Red Sky in the Morning

by Margaret Dickinson

  ‘He wasn’t. It’s – only ’cos I asked him to come in with me.’

  ‘You could have come in with me if I’d known you were coming. Anyway, I’ll save you a dance.’ Clowning, he said, ‘Course me card’s full, you know, but I’ll squeeze you in somewhere.’

  Maisie laughed and gave a mock curtsy. ‘Thank you, kind sir.’

  Chris went into the hall as Maisie turned to see Tony coming towards her.

  ‘Who was that?’ Tony asked, frowning after the disappearing youth.

  ‘Chris Wainwright.’

  ‘What did he want?’

  ‘A dance later on.’ Maisie laughed. ‘Least I’ve got one.’

  Maisie had more than one dance. A lot more. In fact, she hardly missed one and then only because she was completely out of breath.

  Tony stood leaning on the temporary bar at the end of the big room. They were serving soft drinks only and Tony would dearly have loved to go across the road to the King’s Head, but he had no intention of leaving Maisie to the tender mercies of this lot. He glanced around morosely, half envious of their youth, half disgusted at their style of dress. Fashions reached the countryside much later than in the city and the village lads were now heavily into the Teddy boy look, complete, in some cases, with bicycle chains and knuckledusters. One or two even carried flick knives, but it was all for show – just bravado, Tony believed. He knew most of the kids here and that they would run a mile if anyone raised an ‘offensive weapon’ in anger. He almost laughed as he watched the boys congregating on one side of the room, the girls on the other. Every so often a brave male would leave the pack and venture across to the female herd to pick a partner. And most of them seemed to make a beeline for Maisie, he thought morosely.

  Tony had attended one or two of the dances in his teens, but it had never really been his scene. He was much happier with his own company or about the farm with the animals or going over the hill to see Anna and Maisie . . .

  He sighed now as his eyes still followed the whirling, laughing figure of the girl who filled his thoughts and disturbed his dreams.

  If only, he thought for the umpteenth time, I knew the truth about her.

  Maisie did not answer her mother, but turned away before Anna could see the defiance in her eyes. The girl had had a wonderful time, and best of all had been driving home through the July night with Tony. He’d parked the truck in the farmyard and insisted on walking with her up the track, right to the door of the cottage.

  ‘Mam’s still up,’ Maisie had said as they reached the top of the rise and saw the light glowing in the cottage window.’

  Tony laughed. ‘Well, of course she will be. It’s the first time you’ve been out as late as this and to a dance. What can you expect?’

  ‘Does your mam still wait up for you?’ It had been a long time since Maisie had spoken of Mrs Bertha, so deep went the hurt that his mother had inflicted.

  ‘No, not now. But she used to until I got to twenty-one.’

  Maisie sighed. ‘It must be nice to be older and be able to do what you want.’ She was silent for a moment as they descended the slope. Then, after a pause, she said, ‘I wish Mam would let me go out a bit more.’

  Carefully, Tony said, ‘She’s worried you might get into the – the wrong company.’ Silently, he sympathized with Anna. He had never experienced such a mixture of emotions as he had watching Maisie dance with one lad after another. Concern, envy and, yes, he had to admit it, jealousy. And yet he didn’t agree with Anna keeping her daughter shut away from the world like a hermit.

  ‘They’re only lads from the village and one or two from town,’ Maisie interrupted his thoughts, answering his comment. ‘I go to school with most of them. Oh, I know they dress a bit daft. All this Teddy boy stuff. But they’re harmless.’

  ‘I know,’ he had to admit, ‘but your mam doesn’t know that, does she?’

  ‘Suppose not,’ Maisie admitted grudgingly. She sighed heavily. ‘I don’t suppose she’d let me go to a show in Lincoln. Sal says Billy Fury and some other stars are coming to do a live show at one of the cinemas there in October. I’d love to go.’

  In the darkness Tony grinned and, feigning ignorance, asked, ‘Who’s Billy Fury?’

  ‘Oh he’s smashing. Ever so good-looking. He’s a singer. Sal gave me a picture of him. I’ve got it beside my bed.’

  ‘Huh!’ Tony feigned indignation. ‘I thought you’d’ve had my picture on your bedside table.’

  Maisie grinned. ‘I would – if you gave me one.’

  After a moment’s pause, Tony asked, ‘Would you really like to go to see this chap then?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ Maisie breathed and even through the darkness he could hear the longing in her voice.

  ‘Then I’ll take you.’

  ‘Will you? Oh Tony, will you? Really?’

  And before he realized what she was doing, she had flung her arms round his neck and kissed him firmly on the lips. ‘Oh thank you, thank you.’

  ‘S’all right,’ he said gruffly. ‘You’d better get inside now. And don’t tell your mam. She’ll not let you go if you tell her. We’ll just go. Right?’

  With breathless excitement, Maisie said, ‘Yes, yes. All right.’ As she broke into a run down the last few yards to the cottage, she shouted through the night. ‘Thank you, Tony. You’re the best. Oh thank you. I love you.’

  ‘I’ve told Mam I’m going home with Sal after school on Wednesday,’ Maisie told Tony as they planned their outing.

  ‘And I’ve told Dad that I can’t help with the evening milking ’cos I’ve got to take me bike into a garage in Ludthorpe.’

  Maisie’s eyes clouded for a moment. ‘Have you?’ If there was something wrong with Tony’s motorbike, the whole trip might be off.

  ‘Course not,’ Tony was saying cheerfully, ‘but if you can get out of school at dinnertime, we can get to Lincoln in the afternoon. You’d like a look round the shops, wouldn’t you?’

  Maisie’s eyes shone. ‘Ooh, yes, please.’

  Her childlike excitement at the thought of such a simple pleasure touched Tony. Anna had no right to keep a young girl like Maisie shut away. Their life was little better than a hermit’s. No wonder Maisie had rebelled at last.

  ‘Mind you wear something warm,’ he reminded her.

  ‘I’ll take my clothes to school with my games kit and hide them in my locker in the changing room.’

  They grinned at each other, enjoying their secret. Now Tony had no qualms about helping the girl deceive her mother. Maisie deserved a bit of fun.

  The following Wednesday afternoon Maisie was waiting round the corner from the school. As she climbed onto the back of his motorbike, she said resentfully, ‘I thought I wasn’t going to make it. Mam didn’t even want to let me go to Sal’s tonight.’

  ‘How does she think you’re going to get home from there?’

  Maisie giggled. ‘I told her I’d asked you to fetch me home.’

  Tony chuckled. ‘You crafty monkey. Well, I will be, won’t I? We should make it back home by eleven and she need be none the wiser. Hold tight, off we go.’

  For the first time in her life, Maisie was on her way to see the city of Lincoln.

  The shops and the hustle and bustle of the High Street entranced Maisie.

  ‘Just look at all these people,’ she marvelled, standing almost open-mouthed on the pavement. ‘Wherever have they all come from?’

  Tony chuckled as he held on tightly to her arm. He was afraid that she would be swept off the pavement and under the wheels of a bus, unused to crowds as she was.

  ‘Oh, and look at the swans.’ The excited girl leant over the parapet of High Bridge.

  ‘Come on, it’s time we were making for the cinema.’

  As they walked along the street, Maisie saw the queue of young people, mostly girls, outside the building. Her face fell in disappointment. ‘We’ll never get in. Oh, Tony . . .’

  ‘Don’t worry.’ Tony patted his pocket. ‘I got the tic
kets two weeks ago. Our seats are reserved.’

  Feeling important, they marched to the head of the queue. Standing on the steps outside the doors was a man who appeared to be marshalling the queue.

  ‘Now, now, ladies,’ he was saying jovially. ‘No need to push. You’ll all get in.’ He pretended to glance down the length of the line snaking along the pavement. ‘Oh I don’t know, though.’ He laughed loudly. ‘It might be standing room only by the time we get to the end.’

  ‘Don’t matter, Mister,’ someone shouted. ‘Long as we see Billy.’

  ‘Oh you’ll see him. You’ll see him,’ the man promised. He was tall, in his fifties, and he was dressed flamboyantly like an old-fashioned music-hall star. His eyes were dark brown and the hair that showed from beneath his trilby was grey with a tinge of the ginger colour it had once been. He sported a pencil-thin moustache, which he kept stroking with the fourth finger of his right hand.

  Maisie heard Tony’s soft chuckle. ‘He looks like Max Miller, ’cept for the ’tache.’

  ‘Who’s Max Miller?’ Maisie asked innocently. The man must have heard her remark, for he smiled down at her from the top step. ‘Max Miller, young lady, was one of the greatest comedians this country’s ever seen. Now I could tell you a thing or two about the great Max Miller . . .’

  ‘Ne’er mind about ’im,’ a girl at the front of the queue shouted. ‘When are we going to get inside? It’s draughty standing out here.’

  ‘All in good time, miss. All in good time. The doors will open in five minutes.’

  ‘’Ere—’ The girl was still not satisfied. ‘What about them? They’re queue jumping.’

  Tony fished in his pocket and produced the tickets and waved them. ‘No, we’re not.’

  ‘What a sensible fellow,’ the big man boomed and, putting his hand on Maisie’s shoulder, he ushered them towards the door. As she passed him, the man touched Maisie’s curls and murmured, ‘What pretty hair you’ve got, my dear. What a lovely colour.’

  Maisie smiled up at him and then followed Tony through the door and into the cinema, excitement bubbling just below her ribs.

  As they climbed the steps to the circle, Maisie giggled. ‘Did you hear what that man said to me? He said, “What pretty hair you’ve got, my dear.” He sounded like the wolf out of “Little Red Riding Hood”.’

  Tony laughed with her, but he glanced back over his shoulder to see the man watching them climb the stairs and his gaze seemed to be fastened on Maisie.

  ‘Well,’ Tony murmured, ‘I wouldn’t be too sure he isn’t.’

  The show wasn’t quite what Tony would have chosen to see. One of the few males sitting amidst a crowd of screaming girls, he felt very out of place. But Maisie’s delight was obvious. She screamed with the rest until she was hoarse and even Tony was forced to admit that Billy Fury was charismatic. Suddenly, at twenty-six, Tony felt an old fuddy-duddy.

  At the end of the performance, Maisie pleaded, ‘Do let’s go round to the stage door and get his autograph. I’ve brought a book specially.’

  ‘Oh I don’t know. It’s late now—’

  ‘Please, please, please, Tony.’

  ‘All right then, but we mustn’t stay too long.’

  Outside, special police patrols and even a police dog were waiting in case of trouble from hysterical fans. But the queue in the yard outside the stage door was orderly. This time, though, Maisie and Tony were obliged to tag on at the end of it and wait with everyone else. The minutes dragged by and no one came out of the stage door. Then there was a sudden flurry and the man who had been at the front of the building before the show emerged. A photographer was with him and at the man’s direction he began to move down the queue taking pictures. ‘For the Echo. Like to see your name in the paper, wouldn’t you?’ He paused every so often and jotted down a few names.

  ‘I don’t want me face in the paper,’ Tony muttered. ‘Come on, Maisie. It’s time we were going. He’s not going to come out. You can’t blame him, love. He worked hard on that stage, I’ll give him that.’

  ‘Just another minute, Tony,’ she begged. ‘Please.’

  The photographer was moving closer. ‘What’ll your mam say if she sees your name in the paper. She’ll go spare.’

  Maisie grinned. ‘She’ll not see it. She never takes a paper. You know that.’

  ‘Aye, but someone might see it who knows you. What then?’

  But at that moment the camera flashed and Maisie and Tony blinked. ‘Now, love, what’s your name,’ the photographer asked, pencil poised above his notepad. ‘And where are you from?’

  ‘Maisie Woods,’ she blurted out, answering his question automatically. ‘From near Ludthorpe.’

  ‘And yours, sir?’

  ‘Nowt to do with you,’ Tony growled. ‘And don’t you print that picture in the paper else I’ll bust your camera for you. Come on, Maisie, we’re going.’

  Maisie smiled quickly at the young photographer. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘We’ve got to go.’

  As they began to move away, the photographer beckoned to the big man still standing in the stage door. They heard a shout and saw ‘Max Miller’ striding towards them. ‘Wait a minute, I want a word with you—’

  ‘Come on, Maisie,’ Tony grabbed her arm. ‘Run for it.’

  By the time they rode into the farmyard at a quarter to twelve all hell had broken loose.

  Anxiety had driven Anna to come down to the farm. The three of them – Anna, Eddie and Bertha – were standing outside the back door. It was the first time that Anna had come face to face with Bertha in sixteen years.

  ‘Where are they? Where’s Tony taken her?’

  ‘My Tony wouldn’t take that little trollop anywhere. Like mother, like daughter, I say. I heard about her at that dance in the village.’ Bertha nodded sagely, her jowls wobbling. ‘Making an exhibition of ’ersen. Dancing with every Tom, Dick and Harry.’

  ‘He was taking her to Sally’s house in Ludthorpe. But she should have been back hours ago. Where is he? Is he here?’ Anna was close to hysteria. ‘I’ve been on edge all day. There was a funny sky this morning. I don’t like it. Something bad’s going to happen. I know it is.’

  ‘Now, now, love. Calm down.’ Eddie tried to pour oil on what were becoming very troubled waters. ‘Tony wouldn’t let any harm come to Maisie—’

  Bertha’s mouth twisted. ‘Oh “love”, is it? Oh well, now we know, don’t we?’ She turned to face Anna, adding sarcastically, ‘Of course he wouldn’t let any harm come to his sister, now would he?’

  Anna gasped. ‘His – his sister?’

  ‘Well, half-sister?’

  Anna stared at the woman for a moment and then began to laugh, but it was hysterical laughter. ‘After all this time you still think that?’

  Bertha thrust her face close to Anna’s. ‘Why else would you stay here all these years? Why else would you bury yourself away in the back o’ beyond. Unless you were where you wanted to be. With ’im.’ At this she jabbed her husband in the chest.

  Anna, her anxiety over Maisie forgotten for the minute, shook her head sadly. ‘You’re mad. Eddie’s just a kind man who deserves better than you—’

  ‘Now, now.’ Eddie tried to placate the two women again. ‘Don’t let’s get into all that. It’s Maisie we should be thinking about—’

  At that moment they heard the distant roar of the bike and turned towards the yard expectantly as the sound grew closer and at last turned in through the gate.

  Anna flew across the yard. She dragged Maisie off the pillion and fired questions at her so fast that the girl had no time to answer. Then Anna rounded on Tony.

  ‘And as for you, don’t you come near her again. Do you hear me? Not ever.’

  As Anna dragged her daughter away, Maisie glanced back over her shoulder. Tony was watching her. Their eyes met and held in a gaze until, through the darkness, they could no longer see each other’s face.

  Eddie ran his hand through his hair and muttered, ‘Eh, lad, wh
at trouble have you caused now?’

  In the doorway of the farmhouse, Bertha smiled.

  Twenty-Nine

  ‘I have my reasons.’

  ‘What? What reasons?’

  ‘You don’t need to know.’

  ‘Yes, Mam, I do.’ Maisie tried to calm the hysteria in her tone. She was trying very hard to act like an adult. ‘I know I’m not a grown-up yet, but I’m not a child any longer either. Why can’t you trust me?’

  ‘Trust you? Trust you? When you do what you’ve done today? Deliberately disobeyed me and deceived me. How do you expect me to trust you after that?’

  ‘Because I can’t see why I have to stay shut away from leading a normal life unless you tell me why.’

  Anna sat down heavily at the table and laid her head on her arms. She groaned. She was tired, very tired. All the long years of loneliness, the constant fear, which despite the passage of time seemed as sharp as ever. Bringing up Maisie alone with only Eddie and Pat Jessop to turn to for help. And living in the isolated cottage with none of the amenities that most people now enjoyed. It hadn’t seemed so bad at first, when Maisie was tiny, but now she was forced to acknowledge the unfairness of their life for her daughter. It was one thing for Anna to choose to hide herself away. It was quite another for her to inflict that same seclusion on the young girl.

  Her voice trembling, Maisie said, ‘I’m sorry, Mam. I – I promise I won’t do anything again. At least – not without telling you. But will you promise me something?’

  Anna lifted her head slowly. ‘Depends what it is,’ she said guardedly.

  Maisie licked her lips. ‘Well, if I promise to tell you exactly where I’m going, who with and what time I’ll be home, will you let me go out a bit more? I’m not asking to be out every night, not even every week. I’ve got my school work to do, specially now I’m in the Lower Sixth.’ Then the words came tumbling out in a rush of confidence. ‘Mam – I – I want to go to teacher-training college.’

  ‘I can’t afford—’ Anna began, but Maisie interrupted eagerly.