by Sallie Day
Gunner is too busy snuffling at a patch of dirty yellow groundsel to reply. Together they wander slowly down the street. Every now and again Beth gets a glimpse into one of the backyards. Some are neatly flagged and crossed with lines filled with swags of drying clothes, while others are an uproar of bicycle parts, gaping windows, broken slates and dumped ash. Gunner plows on and Beth follows, the back of her neck tingling with excitement. They walk in step now, as if they belonged together, and the pain in Beth’s chest slowly subsides. Beth’s eyes are wide open, drinking in the new experience of being totally lost. The world around her is unfamiliar, an entirely new sight greets her at every corner. She is like an explorer setting foot in a different world. At last Gunner comes to a full stop in front of a solid black gate marked
KEEP OUT
STRICTLY PRIVATE
Gunner pauses a moment, then pushes his nose against the bottom corner. Beth steps back, pulling lightly on the lead and whispers, “No, Gunner. It says keep out.” But Gunner scratches at the gate and looks back at her. “No! It’s not allowed. It says so.” Impatient now, Gunner presses hard with his nose. The gate opens just enough to allow the dog to wriggle through. Beth is horrified and promptly hauls the lead back, but it’s too late—the gate swings open.
Tiger Woman is lounging in a ragged deckchair with her feet up on a broken raffia footstool. Above her head is a washing line full of the most peculiar clothes Beth has ever seen—tiny trousers with turn-ups and covered in gold braid, a brassiere that’s packed full—not like the empty ones her mother has—and lastly a huge gray bag that is painted with scales and ends in a tail. Beth can’t think who would want to wear clothes like this. Tiger Woman looks different from what she looks like on the poster. She’s got a cigarette hanging out of the corner of her mouth and she’s reading a copy of Tidbits. She must have just come off stage because Beth can see she’s still wearing her costume under a big blue dressing gown. But if Beth is surprised to come face-to-face with Tiger Woman, then Tiger Woman looks equally alarmed to see Beth.
It is Tiger Woman who takes the cigarette from her mouth and finally breaks the silence. “Well, come in, then. Let’s be seeing you.” Beth gasps and her eyes open even wider. “Come on. I won’t bite!”
Tiger Woman must think this is a joke because she laughs. Beth edges forward into the yard, but keeps herself ready to turn and flee. “That dog is a right scallywag, isn’t he? He’s round here every day looking for food.” Tiger Woman sits up straight in her deckchair and pats her knee. “Come on, then.”
Gunner jumps straight into Tiger Woman’s lap and the resultant jerk on the lead pulls Beth even further into the yard. “What’s the matter, pet?”
“You can speak!” Beth says.
“Of course I can! What’s so special about that?”
“But when I saw the picture of you the man said you didn’t speak. Not since the tigers dragged you away.”
“Which man?”
“The little man who shouts a lot. The one who told me to hop it.”
“Malcolm? Malcolm the Midget? You don’t want to listen to a word he says.” Tiger Woman has to lift her voice to be heard over the sound of Gunner snuffling through her pockets. “He’s looking for a tidbit. He’s a right soft bonnet, aren’t you? Is he your dog, then?”
“Oh, no. But I wish he was. I’m just taking him for a walk for the man that owns him. He’s called Gunner.”
“Oh, Gunner, is it? And I’ve been calling him Scruff! And what’s your name?”
“Beth.”
Tiger Woman runs her scarlet fingernails through Gunner’s fur and the dog arches in pleasure, lying back in her arms and lifting his throat to be tickled. Tiger Woman takes her feet off the raffia stool and says, “Here, you park your bottom, pet, while I get him his usual.” Tiger Woman passes the dog over to Beth, who is overwhelmed to receive the pliant bundle. She would never dare pick up Gunner by herself. He’s supposed to be fierce. Dog and child stare at each other for some moments.
“Good boy, Gunner,” Beth ventures.
The dog half closes his eyes and remains silent. Beth cuddles him very carefully. The sound of Tiger Woman’s return enervates the apparently slumbering form of Gunner. He is immediately awake and leaps out of Beth’s arms to greet her. Tiger Woman skips down the steps from the back door with a bundle in a paper serviette in each hand. She hands one to Beth. The girl hesitates. It’s very wrong to take presents from strangers. Girls who don’t pay attention to rules like this end up in danger. Beth has been warned.
“Come on, pet. It won’t be a hot dog for long. It’s going cold already.” Beth still hesitates. “Well, if you don’t want it…”
Beth is at a loss to know what to do. To turn her nose up at the gift would be rude, but eating it might prove dangerous. There are implied but unspecified dangers involved in consuming “junk.” She looks down. Gunner has polished off the bun and is now savoring the onion and sausage. Inspired, Beth takes the bundle and unwraps the serviette to reveal a hot dog in a bun. Beth has never before come this close to a hot dog. She’s smelled them and seen pictures of them but her mother has always refused to buy them. Hot dogs are forbidden food. Beth takes a small bite. Her teeth sink into the fluffy bun. Heaven. Another bite brings her first taste of the hot dog sausage. Salty juices escape from her mouth and run down her chin. The mixture of smoky meat and boiled onions melts in her mouth. She has never tasted anything so delicious. Another bite confirms the sensation.
Gunner has finished his treat and is holding down the serviette with one paw while licking off the residue of onion. He looks up at his walking companion, eager to catch her eye. Beth ignores the dog and continues eating. The dog sits at her feet, willing her to look at him, but still Beth feigns ignorance of his presence. Gunner is not a dog to beg. He waits in the hope of any falling debris and when it doesn’t arrive he treads firmly on the front of her sandal. Beth moves her foot and continues chewing. Aware that the girl is coming to the end of her hot dog and frustrated by his apparent failure to coax a tidbit from her, Gunner moves in still closer and rests his chin on her knee. A sound somewhere between a yelp and a growl vibrates in the dog’s throat. It is a difficult appeal to ignore, delivered as it is with a turning of brown eyes and a tilting of the head. Gunner’s nose brushes the back of Beth’s hand. Defeated, she picks a single sliver of onion from the bun and watches as the dog lifts it neatly from her fingers.
Once the feast is finished Beth turns her attention back to her benefactor. “Thank you,” she says with complete honesty. “That was the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”
“Give over! I can’t believe you’ve never had a hot dog before!” Tiger Woman sees a look of embarrassment cross Beth’s face and adds, “Still, you have now and that’s all that matters.”
Filled with the warm reassurance that only forbidden food can supply, Beth looks hard at Tiger Woman and says, “Did you have to go into hospital for your scars?”
Tiger Woman is taken aback. She looks carefully at the girl before saying, “No, I didn’t go.”
“You’re lucky.”
“Why? Have you been in hospital?”
“Yes. I’ve got a scar all over my back and under my arm.”
“Have you? But you’re better now, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know. It could happen again, couldn’t it?”
“What could happen?”
“Blue lips. People don’t like it when I have blue lips. They don’t want to play with me because I’m ugly.”
“You don’t look ugly to me. Your lips are a pretty shape and the only blue I can see is in your eyes. They’re a lovely blue, just like the sea.”
“Well, Susan Fletcher came to see me when I was ill. And she asked and asked me to show her my scar and when I did she was so sick she had to go straight home. And I didn’t even get the lolly she said she’d give me. And now I’m never allowed to do PE on Tuesdays at school. Or Music and Movement on Thursdays or Dancing on Fridays.
”
“That’s a shame. Why don’t you join a club?”
“Not allowed.”
“Well, haven’t you got friends to play with at the weekend?”
Beth shakes her head. “My sister works on Saturdays. And Sundays I have to go to Sunday School. Mrs. Brunskill told me off last time. She gave me a drawing of Jesus to crayon and I made it into a picture of my sister instead.”
Tiger Woman laughs. “Why on earth did you do that?”
Beth wrinkles up her nose and purses her lips. “Jesus is boring. There’s nothing to color in for Him except brown for His hair and pink for His hands and feet. The rest of Him is white. I gave Him yellow hair like Helen and I colored in her best blue dress and red shoes. It looked just like Helen when I’d finished.”
“So have you no one to play with at weekends? Are there no children your age who live nearby?”
“There’s Robert but he’s always getting into trouble. Mr. Kerkley swore at him. And there’s Kathleen and Mary who live at the bottom of the street. I really like them, but Mummy always sends them away when they call for me.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re Catholics.”
Tiger Woman listens carefully, feels in her pocket for a hanky and leans forward in her chair to wipe the mustard and sausage juice from Beth’s chin. “That’s no reason to send them away. Catholics are just the same as you and me. Why were you in hospital?”
“The doctor said I had a hole in my heart. But I’ve never seen it so I don’t know. But then they made a hole in my back and it didn’t have a hole before but it does now. I didn’t have no scars until then and now I’ve got lots of them. And they said it won’t hurt and it did. And I get smacked if I tell lies, but they don’t. Anyway, I hate them all. I hate all of them except my daddy and Helen.”
“Is Helen your sister?”
“Yes, and she does my writing for me but she won’t be able to when I go back to school. I’ll have to do it myself and sometimes I can’t remember how to do all the letters. And if I go to the bottom of the class then they’ll move me into the ‘B’ class and I won’t pass my Eleven Plus, and then I won’t go to grammar school like Helen.”
“That’s not such a disaster, is it?” Tiger Woman replies, although she can see from a glance at her visitor’s face that it is. “Well,” she continues, “at least you’re better now, aren’t you?”
“Dr. Richmond said I was getting better, but I heard my mummy saying I was too ill to go on holiday. And she’s always saying she might lose me, and I think it’s because she doesn’t like me now I’ve got scars.”
“Well, I always think that scars aren’t too bad. I mean, by the time you have a scar you’re better, aren’t you? It means the cut has healed. The scars on my back hurt a lot when I got them but they don’t hurt at all now.”
“Where did you get them?”
Tiger Woman hesitates before answering. “Somebody hurt me.”
“In the jungle? Was it a tiger?”
“Oh, it was a long time ago. All forgotten now. I’m more interested in you. I don’t think you’ll be bottom of your class. Were you bottom before?”
“No, Susan Fletcher was bottom.”
“Well, there you are! I’m sure you’ll never be bottom of the class. You seem very clever to me.”
“I’m not. I’m stupid. I can’t read the clock. Everyone learned it in Mrs. Williams’s class when I was in hospital. And I can’t learn it because I’ve got a lazy eye and I’m so far behind I’ll never catch up.”
“I don’t think so. And anyway, school doesn’t matter that much. What do you want to be when you grow up?”
Beth sniffs hard and swallows. “I’d like to be pretty like you.”
“Well, you don’t need to be top of the class to be pretty. What else would you like to be?”
Beth begins to cry and Tiger Woman lifts her from the raffia stool on to her knee and strokes her hair.
“I’d like to be a Tiger Woman.” Beth sobs. “Then they wouldn’t dare do things to me if I was a tiger. I’d tear them to pieces.”
“Well, you’re halfway to being a tiger already, aren’t you? Tigers are very, very brave. Just like you.”
Beth shakes her head, remembering the operation. “I’m not brave, not like a tiger.”
“Oh, you are. You’re the bravest little girl I’ve ever met. You can be anything you want to be. Even a Tiger Woman. You have my word for it. I can spot a tiger when I see one.” Tiger Woman flexes her scarlet claws, bares her teeth and roars until the sound fills the air. Beth jumps and then laughs, delighted by the scare. “So where do you live?”
“At home with Mummy and Daddy.”
“Not in Blackpool, then? You’re here on holiday?” Beth nods. “Well, I’m due back on stage in five minutes so I’d better go in and get ready. And you’d better be getting back—your mum will be worrying about you. Which hotel are you staying at?”
“The Bell-dear.”
Tiger Woman looks flummoxed for a minute before she bends down and looks at the tag on the dog’s collar. “Oh, you mean the Belvedere.”
“Yes. Do you know the way? I was playing a game on the way here and I don’t know the way back.”
“It’s one of those big hotels at North Pier, I think. Just a minute. I’ll see what I can do.”
When Tiger Woman returns she takes Beth by the hand and leads her down a side alley, which comes out on the prom beside the billboards advertising the Palace of Strange Girls. Tiger Woman lifts her fingers to her mouth and whistles. A taxi appears out of the crush of traffic and holidaymakers, and in a moment both Beth and Gunner are ensconced in the back of the car and heading for the hotel.
18
Beachcombing
There’s nothing more interesting than walking along the beach after a storm. Things that were hidden are suddenly visible. Score 20 points for a shocking discovery.
Jack looks at his watch as he’s buying his third pint at the Albion. It’s eight o’clock. Connie will be sat on her bed, dressed up to the nines and waiting for him. But Jack has no intention of turning up. He despises himself for not telling her this afternoon, but it might have led to a scene in front of Sputnik and God knows he can’t afford that. It’s easier to keep out of Connie’s way and hope nothing blows up before he leaves on Saturday. He glances around the bar in case Dougie has turned up, but there’s no sign. Jack takes his next pint outside and sits down at one of the wooden tables overlooking the prom. He is well into his fourth pint before Dougie finally appears.
“Evenin’, Jack.”
“What kept you?”
“Doug has bloody scored again. The door was locked when I got back to the hotel and there was no way he was going to let me in. In the finish he opened the door a crack, gave me a fiver and told me to bugger off. Considering he’d got another lass in bed, he didn’t look that suited. I’d be over the bloody moon if I got my end away half as often as he does. I’d be happy if I managed it once. I haven’t been near a woman since his mother upped and left. Anyway, why are you down in the dumps?”
“I’m all right,” Jack says, peering into the bottom of his glass.
“Oh, it’s that bad, is it? I’d better get another round in.”
Dougie returns from the bar with two pints and a couple of whisky chasers. He puts the tray down on the table and gives Jack a long look. “If there’s nowt wrong then why were you so keen to meet up tonight? What’s up? Have I to guess? It’s like that program on the radio, Twenty Questions.”
“The whole bloody thing is unraveling.”
“What is?”
“Everything. It’s disaster everywhere I look. I’ve had enough, Dougie. For two pins I’d bugger off.”
“Give over! You wouldn’t leave Ruth and the girls.”
“I wouldn’t have to. They’d leave me if they knew.”
It’s nine in the evening and the men watch as the wind brawls along the prom, whipping up a rage of dust, chip pa
pers and orange peel. It’s fair blustery. You can hear the thwack of waves breaking over the prom across the road.
“Well, if you’re determined to get plastered at least slow down a bit and let me catch up.”
The two men sit in a companionable silence, sipping their beer and watching the waves break over the seawall.
“Come on, spit it out. What have you done that’s so bad?” Dougie asks.
“I’ve got mixed up with a waitress.”
Dougie slaps Jack on the back and cracks out laughing. “Is that all? For God’s sake, I thought it was summat important.”
“It is! She’s barely out of school. She’s… she’s not even…” The words peter out. Jack’s head sinks on to his chest. He can’t bring himself to finish the sentence.
Dougie doesn’t say anything. He just looks at Jack, waiting for the rest of the story. But Jack is silent for so long that Dougie is finally forced to ask, “OK, you’ve been having some fun with a waitress. It was a mistake, but it’s not the end of the world. Is it?”