by Kitty Neale
‘No.’ Rhona wasn’t managing much better. ‘Let’s go to the ladies as soon as we get inside and we can fix ourselves up all over again. I can’t have Gary seeing me like this.’
She gave a sigh of relief as they finally approached the door of the Talisman club. This time it was easier to make out the layout in the dim lighting and they both pushed their way across to the ladies, only to find that everyone else had had the same idea. The small room was full of young women bemoaning the state of their appearance and jostling for a view in the steamed-up mirror. Rhona and Penny ended up doing each other’s make-up and hair in a corner, but eventually they were satisfied that the damage had been repaired and that they were ready to do battle on the dance floor.
Gary was waiting by the bar and Penny nudged Rhona. ‘There he is. Oh, I like his shirt.’
Rhona nodded in agreement. Gary’s dress sense was one of the things that had made him so attractive in the first place. He’d pulled out all the stops tonight, looking better than ever. She eyed him hungrily.
‘Hello, beautiful.’ He smiled when he saw her and pulled her close to him. ‘Hi, Penny. What can I get you both?’
‘Babycham please,’ said Penny.
‘I’ll have rum and blackcurrant,’ said Rhona, giving him a conspiratorial glance.
Penny looked at her with suspicion. ‘What’s this? Rum? You don’t usually drink rum.’
‘It’s my new thing,’ Rhona told her, as Gary nodded in acknowledgement and turned to buy them what they wanted. ‘The Beatles love it. I’ll let you have a sip if you like.’
‘Yeah, I’ll give it a try,’ said Penny dubiously.
Gary returned with their drinks and Rhona offered her a sip of the new favourite. Penny tried it. It was disgusting, thick, sweet, and far too strong. ‘Nah, you can keep it,’ she said, grimacing. ‘I don’t care who likes it, I’m not having that again. Give me Babycham any time. Thanks, Gary.’ She raised her glass to him.
‘My pleasure, doll.’ Gary grinned broadly, knowing he was getting some envious looks for having a blonde on either side. He edged them away from the crowded bar to a vacant table. Sandie Shaw blasted through the speakers and Rhona hummed along.
‘I really like her,’ she said as they took their seats. ‘I wonder if she writes her own songs?’
Gary stared at her for a moment and then laughed. ‘I shouldn’t think so,’ he said. ‘Not big hits like she’s had. You need a man to write music like that. Women aren’t much use at the serious stuff.’
‘Why not?’ Rhona asked. She hadn’t thought she’d said anything out of the ordinary and wondered if Gary was winding her up. ‘I mean, it’s not that hard, is it? You just need to be good at music.’
‘It takes more than that,’ Gary said with an edge to his voice. ‘I’ve been playing the guitar since I was seven, and you’ve got to be really good to get noticed by the right people to get anywhere. You need talent and luck. Girls are all right to sing the songs and look good at the front of the band, you get the right sort of attention that way, but you don’t want them behind the scenes. They don’t take it seriously. Take it from me.’
Rhona didn’t know what to say to that. She’d obviously touched a nerve. What was so strange about a girl wanting to write music or play the guitar?
‘Are you a musician, then, Gary?’ Penny breathed, stepping into the gap. ‘I hadn’t realised.’
‘Yeah, I’ve played with several bands but I don’t have a regular one at the moment,’ he said, relaxing again. ‘There are a couple who want me to play with them but I’ll have to see. They got to be doing music that I’m into. I don’t want to play any old thing just to be popular. I need to be doing interesting stuff, new stuff.’
‘That sounds exciting,’ said Rhona, moving her chair closer to his. ‘I bet anyone can play the boring old songs. It takes something special to play the sort that nobody’s done before.’
‘Exactly,’ said Gary, lifting his beer. ‘You got to be one step ahead all the time if you really want to make it. It ain’t easy at all, let me tell you.’
Rhona’s eyes shone with expectation. ‘Would you teach me to play, Gary? I’d love to have a go. I’ve never had the chance before.’ Suddenly she was seized with the desire to try it out for herself. What harm could it do to see if she was any good?
Gary laughed and patted her knee. ‘Sure, why not. You can have a go when you come to my place. Just don’t go getting your hopes up ’cos it takes a long time to learn how to play the guitar really well. But you can have a bit of a play around.’ He raised his eyebrows suggestively.
‘You’re on,’ said Rhona eagerly. Gary just got better and better. A gorgeous man who’d teach her the guitar – things didn’t come more perfect than that. ‘I can’t wait.’
Jenny had just checked that ten-year-old Greg had put his light out. He was staying up later and later and if she didn’t put her foot down he’d be reading comics all night. She suspected he had smuggled a torch into his room so he could read under the bedclothes, but short of bursting in on him every now and again she couldn’t very well stop him, and besides it wasn’t a school day tomorrow.
She came back down to the living room and collapsed on to the sofa beside Stan with a big sigh. ‘That boy of ours is changing by the minute. I bet he’s not gone to sleep and was just pretending a moment ago. He’ll ruin his eyesight if he keeps on reading under the blankets like that.’
Stan put down the letter he’d been holding. ‘He’ll be all right, stop worrying. He’s getting older, it’s only natural his interests are changing. You can’t wrap him in cotton wool.’
‘I know.’ She glanced at the piece of paper he’d set aside. ‘What’s that?’
‘Ah.’ Stan paused. ‘I was going to talk to you about it.’
‘What?’ Jenny’s eyes widened in alarm. ‘What do you mean?’
‘It’s all right, no need to panic.’ Stan took a deep breath. ‘The boss called me in yesterday to talk about my new territory. This is just a letter confirming the changes. I’ll still be covering parts of London, but also the southwest.’
‘Do you mean southwest England?’ Jenny gasped. ‘They don’t expect you to go down as far as Land’s End, do they?’
Stan laughed, ‘No, love, that’s Cornwall, but it’ll include Dorset, Somerset and maybe parts of Devon.’
‘Devon, but that’s still miles away. You’ll be gone for ages if you have to drive that far.’ She folded her arms. ‘Oh, Stan, I know you’ve got to do it, but honestly, it’s not what I want. I hate the thought of you going away. I really hate it.’
Stan put his arm around her. ‘It won’t be so bad,’ he said reassuringly. ‘It could be much worse. What if I had to go to Scotland?’
She turned and stared at him.
‘No, no, I won’t have to do that,’ Stan said hastily. ‘There’s a whole different team covering the north of England and Scotland. And it won’t take me too long, I’ll go down the A303 and be there in next to no time. It’s meant to be beautiful.’
Jenny shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been.’
Stan waved the letter. ‘Well, here’s the thing. Would you like to?’
‘What, go to work with you?’ Jenny asked, shaking her head. ‘I don’t think so, Stan.’
Stan shut his eyes briefly, wondering if she’d deliberately got the wrong end of the stick. He was trying to see this as a positive change and knew his life would be easier if he could talk Jenny round. He hoped what he had to say next would do it. ‘Not to work, no. But obviously if I have to stay over for a few nights then I’ll put up in a hotel or somewhere that does bed and breakfast. There may be occasions when you could come too and we can turn it into a nice weekend away. How do you fancy that?’
‘What about Greg?’ Jenny asked at once. ‘We can’t leave him on his own.’
Stan sighed. ‘Nobody said anything about leaving him on his own. He could stay with Mavis, couldn’t he? Or Tommy. Or my mum would ha
ve him.’
Jenny thought for a moment. ‘He’d rather stay with Mavis. Not being funny or anything but your mum will make him go to bed at seven o’clock and won’t let him watch telly. And now that James has got his own room, Mavis could have him easily …’
Stan brightened up. This was going better. ‘He’d really enjoy that, wouldn’t he? I know he still misses having James next door.’
Jenny nodded. ‘He does. And Mavis wouldn’t mind.’
‘We’ll do that, then, as soon as we can. When the weather gets a bit warmer.’ Stan gave her a smile. ‘I’ll have to do a few trips first and then I’ll get to know where the best places are. We haven’t been away just the two of us since our honeymoon, have we?’
Jenny giggled. ‘How could we? First we had no money then along came Greg and our lives were never the same after that.’ She looked up at him. ‘Maybe this new job won’t be so bad after all, Stan Bonner. We could have a second honeymoon.’
He gave her a look. ‘We could. We could have a whole series of them. Fancy a bit of practice, Mrs Bonner?’ He stroked her face and noticed how her eyes lit up.
She slapped his thigh. ‘Nice try, Stan, but you’ll have to wait. Like I said, I reckon Greg’s still awake. And I know he’s growing up fast but there are some things he shouldn’t know about just yet.’ She didn’t trust the soundproofing in this house, solid though the walls were. ‘Shall we see what’s on the telly?’
‘Suppose so,’ said Stan, releasing her. He stretched out. He could wait if he had to – he knew Jenny was as keen as he was. ‘Is Dixon of Dock Green on?’
‘That’ll have finished.’ Jenny waited for the set to warm up. ‘Or we could just listen to some music. Pass me the Radio Times.’
Stan got up and put his arms around her, nuzzling her neck. ‘I don’t care. I’m only waiting till I can get you upstairs.’
‘Shhh, what if Greg hears you saying that?’ But Jenny knew he wouldn’t. She hugged her husband. A second honeymoon in Devon – wait till she told Mavis.
Chapter Eight
Rhona turned on to her side and watched the patterns change on the unfamiliar curtains as the orange streetlights threw shadows from the tree branches outside the window. The light slowly changed to the dull grey of dawn. She raised her arms over her head and stretched luxuriously, savouring the memories of the night before. Gary had been everything she’d hoped for, passionate and considerate and the most exciting man she’d ever been with. They’d spent all Sunday afternoon in bed, then managed to go to a fish and chip shop round the corner for a quick bite to eat, before falling back into bed again and staying up half the night. She’d only had a few hours’ sleep but she felt wonderful. Idly she tried to work out just how long she’d slept … oh no.
It must be Monday morning. Slowly the cogs turned in her brain and she realised she was meant to be at the factory in Peckham in half an hour and she was still in Gary’s bed, in his flat near Finsbury Park, the other side of the city. She was going to be in deep trouble. Penny might cover for her for a short while but she wouldn’t be able to do so for long. Jean would notice at once, and the loathsome foreman Mr Forsyth had been making a point of turning up at the start of their shift and making sarky comments. She still hadn’t been forgiven for dumping creepy Andy.
Rhona swore under her breath and heaved herself out of bed. The bedroom was cold. There was a one-bar electric fire in the corner but she didn’t have time to switch it on. Blindly she groped around for her clothes and struggled into them. They’d raise a few eyebrows at the factory but there was no way she could waste more time by going home to change first. She’d just have to hope she could get her overall on before everyone noticed her low-cut top.
Gary stirred. ‘Morning, doll. Make us a cup of tea, will yer?’
Rhona groaned. What a romantic way to start the day. ‘I can’t,’ she hissed. ‘I’m late for work, I’ve got to run.’
‘Nah, babe, come back to bed and I’ll make you forget all that,’ said Gary, and she could just about make out in the gloom that he was opening his arms to her. It was very tempting. But she thought of her mother’s face if she got the sack and forced herself to zip up her boots.
‘Got to go.’ She kissed the top of his head. ‘Thanks for a fab weekend. See you Wednesday?’
Gary half-sat up and kissed her back. ‘Wednesday it is, babe. See you then.’
As she opened the bedroom door a shaft of light from the landing showed her that he’d already curled up to go back to sleep. She wished she could stay with him, spend the day with him, messing around in bed, playing his guitar and making the world go away. Reality was waiting for her in the shape of a freezing cold morning and crowded buses all along the Seven Sisters Road. Grimly she reached for her purse and forced herself to walk as far as the bus stop, where she shivered in her thin mac, designed for looking good, not keeping warm.
Finally she managed to get on a bus and wedge herself into a seat, next to a middle-aged man in a suit who looked at her with barely veiled contempt. She could feel the disapproval rising off him. Miserable old git, she thought. Then she smiled to herself. Bet I’ve had more fun this weekend than you’ve had in your entire life. Bet I’ve done things you didn’t even know were possible. She couldn’t help giggling and quickly smothered it, pretending to cough. The man edged away from her, an even more disdainful expression on his thin face. Rhona didn’t care. It gave her more room. Her thoughts drifted back to the night before and she sat daydreaming happily as the windows fogged up and the overcrowded bus made its slow way down the busy road.
‘What time do you call this?’ Jean hissed as, over an hour later, Rhona eventually made it to her shift. The only good thing was she’d got to her locker and into her overall before anyone could spot what she had on underneath – or, more like, what she didn’t have on.
‘I was delayed,’ said Rhona, trying to keep a straight face.
Jean stared at her. ‘Come on, you can do better than that.’
‘Well, it’s true, I was,’ said Rhona, unable to stop herself from smiling. ‘Oh, all right, I had further to come this morning and got the timing all wrong. I got here as fast as I could. Don’t take on.’
‘It’s not me you’ve got to worry about,’ said Jean, retying her scarf tightly. ‘And you smell of drink again. For God’s sake go to the ladies and tidy yourself up. A few more minutes won’t make any difference now, the damage has been done. Your absence has been noted. You’ll be on a warning, and it’ll be worse if Forsyth sees you in a mess like that.’
‘OK, thanks.’ Rhona dashed for the door to the ladies.
Sure enough Mr Forsyth strode over to her as the bell rang for the mid-morning tea break.
‘Miss Foster. My office, now, if you please.’ He strutted off, full of his own importance, which left Rhona little choice but to follow him. She pulled a face and smoothed down her overall.
‘Wish me luck,’ she said to Penny. Jean heard her.
‘He won’t sack you now, surely, not in the middle of a shift. I don’t know how we’ll get everything finished if we’re a person short.’
‘We’ll soon find out, won’t we,’ said Rhona nonchalantly and strode off after the foreman, a little unsteadily in her high-heeled boots.
Lily groaned as she dropped the heavy laundry basket on to the paving slabs. What with all the upheaval of moving she hadn’t managed to do the washing for ages and now she was paying the price. Her arms ached with the weight of it but at least she finally had a decent length of line on which to hang it all. Pete had put that up as a priority. It had been threatening to rain first thing this morning but now it was brightening up and there was a good breeze, even though it was cold. Still, it was too good an opportunity to miss and now she’d got it all done and had run it through the wringer, there was a decent chance it would get dry enough to iron later. She reached for her peg bag and noticed that her new neighbour was doing the same thing next door.
Lily had seen peopl
e going in and out of the houses around her but hadn’t had time to meet any of them. She’d had her ups and downs with neighbours over the years and wasn’t in a hurry to get to know the new ones. Back when Mavis was young she’d thought her next door neighbour was a good friend but she’d turned out to be a judgemental gossip who’d spread rumours about her relationship with Pete. So even though they were a legitimately married couple now, she was still wary of rushing into anything. On the other hand, here was a chance to make an acquaintance.
‘Morning,’ she said brightly, going over to the fence that divided the two back gardens. ‘Good day for it, isn’t it?’
‘Might be if it doesn’t come in to rain again,’ said the woman on the other side, her expression sour. ‘I don’t trust it to keep dry.’
‘Lily Culling.’ Lily introduced herself, wondering if the woman was always this miserable.
‘Muriel Burns.’ The woman nodded – they couldn’t exactly shake hands as the fence was in the way. ‘You just moved in, then?’
‘Yeah, that’s right,’ said Lily. ‘Got here Friday before last. Takes a while to get it all sorted out, doesn’t it?’
‘I wouldn’t know,’ said Muriel. ‘I was born in this house and never lived anywhere else. When I got married to my Reggie, he moved in with me and Mum and Dad. Now they’re dead and buried it’s just us.’
‘It’s a big place for just two of you,’ Lily said. ‘We done this place up into a couple of flats.’
‘I know,’ said Muriel. ‘I heard. I couldn’t hardly have missed it.’ She gave Lily a hostile glare.
Lily ignored it. ‘Me and Pete got the lower flat, with our little boy Bobby, and my grown-up daughter, Mavis, has the upper one with her two kids. They’re old enough for school now.’
Muriel looked interested for the first time. ‘Oh, is that little boy yours? I’ve seen him out here playing, from the kitchen window. I just assumed he was the little brother of the other two.’ She peered at Lily more closely. ‘Surprise, was he?’
Lily bristled. ‘He was someone we waited a long time for,’ she replied, although the truth was nobody had been more surprised than her to find she was pregnant again in her mid-forties. ‘He’s our little angel.’ She shot a direct look at her neighbour.