by Sandy Taylor
‘I’m going to do everything I can to make her happy again.’
Ralph held my face in his hands. ‘You don’t know how happy it makes me to hear you say that.’
We held each other close in this little flat that overlooked the sea, this little flat that was going to be our new home, and I thought that I would burst with happiness.’ Shall we join the others?’ I asked. The bed can wait.
‘I’ll race you down the stairs,’ said Ralph, grinning.
As we were running down the stairs we almost bumped into a man coming up them. He held out his hand. ‘Tristan Blake,’ he said, smiling. ‘Flat below yours.’
We both shook his hand.
‘How’s the move going?’
‘Slowly,’ said Ralph. ‘But we’re getting there.’
‘Any help with the heavy stuff, just come and knock on the door.’
‘Was it you that cleaned it?’ I asked.
‘Guilty as charged, but I didn’t do it on my own. Stephen helped as well.’
‘Well thank you,’ I said. ‘You even managed to get rid of the smell.’
‘It was an old bag of potatoes under the couch. Can you believe that? Under the couch? It made poor Stephen retch. He’s got a weak stomach, poor boy. I’m glad you are pleased with it. I’m surprised Rose managed to rent it out in the state it was in.’
‘I nearly said no, but then I looked out of the window, and I was sold.’
‘Oh, the view, that’s the best thing about the flat. Stephen and I are very envious. We even considered moving up there ourselves, but poor Stephen’s got wonky knees. Well I hope you will be very happy here. Darling Rose is an absolute sweetie. Now, once you’ve settled in, you must come and have drinks with us. Stephen is dying to meet you. He will be so jealous that I’ve met you first.’
‘We’d love to,’ said Ralph, ‘but it might be a bit difficult once my daughter is with us.’
‘Rose told us all about your little girl. Stephen and I adore children, so you can just bring her with you.’
‘Thanks,’ said Ralph. ‘We will.’
We bought two strawberry cones and walked down to the beach to meet Clark and Emma.
They were sitting on the pebbles right at the edge of the sea.
‘Isn’t this glorious?’ said Emma, smiling. ‘I could stay here forever, I absolutely could.’
Clark leaned over and kissed her. ‘You are so sweet,’ he said.
‘Be careful where you sit,’ said Emma. ‘There’s lots of tar around.’
‘Always has been,’ I said. ‘Mum used to get so mad at us when we came home covered in the stuff.’
‘I remember that,’ said Clark, laughing.
The four of us lay down side by side. I looked up at the clear blue sky and listened to the sea rattling the pebbles on the beach. I’ll make Peggy happy if it’s the last thing I do. Can you hear me Mary? I’ll make Peggy happy. I promise I will.
That first night in the flat was wonderful. We sat on packing cases eating fish and chips out of the paper. We opened the little window and let the sounds and smells of the sea drift into the room. The joy of being on our own at last was overwhelming. We kept smiling and feeding chips into each other’s mouths and giving each other salt and vinegar kisses. A place of our own, the start of a new life together – it seemed that we had waited for this moment the whole of our lives.
As darkness fell over Brighton we made love. We explored each other’s bodies; we tasted each other’s skin. There was no taking, only giving and more giving, until I was taken to a place I hadn’t known existed. We slept in each other’s arms until the sun, streaming through the bare window, woke us up. We smiled at each other, remembering last night.
‘Do we have to get up?’ I groaned, snuggling down the bed so that my head rested on Ralph’s chest.
‘Nope,’ said Ralph. ‘We can stay here forever, until Mrs Toshimo sends Tristan and Stephen up here to investigate the smell. Only it won’t be a bag of potatoes this time.’
‘And we’ve still got loads of unpacking to do,’ I said, yawning.
‘Looks like it’s going to be a lovely day. We can take Peggy down the beach later.’
‘What time are you collecting her?’ I asked.
‘After breakfast. I thought we could take a picnic onto the beach, or we could cook if you like.’
I liked the thought of cooking our first meal together in the flat. ‘What’s Peggy’s favourite food?’
‘Shepherd’s pie,’ said Ralph. ‘Definitely shepherd’s pie.’
‘In this weather?’
‘In any weather.’
‘Okay, you fetch Peggy and I’ll shop.’
There was an open-all-hours shop opposite the West Pier called Raji’s. It was about the only grocer’s open on a Sunday for miles. The only other shops that were trading were the rock shops and places selling postcards, so we were lucky.
It was a beautiful day. There were children riding scooters and bikes along the seafront, followed by mums and dads carrying buckets and spades and blankets. What was there not to love about this place? I felt sure that in time Peggy was going to love it too.
I carried the food up the three floors to the flat. There was no chance of getting unfit living here. For the next hour I busied myself cooking and hanging clothes in wardrobes. I found Ralph’s Dansette record player, then dug around in the boxes until I found his records. I chose ‘Penny Lane’ by the Beatles. I was happily singing along to it when I heard footsteps on the stairs. Ralph came into the room. I looked behind him expecting to see Peggy, but he was alone.
I stared at Ralph, confused. ‘Where is she?’
‘She wouldn’t come.’
‘Why?’
He shrugged his shoulders. He looked so sad. ‘She just wouldn’t budge. I told her about the shepherd’s pie that you were making for her. I told her about the new room that was waiting for her. I tried everything but she just wouldn’t have it. Mum even said that she would come with us, but nothing worked. The more I tried to persuade her, the more upset she became. In the end I had to leave her behind.’
We sat together on the couch, both of us lost in our own thoughts and neither of us knowing what to do.
31
I’d spent the morning cleaning the kitchen and now I’d had enough, so I decided to call on Mum. When I got there, Mum and Rita were pinning up some material that was spread out on the kitchen table. Mum couldn’t say hello, because her mouth was full of pins, and Rita couldn’t say hello in case her face cracked.
‘So what are you making?’
‘Curtains for Miranda Louise’s bedroom,’ said Rita.
The curtains were cream and covered with pink letters of the alphabet. ‘They’re really pretty,’ I said.
‘Yes, we think so,’ said Rita. ‘We thought it was time to introduce something educational into the nursery.’
‘Bit young for that, isn’t she?’
‘No, she’s not. If you surround a child with educational toys from an early age they will find it easier to learn later on. They’re like sponges at this age.’
‘Where did you learn that pearl of wisdom?’
‘It’s common knowledge in the world of education. You need to bear that in mind with Peggy, although she might be a bit old to benefit from it now.’
‘Too old at five?’
‘I don’t know why I bother talking to you.’
Mum spat the pins out of her mouth.
‘Mind the material, Mum!’ shouted Rita.
‘Sorry, love.’
I smiled at Mum.
‘I didn’t expect you round. I thought you’d still be up to your eyes in boxes.’
‘Nope, we’re all unpacked.’
‘So how are you settling in?’
‘I love it there, Mum, and I love being so close to the sea.’
‘And Peggy? I bet she loves having the beach on her doorstep.’
‘She’s not with us.’
‘Where is she?�
�
‘At Ralph’s mother’s.’
‘But why?’
‘Because we can’t get her to move into the flat.’
Mum looked really concerned. ‘Oh dear.’
And then of course Rita had to put her two pennerth in.
‘What on earth do you mean you can’t get her to move into the flat?’
‘Just like I said, Rita, she won’t move in.’
‘And you’re going to indulge her in this, are you?’
‘What would you suggest we do? Drag her there kicking and screaming?’
‘Now, Dottie,’ said Mum.
‘Well, she seems to have the answer to everything. I’m surprised Nigel bothers buying a newspaper. All he has to do is ask Rita, font of all knowledge.’
‘I’ll ignore that remark, Dottie Perks, and just remind you that I am a mother, I have a child, so I am in a better position to have an opinion about bringing up a child than you are, and if you want my opinion—’
Which I didn’t.
‘It seems to me,’ she carried on, ‘that she is just being a spoilt little brat, and she needs to be reminded that she is a child who needs to do as she is told.’
I hated hearing these words coming out of Rita’s mouth. It made me want to stand up for Peggy, to be on her side. It made me love her more.
‘You’re being too harsh on the child,’ said Mum. ‘She’s had a lot of changes lately. You can’t just expect her to do as she’s told. She’s not a robot, Rita. She has feelings, you know.’
‘Well I won’t stand any of that nonsense from Miranda Louise, I can tell you that.’
‘Let’s hope you won’t have to,’ I said.
‘How long are you going to let it go on, love?’
‘I’m leaving it to Ralph.’
‘Is there anything I can do?’
‘It’s all such a mess, Mum. We just want to get her home with us.’
‘Well that’s the trouble, isn’t it?’ said Rita. ‘She thinks she is home.’
I had never thought about it like that. ‘I think you’re right, Rita.’
Rita looked completely stunned that I’d actually agreed with her for once.
‘Yes well…’
‘Now come on, Rita, your Aunty Brenda will be here soon.’
‘Aunty Brenda’s calling in?’
‘She’s doing the sewing. We were doing the pinning, to give her a hand.’
‘Good, I need to talk to her about going to London with Carol.’
‘Why are you going to London with Carol?’ said Rita.
‘She's been spotted,’ said Mum.
‘What do you mean she’s been spotted?’
‘For modelling.’
‘Carol?’
‘She was approached in the butcher’s,’ said Mum.
‘Carol was approached in the butcher’s for modelling?’
If Mary had been here now we would have been making faces at each other. Mary found Rita hilarious. We could never keep straight faces when she started going on.
‘Dottie said she’d go with her to London in case he was a white slave trader.’
‘Oh for heaven sakes. What would a white slave trader be doing in the butcher’s?’
‘Well I suppose even white slave traders have to eat,’ I said innocently.
Just then Aunty Brenda came through the back door.
‘Dottie,’ she said. ‘Just the person I want to see. Lovely material, Rita.’
‘We think so,’ said Rita, looking pleased.
‘Our Carol wants to go up to London Friday or Saturday. Would that be okay?’
‘Saturday would be best, then I can see Polly.’
‘There’s just one thing that I don’t really understand about all this,’ said Aunty Brenda.
‘What’s that?’ asked Mum.
‘Why would a scout be interested in taking pictures of girls?’
‘What are you on about?’
‘Carol said that the chap who approached her in the butcher’s was a scout. I thought scouts were all about dib, dib and dub, dub.’
It was at moments like this that I missed Mary the most. We would have giggled about this for weeks.
‘Rita, cup of tea for Aunty Brenda. Four sugars.’
32
Everything should have been wonderful, but it wasn’t. I loved my job, I loved my new home and I loved waking up beside Ralph every day, but both of us were at a loss as to how to resolve the situation with Peggy. Every morning we kissed each other goodbye, then I didn’t see him again until at least 8 p.m. Sometimes it was even later, because he went straight from the bakery to his mum’s to take care of Peggy. I went with him a couple of times, but it was obvious that I made everything worse, and I felt like an idiot in front of his mum. Peggy ignored me as if I wasn’t there, and it made us all uncomfortable. His mum started cooking him tea, which made sense but saddened me. This was something that I had wanted to do for the three of us. I was coming home to an empty flat every night, and I was lonely. There was almost a desperation to our lovemaking. Were we trying to convince ourselves that everything was normal? We stopped talking about Peggy, or maybe it was me that stopped talking about her. I was beginning to feel something that I wasn’t proud of. I was resenting the time that Peggy took away from us. I was starting to feel jealous of the little girl, but I kept those feelings to myself because I was ashamed of them.
I couldn’t wait to see Polly. I couldn’t wait to get away from the flat. I’d phoned and told her that I was coming and she’d screamed down the phone. Just hearing her voice made me happy.
Saturday morning arrived and Carol and I got an early train to London.
‘What will you do while I’m away?’ I’d said to Ralph that morning in bed.
‘I thought it might be a good idea to bring Peggy here for the day, let her get used to it.’
‘I think that’s a great idea. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if she wanted to stay?’
‘Yes, that would be wonderful,’ said Ralph.
As the train pulled slowly out of Brighton station, I felt the same relief that I’d always felt when leaving Brighton and that frightened me. It should have been different this time.
I was sitting opposite Carol, who looked half asleep. She was wearing the shortest purple hot pants that I had ever seen, making her long legs look even longer.
‘I hate mornings,’ she said, yawning.
‘Well you’re going to have to get used to them if you want to be a model.’
‘Am I?’
‘Successful models travel all over the world. I doubt very much that they get to lie in bed.’
‘Oh I definitely want to be successful. That chap in the butcher’s said I had a look of Jean Shrimpton, and she’s really successful. Well, her and Twiggy.’
‘I hope it works out for you, Carol.’
‘I just want to get away from See-saw Lane, Dottie. I’m sick of living with my mum. She never stops nagging. You got away, why the bloody hell did you come back?’
Carol and I were first cousins and though we’d been thrown together over the years, at Christmases and birthdays and the like, we had never been close. I’d never shared anything personal with her, and I wasn’t about to start now. ‘Life,’ I said.
‘Well I’m not going to let life stand in the way of what I want to do. I’m not about to get some boring job, get married and have a string of kids. I’d rather bloody die, thanks very much.’
‘I think you should have a go,’ I said, smiling at her.
‘Blimey,’ she said, looking shocked. ‘I don’t think you’ve ever smiled at me before.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, really. I always got the feeling that you and that Mary Pickles thought I was a bit of a joke.’
I felt awful that we had made her feel like that. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘It’s okay, I got used to it.’
‘Well I wish you hadn’t had to.’
‘There were times when I needed someon
e to talk to.’
‘When?’
‘When Mum and Dad were arguing. I used to shut myself in my room and put a pillow over my head, but I could have done with someone to talk to. I wanted to talk to you, Dottie. You may not want to hear this, but your Rita felt the same.’
‘Rita!’
‘We talked sometimes. I think she was jealous of Mary. I think a lot of people were.’
I was finding it hard to take all this in.
‘It was like you were one person in two bodies and you didn’t need anyone else.’
‘It wasn’t like that.’
‘Well, that’s what it felt like, Dottie.’
‘Then I’m really sorry.’
I hadn’t expected to have any conversation with Carol on the train journey, and I certainly hadn’t expected to have one this deep. I think it was the most that either of us had said to the other for our entire lives.
‘Let me see that business card again,’ I said, changing the subject.
Carol dug around in her bag and handed it to me.
I stared at the name on the top of the card. ‘Greg Palmer. Photographer. I think I might know this guy.’
33
Greg Palmer lived in Little Venice, which was a short walk from Paddington station. The area was green and lush, running alongside the canal, and it was hard to believe that you were in the middle of London. I looked at the card again. Greg Palmer, ‘The Shenandoah’, Little Venice.
‘This doesn’t tell us much. There’s no street name.’
‘Let’s ask,’ said Carol.
There was an elderly man walking towards us with a little white dog on a lead. We showed him the card.
‘It’s a couple of hundred yards along there,’ he said, pointing back down the towpath.
We must have looked confused.
‘It’s a boat, big, blue and white. You can’t miss it.’
We thanked him and walked in the direction he had pointed. We passed a row of canal boats, some of them beautifully decorated with intricate patterns of roses and castles in brilliant greens and blues and reds. It was alive with people. Some were washing down the boats while others were sitting in chairs on the small decks enjoying the sunshine. Kids were running around everywhere, and we saw a couple of boys stretched out on the roof of a boat called ‘The Black Pig’. They waved to us as we passed.