Comet

by Andie J Fessey

  Rosalind’s Father, Barbara’s Uncle Victor, owned a textile factory a few miles away from Southport.

  Both him and his wife Lilian, were known as their ‘rich’ relatives. It was not something any in her family begrudged, as all the men in their family owned their own businesses.

  Barbara and Samuel’s Father owned a butcher’s shop, though business was not as good as usual, due to the harsh winter and the rationing.

  Their Uncle William owned the undertakers in Waterloo and Uncle George owned a firm manufacturing ship parts.

  She did not dislike her cousin.

  Rosalind attended a ‘posh’ school in Southport and her family possessed more money, than Barbara thought she would ever see in her life, but, Rosalind was a nice person.

  Except the fact, she fancied Robert.

  Barbara ‘liked’ Robert, but kept her feelings to herself.

  She thought of him as a brother, but lately her feelings had begun to change.

  She noticed different things about him, the way he spoke, the way he walked, the way he always looked out for them, like a Father figure.

  Maybe, it was because he tragically lost his own Father she often thought.

  “She’s got a couple of ponies,” she said, turning her gaze to Comet.

  “I still think, the library would be best.” Frank said, jumping from the fence and walking to Comet.

  “But surely, Rosalind knows how to look after them each day?” Jimmy asked.

  “I’ve no idea,” Robert replied, walking across the allotment.

  “He must have to eat more than just apples Robert,” Barbara asked, watching him walk to Comet, gradually working his way through the pile of apples.

  Robert stopped next to Comet, running his hand along the large horse’s neck, stroking away with gentle movements.

  Comet raised his head up, as Robert inadvertently located his sweet spot, near the base of his neck.

  “He seems to like that,” Maisie said, rushing quickly to where Robert stood.

  He stepped back, as she stroked her hand along Comets neck, who placed his large head against Robert’s side.

  “What’s he doing?” Frank asked, grinning widely at the sight of his older brother, being gently nudged by the huge horse.

  “I’ve no idea,” Robert replied.

  “You must’ve found his sweet spot,” Barbara said, watching the proceedings from the fence.

  “His what?” Robert asked, giggling at Comets touch.

  “It’s what Rosalind calls a sweet spot, her ponies have one,” Barbara replied, “I think it means, it’s where they like to be touched.”

  “I think I know why,” Frank said.

  “Why what?” Robert asked.

  “Why they liked to be stroked there.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “It figures, doesn’t it?”

  “Does it?”

  “Well, think about it,” Frank said, “it’s not like Comet is a cat or anything is it?”

  “Your powers of observation, never cease to amaze me Mr Holmes,” Jimmy said, “we can safely deduce Comet is not a cat. Thanks for clearing that up, Frankie.”

  “Sod off Jimmy,” Frank replied, “think about it.”

  “I’ve thought about it Frankie,” Jimmy answered, “and I agree, Comet is not a cat.”

  “Be serious for once Jimmy.”

  “I think, I know what you mean Frank.” Maisie said, continuing to stroke Comet’s neck.

  “You do?” Jimmy asked, continuing to chew upon his piece of grass.

  “Yup,” Maisie replied.

  “Well, go on then,” Jimmy asked.

  “He can’t reach that spot, can he?”

  “I see what you mean,” Robert replied, “it must be horrible, having an itch you can’t scratch.”

  Staring at him, Barbara nodded and smiled, whilst Maisie continued to scratch Comets neck for him.

  Ceasing rubbing his head against the side of Robert, he returned his attention back to the pile of apples.

  “Library or Rosalind?” Frank asked.

  “Let’s try the library and see if they have anything there.” Robert replied, casting a glance to Barbara, knowing he may be young, but he was neither stupid or blind.

  Looking up, Barbara gazed in his direction.

  Robert blushed, realising she caught him looking at her.

  There was a moment’s silence, not unnoticed by Frank.

  “So,” Jimmy said, breaking the silence, “who’s up for a trip to the library then.”

  The other children, nodded their heads in unison.

  “What about the big field?” Daniel asked.

  “What Danny?” Robert asked, turning to look at his youngest brother.

  Looking up at his sibling, Daniel pointed to the large field at the end of the path.

  “The field has grass in it,” he said, “do you think Comet would like to eat grass, or does he only eat apples?”

  “You’re a genius Daniel,” Barbara cried, crossing to hug him.

  “Aww, stop it and my name is Danny,” he said, as she planted a kiss on his forehead, before releasing her grip.

  “What?” Frank asked.

  Barbara gazed at the field, before turning to face them, a smile set broadly upon her face.

  “Horses eat grass, I even remember what Rosalind calls it now,” she said, “she says one of the things she’s got to do, is turn the horses out.”

  “Turn them out? Like,make them turn in a circle or something?” Jimmy asked.

  “No, don’t be silly Jimmy. It’s what people who have horses call it, when they place them into fields to graze or things. They call it ‘turning them out’.”

  “A couple of things though,” Robert said, staring at the field, “is the field secure, so he won’t run off and get himself hurt? And the other thing is, how do we get him there?”

  “We can check the field out first,” Wally said, “I don’t think there’s any way out of there, but best be sure Rob.”

  “Sounds like a plan, but again how do we get him there? He’s a lovely horse, but he’s also a very large, lovely horse and I don’t want him to get loose.”

  “Same way we brought him here in the first place our Rob,” Frank said, “we can put that collar thing on him and lead him that way.”

  “But, it looks so heavy,” Maisie said.

  “He must be used to it, Archie had it on him every day.”

  “We can take it off him, when we get there.”

  “Okay, but let’s check out the field first.”

  They strolled to the field, closing the large wooden gate behind them, venturing within its expanse.

  Two of the four sides of the field were surrounded by a sheer, grass covered ridge. One of the sides backed onto several of the allotments themselves with the final side, surrounded by dozens of tall conifers, obscuring the view of the Liverpool to Leeds canal beyond.

  Walking slowly along the perimeter of the fence, running parallel to the canal, they checked each part of it carefully.

  In several sections, the fencing was worn and fallen apart in places, the lower branches of the trees pushing through, protruding into the boundary of the field.

  “That bit leads to the canal Rob, we can’t chance him stumbling through that,” Wally said, pointing at a section devoid of any fencing.

  “We’ll have to make these bits more secure first,” Robert said.

  “How are we going to do that?” Wally asked.

  “Our Dah kept his tools in the shed, in the back yard,” Jack said after a moment, “I’m sure there are hammers and things in there.”

  “You’re right, good thinking,” Robert said, “we used them to build that go kart remember?”

  Nodding his head, Wally remembered the fun they all experienced the previous summer, building the go kart in the Bennett’s back yard from wood and pram wheels.

  “That was brilliant that was,” he said, smiling at the memory of riding it through
the streets.

  “It was my design you know?” Jimmy said, remembering the happy times spent with their creation.

  “That’s because you are clever,” Maisie said, causing him to blush.

  “Err, I know where there’s a load of old wood we can grab,” he said, taking his mind from the fact his little cousin, was still staring at him, “it’s just going to waste.”

  “Okay,” Robert said, “we’ll get the wood and supplies later, then we’ll fix it tomorrow.”

  The others, looked at him expectantly.

  “Let’s go to the library,” he said, smiling.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “So, what’s he like then Iris?”

  “What’s who like Maureen?” Iris replied.

  The two girls shouted to be heard above the noise of the machinery in front of them, even though they stood close to each other.

  “You know who I’m on about, so don’t you play all coy with me!” Maureen replied, laughing.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Iris replied.

  “Hey Beryl!” Maureen shouted, to the woman stood on the opposite side of the conveyor belt.

  “What is it Love?” Beryl called in reply.

  “Our Iris ‘ere has a fancy bit of Welsh brisket and she’s going all shy on me, won’t give me any of the juicy details,” she replied, winking.

  “Ohh, a bit of Welsh meat are you getting Iris love, fancy that?!” Beryl shouted.

  “Beryl please, don’t!” Iris called.

  “Yaki dar boyo!” Liz, the woman alongside Beryl, yelled.

  “Oh Maureen, why did you have to say anything?” Iris asked, feeling her cheeks glow.

  “I’m sorry Iris,” Maureen replied, “no harm meant in it love.”

  Iris stared at the conveyor belt in front of her, listening to the various jokes and innuendo around her.

  She felt a nudge to her side, as Maureen gently elbowed her.

  “But did you get any Welsh sausage, or was it a quick ham shank?!”

  The other women, roared with laughter.

  Iris turned, striding in the direction of the staff canteen.

  “Iris!” Maureen shouted, “Come on love, I was only having a bit of a giggle.”

  She felt terrible seeing Iris upset, but was determined she would make her friend toughen up.

  In her eyes, Iris was too polite, to survive in this day and age.

  Iris stopped her walk to the canteen, feeling she probably overreacted to the situation.

  I know she’s only joking, but I’m really not in the mood for it.

  “And where, do you think you’re going?” A voice asked sternly, from nearby.

  Oh, not today.

  “I was only going to the toilet,” Iris said, turning to face the person addressing her.

  Sharon Traynor stood in front of her, the shift supervisor, a nemesis to Iris and Maureen since their days in school together in Waterloo.

  Where Iris was the studious one, nearly polar opposite to Maureen’s gregarious nature, Sharon was always the sneaky one. She was the one pupil in their class, guaranteed to inform the teachers on anything the other girls may be getting up to, even if they were not.

  Maureen lost count of the number of canings she received, due to Sharon’s malicious lies.

  “The toilets are in the other direction Iris Bennett, as you well know.”

  “Oh err, I was…”

  “You was going to what? Shirk off early for a break?” Sharon accused her.

  “No Sharon I meant…”

  “It’s not ‘Sharon’ within the walls of this building, Iris Bennett, it’s Ms Traynor.”

  “I’m sorry, Ms Traynor.”

  “Don’t you forget it alright? What’s made you all flustered? Have you just come on or something?” She asked, a smirk upon her mouth, making her lips so thin, it appeared she possessed none.

  Iris, felt herself blushing again.

  “’Ere Shaz, leave her alone!” Maureen called, from where she stood at the conveyor belt.

  Sharon spun around, turning her gaze to Maureen.

  “What did you call me Maureen Bishop?” She replied, making her way across to Maureen, who glanced at Iris, nodding in the direction of the toilets.

  “Oh, you’re in for it now girl,” Beryl said giggling.

  Iris took the opportunity, to make her way quickly to the toilets, whilst Maureen received a verbal whiplashing from their Supervisor.

  Entering the Ladies toilets, she walked across to one of the basins attached to the opposite wall. She turned on the tap, cold water flowing rapidly into the basin below.

  Placing her hands into the basin, she cupped them, capturing some of the water.

  Leaning forward, she brought her hands up to her face and threw the water against it. The coldness hitting her skin, made her flinch before she repeated the process.

  Grabbing one of the towels from a nearby shelf, she dabbed it on her face.

  I’m strong at home, why can’t I be strong here?

  Finishing drying her face, she stared into the mirror on the wall facing her.

  Taking a deep breath, she placed the towel back on the ledge and walked outside to the factory floor.

  Sharon, was gladly nowhere to be seen.

  Maureen and the other women were giggling amongst themselves, looking up at the windows of the office of Mr Mawdsley, the General Manager.

  Walking to them, she adjusted the cap atop her head.

  “Sorry about that,” she said to Maureen, retaking her place at the conveyor belt.

  “Don’t worry about it chuck, I shouldn’t have taken the piss like that, I’m sorry.”

  They looked at each other, smiling.

  “What happened with Sharon?”

  “Ah, sod all, she got her bloody iron knickers in a twist as usual. If there ever was a woman in need of a right good seeing to, it’s her.”

  “Where is she? She’s usually still ranting and raving by now?”

  “Oh, you haven’t heard,” Maureen replied, “there’s a bloke from the Ministry here, having a little bit of a look around. Old Mister Mawdsley is showing off the place, so we all have to be on our best behaviour haven’t we ladies?”

  “That’s right Mo love, knickers safely tucked in over here” Beryl replied laughing.

  “Some old fart more than likely.” Maureen said.

  “Err I don’t think so,” Liz said, staring at the doorway, leaning upstairs to the administration offices.

  Turning, Maureen followed her gaze.

  “Bloody hell!”

  Gavin Mawdsley, walked alongside the tall, tanned man in the tailored suit.

  Walking alongside the General Manager with a smile upon his face, Tobias waved in the direction of all he saw.

  “Bloody hell, he’s gorgeous” Maureen exclaimed.

  “I think,” Beryl said, with a laugh, “I’m in love.”

  “I think, I’m going to faint,” Liz said.

  “Oh shit, they’re heading this way,” Maureen exclaimed.

  “Do I look presentable? Why do I have wear this bloody cap!”

  Gavin led the way to the conveyor belt, with Tobias alongside and Sharon following closely behind, furiously writing notes on a clip board.

  “And this, Mr Anderson is the heart of our operation. If it wasn’t for the ladies here, we’d never have the high-quality products, which we’re famous for.”

  Smiling at each of the woman stood in their overalls, Tobias’s gaze halted, as his eyes fell upon Iris.

  My, what a pretty flower.

  Apart from the din of the machines located upon the next row, several moments of silence passed, as Tobias continued his gaze at Iris.

  He turned his gaze away, only when he realised all the women clearly saw the object capturing his attention.

  “Oh, marvellous work you ladies are engaged in,” Tobias said, “Mr Mawdsley here, indeed has sung your praises to myself and most certainly holds you all
in the highest of regards.”

  “Thank you so much Mr Mawdsley sir,” Maureen said, smiling at Tobias, her intention to grab his attention, before any of the other girls managed to get their oars in.

  What a lovely voice he’s got.

  “It is the staff here, which makes my factory run like clockwork Mr Anderson,” the General Manager said, “Maureen and the team here, are a small but vital part of our operations.”

  “I am most certain they are Mr Mawdsley, vital that is, not small.”

  Some of the older women giggled, attempting to stifle their laughter.

  “Oh, my sincerest apologies ladies, I most certainly had no intention of insinuating in any way, shape or form, any of you are small.”

  Beryl let out a laugh, drawing a stern look from Sharon.

  “Oh, my dear ladies, I do believe I am suffering from a severe case of placing my foot in my mouth with each word I happen to utter,” Tobias said, “I beg your forgiveness and please be rest assured, I find you all neither small nor large. I find you all absolutely, wonderfully perfect and a credit to Jacobs.”

  “Thank you,” Maureen said.

  God, he don’t half use big words.

  She did not fail to notice however, neither did a few of the other women, his gaze kept returning to Iris.

  “Well, if you could beg our forgiveness ladies, I have the rest of the factory to show to Mr Anderson. Please carry on your good work,” Mr Mawdsley said, leading the party away from the women.

  Tobias held Iris’s gaze for a second longer than necessary.

  She felt her cheeks blush, so turned her gaze from the handsome man’s stare and concentrated on a piece of the machinery stood in front of her.

  The party their Manager led, barely reached away from earshot, before the women talked animatedly between each other.

  “Blimey, he was more than a bit of alright if you know what I mean!” Beryl said, watching the party retreat into the packaging section, located at the end of the vast room.

  “I think you’ve no chance there Beryl love, he’s young enough to be your son,” Maureen said smiling, continuing to inconspicuously smell the air around her, containing the aroma of his aftershave.

  “More like young enough to be yer grandson,” Liz said giggling, giving her, a light dig with her elbow.

  “Get away with yer! I’d eat the poor lad alive anyways,” Beryl replied with a laugh, the other women laughing along with her.