by Kitty Neale
Sally peeped at him from the corner of her eyes, noticing that he was fighting the urge to laugh as he added, ‘And what sort of language is that, my girl?’
‘Yours, Dad,’ Ann said cheekily. ‘I’ve heard you saying it to mum when she’s rushing around.’ She dodged by him, running up the stairs, Sally in her wake, both giggling when he pretended to chase them, roaring like a lion.
They were breathless when they reached Ann’s room and collapsed onto her bed. ‘My dad’s a proper nut, isn’t he?’ Ann said, a wide smile on her face.
‘He’s lovely,’ Sally said. And he was, she thought, as long as he didn’t come too close. She was unable to bear it when men even brushed against her, glad that she didn’t have to live in a house with a father and brother like Ann. It must be awful having to avoid them all the time.
Sally hadn’t won the fancy-dress competition, but she didn’t mind. The three-year-old Mason twins, a boy and girl, had taken the first prize. They looked so sweet dressed as a King and Queen, holding hands as they paraded in their outfits, their crowns made of cardboard covered with gold paper and brightly coloured jewels, which to Sally’s disappointment on closer inspection, turned out to be wine gums.
Ann came second, dressed as Little Bo Peep, and to Sally’s delight she won the fourth prize, a book by Enid Blyton.
Now she and Ann were sitting on her doorstep, watching the men as they carried out barrels of beer in preparation for the adult party. A battered old piano had been wheeled out onto the pavement, courtesy of Mrs Edwards from number seven, and Mrs Mason’s husband had volunteered to play the mouth organ.
As Sally watched the preparations she realised how different the day would have been if her dad hadn’t gone away. Instead of joining in, she would have been stuck in her room, watching the party from her window.
‘Wasn’t it great, Sally?’ Ann said.
‘Yeah, it was, and I wish we could stay up for the adult party.’
They grimaced at each other when, as if on cue, they heard their mums calling them in. ‘It ain’t fair,’ Sally protested. ‘It’s only eight o’clock.’
‘Ann, did you hear me! I said it’s time to come in,’ Elsie shouted.
‘I’d better go,’ she said, rising slowly. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘All right,’ Sally replied, standing up too and wandering indoors, her jaw dropping when she saw her mum. Ruth looked beautiful; her newly washed hair hung in soft waves onto her shoulders, parted on one side with a Lana Turner quiff. Her blue and white floral dress was clinched in at the waist with a wide belt, and she had a lacy white cardigan slung around her shoulders.
‘Mum, you look lovely,’ Sally told her, eyes wide in wonderment.
‘Yeah, she scrubs up well, don’t she, Sal?’ her gran grinned. ‘That dress was a really good find and looks hardly worn.’
‘Thanks for knitting this cardigan, Mum. It fits a treat,’ Ruth told her. ‘Now then, Sally, get yerself ready for bed, and no arguments.’
‘But, Mum, it’s too early. Can’t I stay up for a while?’
‘No, definitely not. Yer gran’s staying in to look after you so I can go to the party, and I ain’t having you giving her a hard time.’
‘It’s all right, Ruth,’ Sadie intervened. ‘She can stay up for a while to keep me company.’
Sally hid a smile. Ever since her gran had moved in with them she had found she could play one off against the other, usually resulting in her getting her own way. ‘Please, Mum,’ she begged.
‘Oh, all right. But I want her in bed by nine o’clock, Mum.’
‘Whatever you say,’ Sadie answered, giving Sally a sly wink.
‘’Ave you had a nice day, Sal?’ her gran asked as soon as Ruth had gone to the party.
‘It was smashing. The best time I’ve ever had,’ Sally told her dreamily. ‘Everything is so different since you came to live with us, Gran. Mum’s made friends with people in the Lane and she smiles all the time now.’
‘I know, it’s good to see her so happy.’ The old lady crossed to the window, drawing the net to one side. ‘Blimey, the party’s kicked off already. Come and see this, Sal.’
Sally saw Mrs Wilson and Nelly Cox, skirts held up showing their knees as they danced, Mrs Green and a few other women joining in. Their voices were loud and she smiled as her gran joined in the song …
Any evening any day, when you come down Lambeth way, You’ll see them all – doing the Lambeth Walk.
She strained her neck, giggling when her mum strolled up and began to dance with them, ‘Oh Gran,’ she whispered happily, ‘it wouldn’t ’ave been like this if me dad was here. Mum wouldn’t ’ave dared go to the street-party. I hope he never, ever comes back.’
Chapter Fourteen
With all that had happened that year, her uncle’s assault, then her father leaving, followed by her own and her mother’s illnesses, Sally failed her eleven-plus examination. Ruth, working fulltime and coming home tired each evening, just shrugged her shoulders when she saw the results, saying little about it, much to Sally’s relief.
Ann failed too, much to her parents’ surprise and disappointment. They blamed it not only on the change of school, but on the many times she had been unable to attend due to recurring tonsillitis.
Both girls now attended the same Secondary Modern School, and as it was only a short walk from home, they settled in easily, being put in the same class.
After a couple of years they began to blossom, turning into teenagers and shedding their puppy fat. Ann, though still short like her mother, developed a large bust and narrow waist. Sally was taller and slim with a small bust that to her disgust, was just beginning to burgeon. She hated it when boys began to look at her, doing her best to hide her figure by wearing baggy blouses.
Their interests only began to differ, when at fourteen, Ann, like their other friends, became interested in boys. Pictures of her idol, Pat Boone, began to appear on her bedroom wall and she started to experiment with make-up.
Wonderful new fashions were now available, especially aimed at teenagers, and young girls no longer had to wear the same style of clothes as their mothers. Ann suited the tight sweaters and circle skirts that she had taken to wearing when out of school, complete with layered net petticoats underneath that peeped out when she sat down. Sally, however, stayed in her baggy blouses and wore mostly straight skirts, determined not to attract too much attention.
‘Come on, don’t look so pessimistic, it’ll be great,’ Ann told her as they got ready to go to the local youth club. It had taken a lot of persuasion on her part to convince Sally to go, but at last her friend had agreed.
Sally stared at her reflection in the mirror. Ann had dusted her face with powder and insisted on applying a thick coat of mascara to her eyelashes. Spitting on the block and rubbing at it vigorously with a small brush, she had carefully stroked her lashes with the resulting black gunk. Then came the lipstick, bright orange to finish off the effect.
I look like a clown, she thought, blotting her lips to remove some of the colour. Ann didn’t look much better, the make-up emphasising her squint.
As they stepped into the youth club, their ears were immediately assailed by the loud music blaring from a record player just inside the door. ‘Oh, it’s Elvis,’ Ann enthused, beginning to jig about to the strains of ‘All Shook Up’.
Sally’s heart sank when she saw Ann’s brother Arthur walking towards them from the other end of the hall, a wide smile on his face.
‘I can’t believe it,’ he said, his eyes flicking up and down over her body. ‘You look great, Sally.’
She squirmed uncomfortably. Ann had convinced her to wear one of her outfits and the stiff net petticoat scratched her legs. Her face flamed when Arthur’s eyes settled on her bust, and rounding her shoulders protectively, she wished that she was wearing her usual baggy blouse, instead of the sweater that Ann had insisted looked better with the skirt.
Turning from Arthur’s gaze she look
ed desperately at Ann, only to find her eyeing a boy who was selecting another record to put on the turntable.
As though aware of her scrutiny, he turned, his eyes quickly passing over Ann to settle on Sally. ‘Well, well, who’s this, Arthur?’ he asked, putting the record down and advancing towards them.
‘Bugger off, Billy,’ Arthur growled, putting his arm around Sally’s shoulders, his hand inadvertently brushing her breast. ‘She’s spoken for.’
Sally felt her heart thumping in her chest as panic set in. Twisting away from Arthur, she turned and fled from the hall, her heels skidding on the polished wooden floor.
‘Wait, Sally, wait!’ Ann called, rushing out after her friend. ‘What on earth’s the matter?’
‘I don’t want boys touching me,’ she gasped, her chest heaving.
‘It was only Arthur. Didn’t you realise that he fancies you, Sally? He’s had his eye on you for months.’
She stared at her friend in astonishment. ‘Fancies me?’ she squeaked. ‘No, of course I didn’t notice.’
‘Calm down, love. I know he’s huge like my dad, but he wouldn’t hurt a fly.’
‘Keep him away from me, Ann. Please … don’t let him touch me,’ she begged.
‘Christ, Sally. Take a deep breath, you’re shaking like a leaf,’ Ann urged, a puzzled expression on her face. ‘Why are you so frightened?’
‘I dunno, but tell him to leave me alone …please!’
‘All right, all right, I will. Now come on, we had better go home. We can’t go back in there now, we’ll be a laughing stock,’ she said, a hint of reproach in her voice.
‘I’m sorry, Ann. Look, you can go back in. I’m sure I saw Jenny Jackson and her friend Betty in there, so you needn’t be on yer own.’
‘Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?’
‘No, of course not. I know how much you were looking forward to it. I’ll be fine.’
‘Well, all right then,’ Ann said after a moment’s hesitation. ‘That bloke sorting the records was rather dishy, wasn’t he?’
Sally forced a smile. ‘Yeah, he looked all right. Bye, love, I’ll see you tomorrow,’ she called, moving off hurriedly, not giving Ann a chance to change her mind.
Ann watched her friend until she was out of sight then, shrugging her shoulders, she stepped back into the hall.
‘What’s the matter with Sally? Did I do something wrong?’ Arthur asked. ‘Isn’t she coming back in?’
‘No, she’s gone home,’ his sister told him brusquely. ‘She isn’t interested in you, Arthur, so keep your hands to yourself and leave her alone in future.’
‘I only put my arm around her shoulders,’ he replied indignantly as Jenny Jackson ambled up towards them.
‘Wotcher, Ann,’ she said. ‘Why did Sally leave in such a hurry?’
‘She wasn’t feeling well,’ Ann lied.
‘It looked more like she was running away from you, Arthur,’ Jenny said, hooking her arm through his. ‘Don’t yer know she ain’t interested in boys? Maybe she prefers girls, if you know what I mean,’ she sniggered.
‘Well, that’s her loss, isn’t it,’ he said, shrugging his arm out of Jenny’s grasp, his eyes on the other end of the hall. ‘Right – it looks like it’s my turn on the billiard table,’ he added, walking off, his shoulders stiff.
‘Cor, your brother’s gorgeous, Ann. Can’t yer put a word in for me?’ Jenny urged.
‘If you keep throwing yourself at him like that, I won’t need to,’ she snapped. ‘And in future keep your snide remarks about Sally to yourself.’
‘I was only joking, yer silly cow,’ Jenny retorted, and turning around she sashayed up to Billy who had returned to the record-player, her hips swaying suggestively.
Ann watched his eyes light up as Jenny approached him, and her heart sank. She was stupid, stupid! What chance did she have against someone who looked like Jenny? She turned away from the scene, and seeing that Betty was on her own, decided to join her.
Walking towards her she passed a group of boys lounging against the wall, and they all turned to look at her. One of them whispered something and they roared with laughter, another replying, ‘Yeah, you’re right, she’s got a good figure, but you’d have to put a bag over her head to cover those weird eyes.’
Ann felt herself redden and her shoulders hunched. Stricken, she turned on her heels, scurrying back down the hall and out of the door.
Why had she expected it to be any different? Just because she had put make-up on and worn nice clothes, it didn’t change anything. It was always the same – one look at her eyes and boys dissolved into laughter. Oh it wasn’t fair, it really wasn’t. Why couldn’t she look normal like other girls?
As she turned the corner into Candle Lane, she wasn’t surprised to see Sally sitting on her doorstep, and drawing near, forced a smile.
‘Are you all right?’ Sally asked. ‘I had a funny feeling about you on the way home so I thought I’d wait outside for a while, just in case.’
‘You always seem to know when I’m upset. It was just some of the boys in the youth club, taking the mickey out of my eyes as usual.’ She sighed heavily. ‘You’d think I’d be used to it by now, wouldn’t you?’
Sally smiled consolingly as she gazed at her friend, her eyes slightly unfocused. ‘Ann, your mum is going to start teaching me to read auras next week. Would you let me practise on you? You never know, I might be able to find out what’s wrong with your eyes.’
‘You already know what’s wrong with them, Sally. They’re crossed, and nothing can be done about it. Mum took me to a specialist years ago, and he told her that the damage is permanent.’
‘Please, Ann, it won’t hurt to try.’
‘Oh, all right then, but it won’t do any good,’ she insisted.
Sally focused on Ann’s eyes again. There was something wrong, she could sense it. But what?
Chapter Fifteen
The following Easter, 1958, when both Sally and Ann were fifteen, they left school, delighted at the thought of going to work. Wrapped warmly against the sharp wind they were now hurrying along the main road.
‘I can’t believe it, Ann! Fancy us both getting jobs in Arding & Hobbs.’
‘Yes, but you’re lucky – at least in the record department you’ll be able to listen to the Top Twenty all day. Me, all I’ll be doing is washing hair and sweeping up.’
‘But, Ann, you’ll be learning a trade. Think about when you’re a fully qualified hairdresser.’
‘Huh, that’s years away yet and I’m getting paid a pittance in the meantime. I wish I was earning as much as you.’
‘I’m only getting two pounds ten, and after giving me mum two pounds, I’ll just have ten bob left.’
‘But that’s not fair,’ her friend objected, her voice indignant.
‘Me mum needs the money, Ann. It’s been hard on her for the last five years. She’s had to bring me up on her own with just her wage and a bit of gran’s pension money.’ Shrugging she added, ‘I’ll manage. I got me uniform on tick and I’ll take a packed lunch each day.’
Ann grabbed her arm excitedly as they neared the entrance. They didn’t start work until the end of April, but they couldn’t resist having a look around the Department Store. Pushing open the large glass doors they found themselves in the perfume and make-up department, their noses wrinkling with delight as they sniffed the air, heavy with a combination of expensive aromas. Beautifully made-up sales assistants stood behind each counter, and seeing their sophisticated and haughty faces, both girls looked at them in awe, too frightened to approach them.
‘Come on, Sally. Let’s go and look at the record department,’ Ann suggested.
‘Yeah, all right.’
They eagerly passed through the electrical department, not interested in the display of gramophones, televisions and radios, and stepping down a short flight of stairs, entered the small but busy area tucked at the back of the store. There were several racks of LPs, a few listening booths, but
other than that, just a long counter.
‘It’s a bit small really,’ Sally said, unable to hide the hint of disappointment in her voice.
‘It’s all right,’ Ann placated, giving her a nudge. ‘Look at those boys buying records. You’ll meet loads of blokes in here.’
Sally grimaced, feeling uncomfortable at the attention they were receiving from a group of teddy boys. They had their hair slicked back with Brylcreem, leaving a quiff hanging low over their foreheads, and wore long jackets with tight drainpipe trousers. Crepe-soled shoes completed the look, and as one of them grinned at her she tugged Ann’s arm, urging, ‘Come on, let’s go to the hairdressing department.’
With a quick glance over her shoulder and receiving a cheeky wink from one of them, Ann reluctantly followed Sally to the escalator. Stepping onto the slowly moving staircase they passed fashions on the first floor, furniture, household and bedding on the second, before reaching the third.
Losing their way slightly they followed the signs until they came upon a lush area, deeply carpeted, with a small counter beside a curtained section. ‘Hairdressing’s through that curtain,’ Ann whispered. ‘I was shown around after my interview and the manager told me that his customers want privacy when they’re having their hair done. This is just the waiting room.’
Sally saw white wicker chairs, small glass tables topped with magazines, and huge pictures of glamorous models with the latest hairstyles, displayed on walls painted a soft shade of lavender. The whole department appeared uncluttered, calm and elegant. ‘It’s lovely,’ she breathed.
‘Yes, it’s nice isn’t it?’ Ann whispered back. ‘But come on, let’s go, I don’t want them to see me hanging about. Let’s go across to Woolworth’s. I need a new lipstick and somehow I don’t think the make-up department in here will stock Gala.’
When they returned home, Sally sat in front of the dressing-table mirror applying a coat of Ann’s new lipstick. ‘Does it look all right?’ she asked as her friend came to stand behind her.