Tom moved away from the sink. ‘He was all right then, was he? No trouble?’

‘He was fine, as good as gold and very grateful. He’ll be coming next Saturday at the same time, wants to be a regular. But I’m always on me guard when I’m with a client for the first time, ’cos they can be as nice as pie when they come in, and then turn nasty if yer won’t do some of the things they want yer to. I’ve had many a black eye, and worse.’

‘I’ll be asking yer to let me come next Saturday.’ Tom was jealous that the other bloke might get in first. ‘And yer should know now that yer can trust me.’ Then he had a crafty thought. ‘I’ll do what I did tonight, if yer like. I don’t mind standing guard in case anyone turns nasty on yer. How about it?’

Bella stared at him for so long he began to feel uncomfortable. Then she said, ‘Perhaps you and me could come to some arrangement. I could make a lot more money on a Saturday night if I could let the punters come here, ’cos as yer know I charge a shilling.’ There was a look of hardness about her when she added, ‘Yer won’t get paid for it in cash, mind, but yer’d get paid in kind. What d’yer say?’

‘I’ll make a deal with yer. I’ll come every Saturday night, whatever time yer say, and I’ll stay as long as yer want me to. I’ll make sure no one hurts yer, or tries to pull a fast one on yer. In return I’d expect yer to see to my needs without any charge. I think that’s fair to both of us. And I’ll still come through the week for me tanner’s worth.’

The hardness was back in her eyes. ‘That sounds fair enough
to me, as long as yer can handle yerself. Yer’d be no good to me if yer ran a mile at the first sign of trouble.’

‘I can handle meself, don’t you worry about that. I’d take good care of yer, and make sure no one took advantage of yer. So, is it a deal?’

Bella narrowed her eyes. ‘How do I know I can rely on yer being here every Saturday? What about yer wife and family?’

‘That’s something else yer don’t have to worry about. If I say I’ll be here, then I’ll be here. There’s no one to stop me.’

His wife’s downtrodden, Bella told herself as she led him into the living room. But if I had to feel sorry for the wife of every punter, I’d soon be out of business. ‘I’ve got the first of me regulars coming in half an hour, so get those buttons undone.’

Jenny was standing on the platform of the tram as it shuddered to a halt just yards from the Grafton rooms. She saw her two workmates standing outside, and she waved before jumping down and running towards them. ‘I hope yer haven’t been waiting long?’

‘It’s a wonder yer ears haven’t been burning,’ Pat said. ‘We’ve been pulling yer to pieces for the last ten minutes.’

‘We thought yer were going to let us down again.’ Barbara’s nose was red with the cold. ‘I said if yer didn’t turn up, we’d never ask yer again.’

‘Well, I’m here now, so stop moaning.’ Jenny had come without her gloves and her fingers were like ice. ‘I’ve got a lot further to come than you two, don’t forget.’

‘Blimey!’ Barbara said as the threesome made a dash for the doors. ‘She’ll be asking us to pay her the extra penny tram fare.’

In the cloakroom, with the circulation back in her fingers and feet, Jenny’s spirits were high as she laughed with her friends. It was a lovely feeling, knowing that she didn’t need to worry about what was happening to her mother. The sense of freedom, of being with friends of her own age, was exhilarating, and she had every intention of enjoying the evening.

Pat turned from the mirror on the white-painted wall to ask,
‘Is this lipstick too red? It looks to me as though I’ve cut meself and me lips are bleeding.’

‘I don’t think it’s too red.’ Barbara was combing her mousy-coloured hair, which hung down to her shoulders. ‘But if yer think it makes yer look like a tart, then kiss the back of yer hand and it’ll take some off.’

‘Look like a tart! Well, you cheeky beggar, Barbara Watkins. If I look like a tart, you look like a tart’s mother with all that powder and rouge plastered on yer face. I bet if yer smiled, yer face would crack.’

Jenny stood by, smiling. Her two workmates were always pulling each other to pieces, but it was all in fun, for they were the very best of friends. ‘If you two don’t get a move on, we’ll just about make it for the last waltz.’

‘Huh! Just listen to her!’ Barbara said, her nostrils flared for effect. ‘She doesn’t need any make-up. Eyes big enough to swim in, and hair thick enough to get lost in.’

‘Yer both look gorgeous,’ Jenny told them as she linked their arms. ‘I bet yer both get asked up as soon as we go through the door. And I’ll be the wallflower that sits every dance out.’

The girls were laughing as they walked through the double door into the dance hall. They walked towards the seats that were set along the full length of the wall. ‘We’ll leave our bags under the chairs,’ Pat said. ‘We’d look silly dancing with them, and no one is going to pinch them, anyway.’

‘They wouldn’t get much if they did pinch mine,’ Jenny told them as she bent to push her handbag under a chair. ‘There’s only a comb in it, and a few coppers.’

She was running a hand down her skirt to smooth it into shape, when she felt a tap on her shoulder, and a voice asked, ‘Would yer like to dance?’

Jenny spun round to find herself facing the blond-haired boy she’d met when she went to Blair Hall with Danny. ‘Oh, hello! I didn’t expect to see you here.’ She could see the surprise on the faces of her friends, and said, ‘These two are mates from work, Pat and Barbara.’ She put a finger to her chin, then said, ‘Oh, it’s Tony, isn’t it?’

He nodded, and his white teeth flashed when he imitated Johnny Weissmuller. ‘Me Tony, you Jenny.’

‘Yer daft ha’p’orth.’ Jenny grinned. ‘I thought yer went to Blair Hall every night?’

‘I do most nights, but lucky for me I decided to come here tonight for a change.’ He grinned. ‘Are yer going to dance with me, or what?’

Jenny looked at her friends. ‘D’yer mind if I leave yer?’

‘Listen, kid, yer came here to dance, so dance!’ Pat gave broad wink. ‘Put in a good word for us. Ask if he’s got any mates.’

Barbara agreed. ‘Yeah, go on, kid, and enjoy yerself. But when yer come back I’ll be telling yer what a dark horse yer are. Yer tell us yer hardly ever go out, but yer just walked in this door and got spoken for.’

Jenny was smiling as Tony took her hand and led her on to the dance floor. ‘They’re as crazy as coots, but good mates.’

It was a slow foxtrot, and as they danced Tony asked, ‘Does Danny know yer were coming here tonight?’

‘No, he wouldn’t know that. Why?’

‘I thought yer were good friends. He seemed very protective of yer.’

‘Danny lives opposite me. I suppose yer could say we were friends, but that’s all.’

Tony laughed as though pleased, and he pulled her close.
Until then, Jenny had been enjoying the dance, but feeling him so close sent a cold shiver up her spine. Her father’s face flashed before her eyes and suddenly the pleasure was taken from the dance. She pulled herself back, intending to make an excuse and say she’d twisted an ankle or something. But when she looked into Tony’s face, he was smiling as though he was happy, and she didn’t have the heart to spoil his enjoyment. The poor lad probably saw nothing wrong in holding her tight, and would be horrified if he knew what was running through her mind. He had an open face, not leering like her father’s, and she was being childish. All the couples on the floor were holding each other close, and the boys weren’t all bad. They could hardly dance with a yard separating them, she was just being stupid. She mustn’t let her mind be poisoned because of a father who was rotten to the core. For if she did, she’d be looking at every boy through jaundiced eyes, and she would have allowed her father to ruin her life. And that was something she wasn’t going to let happen.

The music came to an end, and Tony put his arm on her waist to walk her back to where her friends were. ‘Seeing as Danny isn’t here to claim yer, can I have the next dance, and the one after that?’

‘Only if yer do me a favour.’

‘Anything at all.’

‘Then in between dancing with me, would yer ask me mates up? They’ve danced with each other for the slow-fox, and I don’t want them to think I’m being big-headed by dancing with you for every dance. So will yer do that favour for us?’

‘Yeah, of course I will. But don’t you go dancing with every other Tom, Dick and Harry.’

They were nearing Pat and Barbara when Jenny said, ‘If I get
asked up, I’ll ask them their name. If it’s Tom, Dick or Harry, I’ll tell them I’m spoken for.’