When We Danced at the End of the Pier

by Sandy Taylor

  I walked quickly back down the aisle and knelt down again in front of the statue.

  I hope you don’t think I’m pushing it, Mary, but once you’ve sorted his dad out, could you see your way clear to getting Nelson a new jumper? Amen.

  I got up, then knelt back down again.

  He likes brown.

  Fourteen

  It was nearly Christmas and it was really cold in our house. Every night Daddy piled coats on our bed to try and keep us warm. One morning he came into the bedroom and said, ‘Quick, girls, look out of the window!’

  Me and Brenda scrambled out of bed and pulled back the curtains. Outside everything was white. While we had been sleeping a blanket of snow had covered the grass and the trees and the fences in all the gardens. It looked like a winter wonderland. ‘Snow!’ we screamed.

  We got dressed quickly and ran downstairs. Mum made us both eat a big bowl of porridge before we were allowed outside. We wrapped up in coats and hats and gloves and opened the back door. Everything looked clean and beautiful. We stood on the back step, almost afraid to step out into the snow.

  ‘Oh, Maureen,’ whispered Brenda, holding my hand. ‘It’s very beautiful, isn’t it?’

  ‘Very,’ I said.

  ‘What are you waiting for, girls?’ asked Daddy.

  Brenda looked up at him. ‘I’m not waiting for anything, Dada. I’m just looking. I could look at it forever.’

  ‘Well, I’m not waiting!’ said Daddy and jumped down the step and into the snow. ‘Come on, you two!’

  I took hold of Brenda’s hand and together we raced down the garden, screaming with joy, our feet crunching into the crisp white snow and leaving footprints behind us as we ran. Just then a great big snowball came flying over the fence and landed on my head.

  ‘Was that you, Jack Forrest?’ I shouted.

  ‘Certainly was!’ he shouted back. ‘I’m coming round, we’re going up the Downs.’

  ‘Is that OK, Daddy? Can we go up the Downs with Jack?’

  ‘I think the Downs is the best place to be on a day like today. You go and enjoy yourselves.’

  Me and Brenda ran round the side of the house. Jack was standing there with another snowball in his hand.

  ‘Don’t you dare, Jack Forrest.’

  Jack grinned but dropped the snowball.

  ‘I’ll call for Monica and you get Nelson,’ I said.

  ‘No need,’ said Jack.

  I looked up the street to see Nelson and Monica running towards us. Nelson was wearing his old brown jumper but no coat. Jack didn’t say anything; he just went into his house and brought out a coat, which he threw at Nelson. He also handed him a piece of bread and jam.

  ‘I’ve had my breakfast,’ mumbled Nelson.

  ‘Of course you have,’ said Jack. ‘But I couldn’t manage all of mine and Mum doesn’t like wasting food. You’ll be doing me a favour.’

  ‘Thanks, mate,’ said Nelson quietly.

  Something wasn’t right. I just knew something wasn’t right but I also knew that I couldn’t ask. I wondered why his mum had let him go out in the snow without a coat and I wondered why Jack had given him bread and jam. The whole thing was making me feel bad inside, just like worrying about my dad used to.

  The only difference was that I was used to worrying about my dad. I caught Jack’s eye; he was staring at me. I wanted to smile at him but I couldn’t and it looked as if he couldn’t manage a smile either.

  ‘We need something to slide down the hills on,’ said Monica. ‘Has anyone got anything?’

  I ran back into the house. Daddy was sitting at the kitchen table polishing the shoes.

  ‘What are you doing back?’ he said. ‘I thought you’d be sliding down hills by now.’

  ‘We’ve got nothing to slide down on, Daddy.’

  ‘Now, let me see,’ he said, scratching his head.

  ‘Mind the margarine, Daddy.’

  ‘Thank you, love.’

  I stared at him, waiting. Then he smiled. ‘What if I take the wheels off the old pushchair?’ he said, getting up. ‘That should work, what do you think?’

  ‘I think that would work nicely, Daddy.’

  I went outside and told the others.

  ‘My old pushchair?’ said Brenda, grinning. ‘Do you think it will still squeak?’

  ‘Not without the wheels,’ I said.

  ‘I remember that pushchair,’ said Monica, laughing. ‘It was a pain, you could hear it coming for miles.’

  We all sat on the wall and waited for Daddy to take the wheels off the pushchair.

  ‘I love the snow,’ said Nelson. ‘It’s looks as if someone has dipped a brush into a tin of white paint and made everything clean and fresh and new.’

  We stared at him with open mouths. Nelson wasn’t in the habit of coming out with stuff like that.

  ‘You sound like a poet, Nelson,’ said Monica and he went red and scratched at his head and we all laughed.

  Eventually Daddy came round the side of the house carrying the pushchair minus the wheels. ‘What do you think, kids?’ he said.

  ‘I think you’ve done a great job, Mr O’Connell,’ said Jack. ‘We’ll fly down the hills on that.’

  Daddy looked pleased and I felt really proud of him. As we started off down the road, I turned around. Daddy was still at the gate. I waved to him and he waved back. I wondered, as I always wondered when leaving him, whether I should have asked him to come with us. I knew that he would have loved it. I looked at the others walking ahead of me. Monica was hanging on to Brenda in case Brenda slipped over and Jack and Nelson were carrying the old pushchair. These were my friends and this was the way it should be. Perhaps me and Brenda could go up the Downs with Daddy tomorrow. Yes, that’s what we’d do, we’d go with Daddy tomorrow. That made me feel better and I ran to join the others.

  The sun was shining on the hills and they sparkled like a million pieces of crystal. I stood for a moment and breathed in the cold air. It caught the back of my throat and made me cough. I was glad to be here in this magical place with my best friends. I watched as they tumbled in the snow. Brenda was scooping up handfuls of it and letting it fall around her like a white cloud. Then I thought of Daddy and I wished he was beside me. I wanted to feel his hand in mine and I wanted him to feel the stillness and wonder of this magical day in this magical place. I wanted him to feel the silence, to taste it on his tongue and let it slip down into his heart. I wanted him to breathe it in and be comforted and at peace.

  I remembered other snowy days, when Daddy would take me and Brenda and the squeaky pushchair down to the beach. We would lean on the railings and watch the sea tumbling the white pebbles, washing away the snow and turning them back to greys and browns. I gazed out over the sparkling hills. I missed my daddy so much that the pain was colder than the air that I was breathing in. I missed my daddy when I wasn’t with him and I missed him when I was. It was like the Holy Trinity, it made no bloody sense.

  I ran to join my friends and we lay on the icy-cold ground and stared up at the grey sky and the trees bowed down under the weight of the snow piled on their branches.

  We had the best time ever; we took turns sliding down the hill. Some people had proper sledges but we didn’t care, we couldn’t have been more delighted with Brenda’s old pushchair. We sped down the hill, holding the handlebars tight and screaming as the snow sprayed around us, covering our coats and hats and scarves in a blanket of whiteness. Great thick flakes of it fell from the skies, sticking to our eyelashes and turning our hair snowy white. I caught Jack’s eye and we smiled at each other, my happiness complete. We stayed out until it got dark – we didn’t want the day to end, even though we were blue with the cold. We said goodbye to Nelson and Monica and the three of us walked home, pulling the old pushchair behind us.

  Fifteen

  It was two days before Christmas. Daddy took me and Brenda up onto the Downs and we collected armfuls of mistletoe and holly. The snow had gone, leaving the hills wet a
nd slushy, but I had seen them in all their snowy loveliness and I remembered.

  Mum draped the green holly and bright red berries across the mantelpiece and stuck the mistletoe over the doors. Everywhere looked lovely. We had a roaring fire in the grate. Daddy had put the wheels back on the old pushchair and me and Brenda had squeaked along behind the coalman’s cart as fast as we could, waiting for the coal to tumble into the road. Some kids put bits of wood down so that more coal bounced out off the cart. Then there was a scramble as all the kids nudged and elbowed their way to the precious black lumps. The coalman shouted at us but I don’t think he really minded because he knew that we were all bloody skint. We always saved the last mince pie for him as a thank you.

  Me and Brenda didn’t have any money to buy presents but Uncle John and Aunty Marge came to the rescue and let us help on the stall. Everyone at the market was in a Christmassy mood. People were dragging trees along the street and wearing tinsel around their heads. A choir started up and we packed oranges and apples and bananas to the sounds of ‘Silent Night’. It was lovely and I wished it could be Christmas every day. We stayed until it was too dark to see anything, then helped Uncle John to clear up. Aunty Marge gave us two whole shillings each: we were rich.

  We walked along Western Road staring into all the shops, dazzled by the brightness of the windows. Each one was decked out for Christmas and they sparkled with gold and silver tinsel and fairy lights that shone out across the wet pavements. Wade’s was the best shop in town. We couldn’t afford to buy anything there but we pressed our noses against the big window and stared at the beautiful dolls, dressed in pink satin coats and bonnets, and the dolls’ houses with all the little pieces of furniture and the shiny new bikes and the beautiful Teddy bears with their button eyes. We knew that we would never get presents like that but we didn’t mind, it was just lovely to look at it all. While we were standing there a man and a woman walked into the shop, holding the hands of a little girl. The girl looked about Brenda’s age and was wearing a dark blue velvet coat and a little blue felt hat. She stuck her tongue out at us as she passed.

  The beautiful dolly with the pink satin coat would probably be under her tree on Christmas morning. I wished I had enough money to buy that dolly for Brenda. I pulled her away from the window and half dragged her down the road.

  ‘Why are you cross, Maureen?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t bloody know! I just am.’

  ‘I don’t want a silly old doll.’

  I stopped and put my arm around her thin shoulders. ‘You deserve that dolly more than that stuck-up little madam.’

  Brenda smiled up at me. ‘She doesn’t have you though, does she? And I’d rather have you.’

  ‘What would I do without you, Brenda O’Connell?’

  ‘You don’t have to do without me, I’ll always be here.’

  We left Wade’s and walked down the road until we came to Woolworths.

  ‘I like Woolworths best,’ said Brenda.

  ‘Me too,’ I replied, grinning.

  The two shillings were burning a hole in my pocket but I knew that I had to spend them wisely.

  Just inside the door was a beautiful Christmas tree covered in lovely decorations. Me and Brenda stood looking up at the fairy sitting on the top.

  Brenda gave a big sigh. ‘How perfectly beautiful,’ she whispered.

  I smiled down at her.

  ‘Are we going to have a tree?’ she said.

  ‘I don’t expect so, but we’ve got the lovely holly and the mistletoe so we don’t need a tree, do we?’

  ‘I suppose not. It would be nice though, wouldn’t it?’

  ‘Yeah, it would be nice but I don’t think we’ve got the money to buy one.’

  ‘I don’t need a tree.’

  ‘Course you don’t. It’s only a lump of wood with a few needles on it. Anyway, we’ve got nothing to decorate it with.’

  ‘No bloody point then, is there?’

  ‘You shouldn’t swear, Brenda.’

  ‘You do.’

  ‘That’s different.’

  ‘Why is it different?’

  ‘Cos I’ve got a bad mouth on me and you haven’t.’

  ‘I’d like to have a bad mouth on me, Maureen.’

  ‘Well, you can’t. It takes practice, you can listen to mine.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  The counters were piled high with baubles and tinsel and paper lanterns and red crêpe paper and plastic Father Christmases and little wooden soldiers in green and red uniforms.

  We used some of our money to buy a packet of hairgrips for Mum and a pouch of baccy for Dad.

  ‘Now I’m going to do a bit of shopping on my own. I’ll meet you back here by the tree, don’t talk to anyone and don’t leave the shop,’ I said.

  ‘Can I look at the toys?’

  ‘Yeah, you go and look at the toys.’

  I wanted to get something for Brenda and Jack and Nelson. The store was packed, kids were running around, mums were screaming at them and dads were smoking their heads off and looking grumpy. There were so many people in there that there was hardly room to breathe as they pushed and shoved their way towards the counters. It was perfect, it was the way Christmas was supposed to be, and I loved it. I squeezed under armpits and through peoples’ legs to get to the front of the queue.

  The bloke behind the counter was dressed up as Father Christmas and he smiled at me. ‘What yer looking for, love?’

  ‘I want something for my sister Brenda and something for my friend Jack.’

  ‘What did you have in mind?’

  ‘I don’t exactly know.’

  He rummaged around under the counter and said, ‘Do you think your sister would like this?’

  He was holding up a wooden monkey that climbed up a stick, did a somersault at the top and then climbed back down again. ‘I think Brenda would love that,’ I said. ‘How much is it, please?’

  ‘It’s a shilling,’ said the man.

  I shook my head. ‘That won’t leave me enough to get something for Jack and Nelson.’

  ‘Oops, I’ve made a mistake! It’s sixpence. Will that suit you?’

  ‘That will suit me perfectly,’ I said, smiling at him.

  The man winked at me and put the monkey in a paper bag. ‘Have a nice Christmas, love.’

  ‘And you have a nice Christmas.’

  Now, what should I get for Jack?

  I walked over to the toy section where I could see Brenda gazing longingly at the dolls peeping out of their boxes. I put my arm around her. ‘When I start work, I’m gonna get you one of them.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘I said so, didn’t I?’

  ‘Thanks, Maureen.’

  ‘I’m looking for something to give to Jack.’

  ‘How about a tin soldier? He likes tin soldiers.’

  ‘He’s got loads of them already. It won’t be special. I want to get him something special.’

  ‘What about a hankie?’

  ‘Nah.’

  And then I saw it, the perfect present. It was a little wooden box and on the lid was a picture of John Wayne on a horse. I still had some pennies left and I knew exactly what I was going to get with them. I wandered around until I found the wool counter.

  There was a young girl standing behind the counter. She looked bored out of her skull.

  ‘I’ll have this, please. It’s for a Christmas present,’ I said, picking up a ball of brown wool.

  ‘Funny sort of present,’ she said.

  ‘No, it’s not,’ said Brenda, jumping to my defence.

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t be thrilled if you gave me a ball of brown wool for Christmas.’

  ‘Well, that’s alright them,’ I said. ‘Cos I’m not giving it to you, am I? I’m giving it to someone I like.’

  ‘Well, I hate to think what you’re giving to someone you don’t like.’

  She put the wool in a bag and I passed over the last of my pennies.

  ‘Silly mare,’ I
said, walking away.

  ‘Silly mare,’ said Brenda.

  Sixteen

  I was woken by Brenda shouting, ‘Wake up, he’s been!’

  ‘Who’s been?’ I said, sitting up and rubbing my eyes.

  ‘The fat bloke with the stuff, there were two socks at the end of the bed. Shall we take them into Mummy and Dadda’s room, Maureen?’

  I jumped out of bed and pulled back the curtains. I had to scrape the ice off the window to see outside and everywhere was white and frosty. It was bloody freezing, so I jumped back into bed and snuggled down under the covers.

  ‘I think it’s too early to get up.’

  Brenda snuggled into me. ‘It’s Christmas Day, Maureen. Isn’t that just perfectly wonderful?’

  ‘Perfectly wonderful,’ I said, giving her a squeeze.

  ‘Can I have a feel of my sock?’

  ‘Course you can.’

  ‘Do you want to have a feel of yours?’

  ‘OK.’

  Brenda reached to the bottom of the bed and got the socks. They were knobbly and squishy and exciting.

  ‘I think I can feel an orange,’ said Brenda.

  ‘I think I can as well.’

  ‘And something hard.’

  ‘A pencil?’

  ‘Maybe it’s a pencil. Can we get up now?’

  Daddy put his head around the bedroom door. ‘I thought you two would be downstairs by now.’

  ‘We didn’t want to wake you,’ I said.

  ‘I’ve been up for ages. Hasn’t anyone told you that it’s Christmas Day?’

  ‘We know it’s Christmas Day, Dadda, because the fat bloke’s been.’

  ‘Has he now? Well, you must have been very good girls.’

  ‘Do you think we’ve been very good girls, Dadda?’ said Brenda.

  ‘I think you’ve been the best girls in See Saw Lane. Now, come on, I’ve lit a lovely big fire.’

  We jumped out of bed, grabbed the socks and raced downstairs.

  ‘Now close your eyes,’ said Daddy.

  The first thing I noticed was the smell. It was like being in the middle of a wood, in a land that I’d never been in before. It made my heart swell with happiness.