by Cathy Sharp
He couldn’t think how for a minute, then he looked at the red scratch on his hand and smiled. Yes, that was clever. People thought he was stupid, but he knew more than they thought, and he could do things when he wanted to – and he knew just how to get his own back on that Mary Ellen and the rest of them. He would go to the pictures with that Miss Angela and his sister on Saturday, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do what he wanted and get his own back on all the others … but he’d be careful until then, because if they didn’t go on the treat Nancy would be cross.
‘Oh, Miss Angela, I did enjoy that,’ Nancy said as they left the Regal cinema together that Saturday after seeing John Wayne in A Lady Takes a Chance. ‘He was so handsome and she was such fun.’ She glanced at her brother. ‘Did you enjoy it, Terry?’
‘The cowboy bit was good,’ Terry said, ‘but the girl was soppy. I’d like to be a cowboy and carry a gun like he did.’ He went through the shooting motion, pointing an imaginary gun at Angela. ‘Bang, you’re dead!’
‘That’s not very nice, Terry, after Miss Angela took us to see the film,’ Nancy said, but Angela laughed.
‘Terry is just pretending. I’m sure he enjoyed it as much as we did, Nancy. Now who wants to go to Lyons and have some lemonade and cream cakes?’
‘I do,’ Terry said, and grinned at her. ‘You’re all right, really, miss. It were good. I’ve never seen nothin’ like it – can we come again?’
‘One day,’ Angela said. ‘Next Saturday I’m taking some children to the zoo – I expect you could come too, both of you, if you would like?’
‘I don’t like animals,’ Terry said, his good humour disappearing. ‘They bite and scratch.’
‘Dogs and cats don’t seem to like Terry,’ Nancy said, and frowned. ‘These animals are big ones, Terry, and they’re shut up in cages.’
‘Don’t want to see them.’ His scowl deepened. ‘Don’t like things locked up.’
‘Well, you don’t have to come,’ Angela said. ‘Forget about the zoo, Terry. Let’s go and have our tea.’
Angela led the way to the Lyons’ Corner House and they went inside. Most of the tables were occupied and the waitresses scurried about in their little black uniforms and white caps and aprons. The chattering was loud, but Angela made herself heard above the hubbub and they were led to a table in the corner, where they could look out of the window at the busy street. A tram was clanging in the distance and the road teemed with buses, trucks, cars, vans and bikes, but a dray cart pulled by big shire horses seemed to be clogging the traffic at one point so that the confusion was total as a policeman blew his whistle and made frantic signals until things started to move again.
Nancy was clearly excited, looking about her with interest as the girls rushed here and there with their trays piled with food, cups, saucers and teapots. One came up to them and Angela gave the order; tea for herself, ice cream and lemonade for Terry and Nancy and a plate of cakes to share.
‘Do you think I could get a job working here?’ Nancy asked as the girl went off.
‘I think you have to be lucky to be taken on here,’ Angela told her. ‘There’s a lot of competition for jobs at Lyons – I’ve heard they’re very strict and it’s hard work. One girl from St Saviour’s did get taken on in the kitchens before Christmas, but you need to be eighteen before you can apply to be a waitress. You might get that kind of work elsewhere in a year or two, if you wished … but Lyons is more particular.’
‘You don’t want to work here, Nance,’ Terry said. ‘When I’m a tram driver you can live with me and I’ll look after you.’
‘I should like to work here,’ Nancy said, ignoring her brother. ‘One day I will – even if I have to work somewhere else first.’
‘Well, that is a good dream to have,’ Angela told her. ‘Ah, here are our cakes and drinks. Now, Terry, which would you like, we’ve got battenburg, rock cakes and fruit cake? I only want one small piece of fruit cake; you two can share the others.’ She couldn’t resist smiling as Nancy and Terry dived in like starving animals. She knew there was no replacement for a real home and family, but little trips like this gave the children a lift − Mark was right when he said children from deprived areas needed to have their minds opened to what the world could be like − she was glad they’d come.
TWENTY-SIX
‘Have you finished polishing the front room?’ Sally’s mother asked her that Sunday morning. ‘If you have, you can set the table with your granny’s best linen tablecloth – and make sure you rub the cutlery well. It might only be silver plate but it belonged to my great-grandmother and it still looks like new.’
‘That’s because it is new; we never use it,’ Sally’s father chimed in. ‘I don’t know why you’re making all this fuss, love. Anyone would think it was royalty coming to lunch.’
‘Well, he isn’t far off, is he?’ Mrs Rush snapped back. ‘A surgeon and an author … he’ll think he’s landed in a foreign country if I entertain him at the kitchen table.’
‘Mum,’ Sally said, feeling all knotted up inside and uncomfortable. She almost wished she hadn’t asked Andrew to lunch, but he’d wanted to get to know her parents and her father had insisted she invite him and her mother hadn’t stopped fussing since. She hadn’t been able to get hold of a piece of roasting beef, but she had managed to buy the ingredients for a steak and kidney pie. Knowing how light and delicious her mother’s pastry was, Sally was sure that Andrew would enjoy his meal. There were just two courses, the meat pie and vegetables followed by spotted dick and custard. It was the kind of hearty meal they often had in the Rush household but Sally wondered if Andrew would be able to eat such heavy fare. ‘Andrew isn’t a bit stuck-up and I’m sure he wouldn’t want you to go to a lot of trouble.’
‘Well, he’ll have a good tasty dinner in this house, but nothing fancy. He’ll just have to make do like the rest of the country, though I don’t doubt that the toffs all manage to eat better than we do.’
Sally knew that Andrew would have been happy with something simple, but she hadn’t dared to object to her mother’s menu. She knew that her mother had gone along with this invitation only because Sally’s father had insisted on it, and there was no sense in provoking an argument for nothing.
Sally helped her mother in the kitchen as much as she could and then went upstairs to change into a pretty dress, but not one that Angela had given her. She kept those for the occasions when she and Andrew went somewhere special, though her mother frequently disapproved of what she called ‘showiness’.
‘Why you need clothes like that I don’t know,’ she’d told Sally more than once. ‘If your own aren’t good enough for him, you should consider if he’s the right person to be stepping out with, Sally.’
‘We go to some posh places, Mum. I wear the clothes for myself, so that I feel comfortable – Andrew thinks I’m beautiful in my uniform at work.’
‘Well, at least one of you has some sense.’
That didn’t mean that her mother approved of Andrew. She accepted that he was a decent, dedicated man, but that didn’t make him right for her daughter. Sally knew that her mother was trying to safeguard her, but she didn’t understand that they were in love.
‘We love each other, Mum. I don’t know why you’re so against Andrew,’ she said when told to keep an eye on the dinner while she changed into a clean dress.
‘It’s not that I have anything against him, Sally,’ her mother replied. ‘You haven’t thought things through yet, love. You want to be a nurse. You’ve wanted it for ages – and you wouldn’t be happy staying at home with a brood of children round your skirts. You deserve more from life than I’ve had.’
‘Aren’t you happy, Mum?’
‘Yes, happy making do with little and scrubbing floors for a living to make ends meet, but we’re not talking about me. This is your future – the future you’ve been planning for ages. What has all the saving and night school been about if you’re just going to give up the idea and get married? M
e and your dad want more for you than that.’
‘I don’t want to get married for a while,’ Sally said, and saw a look of satisfaction in her mother’s eyes. ‘But I do love Andrew and when I marry … it will probably be him, if he asks me.’
‘Hasn’t he then?’
‘Not really … just vague hints about where we’ll live, things like that …’
‘He’ll want a nice house in the suburbs with a garden for the children and he’ll want you to stay at home and give up your nursing.’
Sally didn’t answer. She couldn’t deny that assertion because she knew it was exactly what Andrew had in mind. He’d mentioned it once or twice in passing, when they’d been kissing or just sitting together in his car somewhere secluded. He’d driven her out of the city a couple of times, for lunch at a nice pub by the river, and they’d gone for walks, holding hands. Sally sensed that Andrew was getting close to a proposal but hoped he would wait for a while.
At Christmas he’d given her a pretty gold locket on a chain, which she wore next to her skin under her uniform, and visibly when they went out together. She’d half-thought he might give her a ring then, but thankfully he hadn’t – because her parents would never have agreed to an early marriage without even getting to know him. She guessed that Andrew was hoping this lunch would bring the day closer when he could speak to her father, but Sally had an awful feeling it might not help their cause – it might even make things worse.
Sally was certain in her own mind and heart that she loved him, but her mother was right in saying that she couldn’t just throw her hard work away in order to get married and settle down. She was young yet and if she were honest, Sally wanted to experience the excitement of becoming a nurse – the training with other girls of her age, the exams and the pleasure of putting on her nurse’s cap and knowing she’d earned the right. Surely Andrew wouldn’t expect her to give that up before she’d even had a chance to prove what she could do …
‘And where did you go for your holiday last summer?’ Andrew asked Sally’s mother politely as they all sat round the table eating the delicious pie she’d prepared. The pastry just crumbled in the mouth and Sally knew she’d done her best to make things nice for Andrew, even if she didn’t approve.
‘Holidays aren’t something we’ve had much of recently. What with the war, then work being thin on the ground for Mr Rush and it’s been tough round here for us ordinary folk.’ She pursed her lips and gave Andrew Markham a pointed look.
Sally’s father came to the rescue. ‘Come on now, love, things aren’t that bad. We had a week in Southend, didn’t we?’ Sally’s mother frowned at her husband but nodded reluctantly.
‘Of course, it’s been a rough few years for many.’ Andrew nodded in understanding. ‘I see it all the time at the hospital. I’m not one for holidays myself, I only popped up to stay with my friend Henry Fitzhugh on his estate in the Highlands,’ he added. ‘They have acres of mountainous land, which is only fit for the deer and some Longhorn cattle. I enjoy a spot of salmon fishing when I can get it – and if you catch something you can eat it.’ He looked enquiringly at Mr Rush. ‘Do you fish, sir?’
‘No, I’ve never had the time or the inclination,’ Sally’s father said, knotting his brow slightly. ‘I dare say it’s nice up there?’
‘Yes, beautiful in the summer and autumn, but a bit chilly in the winter,’ Andrew replied easily. ‘You mustn’t think I often indulge myself. Most of my time is given to work – and then there’s my aunt. I visit her in the country when I can.’
‘No doubt she has a big house?’ Sally’s mother said.
‘Well, it has four bedrooms, but it isn’t excessive, nothing like Henry’s draughty old castle,’ Andrew said and laughed. ‘Don’t imagine the Fitzhugh family are wealthy, Mrs Rush. Henry has to wring a living out of his land – and that castle is nowhere near as warm and comfortable as your home.’ He looked around the dining room of the Rush family’s new council house.
Sally saw her mother and father exchange a look at this.
‘Well, we think we’ve been fortunate since the council condemned the slum we used to live in; we’re one of the lucky families. Some folk are still waiting for new homes and are stuck in those flimsy prefabs.’ She stood up. ‘If everyone has finished, I’ll clear this and bring in the pudding – it’s spotted dick with custard, Mr Markham. The men in my family have always been big eaters – they work hard with their hands, you see. It’s what we’re used to.’
‘Please, call me Andrew. I loved spotted dick and custard when I was at school,’ he said politely, but Sally could tell that he couldn’t face another heavy plateful of food after all that pie. ‘Just a very small piece for me, please. I’m rather full after that delicious pie.’
Glancing at his plate, which her mother had piled high with pie, carrots, cabbage and boiled onions, she saw that Andrew had left some of the pastry and most of the cabbage. At once she knew that her mother had taken it as an affront, even though she’d given him more than she would normally serve her husband after a day spent working. No one else’s plate had been piled quite as high and Sally was embarrassed. Perhaps the food hadn’t been to his taste and he was probably used to much smaller portions. As it was, he’d done the best he could.
‘If you’re not hungry just have tea,’ she said, smiling at him. ‘I’m going to – I couldn’t possibly eat anything else just yet, Mum.’
‘I’m not bothered myself, love,’ Sally’s father said, and received a glare from his wife. ‘Why don’t you save it for supper and we’ll just have a cuppa?’ He smiled at Sally. ‘Help your mother clear the table and make the tea, Sally. I’ll have a drop more of the excellent wine Mr Markham brought us – and I’d like to hear a bit more about this place in Scotland.’
Sally shot her father a look of pure gratitude. It wasn’t the first time he’d intervened during the difficult time since Andrew arrived, bearing a bottle of good burgundy, a box of milk chocolates for her mother and flowers for Sally. Wine was something they’d never had at home before and chocolates were still like gold dust due to the continuing rationing of sugar. Her father was enjoying the wine, probably a bit too much for her mother’s liking. It was something else for her to be resentful of and it seemed there was no pleasing her. Sally gathered up several plates and took them into the kitchen.
‘Mum, don’t be offended. The meal was lovely, but there was rather a lot. No one can manage a pudding …’
‘Oh, I dare say he would have eaten a coffee mousse or a soufflé …’
‘Please, don’t be upset. Dad seems to like him.’
‘Your father can be a soft fool, especially where you’re concerned.’
‘He’s interested in hearing what Andrew has to say …’
‘And I’m not?’ Her mother glared at her. ‘You’re trying to mix oil and water, Sally, and no good will come of it – just be warned. I dare say it all seems glamorous now, but wait until you’ve been married for a while and the gloss wears off. You’ll feel awkward with his friends and family – and you’ll hate holidays in the wilds of Scotland fishing. You’re a town girl, Sally, an East Ender – and you’ll be miserable anywhere else. You should wait, just for a year or so, and see how you feel, that’s all I’m saying.’
‘Please, Mum, try to like him, for my sake?’
‘I never said I didn’t like him. He’s good-looking, generous and polite – but he’s not our sort and if you marry him you’ll break the family apart.’ Her mother’s face was set and Sally could see there’d be no persuading her otherwise for now.
‘I’m sorry about Mum,’ Sally said when she and Andrew took a little walk after lunch. It was cold but they were both wrapped up warm and it was nice just strolling through streets that were much less busy than they were in the week. ‘She’s used to my father and brother …’
‘You don’t have to apologise for anything,’ Andrew said, and smiled warmly at her. ‘I’ve never tasted a better steak and kidney pie. I
’m sorry I couldn’t finish it all, but she did give me rather a lot.’
‘Too much,’ Sally said, hugging his arm. But of course the day-to-day vegetable dishes they normally used were chipped and Mrs Rush wouldn’t put them on the table for a guest like Andrew. Her mother was guilty of snobbery, Sally thought, and laughed inwardly. If she really didn’t care what he thought of them, she would have given him pot luck in the kitchen. ‘I hope it hasn’t put you off my family? Brenda will love you and I think you got on with Dad?’
‘Your father was very pleasant to speak with,’ Andrew assured her, and then he turned to look into her eyes. ‘I don’t want to marry your family, Sally. I hope we shall all get on well together and I want them to like me for your sake – but it’s you I love, you I want to marry one day.’
‘I’m not twenty-one yet,’ Sally said. ‘I think they might say we should wait.’
‘Not for too long,’ Andrew said, and leaned in to kiss her. ‘Besides, you’ll be old enough to choose for yourself in a few months – and then I hope you’ll want a nice house away from the city where we can give our children the kind of family life I never had. I want several, Sally, and I want to spend my life with you, but we’ve got plenty of time to decide these things …’ He put his arm about her. ‘Your family is delightful, Sally – besides, when we’re married we shan’t live in their pockets, shall we?’
Sally ate a piece of cold spotted dick with hot custard for her supper. She’d stayed with Andrew by the river for most of the afternoon and had a lovely tea of tiny cucumber sandwiches and scones with jam in a nice hotel. She’d enjoyed herself and when Andrew kissed her goodnight on the step, her heart had leaped for joy. It was only when she came back home and saw her mother, father and sister sitting together drinking tea in the kitchen that she began to feel a little uneasy.