Live the Dream

by Josephine Cox

  Marie laughed out loud. 'That's Daisy for you!'

  As Amy went out the door, she heard the old man telling Marie, 'I feel for that young Robertson lass. Her father is a right bad lot, and as for the mother, well…every man in Blackburn knows how she earns her spending money.'

  When the other customers joined in to condemn Daisy's parents, Marie wisely and light-heartedly put a stop to it. She knew what they were saying was the hard truth, but it wasn't the kind of banter she wanted to hear; especially not when Daisy was her daughter's best friend.

  The shouting and screaming had gone on for a full hour.

  'Get your hands off her, you bastard!' Painted with rouge and lipstick, her hair bleached to the roots and wearing a dress that revealed too much for comfort, Daisy's mother knew how to handle herself.

  Taking the poker from its stand, she confronted Daisy's father. A mountain of a man, he had Daisy pinned to the door, his two arms folded across her neck and his considerable weight pressing against her. 'You're going nowhere!' he growled. 'Not till you tell me who was in here last night. And don't try lying through your teeth, because I know she had a bloke in here. I might be thick, but I'm not bloody stupid!'

  Her face stained with tears, Daisy stared him out. 'I've already told you,' her words came out in a strangled muffle, 'I don't know anything.'

  'You're a madman! Let go of her!' Daisy's mother screamed, prodding him repeatedly with the poker. 'There's been no fella in here…not last night or any other sodding night! There were only me and Daisy. Now let her go, or I swear to God, I'll do for you!'

  In a sudden move that left her buckled against the door, he threw Daisy aside and, grabbing hold of the woman, wrapped his hands about her neck. 'So! You'll "do for me", will you?' he laughed. 'Well now, let's see you try, eh?' Wrenching the poker from her hands, he grappled her to the ground. There then followed a lot of shouting and threats as they tore at each other with blind hatred.

  Suddenly there was a bang on the wall, and a neighbour yelled, 'If you don't stop the racket this minute, I'm fetching the police!'

  'See what you've done now, you silly, jealous bugger!' As he continued to bear down on her, Daisy's mother fought like a tiger. 'You'll be getting us thrown out on the streets with your shenanigans!'

  'Aw, come on, tek no notice of them buggers next door.' Stroking her breast he gave a knowing grin. 'What say we make up, eh?'

  In a matter of minutes, the two of them were rolling about on the floor, laughing and teasing, and blatantly petting each other.

  'You make me sick!' Disgusted with what was now happening before her eyes, Daisy ran to the scullery where she sobbed for a while. Then she washed her face, tidied her hair, straightened her tight little dress and checked her stocking seams, then, going out the back door, prayed the neighbours would not stop her as she ran down the street.

  'I hate them!' she muttered. 'I wish they'd kill each other!'

  Twenty minutes later, she stepped off the bus at the market square, where Amy was patiently waiting under the clock.

  'Daisy!' Catching sight of her, she ran forward. 'Where in God's name have you been? I began to think you weren't coming.'

  Daisy hurried to meet her. 'No you didn't,' she teased. 'You thought I'd forgotten and gone to the wrong place again, didn't you?'

  Amy laughed. 'The thought did cross my mind.'

  'Well, I'm here now,' Daisy told her, 'so stop nattering and let's get going.'

  Amy hesitated. In spite of Daisy's jolly manner, she could see she'd been crying and, knowing how Daisy was sometimes reluctant to talk about what was going on at home, Amy offered all the same. 'You can tell me what happened if you like?'

  Daisy shrugged. 'Who says anything happened?'

  'I can see for myself. All I'm saying is,' Amy gently assured her, 'if you want to talk about it, I'm here for you.'

  On the way to the shops Daisy outlined the cause of the trouble. 'It's always the same. He keeps accusing her of having a fella in the house when he's not around. Oh, I'm not defending her, because she's a disgrace—one man after another, and no shame to go with it. But she never brings them home…not as far as I know, anyway.'

  'Why don't they split?' It seemed a natural solution to Amy. These were two people who already seemed to live separate lives, with each carrying on with whomever they fancied. Yet they fought over each other like a pair of crazed animals, with poor Daisy caught in the middle of it all.

  'They'll never split,' Daisy answered. 'They love each other—at least that's what they say.'

  'But it doesn't make sense.' Amy had never been able to understand it.

  Daisy was quiet for a time, then in a sombre voice she confessed, 'Sometimes, Amy, I hate them so much it frightens me.'

  Then suddenly, and before Amy could answer, Daisy was running ahead. 'Come on, slowcoach!' she cried. 'Let's get a move on, or the shops will be shut before we get there.'

  Realising it was Daisy's way of telling her she didn't want to talk about her parents any more, Amy went along with her. 'Race you to the Co-op!' she called, and the two of them ran down the street as though everything was right with the world.

  They wanted new dresses to wear to a dance that evening. But the Co-op, even in the town centre, didn't carry much stock, so could not really help.

  'We haven't got such a big dress selection,' the assistant told them, 'but we're looking to move to larger premises soon, and when we do, we'll have much more room for a clothes department.'

  Leading the way, she ushered them into a small area at the back of the shop. 'There.' Pointing to the rack of garments, she said confidently, 'I'm sure you'll find something suitable.'

  As the assistant walked away, Daisy sniggered. 'Bloody Nora! Now there's a frightening sight, I must say.'

  Amy discreetly glanced at the woman. 'As long as she helps us to find what we want, she's all right by me.'

  Though Amy had to admit she hadn't felt altogether comfortable in the woman's company. With her straight black skirt, starched white blouse and her dark hair scraped back so tightly it threatened to spring from the roots, the woman really did look quite unfriendly.

  It didn't take long for the girls to realise they would not find what they wanted here. After fifteen minutes of rummaging through the rack, they had seen and tried all the frocks, and none of them was right.

  'Have you found anything suitable?' The woman was back, arms folded and a grim look on her face, as though she was ready for a fight.

  Amy shook her head. 'Sorry, but there's nothing there we fancy.' It was no use beating about the bush, she thought.

  The woman was not pleased, and it showed. 'If that's the case, you might as well leave, because that's all we have, I'm afraid.' That said she turned her back on them and began straightening the dresses, all the time muttering and complaining.

  'I wouldn't like to meet her on a dark night,' Daisy said as they made their way out.

  'Happen she wouldn't care to meet you neither!' Amy quipped.

  They were in merry mood as they burst into the secondhand shop.

  'We're looking for party dresses,' Daisy informed the proprietor. 'We'd like something pretty and cheap, with no stains or holes.'

  'Well, now…' Bald-headed and round as a pumpkin, the man looked like a leprechaun perched on a stool. 'You've come to the right place, ladies.'

  When he showed them through to the back room, they were confronted with three racks of dresses in all sizes, colours and styles. He left them to browse.

  'We're gonna have a good time here, lass!' Laughing, Daisy wasted no time in sorting out four dresses to try.

  'They've all been cleaned and pressed,' the odd little man informed them on his return. 'So don't go wiping lipstick and powder on 'em, or I'll have to charge you for the cleaning!' With that he loped out and left them to browse further. · Daisy and Amy had the time of their lives trying on the dresses. 'What do you think to this one?' When Daisy came out from behind the curtain, Amy almost co
llapsed in hysterics. Tight across her stomach and loose about her chest, the crimson dress clung to her backside, and when she bent down Amy could see her knickers.

  'Put it back, for God's sake!' Amy urged. 'If you go out like that, you'll get arrested!'

  'Does that mean you don't like it?' Daisy groaned, feigning disappointment.

  'Trust me,' Amy laughed. 'Wear that and you'll have a trail of dogs behind, wherever you go.'

  Daisy giggled naughtily. 'Men-dogs, or dog-dogs?' she asked. 'Both!' Amy answered.

  For a bit of fun, Amy tried on a green dress with a trailing hem that reached halfway across the room, and a feather boa.

  'If you keep messing about we'll never find what we want,' Daisy chided. 'Let's get on with it.'

  'Are you ladies all right in there?' the leprechaun enquired from the front room.

  'We're fine,' Amy answered. 'You've got so many, it's difficult to choose.'

  'I knew you'd be pleased,' he replied smugly. 'Take your time; we don't shut for another hour.'

  In the end, Amy chose a straight, pale blue dress with a stand-up collar and belted waist, which fitted as if it was made for her.

  Daisy too was delighted with her find: a pink floating thing with low neckline, and also with belted waist, it fell to a swingy hem that kicked out as she walked.

  'I feel like a film star,' she told Amy, and Amy was glad to see she had forgotten her troubles, at least for now.

  When the dresses were parcelled and paid for, they thanked the little man and left.

  'I'd best get the bus,' Daisy said. 'So, what time d'you want to meet at the Grand?'

  Hearing a tone of regret in Daisy's voice, Amy told her, 'You don't have to go home if you don't want to.'

  Daisy's smile returned. 'Really?'

  Judging by the relief in Daisy's voice, Amy knew she had done the right thing. 'Yes, really. I'd love you to come home with me. By the time we've had a bite to eat, we'll need to get ready, and then it'll be time to make our way into town.'

  'But what will your mam say?' Daisy knew what her own mother would say, if she took a friend home unexpectedly. 'Won't she be angry?'

  'Course not! She'll say exactly what I've said—that it seems silly you spending money on the bus fare to go all the way home, when you're already here.'

  'But I haven't got any lipstick. And I need to change my shoes and all that…' She would have gone on, but Amy stopped her.

  'You take the same size shoes as me, so borrow a pair of mine. And I'm sure you'll find the right colour lipstick, because you've borrowed it often enough when we've been out. Oh, come on, Daisy, I promise you'll look beautiful…' She chuckled. 'Well, passable, anyway.'

  She got a playful dig in the ribs for that cheeky remark, but Daisy was grateful that she wouldn't be going home just yet. 'By the time I get home tonight, they'll have calmed down,' she said, and if Amy needed any convincing that she had done the right thing, that remark did it.

  Linking arms they walked home together, with Amy wishing she could change things for Daisy; and Daisy thanking her lucky stars, for having found the best friend in the whole wide world.

  Amy was right. Marie and Dave welcomed Daisy with open arms. They had their tea: thick meat butties of home-made bread, and a delicious apple pie with ice-cream to follow.

  'I'll be so full I'll not be able to dance,' Daisy groaned, tucking in happily none the less.

  Afterwards the girls went up to Amy's room.

  'Oh, Amy, I do like your room.' Daisy had seen it before, and never failed to admire it. Pretty as a picture, with its rose chintz curtains and a cream-coloured rug, the room was furnished with just a wardrobe, bed and dressing table. Being at the back of the house it was not the lightest of rooms, but the light painted walls and the lovingly chosen seascape paintings created a sense of space and light that belied the smallness.

  'One of these days we'll decorate your room,' Amy promised, 'if your parents will let me through the door, that is.' Last time Daisy had taken her home, there had been a terrible row and ever since then, Amy had been reluctant to visit.

  'Thanks all the same, but you needn't bother,' Daisy replied. 'As soon as I can afford a place of my own, I intend leaving that house for good.' And from the tone of her voice, Amy knew she meant it.

  'Right then!' Taking Daisy by the arm, Amy propelled her towards the dressing table. 'You don't want your room decorated, so we'll have to see what we can do with your face instead.'

  'I don't want to be looking like a clown,' Daisy declared fearfully.

  'Now, would I do that?' Amy's mischievous little grin got Daisy worried.

  'I mean it, Amy! If you make me look ridiculous, I won't set foot outside this room.'

  Ignoring her protests, Amy found enough make-up to suit Daisy.

  A few minutes and a lot of grumbling later, she looked especially pretty. Her lips were lightly painted in the softest pink so as not to clash with the vibrant colour of her hair; a thin coating of powder on her skin and just the merest touch of mascara against her lashes and she was finished.

  'Now then, what do you think?' Amy asked. 'Have I made you look like a clown, or have I made you pretty as a picture?'

  Daisy was delighted with the result of Amy's handiwork. 'It's lovely,' she said, 'but what can we do about this?' Pointing to the marks on her neck, she reminded Amy, 'The dress has a low neckline, so folks are bound to see the bruises.'

  Amy had not realised the extent of Daisy's injuries until now. 'Oh God, Daisy. That looks nasty.' She lowered her voice, although no one would hear. 'Did your father do that?' she gasped. It beggared belief that a man could do that to his daughter.

  Daisy nodded. 'He had me pinned to the wall with the crook of his arm.' Under her breath she uttered the word, 'Bastard!'

  Amy knew about Mr Robertson's temper but hadn't realised he was so vicious. She squeezed Daisy's arm in silent but helpless sympathy. Then: 'Don't you worry, sunshine.' She had an idea. 'Stay there a minute.'

  Going to the wardrobe, she took out a box and from that she withdrew a pretty necklace. It had been a present from her father, something to help cheer her after Don left. Thick- banded with dangling pink stones, it was perfect for what she had in mind. 'This will not only go with your frock, it'll hide the blemishes as well,' she pointed out.

  Draping it round Daisy's neck she fastened it at the back. One look in the mirror told her that it had done the trick. 'There you are. Now stop your moaning!'

  Daisy gave a sigh of relief. 'You're a clever little bugger, aren't you?'

  Amy chuckled. 'I do my best. Now, come out of my seat and go and get your frock on. It's time for me to get myself ready.'

  'I'll not be long.' Taking her frock with her, Daisy went away to the bathroom. When she returned a few minutes later, her wild, wavy hair was brushed to a golden shine, and she looked so lovely, Amy leaped out of the seat and, coming to turn Daisy round and round, she told her, 'By! Every bloke in the room will want to dance with you.' Tutting loudly, she grumbled, The rest of us won't even get a look in!'

  'Are you telling me the truth, Amy?' Over the years Daisy's parents had dented her confidence until, now, she needed constant reassurance. 'Do I look nice? Do you really mean it?'

  'Of course I mean it, Daisy,' Amy answered warmly. 'You look beautiful.'

  She observed Daisy's bouncy mop of auburn hair and the pretty freckles that danced about her nose and eyes, and she meant every word.

  At half-past seven, looking pretty as two pictures, they came down the stairs to a round of applause.

  'You look a treat!' Dave was proud of them both.

  Marie was so impressed, she vowed to visit the secondhand shop next time she went into town.

  'Mind you behave yourselves!' Marie fussed as they went out the door. She made them put on a coat each and warned, 'It'll be chilly by the time you come out of there. And don't be back late,' she told Amy. Addressing Daisy she offered, 'If you want to come back and stay the night, you'
re very welcome, lass.'

  'Better not,' Daisy declined gratefully. 'My dad might take it into his head to come looking for me, and I wouldn't wish his presence on anybody.' Staying out until the early hours was one thing, but staying out all night would cause trouble and she daren't risk it.

  Chatting excitedly, the girls set off for the Grand. 'I wonder if there'll be any good-looking blokes there?' Daisy mused aloud. 'Somebody who's rolling in money and looking for a girl like me.'

  'You'll not find anybody rolling in money in this town,' Amy declared, 'except the mill-owners and businessmen, and they're all fat, bald and married.'

  'Not all,' Daisy corrected her. 'I've heard that Luke Hammond is a real knockout.'

  Amy was surprised. 'Dad works for Hammonds, but he never talks too much about his work, or his boss.'

  Then are useless!' Daisy declared scornfully. 'The poor devils just don't know how to gossip. All I know is what I were told, and they say he's a real good-looker.' Her eyes widening with anticipation she glanced about. 'D'you reckon he comes in here?'

  'I shouldn't think the poor man goes anywhere, what with running the factory and then his wife to look after. Remember she was beaten up, and needs constant care?'

  Daisy felt little sympathy. 'He's rich, isn't he? And if he's as caring as you say, I'm sure he's arranged for her to have the best of everything.'

  'I'm sure he has.' Amy felt both sympathy and curiosity. 'It's a terrible thing, though, don't you think—him having such a burden, and for his wife too…It can't be easy for either of them.'

  Daisy agreed, though she had to have the last word. 'It's a damned sight worse if you've not got money. My old grandad fell over one Friday night. Drunk as a lord he were…broke both his legs and lost his false teeth down the grating. Months he had to wait for a new pair. His sodding legs were mended afore he got his new teeth.' She laughed. Two crutches and no gnashers—what a state to be in!'