Big Dreams for the West End Girls

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Big Dreams for the West End Girls Page 14

by Elaine Roberts


  ‘I’m Penny.’ She glanced up at the ceiling before looking back at Annie. ‘Well, actually, it’s Penelope Cooper, but I prefer Penny.’

  ‘I’m Annie, Annie Cradwell.’

  Penny frowned. ‘I know who you are. You’re the talk of the dressing room.’

  Annie shook her head. ‘That doesn’t sound good but I’m not aware that I have done anything to be the subject of gossip, and if people want to know anything they should just ask me.’

  Penny wiped away the tears that were drying on her face. ‘In my experience you don’t always have to do anything.’

  Annie could feel herself drawn to her. ‘You know, we can read the lines together.’

  ‘Why would you do that? If Mr Tyler sacks me tomorrow you’ll probably get the part.’

  Annie raised her eyebrows and took a step nearer. ‘Maybe, but as I’ve already said, I don’t want something by hurting or trampling on someone else, and that includes you.’

  Penny nodded. ‘It might help me to read with someone. I’ve read the script so many times but I just can’t seem to remember it, and it’s not as though I have a huge part.’

  Annie’s heart sang. ‘When you’ve finished on stage we’ll sit down somewhere and go through it together.’

  Penny took a deep breath. ‘Thank you, and I’m sorry for the things that I said.’

  ‘Never be sorry for telling the truth.’

  9

  Joyce scraped the butter over the thin slice of hot toasted bread and cut it into soldiers before lining them up on a tea plate next to the boiled egg. ‘There you go, Philip, get that into yer. We’ll have a long day today.’ Her mind wandered to the chest that had arrived with him. She had planned to open it before going to work, but it had taken longer to get Philip ready than she thought it would. Joyce thought how silent he’d been when she went into his bedroom that morning. Philip was still lying in bed and didn’t get up until she pulled back the bedclothes and discovered he was soaking wet again. She had filled the tin bath with warm water while he stripped his pyjamas off, and then she helped him sit in the bath with a bar of carbolic soap. Joyce stripped the bed and left them soaking in the bath water until she got home later. She had tried to reassure him that everything was going to be all right but he said nothing and his wide eyes had just followed her around the room.

  Her shoulders slumped. She would need to make more time in the mornings now she had Philip to get ready as well, especially if his bedwetting was a daily occurrence. It had only been a few days but Joyce had hoped it would stop once he got to know them all. Biting down on her lip, she wondered how she was going to cope with everything, while equally wanting to know what had happened to his family but she knew it would be wrong to ask him. The clanging of the teaspoon against the inside of the teapot pulled Joyce away from her thoughts.

  Annie picked up the teapot and began pouring the strong hot tea into the china cups. ‘I’ll let you all put your own sugar in.’ She passed the cups around the kitchen table, starting with Arthur. ‘I quite like having breakfast in the kitchen; it reminds me of home.’

  Arthur took the cup and saucer and placed it down in front of him. ‘Your ma created a lovely welcoming home, Annie, and your father is doing his best to carry on with that.’

  Annie smiled. ‘Thank goodness Auntie Dot is there looking after them; otherwise I couldn’t be here.’

  ‘There’s no need to worry. They were fine when I was last up there.’ Arthur turned to watch Philip timidly pick up a finger of bread. ‘Philip, have you ever been to a farm before, or maybe to a house that’s surrounded by fields?’

  Philip held his bread mid-air and silently shook his head.

  ‘Maybe, with Joyce’s agreement, I could take you to the village and you can experience running free and climbing trees. You could help Annie’s father feed the chickens and collect eggs every day.’

  Philip’s eyes widened but he still remained silent.

  Joyce frowned, wondering if he knew what Arthur was talking about. ‘It’s too soon to be talking about him going somewhere else. He needs to settle in here first and get used to us all.’

  Arthur nodded, picking up his cup and taking a sip of tea.

  Rose glanced across at Joyce. ‘You all right?’

  Joyce gave a faint smile. ‘Of course, I just have a lot going on. I don’t want to be late again today.’

  Rose nudged Joyce’s arm. ‘You should get going then.’

  Arthur looked up from his breakfast and opened his mouth to speak but closed it again.

  ‘Of course, I don’t want Simon’s sister thinking I can’t get in on time. Although it’s meant to be me running the café, well with his sister, Barbara, helping. She said her mother offered to come in and help with the washing up and clearing the tables.’

  Rose smiled. ‘That’s good isn’t it?’

  Joyce bit her lip. ‘Except, I don’t think Barbara likes me very much.’

  Arthur reached out and tapped Joyce’s hand. ‘Well, it’s good they are helping; you struggled when it was just you and Simon and you both knew what you were doing.’

  Joyce looked at the others. ‘Arthur was a great help yesterday, which was appreciated. He did a lot of washing up when he made the mistake of coming in for something to eat.’

  Annie held up her hand. ‘Hang up, just go back a stage. Are you saying Simon has gone already?’

  ‘Yes.’ Joyce could feel the tears stinging in her eyes. She gripped the knife handle. ‘He asked me to marry him—’

  ‘That’s wonderful news. Why haven’t you told us?’ Rose clapped her hands together.

  Joyce glanced up at the three faces staring at her. ‘Because I said no.’

  ‘What?’ They all spoke as one.

  Philip screwed up his face and stared at them in turn.

  Rose clasped Joyce’s arm. ‘I don’t understand. Why? It’s not as though you don’t love him.’

  Joyce shook her head as her tears began to fall. ‘I do but everything that has happened lately has caught me by surprise and his proposal was just the last straw, and anyway he probably only proposed to keep me at the café.’

  Rose and Annie stared at one another.

  Annie shook her head. ‘If you think so little of him it’s just as well you said no. Does his family know he proposed?’

  ‘Of course I don’t; I’ve regretted it ever since. I didn’t know they were going to be practically the last words I said to him, but that’s something I have to live with.’ Joyce wiped away her tears. ‘And if his family do know they’re not saying anything to me.’ She pushed her uneaten egg to one side. Picking up her cup she gulped down the lukewarm tea. Wrinkling her nose, she replaced the cup on its matching saucer. She peered at Philip. The thud of his feet hitting the rung of the wooden chair irritated her but she resisted saying something to him. ‘Come on, eat up.’

  Rose shook her head. ‘Joyce, this isn’t over. We will talk about it later. I can’t believe you turned him down.’

  Joyce ignored Rose and kept her eyes fixed on Philip. ‘Don’t you like eggs?’

  Philip stared wide-eyed at her.

  Joyce suddenly realised she shouldn’t be getting upset and discussing these things in front of him. ‘Don’t be afraid, Philip, I just need to know because I’ll give you something else for breakfast tomorrow if you don’t like them.’

  Philip didn’t speak but picked up his teaspoon and dug into the white of his egg.

  Joyce nodded; she would have to accept that for the time being. ‘Well, Philip, you’ve only got a few minutes and then we have to go to the café. Perhaps we’ll take some paper and pencils and you can draw some pictures for us.’ She stood up and began clearing the table.

  Annie reached out to Joyce. ‘Leave it, I can do it. I don’t have to be at the theatre until lunchtime.’ She paused. ‘In fact if you want to leave Philip with me I can drop him off to you on my way.’

  Joyce stared down at the table and bit her bottom lip. ‘No
, Philip is my responsibility and I have to make it work.’ She picked up her teacup and plate and took them over to the sink.

  Annie shook her head. ‘But you’re not on your own. We need to talk about this because you’re surrounded by people who love you and can help.’

  ‘Come on, Philip, I’m already late. I don’t want to give Barbara an excuse to report back that I can’t manage.’

  Rose sighed. ‘It’s not over, Joyce. We will talk about all this later.’

  Philip scraped his chair back on the tiled floor and jumped down from the table.

  The clock in the hall chimed eight times. Joyce gasped. ‘Come on, Philip, we’re going to have to run up the road at this rate.’ She frowned at the dirty breakfast dishes. ‘I’ll have to do them later.’

  Annie jumped up. ‘Stop fussing, Joyce, we’re all quite capable. It’s not your place to look after us all. Now get yourself to work.’

  Joyce scowled but knew she didn’t have time to talk about it and a few minutes later she was pulling the front door closed. The cold March winds cut through her coat and whipped across her face. They turned on to Great Earl Street. The market stalls were already set up, the stallholders trying to sell their wares to every passer-by.

  ‘Hey, Joyce,’ a voice rang out over the other stallholders.

  Joyce stopped and glanced round. She knew that voice anywhere. She rested her hand between Philip’s shoulder blades and guided him towards Peter’s stall. Peter’s dog, Russell, came bounding towards Joyce, but stopped as he got close to Philip, who was hiding behind her skirt.

  ‘I haven’t seen you for ages. Have you been going a different route to work? You’re not avoiding me are you?’

  Joyce gave a faint smile. ‘Of course not. I’m just always in a hurry these days.’ She half turned to look at the top of Philip’s head. ‘This is Philip. He has been put into my care for the foreseeable future.’

  Peter frowned. His gaze passed between Joyce and Philip. ‘My, that’s a big responsibility, I have loads of questions but this probably isn’t the right time to ask.’ Peter stooped down. ‘Hello, Philip.’ He stretched out his hand. ‘It’s very nice to meet yer, although I feel sure I’ve seen yer before.’ Peter laughed. ‘I don’t forget a face so I’m sure it will come to me eventually.’

  Philip gingerly placed his hand in Peter’s and they shook.

  ‘Let me give you some fruit to take with you. Joyce is always telling me off for giving it away but I think you deserve some.’

  Joyce glanced down. ‘Say thank you, Philip.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Joyce had the urge to cry at the sound of his little timid voice, and once again she wondered what had happened to him.

  Arthur’s deep voice carried over the crowds. ‘Joyce?’

  Joyce spun on her heels; her stomach lurched into her mouth. ‘Arthur, what is it? Has something happened?’

  Arthur put his hands on his thighs as he bent over gasping for air. After a moment he stood upright. ‘Sorry, I’m not as fit as I used to be.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Leave Philip with me. You’re going to have enough to deal with today.’

  *

  Annie and Rose ambled along Great Earl Street, stopping to look at some of the flowers that were being thrust at them by a stooped old lady.

  Rose pulled her woollen scarf tighter around her neck. ‘You should be at home keeping warm in this cold weather.’

  The old lady gave them a smile. ‘I gotta sell me flowers, lovey, so I can eat tonight.’

  Annie stopped to sniff the floral scent of the small bunches of daffodils and heathers. ‘They smell lovely but unfortunately we’re on our way to work.’ She tilted her head one side. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘I’ve always loved the spring flowers, the first burst of colour after the greyness of winter.’ Rose leant in to examine them. ‘Perhaps we should buy a bunch for Joyce.’

  ‘The trouble is we’re going to work and they’ll be fit for nothing by the time we get them home.’

  Rose frowned. ‘I suppose. Sorry we can’t, not today anyway.’

  They carried on strolling down the road until Peter’s fruit and vegetable stall came into view. Russell spotted them in the crowd and came running towards them. He nestled his wet nose in the palm of Annie’s gloved hand. She promptly made a fuss of him, stroking his soft fur.

  Peter’s voice carried through the air. ‘It seems like ages since I last saw you.’

  Annie blushed. ‘Sorry, we’ve just been really busy at work – you know, a new play and Rose has been sewing the new costumes. To be honest, it’s all a bit frantic.’

  Peter nodded. ‘As long as you haven’t forgotten me. You two have become indispensable by the sounds of things.’ He smiled at Annie before turning to Rose. ‘Have you seen Charlie Young lately?’

  Rose blushed. ‘Not recently, for all the same reasons that Annie has said.’ She paused. Panic flew across her face. ‘I hope he doesn’t think I’ve gone off him.’

  Peter shook his head. ‘I shouldn’t think so, Rose. I get the impression he’s besotted with you.’

  Her blush deepened. She fought the urge to fan herself.

  Peter chuckled. ‘I’ll tell you what, why don’t we have a double date on Sunday? At least that’s one day none of us have to work.’

  Rose and Annie both grinned.

  ‘Right, leave it with me and I’ll have a chat with Charlie.’

  Annie’s smiled faded a little. ‘Wait, what about Joyce?’

  Peter smiled. ‘Well, she can come too if she really wants to. I suppose she could invite Simon along.’

  Rose’s smile disappeared. ‘Simon’s enlisted, and Joyce—’

  ‘Don’t tell everyone Joyce’s business. You know she wouldn’t like it,’ Annie interrupted.

  Rose scowled at Annie. ‘Peter’s her friend. Remember how they hugged in the street when we arrived in London?’

  Annie nodded.

  Rose returned her attention back to Peter. ‘Simon’s gone off to war but before he went he proposed and she turned him down.’

  Peter looked astounded at them. ‘What?’

  Annie shook her head. ‘I know, it’s how we all feel but I think at the time she was overwhelmed with things being laid at her door.’

  Rose frowned. ‘She hasn’t said so but I get the impression she thinks her life is unravelling, and she’s not accepting any help from us.’

  Peter looked from one to the other. ‘What has happened? I met Philip earlier. Where has he appeared from?’

  Annie looped her arm through his. ‘That’s just it – no one knows. All we know is her grandmother is dying and she’s told a solicitor that Joyce has to look after him but she doesn’t know any more than that.’

  Peter scowled. ‘Poor Joyce.’

  Annie squeezed his arm. ‘There’s more than that. It seems her uncle Arthur isn’t really her uncle; apparently she doesn’t have any uncles.’

  Peter’s eyes widened. ‘How did she find that out?’

  Someone bumped into Rose, jerking her forward. Frowning, she looked over her shoulder before glancing back at Peter. ‘She had to go and see a solicitor. That’s when she was told about Philip as well.’

  Annie stroked Peter’s arm. ‘So when Simon decided to tell her he was enlisting and on top of that proposed to her, I don’t think she could cope with it all.’

  Rose scuffed the toe of her shoe on the road. ‘She regrets it now.’

  Peter looked stunned. ‘I should have checked when I didn’t see her.’ He shook his head. ‘I haven’t been much of a friend.’

  Annie shook his arm. ‘Don’t say that. We live with Joyce but she’s not very forthcoming with her problems. Even this morning we offered to help with Philip, and the washing up, but she thinks everything is her responsibility, that it’s her duty to look after us all. We need to step up because I don’t think she looks too good.’

  Rose pursed her lips. ‘Maybe it’s her mother in her.’

  ‘R
ight.’ Peter tapped Annie’s hand. ‘I’ll speak to Charlie later and arrange for us to go out on Sunday and I shall rely on you to bring Joyce and Philip with you.’ He smiled. ‘Stop on your way to work tomorrow and I’ll confirm time and place with you then.’

  The girls beamed at him, relieved at having a plan, no matter how small.

  ‘I’ve got to get back to work but we all need to start being better friends towards her now, when she needs us the most, whether she likes it or not.’ Peter peered down at Russell, who was leaning against Annie’s leg having his neck scratched. ‘Come on, boy, we’ve got to get back to work before Harry starts complaining about us leaving him to it.’ He leant forward and gave Annie a peck on the cheek.

  Annie’s colour rose. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing you properly on Sunday.’

  Peter’s love was all over his face for her to see. ‘Perhaps we should set aside every Sunday; otherwise before you know it a month has gone and then another.’

  Annie smiled. ‘Let’s do that.’

  Peter leant in and let his soft lips skim hers.

  Annie closed her eyes. Her heart jumped in her chest and her stomach seemed to be doing somersaults as he pulled away.

  ‘I’m sorry, I must go.’

  Rose giggled. ‘Yeah, get back to work. This is embarrassing for us gooseberries, and we’ve got to get to work too.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Rose.’ Annie’s face flushed with colour. ‘Come on, let’s go.’

  *

  An overpowering smell of disinfectant greeted Joyce as she stepped nervously inside St Thomas’ Hospital. She was glad to be inside away from the cold air that numbed her face. Removing her woollen hat and scarf, Joyce looked around her. She had been overwhelmed by its size standing outside, but had fought the urge to run away; after all her grandmother won’t know whether she’d visited or not. Many people walked past her, some talking in low voices.

  ‘Do you need help?’

  Joyce spun on her heels to see a young nurse smiling at her.

  ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to alarm you, but you looked lost.’

  Joyce nodded, opening her mouth to speak but stopping short as a man caught her eye in the distance. There was something about the way he held himself that looked familiar.

 

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