The Girls from See Saw Lane (12 page)

‘I love nights like this,' said Ralph. He was quiet for a while and then he said, ‘See those three stars all in a row?'

‘I'm not sure,' I said, gazing up at the sky.

‘Just look for a while and you should see them,' said Ralph.

I stared at the hundreds of stars, trying to find three in a row and then I saw them, ‘I've got it,' I said.

‘That's Orion's Belt,' said Ralph.

‘Just his belt?' I said, smiling.

‘Just his belt,' said Ralph, putting his arm round my shoulder and laughing.

Suddenly one of the stars shot across the sky.

‘Make a wish, Dottie.'

I closed my eyes and wished that this perfect night could last forever.

‘Well?' said Ralph. ‘What did you wish for?'

‘I can't tell you that,' I said. ‘It won't come true.'

‘Technically,' said Ralph, ‘it's not really a star.'

‘What is it then?'

‘It's a meteor.'

‘What's that?'

‘It's tiny bits of dust and rock called meteoroids that fall into the earth's atmosphere and burn up.'

‘Are you telling me that I just wished on a lump of rock?'

‘Looks like it,' said Ralph, laughing.

Then he leaned down and he kissed me. The kiss was gentle, as if a soft breeze had barely brushed my lips. We smiled at one another and I felt something change inside me then. I wasn't sure what it was. I'd never felt like that before, but the feeling was that I wanted to be with Ralph always, standing next to him, the two of us, together.

That night in bed I dreamt of a skinny red-haired boy cycling up and down outside my house and a kiss that tasted like a summer's day.

I
t was late November
. The nights were closing in and there was a chill in the air. Wedding fever at our house had reached dangerous levels. Mum and Rita were strung tight as bows. They were both very emotional and the slightest little thing could set either of them off. For example, Dad moved his armchair closer to the wireless to listen to the football and where the chair had been was a stain. And when she saw the stain, Mum's eyes went all red and glassy and she had to fish for the hanky she kept up her sleeve, and she was dabbing at her nose and Dad said: ‘For Dave's sake, what's the matter now?'

‘How can you be so heartless?' said Mum tearfully. 

Dad and I exchanged confused glances.

‘Don't you know what that is?' Mum asked, pointing at the stain. Dad did his best. He racked his brains for a couple of moments and then shook his head.

‘That's where our Rita threw up after her fourth birthday party!'

We both looked at her for further enlightenment.

‘And now she's a grown woman about to go off and have a life of her own!' Mum said before collapsing into sobs.

Dad looked very uncomfortable but he did get up and pat her on the back and say, ‘Glass of medicinal, love?'

Being with Ralph was easy, but at the same time it was exciting. When I knew he was coming over, my heart would speed up and I'd feel all full of energy, like I used to feel before Christmas when I was little. I would watch out of the bedroom window and, when I saw him coming along the road, I'd have a mad five minutes rushing between the bathroom and the mirror and the window, so that I was always out of breath and pink-cheeked when he arrived. And when I was with him, I still felt energetic and alive, but at the same time I felt calm, as if I was exactly where I was supposed to be in time and place. 

The rest of my family behaved better when Ralph was there too. He got on really well with Clark. And Ralph and my dad were big supporters of Brighton and Hove Albion football club. One Saturday he and Dad went to the Goldstone ground in Hove to see them play a home match. Ralph was becoming part of my family and I liked that. Every moment together was precious, walking along the beach, throwing pebbles into the sea, or leaning on the edge of the pier looking at the ships going by on the horizon.

Eventually, after what felt like absolutely forever, and after more fuss and bother than anyone could possibly imagine, the dresses were finally finished the day before ‘The Wedding'. It was a Friday and Ralph and I had been hoping to go out and do something on our own, but Mum said we couldn't until I'd tried the dress on. I was cross about having to stay in, but Ralph pointed out that it was only one evening out of our lives and what was one evening? Also, as he said, it meant a lot to my family that I tried the dress on to make sure it was perfect. He whispered in my ear that he wanted to see it too.

I didn't hold out much hope for the dress, which looked like a pink sack with a hole cut out for my head. I made a face when Aunty Brenda held it up and glanced over to Ralph.

‘I'm not sure I want Ralph to see me wearing this,' I said. 

‘Don't be ungrateful, Dottie,' said Mum. ‘Your Aunty Brenda has worked very hard on that dress. Ralph's going to see you wearing it at church tomorrow anyway. I'm sure it will look lovely once it's on.'

‘On what?' said Clark. ‘On fire?'

Me and my cousin Carol went upstairs and put our dresses on. Something happened when I slipped the dress over my head. It changed into something magical, something lovely that fitted me like a glove that slipped over my hips and finished just above my ankles. I turned this way and that in front of the mirror, and Carol, whose dress was too tight, looked at me in awe.

‘Whoa!' she said. ‘You look…'

‘What?'

‘Amazing!'

It was the only nice thing that I could ever remember Carol saying to me.

When we came downstairs Mum went all misty-eyed and Ralph stood up and looked at me with the widest smile I'd ever seen on his face. He held out his hand and I walked around the table and took it. He leaned down and kissed my cheek.

‘You're beautiful,' he whispered and for a moment – oh I know I shouldn't have – but for one moment I wished it was my wedding in the morning. I wished I was going to be walking down the aisle and standing next to Ralph. I wished…

‘Nelson!' Mum called. ‘Come and see the bridesmaids' dresses!'

‘Do I have to?' Dad called from the living room. He was doing the pools.

‘Yes!'

We heard his slippers flapping along the lino in the hall and then Dad came into the kitchen. A fag was burning between the two yellow fingers of his right hand. He looked at me, standing there beside Ralph, and then he looked at Carol, and it was obvious he wasn't sure what he was supposed to say.

‘They'll do,' he said.

‘What do you mean, “They'll do”! Can't you be a bit a bit more enthusiastic about it?'

‘What do you want me to say? They're dresses!'

‘They are not just dresses, Nelson, they are bridesmaid dresses that Brenda worked her fingers to the bone to make for your daughter's wedding. Your daughter who is soon to be the wife of a man who is in the insurance business and they deserve more than a “They'll do”!‘ 

‘I wish you'd told me all that before I walked into the kitchen,' said Dad. ‘I'd have a prepared a speech. Women, eh?' He winked at Ralph.

Mum opened her mouth to say something else to him and Dad backed off a bit but he was saved by Rita, who burst through the back door looking as white as a sheet and crying fit to burst.

She threw herself into Mum's arms and Mum rubbed her back and said, ‘There there,' and mouthed to Aunty Brenda: ‘Put the kettle on.'

‘Sit down, love, whatever's the matter?' said Mum. She looked really worried.

‘Has Nigel let you down, dear?' asked Aunty Brenda.

‘No,' sobbed Rita.

Mum mouthed: ‘Thank Heavens!' to Aunty Brenda and Aunty Brenda crossed herself and rolled her eyes skywards and filled the kettle with water.

‘You're not in trouble, are you?' said Dad.

‘Of course she's not in trouble,' said Mum. ‘Not that it would matter if she was, she's getting married tomorrow. Make yourself useful and get the best cups out.'

Rita let out another wail and dropped her head into her arms on the table.

‘Now come on,' said Mum. ‘What's this all about?'

Rita raised her head. She looked terrible. Her hair was all over her face and there were great black mascara smudges all around her eyes.

‘President Kennedy's only gone and got himself shot!' she wailed. 

Beside me Ralph tensed. His hand squeezed mine even more tightly.

‘Is he going to be all right?' I said.

‘Of course he's not going to be all right! He's dead,' screamed Rita as if I should have known.

Aunty Brenda crossed herself again and lifted the kettle off the hob with a tea towel. 

‘That's terrible,' she said, shaking her head. ‘Those poor little children!' 

I was really shocked about President Kennedy getting himself shot, but I was even more shocked at Rita‘s reaction to it. I mean, when it came to Rita's milk of human kindness, it wasn't what you would call overflowing, but here she was being really very upset about it.

‘And his lovely young wife,' said Mum. Tears were welling up in her eyes at the thought of the lovely Jackie Kennedy being widowed so young. ‘Oh it's terrible,' she said. ‘Terrible!'

That‘s when Rita blew the milk of human kindness theory out of the window. She stared from Mum to Aunty Brenda and back again. Her mouth was wide open as if she couldn't believe what they were saying.

‘Never mind
them
!' she sobbed. ‘What about
my
wedding?'

‘What's it got to do with your wedding?' I asked.

.Rita gave me one of her most withering looks. ‘Everyone will be watching the news on the telly and no one will be out on the street watching me leave the house!' she said.

‘She is such a caring girl,' said Clark. ‘We are all so proud of her.'

‘Shut up, brainless,' shouted Rita. ‘What do you know about it?'

‘Well, brainless I might be,' said Clark. ‘But at least I've got a heart and not a swinging brick, and it seems to me that President Kennedy getting shot will come higher on people's list of priorities than your stupid wedding.'

Rita couldn't really argue with that so she came over all dramatic.

‘I want to die,' she sobbed. 

‘Don't talk silly,' said Mum, struggling to banish the thought of the poor young widow from her mind. ‘And anyway not everyone's got a telly. I'm sure some people will see you leave the house.'

‘I'd be relieved if they didn't,' Dad mumbled. ‘I'm not looking forward to walking down the path in a top hat and tails for all the neighbours to have a good laugh.'

‘You don't have to give me away,' screamed Rita, ‘I can easily get someone else to do it.'

‘I'd give you away anytime Rita, just say the word,' said Clark.

‘As if I'd let you walk me down the aisle! I'd rather go on my own.'

‘That's silly talk,' said Mum, stirring about six spoons of sugar into Rita's tea. ‘Every bride wants her dad by her side on her wedding day.'

‘Why did they have to go and shoot him right before my special day?' said Rita.

‘I don't suppose they knew it was your special day,' said Dad.

I thought that was quite a sensible comment but Mum said: ‘Nelson Perks, get out of this kitchen before I say something I'll regret.'

Dad left and Mum pressed the cup of wet sugar into Rita's hands. 

‘Now dry those tears,' she said, smoothing Rita's hair like she was a little girl, ‘And see how lovely Dottie and Carol look in their dresses.'

Rita looked at me and Carol and she actually smiled.

‘They do look nice,' she said. ‘Thanks ever so, Aunty Brenda.'

‘That's all right, Rita,' said Aunty Brenda, but you could tell she was touched. It wasn't often our Rita said thank you to anyone.

Dad poked his head back round the kitchen door. ‘Well, am I walking her down the aisle or not?'

‘Out!' said Mum. ‘Men, eh? We'd be better off without them.'

I glanced up at Ralph but he hadn't taken offence.

‘But my Nigel's not like that,' Rita sniffed, wiping her eyes with the corner of a tea towel. 

‘Of course he's not, dear,' said Mum. ‘He's cut from a different type of cloth altogether.'

‘Is it all right if I go upstairs and get changed now?' I asked.

‘I wish you would,' said Rita. ‘I wish you'd change into someone normal.'

‘If I had feelings I'd be hurt,' I said.

‘Who's President Kennedy?' asked Carol.

T
he morning
of the wedding found Mum, Aunty Brenda, Rita, Carol and me in the Flick 'n' Curl having our hair done. We took up the whole row of chairs in front of the mirrors. Three people worked there. The owner was called Mrs Mustoe and she was a bit of a scary woman with a big bosom and tall hair piled up on her head in a beehive. She wore high heels and she had big calves and lots of jewellery and smoked all the time. I knew she was sophisticated because she smoked menthol cigarettes through a pink cigarette-holder. She always had a slight sneer on her face and Mum said she ran the place with a rod of iron.

As well as Mrs Mustoe, there were two girls, Louise and Wendy. They were both very pretty and wore pink gingham nylon over-dresses. Mum and Rita had already had a long talk with Mrs Mustoe, so everyone knew what they were doing. Mum and Aunty Brenda were having a wash and set and the rest of us were having our hair put up with great big curls on the top. Rita said it was the height of fashion. I wasn't convinced. 

‘It will look lovely,' said Mum. ‘You wait and see.'

She had been right about the dress so I decided just to let them get on with it. I wanted to look my best though. I wanted Ralph to be proud of me when I walked up the aisle behind my sister. I was still buzzing from the previous evening and remembering the way he'd looked at me when he'd seen me in the dress.  

‘Your sister's wedding, is it?' Wendy asked, winding my hair into big pink rollers. She pinned each roller so tight to my scalp that it hurt.

‘Yes,' I said. I was staring at myself in the mirror. Behind, I could see Mum and Aunty Brenda's legs sticking out from beneath their pink gowns as they lay back with their heads in two neighbouring basins. I could see the shape of the sherry bottle in Aunty Brenda's handbag. Mrs Mustoe's cigarette smoke was already creating a sort of haze at head-height.

‘I love weddings,' Wendy said, taking a couple of kirby grips out of her mouth and fastening another roller. I winced. ‘I can't wait to get married.'

‘Are you engaged then?' 

She shook her head. ‘No, but I've been seeing a feller for nearly three and a half weeks, so it's getting pretty serious.'

‘Oh.'

‘Yes, the longest I'd been out with anyone before him was seven days, and that was on holiday at Butlins. I never heard from the lad again. They can be like that, men, you know. They say women are flighty, but in my experience it's the men who are the worst.'

‘But your new one is nice…? And you've been seeing him for nearly a month…' I prompted in an encouraging tone of voice.

Wendy stepped back to look at my hair and picked up a bottle full of spray. She began to squirt my hair from all different angles. The spray smelled of petrol and stung my eyes.

‘Well I haven't actually seen him for the whole of the three and a half weeks, because he lives in Eastbourne and he only comes across at weekends, so technically speaking I've only seen him for six days.'

I didn't know what to say about that, except don't book the church.

‘There,' said Wendy. ‘All done. Now we just have to dry it.' 

She put cotton wool over my ears, and fastened the whole lot with a hairnet and then pulled the pink dryer down and slid it over my head. There was a thrumming noise and I got very hot straight away.

‘Here's the controls,' she mouthed, pressing something into my hand. ‘If its gets too hot you can turn it down.'

I couldn't see the others now because if I turned sideways all I could see was the inside of the hairdryer. If I looked out of the corner of my left eye, I could see the cafe and I wondered if Ralph and Elton were there. I wasn't going to have a chance to talk to Ralph until the reception in the Co-op hall. Mary had been invited because she was my friend and also because Rita needed her portable record player so that Clark could play records. I wasn't allowed to invite anybody else because Dad said ‘guests cost money' and money was limited, especially with Nigel having such a big family. Dad said it was bloody typical and he hoped when it was my turn I'd pick an orphan who didn't have any bloody brothers or sisters, cousins, aunties or uncles. 

Clark, he said, could invite the whole street to his wedding if he so wished because Dad wouldn't be footing the bill and Clark said no fear, he was never going to marry. 

An hour or so later, the inside of the Flick 'n' Curl had all but disappeared in a fug of cigarette smoke and hairspray. All the windows and mirrors were steamed up. Mrs Mustoe inspected us all and said: ‘Hmmm,' and got Louise and Wendy to hold hand mirrors up behind us so we could see what we looked like from the back. Mum gave them all a tip and they said: ‘Good luck!' to Rita and ‘Hope it all goes well.'

We trooped out with bright red faces and very itchy necks and it was really nice to breathe fresh air again, even though it was a freezing cold day and the wind coming off the sea was making my ears sting. Rita, me and Carol had pink plastic roses stuck in our hair, which were awfully uncomfortable, but I had to admit they looked pretty nice. Best of all, Rita looked really happy, which boded well for the rest of the day.

      When we got home, Dad and Clark were in front of the telly watching President Kennedy's assassination. Rita's face immediately fell. I think she'd forgotten about the tragedy in the excitement of being at the Flick 'n' Curl.

‘Put that off, Nelson,' said Mum. ‘It's not fitting to be watching that on Rita's wedding day.'

‘It's history,' said Dad. ‘You mark my words; people will still be talking about this fifty years from now,' but he turned it off.

 ‘Thank you, Nelson,' said Mum.

‘That's all right, love,' said Dad.

     We were all in our finery in good time to get to the church and we were all feeling quite cheerful and excited. Even Mum had had more than a nip of the sherry.

As for Clark, well I'd never seen him look so clean. In fact I'd never seen Clark look like a proper person before.

‘I feel a right plonker in this get-up,' said Dad, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

‘I think you all look very nice,' said Aunty Brenda. She popped a mint into her mouth and offered one to Mum.

Then we heard Rita's footsteps on the stairs and a hush of anticipation fell across our living room. 

The door swung open and there was a rustle and swish of fabric as Rita came into the room.

‘What do you think of your daughter, Nelson!' said Mum.

Dad looked at Rita. We all looked at Rita, who was smiling fit to burst. She was wearing a long, white dress with three-quarter-length sleeves and a sweetheart neckline. Her hair was tumbling around her face. She didn't have a veil, instead a cloak was fastened around her shoulders and a big, fake-fur-lined hood slid between her shoulder blades. She was holding a posy of winter greenery. 

Rita blinked her false eyelashes several times and Aunty Brenda said: ‘Ahhh!'

Dad swallowed. ‘She looks…' he said and then he got all choked up and couldn't carry on.

‘For heaven's sake, Dad!' said Rita.

‘Leave your dad alone,' said Mum. ‘He's feeling moved by the occasion and 

it's not often your dad gets moved. It's a very proud moment for a father when his eldest daughter gets married.'

Clark took a picture of Rita standing in between Mum and Dad, then Mum looked out of the window and squeaked and wafted her hand in front of her face a few times to cool herself down, even though the room was icy cold. She turned and said: ‘The cars are here! Come on everyone!'

She turned to Rita, and stroked her cheek. ‘You look beautiful, Rita,' she said, her eyes welling up with tears.

‘Don't you start!' said Rita.

‘She looks just as beautiful as you did on our wedding day,' said Dad.

‘I'll see you both at the church then,' said Mum, sniffing.

‘For God's sake, Mum,' said Rita. ‘Stop it. You‘ll ruin your make-up.'

‘Sorry, love,' said Mum, dabbing her eyes and spreading her mascara all

over her face.

‘Come on, our Maureen,' said Aunty Brenda, putting her arm through Mum's. ‘Gird your loins, girl. We've got a wedding to go to.'

A
fter we'd been shivering
for half an hour in the church porch, Rita and Dad finally showed up in a big black car with white ribbons on the front. I smiled at Dad and said: ‘Your hat's all wonky.' 

‘Take it off, Dad,' said Rita. ‘You're not supposed to wear it in the church.'

‘What's the point of it then?' he asked.

‘Don't start,' said Rita, sounding just like Mum.

‘I could murder a fag,' he said.

‘And I'll murder you if you have one,' said Rita.

Inside the church the music started. Me and Carol picked up the back of the dress and we all walked forward into the church.

Nigel stood at the altar looking like a rabbit caught in the headlights. He'd had his hair cut and his ears looked bigger than normal. I wondered if Rita might change her mind. I glanced around this way and that. Everyone had turned to look at us and they were all smiling. In the middle of the aisle I caught Ralph's eye and he grinned broadly and gave me the thumbs-up. He was looking very smart too. I thought he was the most handsome man in the church. I bit my lip and tried to stop smiling but I couldn't. I was the happiest girl in the world. I couldn't have been any happier if it had been my wedding day.

Everything happened very quickly. The service only seemed to last about five minutes and then Mum was crying and Nigel's mum was crying and suddenly it was all over and we were outside freezing cold again and having our photos taken by Clark.

‘Where's Dad?' asked Rita. ‘We need him for the family group.'

‘I'll look for him,' said Mum.

‘I'll come with you,' said Aunty Brenda.

‘He's having a fag with the vicar around the side,' I said.

Mum and Aunty Brenda disappeared for a moment and returned with Dad. ‘Can't you manage to behave halfway decent for one day?' Mum was shouting.

‘I was only having a fag!' said Dad. ‘I wasn't fornicating among the gravestones. Anyway, I've paid for this bloody wedding and if I want a bloody fag, I'll have a bloody fag.'

‘Have you been drinking?' demanded Aunty Brenda, peering at him closely. I thought that was a bit rich given the amount of sherry she'd got through.

‘I might have had a tot of whisky before I left home,' Dad said defensively.

‘Well, all I can say, Nelson Perks, is that it's made you very brave, so now you can just shut up and behave yourself!'

‘Sorry, Brenda,' said Dad.

‘Ok,' said Mum. ‘Now put your hat on and make Rita proud of you.'

‘Right, love,' he said.

Mum always ends up forgiving Dad. She must love him, I suppose.

The wedding reception was at the Co-op hall next to the church.

‘They've really done you proud, Maureen,' said Aunty Brenda, gazing round the room at the ribbons tied to the chairs and the balloons bobbing about at every table. ‘Who would have thought that pink and purple would have gone so well together?'

‘Rita chose the colour scheme,' said Mum with some pride.

‘I expect that comes from mixing with a higher class of people,' said Aunty Brenda.

‘Probably,' said Mum, winking at me.

Mary was there with her mum, but I didn't get much chance to talk to her because all the tables had been pushed together to make a big square with one side missing, and she was on the same side as me but there were quite a few people between us. Ralph was sitting next to me, and I was so proud of him. My aunties and uncles kept coming over and saying what a good-looking young man he was and he was charming with all of them, although I could tell he was finding all the attention a bit much. We ate cream of chicken soup, roast beef with all the trimmings and Arctic roll and then Clark played some records. Ralph and I danced to the song
Moon River
by Danny Williams and as we danced he sang the words into my hair. We were pressed up together very close and the feeling was so nice, so romantic and sexy that I could have stayed like that forever; for the rest of my life. I couldn't help thinking about all the other dances Ralph and I would have. For the second time I allowed myself a little private fantasy about the two of us being married. I imagined us choosing a song and dancing together on our anniversary every year, just Ralph and me and the music. But I couldn't dwell on this for anywhere near as long as I'd have liked to because I knew Mary was sitting at the back of the hall with her mum. After the dance, I kissed Ralph's cheek and went to sit with Mary who was looking very pretty. While we were talking, Nigel's brother came over and asked Mary to dance, and he was quite nice-looking, better than Nigel anyway, but she wouldn't. 

‘Go on,' I said. ‘Why don't you? What's wrong with him?'

‘There's nothing wrong with him, he's just not Elton is he?'

‘I suppose not,' I said. ‘I‘m sorry I couldn't invite him, but Dad was having palpitations every time someone new was added to the list.'

‘That's okay,' said Mary, ‘it will give us something to talk about when I see him.'

‘Don't you talk much then?'

‘Not a lot,' said Mary, grinning.

The day ended with all of us trooping down to the bus stop to see Rita and Nigel off on their honeymoon. They were staying in a chalet on the Isle of Wight for a week. Nigel's parents were too tipsy to come with us and Aunty Brenda said they might live in a mock-Georgian house in Acacia Drive but that our family had made the better showing.