Authors: Carol Rivers
‘Good,’ said Bill happily. ‘Now try a little scrambled egg with your champagne. Very important to have the right balance in life.’
She did as she was told, forcing down the hot food, slowly beginning to feel better now that Bill seemed to be clearing up the dreadful mess she had landed herself in.
She glanced at him as she was eating. Everything about his movements was graceful and well-mannered. He might be an older man, but there was something about him that, although she didn’t
want to admit it, she felt attracted to in a strange sort of way.
On Saturday, Marie went to the market with Ada. The fogs and mists of the previous month had left and the last weekend of the year was unseasonably mild.
‘This is for you,’ said Ada, returning from the jewellery stall. Marie stood watching the tradesmen selling off the last of the year’s wares; the fruit and veg were rock-bottom
prices.
Marie gazed at the silver locket that Ada placed in the palm of her hand.
‘A gift to celebrate your engagement, love.’
‘It’s lovely, Mum.’
‘It was only cheap.’
Marie unfastened the clasp. ‘Help me to put it on.’
Ada put down her bag and, pushing her daughter’s hair gently to one side, linked the chain around her neck. ‘You can keep a picture of Bing inside.’
Marie knew that Ada was putting on a brave face. There had been no word from Vesta, not even a Christmas card.
Marie hugged her mother. ‘Yes, I will.’
Ada looked wistful. ‘I’m glad you’re not working tonight.’
‘So am I.’
‘Have you changed your mind about finding fame and fortune?’
‘I’ve changed my mind about a lot of things.’
‘You’re growing up fast.’
Marie smiled. ‘I’m older and wiser now.’
‘I wish your sister was.’ Ada lifted her bag and slid her arm through Marie’s. ‘If only I could see her, talk to her, I might be able to persuade her to come
home.’
Marie glanced at her mother’s thin, apprehensive face and the faint spark of hope in her eyes. Though Vesta had fallen in love and left home, there was no excuse for not sending word to
Ada. A letter or card would have given them all peace of mind.
On Sunday, Bing took Marie to see Ivy and Johnny. Ivy had cooked a special roast with apple pie and cream for afters, to celebrate their engagement. But all the time she was enjoying herself,
Marie thought of Ada at home, missing Vesta deeply.
Rose, Shirley and Sal all had long faces as Marie walked into the dressing room on Monday. Although it was New Year’s Eve, the club was half empty. The few who had turned
out were drinking heavily and rowdy.
‘It was a waste of time turning up,’ said Rose as she pulled on her costume, barely giving a glance to Marie.
‘And we ain’t been paid,’ agreed Sal, as she tried and failed to replace a broken feather in her headdress, then threw it aside in disgust. ‘This place is bad news. No
one appreciates our dancing, they only shout abuse. The rate this goes on, we might not ever get our money.’
‘And there’s no use hoping for tips,’ continued Shirley. ‘The drunks out there wouldn’t give us the drip off their noses, let alone a quid or two.’
Rose gave a cackle of laughter. ‘Suits me, as I don’t want none of their filthy paws grabbing me and trying to kiss me.’
As Marie changed into her costume, she listened to the conversation with interest. But no one said anything about the Blue Flamingo.
As usual, they did their routine without receiving a word of appreciation. The punters looked fed up and miserable, stringing out their drinks, ignoring the dancers as they left the stage.
‘Ignorant sods,’ announced Rose as they filed back to the dressing room. ‘Anyway, I’ve got meself another job, so what do I care?’
The other girls looked at her in surprise. ‘Doing what?’ asked Sal, frowning.
‘I’m going somewhere I’m appreciated.’
‘Where’s that?’ Shirley asked suspiciously.
‘Never you mind. But it’s good pay.’
Sal gasped. ‘You ain’t going on the game, are you?’
Rose looked indignant. ‘Course not. If you must know, Pedro gave me this posh geezer’s name up West. A friend of Wally’s. All he wants is someone to take out and dance with.
It’s money for old rope.’
Shirley poked her in the arm. ‘Christ, Rose, you ain’t falling for that old chestnut, are you?’
Rose turned on her spitefully. ‘Trust you to think the worst!’
‘Well, I don’t like the sound of it neither,’ Sal said cautiously.
‘Only because Pedro offered me the job and not you,’ argued Rose, throwing back her head and studying herself in the mirror. ‘Sorry about that, but all’s fair in love and
war, girls.’
Marie was tired of hearing Rose repeat this. And when she saw Shirley and Sal glance at one another behind Rose’s back, she knew they were too.
It was half past eleven when Pedro let them go. The club was cold and empty. The air stank of stale booze and damp. The girls complained bitterly about not being paid and were
only pacified when Pedro promised to pay them the following Saturday.
Benny had already left by the time Marie made her way out. She was relieved to see the shape of Bing’s car drawing up in the darkness.
He rushed to meet her and pulled her into his arms. ‘You’re early,’ he whispered. ‘I was prepared to wait until after midnight. Sort out the drunks who pester
you.’
‘The drunks went home early.’ She was so happy to be safe in his arms.
‘Shall we wait for your dad?’
‘No. He could be a long time clearing up.’
As he drove Bing turned to her. ‘Any mention of the Blue Flamingo?’
‘The girls spent all their time complaining about drunks and not being paid. No one said anything much about the club. And Rose has got herself another job.’
‘Doing what?’
‘Keeping company with a rich man, she says. Someone Wally knows. All he wants is to dance with her.’
Bing’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Then she ain’t the savvy sort she thinks she is.’
‘She wouldn’t listen to Shirley either, who tried to warn her.’
Outside the house, Bing turned off the engine and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. ‘Tonight I went round to see Charlie as he ain’t been at work. His arm is broken and in a
sling.’
‘Did he have an accident?’
‘After a few jars one night before Christmas, he went round to the Blue Flamingo. Course, the Scoresbys’ heavies stopped him and Charlie cut up rough. He decked a couple of ’em
and gave them a mouthful.’ Bing hesitated. ‘On his way home a car pulled up and some blokes got out and returned the favour.’
Marie gasped. ‘Poor Charlie!’ She shuddered at the memory of Vesta saying she wanted to make Charlie jealous.
‘He’ll live. But his pride is dented.’
‘What’s he going to do now?’
‘Stay out of trouble, I hope.’
‘Can he get his girl back?’
‘Dunno if she’ll have him.’
They sat in silence, until Bing looked at his watch. ‘Happy New Year, Mrs Brown.’
‘I’m not Mrs Brown yet.’
‘Give me a kiss. No one is looking.’ As he pulled her close, a light flooded out from the front room. He groaned and sat back. ‘Caught in the act.’
Marie sighed softly. She wanted to be kissed too. ‘Come in, if you like.’
‘Don’t think I will. See you tomorrow, sweetheart.’
Reluctantly, Marie left the car. She watched it turn the corner and listened as the engine noise died away. Touching the ring on her finger, she felt close to Bing. One day they wouldn’t
have to part. And on this happy thought she went inside to Ada.
Marie woke in the middle of the night. Her nightdress was stuck to her skin and her heart was thumping. She turned to the place beside her, only to find it empty. Then, as the
nightmare came back with full force, the pictures seemed clearer than ever: a brute of a man standing over a small woman cowering against the wall. Her arms were folded protectively across her bump
to shield her precious baby. Then, as he struck her, a piercing cry echoed in Marie’s head.
Marie waited for the drumming of her heart to slow as she sat up in bed. This time there was no one to share the dream with. Images kept forming in her mind: the red-veined eyes of the monster
about to attack a defenceless woman; her screams and feeble protests as he grabbed her and threw her across the room.
Marie pushed away the bedclothes, desperate to free herself from the cold fear still chilling her skin. She drew back the curtains, hoping to see the dawn lighting the sky above the roofs. But
it was still dark. The stars twinkled in a vast, ebony universe. She pulled on her dressing gown and went to the front room. Once again her heart leaped. For a moment she froze as she saw a figure
in the chair.
And then, in the light of the embers, she saw who it was. ‘Dad, what are you doing sitting there?’
‘I don’t want to disturb your mother.’
She could smell the musty odour of the club on his coat. ‘You look all in.’
‘I am a bit.’
‘The work at the club is too hard for you.’
He nodded. ‘You’re right, love. I’m not the young man I once was.’ Pausing, he asked in a muffled voice, ‘Is there any news of Vesta?’
‘No, the girls didn’t say anything. Nor did Benny.’ Marie placed a blanket over him and poked the embers. Quickly she added a little kindling. When the dry wood caught, the
fire flared into life. ‘You’ll soon be warm.’ She saw his head droop sideways. Very soon he started to snore. Marie gazed at the hunched figure in the chair. If only Vesta would
come home. She always put a light in his eye; the light that had seemed to have gone out these days.
She sat in a chair too and gazed into the flames of the fire. It was now Tuesday, the first day of January 1935. The New Year had begun. What lay in store for the Haskins family? Would it bring
Vesta home? As the warmth made her drowsy, Marie thought of her twin and hoped Vesta was thinking of her.
By dawn’s early light, Marie washed and dressed and trod softly back to the front window. There was no one about.
Her father still slept, so she went to the kitchen. Here she prepared a saucepan of milk ready to mix with the porridge oats, together with two generous slices of bread and dripping. After a
good breakfast he would feel more like his old self. Placing Hector’s shaving soap and blade on the draining board, she folded a clean vest and shirt from the ceiling rack over the chair.
With luck there would be time for him to wash and shave before Ada got up.
Returning to the front room, Marie heard the first signs of life outside. From the window she could see children playing on the cobbles: the girls with their skipping ropes and the boys their
footballs. One little girl was chalking lines on the pavement for hopscotch. An older boy threw a rope over the lamp-post to swing on.
Another tiny girl fell over. Her knickers had fallen round her ankles. Had she wet herself? Nobody seemed to care. Plonking herself on a doorstep, she let out a loud bawl. Eventually the door
opened and she was hauled inside.
Marie smiled at the familiar sight. She and Vesta had done just the same when they were younger. Though their favourite game had been dressing up and putting on little shows, they loved playing
out in the street. Sometimes all the kids would come in the back yard and watch them. It was nice when they clapped, but the boys often made rude noises. She smiled. Vesta had got very annoyed at
the disturbance and told them to go away. Marie sighed. Their childhood had been very happy.
She thought of Bing. He had called her ‘Mrs Brown’ last night. What would it be like to be a wife and mother? Gazing at the ring on her finger, and the pretty red stone in its clasp,
she knew her life was about to change. The ring was a sign of her loyalty to Bing, not to a career on the stage, although he’d said she could still have one if she wanted. What did she want?
If she married him, one day her children would be playing in the street too. She knew so very little about babies. Would she be a good mother?
‘Is that you, Marie?’ her father mumbled.
‘Yes, Dad.’
He gazed up at her, scratching the stubble on his chin. ‘What happened? Why am I sitting here?’
‘You came home late.’
‘Ah, yes,’ he nodded, and sat back with a sigh. ‘I remember now. I didn’t want to disturb Ada.’
‘Dad, if I left the Duke’s, would you leave with me?’
He looked at her sadly. ‘They wouldn’t let me.’
‘The brothers aren’t there now, just Pedro.’
‘Yes, but they still have a finger in the pie.’
Marie sat beside him. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll find a way out.’
He nodded and patted her hand. ‘I hope so. Happy New Year, love.’
‘The same to you, Dad.’
Once again he looked at her with sadness in his eyes. She knew he missed Vesta as much as any of them. Was he staying at the Duke’s because it was close to where Vesta might be? But Marie
was worried that the work might eventually kill him.
Elsie knocked later that morning. ‘Happy New Year, everyone.’
‘The same to you, Elsie.’
She held up a bottle. ‘I’ve brought a nice drop of port to celebrate.’
‘Come in,’ said Marie softly.
‘How are your mum and dad?’ Elsie asked.
‘There’s been no word from Vesta.’
Elsie rolled her eyes. ‘That girl needs her bottom spanking.’
‘Even if she didn’t visit,’ agreed Marie, ‘she could have sent a card.’
Elsie touched Marie’s shoulder. ‘Come on, chin up, gel.’
In the front room there was silence. ‘Happy New Year, everyone!’ Elsie stood the port on the table and went over to Ada. ‘Let’s have a smile, Ada. And Hector, for
Gawd’s sake stop poking that fire. You’ll put it out if you’re not careful. Now where are the glasses?’
‘I don’t want a drink,’ Ada said.
‘No thanks, Elsie.’ Hector sat on the couch.
‘Blimey, what long faces this morning! You’ll have a drink whether you like it or not,’ Elsie decided. ‘Look at the pair of you, you’d think there’d been a
death in the family.’
‘There has in a way,’ Ada sighed. ‘I don’t suppose I’ll ever see my daughter again.’
‘Rubbish!’ exclaimed Elsie. ‘Your Vesta will be round. The trouble is, Ada,’ she continued firmly, ‘you spoiled that girl and now you’re paying the
price.’