MB02 - Last Tram To Lime Street

by Joan Jonker

  Doreen felt as though she was floating on air. He was doing all the steps she’d learned at Connie Millington’s and their bodies were moving as one. He was definitely the best partner she’d ever had. ‘Pardon? What did yer say?’

  ‘I asked how yer feet are,’ he whispered in her ear. ‘He seemed to be givin’ yer a hard time.’

  Doreen waited until they’d completed a sequence of intricate steps before answering. ‘Oh, I didn’t mind. He’s got to practise on someone.’

  ‘You’re a good dancer.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Doreen grinned into his face. ‘Yer not bad yerself.’

  ‘I’ve never seen yer here before.’

  ‘That’s because I’ve never been before. Me an’ me mate usually go to the Grafton or Blair Hall. An’ now and again we go to Connie Millington’s.’

  ‘So that’s where yer learned to dance! I thought I recognised the style.’

  ‘Why?’ Doreen’s surprise showed on her face. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve been there?’

  ‘I used to go, but it’s over a year now. Before I went there I was even worse than the bloke yer’ve just danced with.’

  Doreen sighed inwardly when the dance came to an end … she could have gone on for ever. ‘Thank you.’ She turned to walk away but a hand on her arm held her back. ‘What’s yer name?’

  ‘Doreen.’

  ‘Well, Doreen, will yer save the next slow foxtrot for me?’

  Thrilled to pieces, Doreen nodded. Oh, boy, wait till she told Maureen!

  ‘Yeah, okay. But aren’t yer goin’ to tell me your name?’

  ‘Philip … but me mates call me Phil.’

  Doreen blushed when she realised they were the only two left on the dance floor. ‘I’ll see yer later, then, Phil.’

  Maureen’s face was eager as she hopped from one foot to the other. ‘Yer lucky blighter! D’yer know, if you fell down a lavatory yer’d come up smellin’ of roses.’

  ‘Mo, he’s absolutely gorgeous! He’s got the bluest eyes in the whole world and lovely white teeth. I felt like swooning every time he looked at me.’

  Maureen rolled her eyes. ‘Been reading True Confessions, have yer? Swooning, indeed! I thought that word went out with the ark.’

  For once there was no quick retort to Maureen’s friendly sarcasm. Doreen had other things on her mind. ‘He can’t half dance, Mo. An’ he’s asked me to save the next slow foxtrot for him.’

  ‘Then yer better start swooning,’ Maureen said drily, ‘’cos he’s halfway across the floor an’ the band haven’t even started up yet.’

  Doreen could feel her nails digging into the palms of her hands as she waited. Her tummy was churning with excitement but she wasn’t going to let him see she was that eager, so she stubbornly stood with her back to the dance floor until she felt a tap on her arm. ‘Would yer like to dance?’

  Doreen glanced at her friend for a second. ‘See you later, Mo.’ Then she walked into Phil’s outstretched arms and was soon gliding down the floor with a boy she’d just met, but who was making her heart beat like mad. The slow foxtrot was her favourite dance, but never had she enjoyed it as she was now. Their body movements and steps matched so perfectly it was hard to believe they’d never laid eyes on each other until tonight. Phil slowed down and held her away from him. ‘Will yer be here on Saturday?’

  Taken aback by the question, Doreen floundered. ‘I, er, I don’t think so … I always go out with Maureen on a Saturday.’

  ‘Well, she’s with yer tonight, so why can’t she come with yer on Saturday?’

  Doreen’s mind ticked over quickly. There was no point in telling him a lie because he might mention it to Maureen and her friend would unwittingly let the cat out of the bag. ‘We usually go out as a foursome on a Saturday, with two of the boys from work.’

  Disappointment showed on Phil’s face. ‘Yer’ve got a boyfriend, then?’

  ‘No! We’re all just good mates!’ That wasn’t a lie because although she liked Mike, it was only as a friend. ‘It only started because me mam said I was too young to walk home from a dance on me own. She knows Mike and Sammy and trusts them to get me home safe.’

  ‘They’re not with yer tonight.’

  ‘No … that’s why I’ll have to leave early.’

  ‘Yer look capable enough to be let out on yer own.’ Phil’s brow furrowed. ‘How old are yer?’

  ‘Sixteen.’ Then Doreen shook her head, grinning. ‘Actually, I’m not sixteen for another ten weeks.’

  Phil waited for the right beat, then danced away from the corner where they’d been marking time. ‘In that case I’d better make the most of it.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘Will yer have every dance with me?’

  Doreen felt so happy she thought her heart would burst, but her mind was clear enough to know she mustn’t appear too eager. So, as casually as she could, she answered, ‘If yer like.’

  ‘I do like.’ A smile lit up his handsome face. ‘Will yer be here next Tuesday?’

  ‘Perhaps.’ Doreen lifted her hand from his shoulder to wave at Maureen, who was dancing with a tall, skinny, sandy-haired boy whose face was covered in pimples. He was trying to waltz to the tempo of the slow foxtrot and looked confused because Maureen’s steps weren’t matching his own. And the look of disgust on her face was a picture no artist could paint. ‘Me mate’s having a bad time of it.’ Doreen stretched her neck to smile into Phil’s face. ‘The feller she’s dancing with doesn’t know his left foot from his right.’

  But Phil wasn’t interested in anyone but the girl he’d been attracted to from the moment he’d set eyes on her. He had to see her again. ‘Promise yer’ll come next Tuesday?’

  Doreen didn’t answer right away. She wanted more than anything to see him again but she couldn’t afford to go dancing twice in one week. The only way she’d been able to come tonight was by borrowing off Jill, and by the time she paid her sister back she’d be lucky if she had enough pocket money left for the Grafton on Saturday. ‘I’ll try, but I can’t promise.’

  ‘Ah, go on, say yer’ll come,’ Phil coaxed. ‘I want to see you again.’

  ‘It’s not that I don’t want to come.’ Doreen decided to tell the truth and shame the devil. ‘I just can’t afford to. I get lousy wages and they don’t run to two nights out a week.’

  ‘If that’s all that’s stoppin’ yer, I’ll pay for yer.’ He gazed down into her eyes. ‘I can meet yer outside.’

  Doreen shook her head, sending her long blonde hair swinging across her face. ‘I wouldn’t come without Mo, we go everywhere together.’

  They danced in silence for a while, both deep in concentration. Phil was only an apprentice and didn’t earn much himself, certainly not enough to pay for Doreen and her friend. He let out a deep sigh. ‘It looks as though I’ll never see yer again.’

  ‘Yes yer will … I’ll be here next Tuesday.’ There was a mischievous smile playing around the corners of Doreen’s mouth. ‘Come hell or high water, I’ll meet yer here at eight o’clock.’

  The look of surprise on Phil’s face turned to one of suspicion. ‘D’yer mean it, or are yer just fobbing me off?’

  ‘I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it. I promise yer I’ll be here next Tuesday.’

  ‘Smashing!’ Phil spun her around and around, ignoring the glares of the couples they brushed against. ‘The week won’t go quick enough for me.’

  The music came to an end, and as Doreen clapped in appreciation of the band, she was thinking that the week better hadn’t go too quickly or she wouldn’t be able to keep her promise.

  ‘You’re late.’ Molly closed the door behind Doreen. ‘What’s yer excuse this time, young lady? And don’t give me the one about not bein’ able to find yer coat in the cloakroom … that one’s got bells on.’

  ‘Ah, ray, Mam, I’m only ten minutes late! We just missed the tram by the skin of our teeth an’ had to wait ten minutes for the next one.’

  ‘Then yer should have left the dance five minutes e
arlier.’ Jack was sprawled in his chair, his legs stretched out in front of the hearth. ‘When yer Mam tells yer to be in by half ten, she means half ten, not a quarter to eleven.’

  Doreen put her dance shoes down at the side of the couch before undoing the buttons on her coat. She was so happy she didn’t mind getting told off. And she wasn’t going to answer back tonight either, ’cos she needed to get her mother in a good mood.

  ‘Did yer go window-shoppin’, Jill?’ Doreen came back after hanging her coat on the hall stand. ‘Seen the ring yer want yet?’

  Jill nodded, her eyes sparkling. ‘We went down to that little jeweller’s shop in London Road … I think it’s called Brown’s … and there it was, right in the middle of a tray in the front of the window. As soon as I saw it I fell in love with it. It’s a cluster, with a diamond in the centre surrounded by red stones. It mightn’t fit me, of course, but Steve said they can alter it. He’s taking me on Saturday to try it on and leave a deposit.’

  ‘I thought you wanted a solitaire?’ Doreen sat beside her mother on the couch. ‘That’s what yer’ve always said.’

  ‘I know.’ Jill sighed dreamily. ‘But as soon as I saw this one I knew it was the one I wanted.’ She tapped the small notebook resting on her lap. ‘I’ve just been adding up what we’ve got saved and how many more weeks we’ve got left.’

  ‘How much is the ring?’ Doreen grimaced when her mother delivered a sharp dig to her ribs. ‘What was that for?’

  ‘For bein’ so flamin’ nosy!’ Molly huffed. ‘Honest, that mouth of yours will get yer hung one of these days.’

  ‘It’s all right, Mam, I don’t mind.’ Jill smiled at her sister. ‘Four pounds, ten shillings and sixpence.’

  ‘Phew!’ Doreen whistled through her teeth. ‘Yer don’t come cheap, do yer, sis?’

  ‘Well, getting engaged is a once-in-a-lifetime thing, so Steve said I should only settle for a ring I really like.’

  ‘He’s right, too!’ Doreen flicked her hair back over her shoulders and crossed her long, slim legs. ‘Life’s short, so get what yer can out of it.’

  Molly leaned forward and tapped Jack’s leg with her toes. ‘D’yer hear that, love? Sweet fifteen an’ talkin’ about life being short. Not much down for us, is there? We must be ready for the knacker’s yard.’

  ‘I didn’t mean it like that,’ Doreen said quickly. ‘I just meant that we should try an’ get the best out of life.’

  Molly leaned an elbow on the arm of the couch and rested her chin on her clenched fist while she gazed at her daughter. She noted the sparkling eyes and sensed the tension in the slim body. She’s all on edge, this one, she thought. I bet a pound to a pinch of snuff she’s after something. ‘How did the dance go? Did yer meet any tall, dark, handsome fellers?’

  Doreen moved closer and whispered in her ear, ‘Actually, he was a tall, blond, handsome feller, Mam, an’ he couldn’t half dance.’

  ‘Dancing’s not the be-all and end-all, yer know, sunshine! It’s a person’s character yer should be interested in, not his flamin’ footwork.’

  ‘Mam, I only met the bloke tonight … had a few dances with him. I could hardly ask him for his family history, now could I? All I know is his name’s Philip, he’s a smashin’ dancer an’ he goes to Barlows Lane every Tuesday.’

  I wasn’t far wrong, Molly told herself. I can always tell with her, she gives herself away. ‘So yer’ll be goin’ to Barlows Lane again, eh?’

  Doreen tossed her head. This wasn’t turning out as she’d hoped, but now she’d started there was no going back. ‘It all depends.’

  Jack was looking on with interest. ‘Depends upon what, love?’

  ‘Whether me mam will let me get me sewing machine out.’

  ‘Not on your nellie!’ Molly said indignantly, sitting up straight. ‘I’m not havin’ that heavy thing on me new table.’

  ‘I’ll put a cloth over it, Mam, it won’t do no harm!’

  Jack lifted his hand for silence. ‘Just hang on a minute, yer’ve completely lost me! What on earth has the sewing machine got to do with going to a dance at Barlows Lane?’

  ‘Well I was makin’ a dress for Mary, from over the road, but me mam put a stop to it,’ Doreen got in quickly, hoping to gain sympathy before her mother had her say. ‘It’ll only take a couple of hours to finish it off, but I’ve nowhere to put the machine.’ She gazed at him with eyes begging for understanding. ‘Mary always gives me a shilling for making her a dress and if I got that I’d be able to pay our Jill back and have enough left to go to the dance.’

  ‘Yer can soft-soap yer dad as much as yer like,’ said Molly with a determined shake of her head. ‘In fact, yer can talk till the cows come home, but it won’t make any difference. Yer not puttin’ that heavy machine on me new table.’

  Jack was torn between the two of them. He didn’t like disagreeing with Molly in front of the children but he could see Doreen’s point of view. The few bob she earned by making clothes made all the difference to her. And he admired her initiative in trying to earn extra money instead of moaning about being skint. He stroked his chin while seeking a solution. It was no good trying to get around Molly, she wouldn’t even let him put his packet of cigarettes on the table, never mind a heavy sewing machine. The novelty would wear off eventually, but right now she guarded that furniture as though her life depended on it.

  Jack’s eyes lit on the aspidistra plant standing on the little table under the back window. ‘What about that table, wouldn’t it serve the purpose?’

  ‘No, it’s too small.’ Close to tears, Doreen hung her head. It didn’t look as though she’d see Phil again after all her promises. ‘The machine will fit on it, but there’s no room to spread the material out. It hangs down, pulls at the needle, breaks the cotton and the stitches go all wonky.’

  ‘I could sit at the side and hold the material,’ Jill offered. ‘I wouldn’t mind.’

  Molly shifted her gaze from Jill to Jack, and when she saw the look in his eyes she groaned inwardly. They’re on her side … they think I’m being mean. A feeling of guilt grew quickly, and with it the thought that they were right … she was being mean and childish. After all, what did she want for her children, a nice posh house where they were afraid of touching anything, or a proper home where they were comfortable and happy?

  ‘Okay, I give in! Yer can use the ruddy table.’

  A wide smile spread across Doreen’s face. ‘Oh, thanks, Mam!’ She threw her arms around Molly’s neck and hugged her. ‘I promise I’ll be careful.’

  ‘I’ll make sure yer careful, sunshine! There’ll be a thick blanket on the table an’ I’ll be watchin’ yer like a hawk.’

  Jack grinned as he struck a match to light his cigarette. He knew that if his wife hadn’t given in tonight she would have done so in the morning, after a sleepless night. She tried to make out she was strict, but deep down she was as soft as a brush, especially where the children were concerned: she’d run to the ends of the earth to make them happy.

  He lifted his cigarette and sent a ring of smoke rising to the ceiling. As he watched its progress, he sighed happily. Ah, well, we’ll all sleep soundly tonight.

  The loud rap on the door sounded urgent, and Molly hurried down the hall wiping her hands on the corner of her pinny. One look at Mary Watson’s face told her this wasn’t a social call. ‘What is it?’

  ‘I’m not sure, but I think there’s something wrong with Miss Clegg.’ Mary’s face was drained of colour. ‘I heard a funny noise on our wall, like a cup or something being thrown at it and smashing. I waited for a while, then it came again, the same kind of sound. I’ve banged and banged on her front door but there’s no answer. I’ve even been around the back to try and get in but the entry door’s bolted.’

  ‘Hang on a minute while I get me coat an’ me keys.’ Molly ran through to the kitchen, turned the gas low under the pan, grabbed her keys off the mantelpiece and collected her coat as she passed the hall stand. ‘Nellie’s got the
front-door key … it’s her turn to see to Miss Clegg’s dinner today.’

  Nellie’s beaming smile faded when she heard the reason for the unexpected visit from her two neighbours. ‘I’ve got ’er keys in here.’ She tapped the bulging pocket of her pinny as she led the way across the street. ‘I hope to God she’s all right.’

  ‘Better knock first in case we frighten her.’ Molly rapped on the knocker then pressed her ear to a panel on the door. ‘Not a dickie-bird, Nellie, yer better open up.’

  Nellie hesitated in the dark, narrow, silent hallway. ‘Coo-ee, Miss Clegg, are yer there?’

  When there was no answer, her eyes swivelled to Molly. ‘Shall we just go in?’

  ‘Of course we go in, yer silly nit!’ Molly hissed. ‘Isn’t that what we’re here for?’

  Nellie pressed herself back against the wall to let Molly pass. ‘You better go first, girl, I’m all of a dither.’

  Molly shot her friend a withering look before moving quickly down the hall. When she reached the living room door she stopped dead in her tracks and an icy chill ran through her body. Miss Clegg was sitting in her rocking chair by the side of the hearth, and at first glance it looked as though she had just fallen asleep. But the unnatural position of her body told Molly this was no ordinary sleep. The old lady was slumped to one side and an arm hung limply over the chair arm. Molly glanced back along the hall and beckoned. ‘Nellie, Mary, come quick.’

  Mary stood just inside the door, nervously biting her nails while Molly and Nellie gently sat the old lady up straight.

  ‘There now, that’s better.’ The faded grey eyes that looked into Molly’s were filled with terror, and it took all her self-control to keep her voice light. ‘First off, we’ll make yer a drink. Then we’ll see what yer’ve been an’ gone an’ done to yerself.’

  Dragging Nellie with her, Molly headed for the kitchen. ‘We’ll ’ave to send for the doctor. Poor soul’s had a stroke.’