by Sue Welfare
‘That’s where you used you go to school, isn’t it?’
Helen nodded. ‘Billingsfield Grammar School for Girls. It was a really good place to be.’
The camera was rolling and Natalia and Felix both wore an expectant expression, suggesting that they expected her to carry on talking.
Helen pointed through the window. ‘You see the pub on the corner up there, the Dog and Bucket? We used to go across there at lunch times. I know it’s not very PC nowadays but the landlord used to turn a blind eye to the girls from the high school. We’d all be crammed into his back room at lunch time.’
Natalia looked genuinely horrified. ‘You used to drink at lunch time when you were at school?’
‘No, not drink,’ Helen laughed, ‘Well, yes, but we didn’t drink alcohol, just soft drinks. The older girls used to go over there to play pool, listen to music, and play the slot machines. We thought we were so grown up. I remember we used to buy one drink and make it last as long as possible. I’d forgotten all about it – the landlady cooked us Pukka Pies with chips for the same price as a school dinner. Not exactly the healthy option but everyone did it in those days.’
The car slowed for the junction. The pub didn’t look as if it had changed much at all since Helen was last there. Just seeing the facade brought back the smell of beer and cigarettes and the feel of the clammy leather benches, and the way the floor in the back room was always slightly sticky underfoot. There was a board propped up by the door advertising live music and good food. Helen turned to watch it go, like a ship passing by.
‘We used to think we were so cool back then. It’s where I first really started singing. There’s a function room at the back.’
‘And you sang with Charlotte Johnson there?’
‘No, not then, I sang on my own the first time. It was a weekday evening. There was some sort of junior talent show thing that the brewery were running for a local charity I think, to be honest it’s all a bit vague now. I’ve got no idea what possessed me to agree to do it. I wasn’t exactly brimming with confidence in those days – but Charlotte was, and she was there that night too. We were both dreaming of escaping Billingsfield in some far-off magical future.’
She caught a look that passed between Natalia and Felix.
‘What?’ Helen asked.
‘I was just wondering if we should maybe stop and have a look around?’ asked Natalia. ‘I’m sure the landlord wouldn’t mind.’
Helen stared towards the pub.
They had been in the ladies together doing their hair and touching up their makeup, and Charlotte had said that they should maybe do something together, practise a bit, get a set sorted out, try and find some gigs. The memory was crystal clear like a snippet of film. Helen looked away, remembering how flattered she had felt.
They were in the same class at school although Charlotte had barely spoken to her before that evening, but everyone knew Charlotte Johnson was going somewhere, her dad was rolling in money. It was only a matter of time before Charlotte was discovered. He’d paid for her to have singing lessons and learn modern jazz and tap. Helen blushed; she had been flattered and said yes. The Dog and Bucket was where this had all begun.
Felix glanced at his watch. ‘I’m not sure we’ve got time now. Maybe we could do something there tomorrow?’
Helen took a deep breath. It was odd how memories clamoured for attention. Helen knew they were recording her, but she was no longer sure what were thoughts and what she was saying aloud. ‘We used to practise at Charlotte’s house. Her dad had got some backing tracks for her …’
As the car moved on there was another new view, and another new memory pushing the previous one aside. As she spoke and described what she was feeling and what she remembered, Felix and Natalia, sitting in the jump seats, nodded like therapists.
The car swung left past the park and back up Wherry Street by the bakery and back into the one-way system, and now all that Helen had were thoughts, impressions and feelings clamouring in on her. It was as if she had lit the blue touch paper to some part of her memory that she had long forgotten. This was the way she used to come into town on the bus – first as a child with her mum and dad, and then just with her dad, and finally alone. All alone. Helen blinked back the tears. Where had all those years gone? And now she knew she was saying all those things aloud because Felix was nodding more vigorously, and what was worse was she didn’t know how to stop talking.
It was the mundane things that hit Helen the most; the shabby launderette on Park Terrace where she had taken her washing on Sunday mornings, the little corner shop a street away from Harry’s flat that let her have things on tick till pay day. Helen backhanded the tears away. How could she have forgotten so many places, and so many people? Where were the memories coming from, and more puzzling still, where had she kept them hidden all those years?
‘Do you want to stop?’ Natalia was asking again, her tone smooth as silk. Helen glanced across at her. She was good, and for the first time Helen got a glimpse of why Roots used her.
‘No,’ said Helen, ‘I’m fine.’
How could she have left it so long?
Helen recognised where they were and guessed where they were going. A few minutes later the car pulled up on the pavement in front of a big old-fashioned double-fronted toy shop. The sign above the door read, ‘Finton and Sons, Finest Toys and Games.’
‘I didn’t realise that we were coming here today; I thought we were going back to my old house and then back to the hotel?’
‘We are,’ said Felix. ‘But we had a little rethink over tea and thought that rather than do all the interviews back at the hotel and in the theatre we’d stop off on the way. It gives the whole thing more of a sense of place, makes it more atmospheric.’
‘It is in the schedule –’ said Natalia, pointing to her clipboard. ‘Here we are. Look. We said we would be meeting up with Harry.’
Helen nodded. ‘I know,’ she said. She didn’t add that she had imagined waiting for him in the hotel room, meeting on neutral ground, a peck on each cheek, maybe a presidential-style handshake, then tea and a polite conversation for the cameras – not this. Coming to the shop straight from the theatre felt too quick; it felt as if she had been ambushed.
‘We rang Harry while we were having something to eat,’ said Natalia. ‘He said he was happy for us to come to the shop. In fact I think he preferred it – you know, home turf. I think he’s a bit nervous.’
‘Well, if he’s okay about it, then that’s fine. I mean we don’t want him to be nervous, do we?’ Helen said softly. Harry wasn’t the only one who was nervous. She glanced across at the crew. She had known that this moment was coming – she had seen Harry’s name on the list – but now the moment was here she was apprehensive. What if he had changed, what if he was bitter or angry with her? And why the hell hadn’t she rung him before now? What would it have taken to break the ice, to reach out and test the waters before today?
Helen could feel herself trembling. She couldn’t remember the last time she had spoken to Harry. They had been such good friends and he would have been easy enough to find. Why hadn’t she made the call before they started filming? Was it cowardice or fear on her part, or a little of both?
‘You are okay about this, aren’t you?’ repeated Natalia. ‘Meeting Harry was on the schedule, just not at the toy shop. I mean if it’s a problem,’ she let the phrase hang in the air.
Glancing up at the shop front Helen couldn’t help wondering if leaving their first meeting to chance after all these years had been the most terrible mistake. What if Harry had grown into someone she didn’t recognise? What if he resented the intrusion on his life; what if he hated her now? She swallowed down an unexpected flurry of tears. Why hadn’t she rung him?
‘I’m fine,’ she said. ‘It’s just all a bit much. All this feels like something from A Christmas Carol.’
Natalia pulled a face. ‘Sorry, I’m not with you.’
‘The Ghost of Chri
stmas Past?’ Helen prompted.
‘Oh yeah, right,’ said Natalia, comprehension dawning. ‘I see what you mean. Yeah, well hopefully it’ll have the whole happy ending thing too. Maybe not a goose though …’
Felix laughed.
Not altogether reassured, Helen smiled while the crew clambered out ahead of her, and then at Felix’s signal Helen stepped out of the car and crossed the pavement, surprised by just how nervous she felt. She really should have rung Harry, said a little voice in her head. Why the hell hadn’t she?
‘So how did you end up working here?’ Natalia prompted.
‘I had a Saturday job here when I was at school, and then when I left, Harry’s dad offered me a full-time job –’
‘You didn’t think about going to college or university?’
Helen laughed. ‘I did for about ten minutes, but it didn’t happen, not in those days, not for people like me. But this was a lovely job. I loved it here with Harry and his dad. Some of the girls I went to school with went into nursing or teaching or working in shops but most of my friends ended up as machinists at Fulbrights making overalls. No, this was a lovely job.’
‘But you always knew that you were destined for better things?’ suggested Natalia.
‘Not really, but we all dream, don’t we?’ said Helen. ‘I bet if you asked any one of the girls who left my school what they wanted they would all have had great plans. But there are no guarantees. And I was happy here. Really happy –’
‘But not happy enough to stay?’
‘Being happy doesn’t mean you can’t do something else. Things change. I had a chance to change my life, maybe the only chance I’d ever get. There are no guarantees that those things will come along again; and so yes, I took it.’
At the shop doorway Helen hesitated. As she reached for the handle the door swung wide open, a middle-aged woman with a child in a buggy filling the open doorway. As the woman caught sight of the camera crew and then Helen, her jaw dropped and she began to bluster an apology. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t – oh my God – I’m not going to be on the telly, am I? Will you just look at the state of me. I’d have put my teeth in if I’d have known –’
‘Cut,’ said Felix, and then painting on a professional smile for the woman’s benefit, continued, ‘It’s fine. Not a problem. Let’s help you out of there, shall we?’ And then glancing at the crew he said, ‘Will you give us a lift here, guys?’
‘I remember you, you’re that woman off the telly,’ the woman was saying to Helen, all the while pointing and grinning. ‘You are, aren’t you? You were in Cannon Square. I remember you. You know I used to love that programme. Eva Reynolds.’
Helen nodded. ‘That was me.’
‘Bloody hell, you wait till I tell my old man that I’ve seen you. Are you coming back? I’ve always said it’s not been the same since you left. It’s gone right off. All drugs and things, not proper stories –’
‘I died,’ said Helen helpfully.
‘Oh yes, that’s right. I remember now, that gas explosion. I wouldn’t let that stop you though if I were you, pet. You could be your own twin sister or something. I mean they do all sorts on the telly these days. People coming back from the past in comas and things. I’d watch you …’ She chattered on while watching the crew struggling to manoeuvre the unwieldy buggy out through the doors. ‘It’s a bugger getting that thing in and out of anywhere. I told my daughter to get something smaller, but you can’t tell ’em. Can I have your autograph while I’m here? I’m telling you, it’s never been the same after you left.’
Helen smiled and scribbled her name on the piece of paper the woman offered her, her smile fixed as she stared up at the shop windows. Despite the woman and the fuss all Helen could think about was washing the windows on Saturday mornings, and how cold the heavy plate glass had felt under her fingers on a winter’s morning. Harry’s father had liked her to dress the windows every week. He always said she had a real flair for that kind of thing. ‘Artistic, creative – you’ve got a real eye for display, Helen. She’s a real asset, isn’t she, Harry?’
Helen smiled. Harry’s father had always been kind to her. She realised now that he wanted her to marry Harry, take over the shop, keep his boy safe. But even so when Helen told him she was leaving he had done nothing but wish her well. ‘I knew we’d not have you here long, pet. I hoped but in my heart I knew – I’ll be sad to see you go but if it doesn’t work out you’ll always have a job here, you know that, don’t you? I had hoped that you and Harry, well, you know – but it was only wishful thinking; an old man’s fancy.’
Today there was a family of bears picnicking in one window, alongside a racetrack and railway line set out with little trains. The woman took the autograph and grinned. ‘Best of luck, love, and take my advice; you want to give ’em a ring, see if they’ll have you back.’
Helen smiled her goodbyes.
‘Right, can we go again now that we’ve cleared the doorway?’ Felix said briskly. ‘How’s the light?’
The cameraman gave him the thumbs up.
‘Right, okay Helen, if you’d just like to go back to the car – everyone ready now?’
Just as Helen turned to do as she was instructed, she heard someone calling her name from behind her. ‘Helen?’
She swung around. He was standing in the shop doorway, smiling at her. ‘Harry?’ she whispered. ‘Oh my God, is that you? You’ve not changed a bit –’ her voice crackled and broke.
The film crew were already rolling and no more than a step or two behind her.
Harry grinned; he still looked for all the world like the kind of man who would always have a pen handy if you needed one. He was greyer now, with a bit of a paunch, and his bright open features had thickened up so that he looked more like his father; but Helen would have known him anywhere.
‘Well, fancy seeing you back in Billingsfield,’ he teased. ‘I thought you’d forgotten all about us.’
The sound of his voice brought a lump into her throat.
‘Oh, Harry,’ she said, her heart filling up with joy at seeing his face and knowing that even if he had aged he hadn’t changed inside. Tears prickled behind her eyes. ‘It’s so lovely to see you again.’
‘Is it really you?’ he said softly. ‘I’ve been waiting so long to see you again. I haven’t been able to settle to anything all day. They said they weren’t sure what time you’d be getting here. It’s been hell waiting –’ He paused, his eyes bright. ‘It’s been too long, Helen. I’ve really missed you.’
There was a moment of silence and then something cracked deep inside her and she ran towards him and threw her arms around him.
‘Oh, Harry,’ she spluttered. ‘It’s so nice to see you.’
‘Now that’s what I call a hello,’ said Harry grinning down at her and kissing the top of her head. ‘You look fantastic.’ He paused. ‘I’ve missed you –’ he said as he held her tight up against his chest. ‘You’ve got no idea how many times I’ve thought about this moment.’
She could hear the emotion in his voice and couldn’t stop the tears from trickling down her face. ‘You could have rung me,’ she said.
Harry laughed. ‘And you could have rung me. I just can’t believe you’re finally here,’ he said, making a show of composing himself. ‘Come on, come inside, come inside. I’ve got cake out the back, and I’ve got some flowers for you. I wasn’t sure about champagne but we’ve got tea.’
Helen laughed. ‘Tea will be just fine. Let me look at you. You haven’t changed a bit, you know.’
‘Have you had your eyes tested recently?’ he said, the grin holding fast.
The film crew followed them inside, squeezing through the doorway. Helen turned to catch Felix making throat-cutting gestures.
‘We’ll set up inside,’ said Felix, by way of explanation. ‘So we can film you walking into the shop together. Can you just give us a minute?’
‘Sure,’ said Helen. ‘It’ll give us a chance to cat
ch our breath. You’re okay with that, Harry?’
He nodded. ‘Yes, of course. Is it always like this?’ he asked, as the crew bustled past them to set up for the next shot.
‘TV? More or less. It’s not as smooth as it looks on your screen. You learn to be patient.’
He smiled down at her. ‘You know, you look lovely. I can’t believe you’re here – I want to pinch myself.’
‘So whenever you’re ready,’ said Felix, breaking into the conversation. ‘Can we have you walking in, just naturally? What were you planning to do next, Harry?’ asked Felix, as the crew settled themselves down by a display of baby dolls.
‘Me? I was thinking I’d introduce Helen to her replacement?’ said Harry with a smile.
Natalia said. ‘Sounds good to me.’
Felix nodded and the cameraman gave them the thumbs up. ‘Whenever you’re ready,’ Felix said.
On cue Harry guided Helen through the shop doors and over to the main counter, where a pale spotty girl watched their progress nervously. ‘This is Lorna – she helps me out in the shop,’ said Harry.
The girl stopped chewing her fingernails and held out a hand.
‘So you’ve got my job now,’ said Helen warmly, shaking it.
The girl looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights and for a moment or two it looked as if she might curtsey.
‘I’ve already told her that we’ll have no running away and getting rich and famous, haven’t I, Lorna?’ joked Harry.
The girl’s colour deepened. Her mouth opened and closed like a beached halibut as she searched around for a reply. Her embarrassment was so acute you could almost touch it.
‘So how have you been?’ Helen asked Harry, diverting attention away from Lorna, who visibly relaxed. It was a ridiculous thing to say, given how long it had been since Harry and Helen had last seen each other, but she had to start somewhere.