Family Drama 4 E-Book Bundle (19 page)

Pearl listened to the exchange, and as her heart thumped in her chest she cursed that Kevin still had this effect on her. He winked, and she flushed.

‘I hear you're moving in with Mo Price and her daughter. I must say, that Emma's a bit of all right.'

‘Have you been out with her?' Derek asked.

‘No, but I might just sample the goods. What do you think, Pearl?'

Pearl felt a surge of jealousy, but managed a nonchalant shrug. ‘Please yourself. Anyway, I'd best get on,' she said, hurrying away and hiding her feelings behind a bright smile as she approached a customer. The order taken, she cast a glance at Derek, glad to see that Kevin had left. He grinned and she couldn't help but return it. He was like a big, cuddly bear, warm, safe. Kevin was the opposite, a handsome sleek panther, dark, predatory. She shivered, at last realising that she didn't want to be his prey. Oh, if only Derek would propose soon.

Pearl was surprised at how hard it was to leave Derek's on Saturday evening. She had tried not to grow too fond of them, but still found the parting a wrench, particularly with Connie. It had been like having a mother: a woman who cared about her welfare, showed her affection, and greeted her with pleasure when she came home from work. Now she was moving out and there would be no quick hugs at bedtime, no lovely meals, and no cosy evenings sitting in front of the television.

‘Well, 'bye then,' Pearl choked, picking up her bags, only for Derek to take them out of her hands.

‘'Bye, love. See you tomorrow,' Connie said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

‘Tomorrow?'

‘Well, yes. You'll be round for dinner, won't you?'

‘Oh, yes, I'd love to,' Pearl said, her heart lifting.

‘Blimey, I thought we'd sorted this out. You're moving to Pennington Street, not Outer Mongolia, and can come round as often as you like. If you want to pop in to see me after work each day, that'd be lovely, and you can share our meals as usual.'

‘Oh, Connie.'

‘Well, let's face it; you'll become as skinny as a rake again if I don't feed you. Now off you go, and don't worry, you'll be fine with Mo. She's a good sort.'

Pearl nodded, following Derek outside. She was on the move again, but this time reluctantly. It hadn't been hard to leave the orphanage, the hostel, or her first bedsit, but leaving Derek's was like leaving home.

‘You can always change your mind,' Derek said as if reading her thoughts. ‘You're welcome to stay at my place.'

‘No, Connie's right. It's time I moved out.'

‘What do you mean? What's Gran got to do with it?'

‘Well … er … she sort of said I should try harder to find a bedsit.'

‘She what? When?'

‘We had a chat when you were at the gym on
Tuesday. She's right, though,' Pearl said hurriedly. ‘I couldn't sleep on the sofa indefinitely.'

‘She had no right to force you out without discussing it with me. Wait till I get back. I'll have a few words to say to her.'

‘No, Derek, please don't fall out over me. She's only doing what she thinks is for the best.'

‘Huh, best for who?'

Pearl glanced up at Derek's face, seeing anger, and decided that this might be the ideal opportunity to hint about marriage. ‘Connie's concerned about you. We … we're courting and it isn't right that we were living under the same roof. I don't know about you, but it kept me awake, knowing that you were in the bedroom above me.' Pearl's face reddened with shame as she told the lie, but consoled herself with the thought that it was only a little white one. If Derek loved her and proposed, she'd do her best to be a good wife. She couldn't love him in return, but she liked him, and surely that was a good basis for marriage?

‘Bloody hell, I had no idea you were laying awake, and I must admit it was the same for me.'

‘Yes, Connie told me that she heard you tossing and turning.'

Derek suddenly stopped walking and, dropping her bags on the pavement, he turned to face her. ‘I ain't much good at fancy words, Pearl, but I think a lot of you. In fact, more than a lot.'

Pearl's breath caught in her throat. Was this it? Was he going to propose? ‘I … I think a lot of you too.'

His huge arms reached out, enfolding her, crushing her to his chest. ‘You've made me a very happy man. I can't say I'm pleased that you're moving out, but if both of us aren't getting any kip, perhaps Gran's right. We'll still see each other every day, but if you ain't happy at Mo's, just say the word.'

No proposal, Pearl thought, disappointed as she pulled herself out of Derek's arms. ‘I'm sure I'll be fine,' she whispered, and as he picked up the bags again, they continued their journey to Pennington Street.

It was Sunday morning before Pearl met Mo's daughter. She had gone down to the kitchen to get a drink but, seeing Emma, her jaw dropped. She had blonde, tousled hair, and was wearing Capri pants with a red, off-the-shoulder sweater. To Pearl she looked the ultimate in sophistication.

‘Watcha, Pearl, it's nice to meet you at last.'

‘Hello,' Pearl replied shyly.

‘So, you work in the café? Rather you than me.'

‘It's not too bad.'

‘What, you must be kidding. That Dolly Dolby is a right old dragon.'

‘Now then, Emma,' Mo admonished. ‘Dolly might be hard, but she's fair.'

‘Yeah, if you say so, Mum. Anyway, Pearl, what sort of music do you like?'

‘Er … I don't know really. I don't get the chance to listen to much music.'

‘Well, we can soon sort that out. If you ain't got
anything planned, come up to my room and we'll play some records.'

‘Not now, Emma,' Mo protested. ‘It's Sunday morning so let's listen to something soothing for a change. How about putting a few of
my
records on instead? Pearl might like Frank Sinatra, or maybe Doris Day singing “Secret Love”. That one's got a smashing tune.'

‘No, thanks, Mum, I don't want putting to sleep.' She turned to Pearl. ‘I suppose we'd better keep the old girl happy. We can listen to Bill Haley later.'

‘Old girl! Who are you calling an old girl? I'm only forty-three.'

‘All right, keep your hair on.'

‘Yours could do with a brush, my girl.'

‘You must be kidding. It took me ages to get it like this.'

‘You've wasted your time then. Why don't you have a nice perm like me?'

‘Mum, it's nineteen fifty-six, not 'forty-six. Perm indeed. They're for old ladies.'

Pearl listened to this repartee, unable to help smiling. The banter between Mo and her daughter was all light-hearted, with smiles to take the sting out of the words.

‘Why are you wearing those daft trousers again?' Mo asked her daughter.

‘Daft! They ain't daft. They're the latest fashion.'

‘Huh. What do you say, Pearl? Don't you think they look soppy?'

Pearl floundered. She didn't want to offend either of them. ‘Er … I think they're nice, and they suit Emma. I don't think I could wear them, though.'

‘Of course you could,' Emma said, looking Pearl up and down. ‘We'll still go up to my room but instead of playing records, we'll do something about your wardrobe.'

‘My wardrobe?'

‘Yeah, you need bringing up to date and I've got just the thing.'

Pearl followed Emma upstairs, surprised when instead of going to Emma's bedroom, they went into hers.

‘Right, let's have a look at your gear,' Emma said, sitting on the side of the bed.

‘I haven't got many clothes,' Pearl told her and, going to her sparse wardrobe, she pulled out the lovely rose-patterned dress. ‘I got this from the second-hand shop, but I haven't had the chance to wear it yet.'

‘Gawd blimey, it looks like something a posh bird would wear to a royal garden party. It's way too old for you.'

‘Is it? But I think it's lovely.'

‘I can see you need teaching a thing or too. What else have you got?'

‘Just a few skirts and blouses.'

‘Come on, I'll show you some of the latest gear,' Emma said, going into her room. She pulled out a pair of trousers. ‘I got these Capri pants in Petticoat Lane last week, but they're a bit too tight. Try them on.'

Pearl looked at the pale blue trousers doubtfully, but at Emma's insistence she slipped them on. ‘Here, try this sweater with them,' Emma said, holding out a black polo neck.

Once again Pearl did as she was told, and when she turned to look at herself in the mirror her eyes widened.

‘Sit down and I'll have a go at your hair. That style looks schoolgirly. You need to fluff it up a bit, like this,' Emma said, picking up a comb and vigorously backcombing Pearl's hair. ‘Don't you wear make-up?'

‘Er … no.'

‘Right, more to sort out. I'm gonna enjoy you living here, Pearl. It's sort of like having a kid sister. Here, try this,' she said, spitting on a block of mascara and rubbing it vigorously with the small brush. ‘Put some of this on your eyelashes, and then try some lipstick. You need a bit of powder too, but my shade would be too pale for your skin.'

Bemused, Pearl applied the make-up, astounded at the result. Her eyes looked larger, her lips fuller,
and though the backcombed hair looked strange, it did add height.

‘Come on, let's go and show Mum your new look,' Emma urged. ‘I can't wait to see her face.'

Pearl took one last look in the mirror before following Emma downstairs, and as they walked into the kitchen, Mo gaped. ‘My God, what has my daughter done to you?'

‘Leave it out, Mum. She looks great.'

‘She looks like a clone of all your friends. If you ask me, these new teenage fashions are like a uniform. Teddy boys all dress alike and you girls are the same.'

‘Take no notice of her, Pearl. In fact, next week I'll take you up to Petticoat Lane and you can buy a few things of your own.'

‘Thanks, Emma, but I'm afraid I can't afford new clothes. Any spare money I have goes on painting material.'

‘Painting! What do you mean?'

‘I … I go to art classes.'

‘Do you?' Mo said, and turning to her daughter she added, ‘You could do with taking a leaf out of Pearl's book. Instead of spending all your time going dancing you could be learning something too.'

‘Oh, yeah, like what?'

‘Well, how about dressmaking? That would come in handy.'

‘Mum, all my life I've had to wear clothes that you made for me, and jumpers that you knitted. It's the last thing that I want now and I'd sooner buy them off the rails.'

Mo's face saddened. ‘I didn't know you felt like that. I … I did the best I could.'

‘Oh, Mum, please don't get upset. I didn't mind when I was a kid, honestly I didn't, but it's different now that I can afford to buy my own clothes. Look, I'll think about learning something, maybe typing and shorthand.' She turned to Pearl, an appeal in her eyes, ‘Here, why don't you show us some of your paintings?'

Pearl took the cue. Emma had upset her mother and obviously wanted to divert the conversation. ‘I haven't done many paintings yet. But I've got lots of sketches.'

‘We'd still like to see them.'

Pearl hurried upstairs, grabbed her folder and riffled through it until she found the one of Mo. It was a good likeness, but unsure of how the woman would feel about it, she stuffed it into her dressing-table drawer before returning downstairs.

‘Gawd, look at this one of Dolly Dolby,' Mo said as they went through the folder. ‘And there's one of Gertie too. These are really good, Pearl.'

‘Thank you,' Pearl said, gratified to see Mo looking cheerful again.

‘Oh, look, here's one of Nora.'

‘It's not very good. She's a difficult subject.'

‘The poor woman is a sandwich short of a picnic, but she's harmless.' Mo picked up another sketch. ‘My goodness, this is a marvellous drawing of Derek.'

Emma looked over her mother's shoulder. ‘Yeah, but it doesn't make him look any better. Oh Christ, sorry, Pearl, I forgot you were going out with him.'

‘That's all right. I know he isn't much to look at, but he's a lovely man.'

Emma looked as if she was about to say something else, but then changed her mind as her mother found yet another drawing of someone she knew.

‘It's young Eric Hanwell. He looks so happy in this picture. Did you draw it before, well … you know?'

Pearl nodded, her face saddening. In the sketch Eric looked mischievous, impish, his gap-toothed grin wide. Would he ever look like that again? She looked up as Emma spoke.