Darky muttered something which Patty could not catch but she was too excited at the thought of seeing Toby again to wonder how Darky felt. ‘You must come to my place,’ she said at once. ‘I usually cook a big Sunday dinner around one o’clock. Can you be there by then? I live at Twenty-four Ashfield Place – Darky and his mam live next door – so all you’ve got to do is catch a ferry and transfer to a number forty-three or forty-four tram. Well, I suppose any tram heading for Scotland Road would do, come to that; it’ll say on the destination board. Then you want to get off at the Silvester Street stop and walk along Silvester Street until you reach Latimer on your right. You go down there until you get to Ashfield Street and we’re just off that; it’s a landing house and we’re on the top floor, right at the end of the balcony. Think you can find us?’
By now, they had reached the pier and could see the ferry waiting. Patty disengaged her arm from Toby’s as he replied that he would find her with ease, would be with her by noon, if that was all right. ‘We’ll have a good old talk, and since you’re treatin’ me to dinner I’ll take you somewhere for a high tea,’ he said gallantly. ‘See you tomorrow then, queen. Tara, Darky, nice to have met you.’
‘Well, wasn’t that the strangest thing?’ Patty said as the two of them climbed aboard the ferry and took their places in the bows. ‘To tell you the truth, Darky, I never expected to see Toby again, not once he’d escaped from the children’s home and joined the fair. In fact, the last time we met, we made one of those silly kids’ arrangements to meet again in five years’ time. I – I went to the meeting place, but of course Toby must have been miles away and couldn’t manage it. He was a good friend to me when I was in the Durrant, so it’ll be grand to hear what he’s been up to since then, and to tell him how I’ve fared, of course.’
‘Aye, I’m sure it’ll be grand,’ Darky echoed rather dismally. He hesitated, glancing awkwardly at Patty. ‘These fair folk, they’re real fly-by-nights, you know, queen. I’m not sayin’ there’s anything wrong with Toby, but from what you say it’s been years since you last met. Fellers change – I dare say girls do, too – so the kid you knew when you were at Durrant House …’
‘I know what you mean, but Toby’s different,’ Patty assured him. ‘Perhaps it’s because he spent a lot of time away from the fair, but he is reliable, truly he is.’
‘Patty, you can’t know that,’ Darky said obstinately. ‘I told you, folk change as the years pass, and it sounds as if most of his adult life has been spent with the fair. I’m not trying to interfere, I’m just trying to warn you …’
Patty turned on him, feeling the hot blood rush to her face. Didn’t want to interfere indeed! Why, she had felt from the first that he did not like Toby, considered him no fit companion for a girl like herself. But he was wrong, totally wrong! ‘I don’t need advice from you or anyone else, Darky Knight,’ she shouted into the windy darkness. ‘He’s my pal and he’s never been nasty or unfair to me once. He didn’t ask questions which made me feel uncomfortable and he certainly never suggested that I couldn’t run my own life. Just you save your warnings for those who need them.’
Even in the dim light aboard the ferry, Patty could see the colour rise in Darky’s lean cheeks and she waited, half fearfully, for the explosion which would surely follow. Instead, however, he just said quietly: ‘I’m sorry, queen I didn’t mean to offend you. I expect he’s a grand chap really, but the truth is … well, the truth is, I felt a bit jealous. It’s taken me weeks and weeks to get you to so much as hold my hand, but this evening you’d no sooner set eyes on Toby than you were in his arms.’
‘I was nothing of the sort,’ Patty blazed. ‘I – I may have taken his hands … I know he took my hat off … oh, for goodness’ sake, I refuse to quarrel with you, Darky, no matter how annoying you may be. You’ve been a grand friend to me; none better, just like your mam, and I wouldn’t want to fall out with either of you. Only don’t say nasty things about Toby, understand?’
The ferry was drawing alongside the Pier Head and Darky nodded resignedly, then took her arm. ‘All right; we’ll play by your rules. I just don’t want to see you get hurt,’ he muttered, as they made their way on to the landing stage.
Patty considered the remark carefully and decided that it was harmless; in fact, it was the sort of thing his mother might have said to her, had she been present. And she had been speaking no more than the truth when she said she did not wish to quarrel with Darky. When they had been bad friends, life had been so difficult, so complicated. So she said, in a small voice: ‘I know you’re only trying to do what’s best. And now let’s talk about something else, like Christmas. After all, it’s only three days away.’
After he had seen Patty safely into her own house, Darky returned to No. 23. The fire had burned very low so he stirred it up with a poker and put fresh fuel on, then pulled the kettle over the burgeoning flames. It was very late, but he knew that if he went straight to bed he would simply lie in the dark thinking bitter thoughts and that would never do. A nice hot cup of tea and one of his mother’s currant biscuits would help to relax him, and he would try to work out what his strategy should be with regard to Toby Rudd. For there was no doubt in Darky’s mind that Toby posed a very real threat to his, Darky’s, relationship with Patty. She had long insisted that she was not interested in marriage and had no wish for the complication of a man in her life. But both he and his mother had lately noticed signs of softening in her. This very evening, when he had slid an arm round her waist, she had actually responded and put her arm round him, and both in the bumper car and on the waltzers she had snuggled up to him, pushing her face into his chest so that the scent of her soft hair had caressed his nostrils intoxicatingly. When he had held her hand, she had not objected in the slightest, and he had been planning how gently and lovingly he would kiss her goodnight on their arrival home, when Toby had burst into their lives.
It was all very well telling himself that Toby knew very little of the grownup Patty. After a few meetings – and clearly Patty intended to continue to meet Toby – that argument would no longer hold water. What was more, Patty and Toby seemed to have shared a warm and loving friendship as children which meant they could look back on a happy past together. Darky knew that his own past, so far as it involved Patty, was a pretty black one. He had done his best to discredit her with anyone willing to listen to his criticisms, and this could scarcely have endeared him to her. Further, he had pulled no punches so far as Patty herself was concerned. He had snubbed her, criticised her conduct to her face, or ignored her completely. He had taken her best friend out and then dropped her, leaving Patty to deal with Ellen’s unhappiness as best she could. It would have been simple for Patty to tell Ellen what an unpleasant sort of man Darky was. To comfort her by explaining how Darky had treated Patty himself, but he knew she had done no such thing. And what had he done? He had met Patty at New Brighton the previous summer and spent a gloriously happy day with her and Merrell and then, just because the kid had widdled on his lap, he had spoiled it all, losing his temper and bawling Patty out for something which was most certainly not her fault.
So what should he do? He neither liked Toby nor trusted him, though the feeling had no foundation so far as he could see. He could not, however, deny Toby’s undoubted attraction. He was handsome in an exciting, rakish sort of way, and working the fairs was a good deal more interesting than working in a soap factory, no matter how good your employers nor how stimulating your fellow workers. Whoever married Toby would also marry the fair; Darky realised that, even if Patty did not, but this was not not necessarily a disadvantage to a girl whose life had been as circumscribed as Patty’s had. Even if it was true that Toby meant to remain in New Brighton – and Darky doubted this – Toby’s wife would be involved with the fair. So if they married and Toby moved away, Patty would be bound to follow.
At this point in his musings the kettle boiled and Darky heaved it off the stove and made the tea. Then he slumped back in the fireside chair once more, sipping the hot liquid. Another worry, now that he came to think of it, was that Toby had a home to offer Patty whereas he, Darky, did not. The caravan was delightful, what was more. Every inch of space was put to good use and every modern convenience which could be installed in a mobile van was ready to hand. He had seen Patty’s admiring gaze sweep around Toby’s home and had bitten back the desire to point out how tiny it was, how cramped and confining it would be for Maggie and Merrell. He knew now that such criticism would only alienate Patty and turn Toby from a possible rival into a probable enemy.
Darky finished his drink, got to his feet and made for his bedroom. It was pointless driving himself mad by anticipating the worst. He would simply have to wait and see what happened and how Patty reacted to the adult Toby when she knew him a little better.
He was actually in bed and settling down when another thought struck him. So far as he was aware, Toby knew nothing about either Merrell or Maggie. When he found out that he was expected to take on a girl of fourteen and a baby of three, perhaps his enthusiasm for Patty would wane. Come to that, Darky told himself drowsily, it was quite possible that he was not even considering marriage, and Patty was far too conventional to simply move in with a fellow. Darky thought Patty was brave and hardworking as well as deliciously pretty, but that didn’t mean to say Toby would feel the same. Toby was an adventurer, a go-getter; his attitude to women would be coloured by the ones he knew best, and they would be fairground girls who understood his way of life and were probably a good deal more suited to it than dear little Patty Peel. Furthermore, Darky’s mother would return the day after tomorrow. Once she was back, he would be able to consult her on the best way to deal with the menace of Toby Rudd.
Much comforted by this thought, Darky fell asleep at last.
Patty woke on Sunday morning and was immediately aware of a feeling of great happiness and contentment. With her brain still fogged by sleep, she thought at first that it was because Mrs Knight and Merrell were returning today, but then she remembered that this was Sunday, not Monday, and that the feeling of well-being was because she and Toby Rudd had met up once more and he would be having dinner with her this very day.
Patty jumped out of bed, heaved her nightgown over her head and began to wash. She had bought a small joint from the butcher on Limekiln Lane, and an assortment of vegetables. Fortunately, the joint would be plenty big enough for two, since she had meant to ask Darky to share her meal with her. It seemed a bit mean to exclude him but she had already decided that the old saying ‘two’s company, three ain’t,’ was particularly true so far as Darky and Toby were concerned. Throughout the lovely evening they had spent together, she had been uneasily aware that Toby had not taken to Darky and that the feeling was mutual. She and Toby needed to be alone, she decided, dressing hastily, for her bedroom was very cold. She wanted to know exactly what had happened to him after they had parted company all those years ago, and though she did not mean to ask where he had been in November 1923, she rather hoped that he might tell her of his own accord.
Then she had so much to tell him! Oh, it would not be exciting and adventurous as his life had undoubtedly been, but it had its high spots. Finding out that her mother may have been a nurse would surely interest Toby? And then – and then there were all the examinations she had had to take; her first job as a general skivvy at the hospital, her gradual ascent of the ladder until at last she had become a State Registered Nurse, and the final accolade, when she had passed her midwifery examinations with flying colours and had taken up her first post in the community. Patty finished dressing and hurried through into the kitchen. She went straight to the pantry and found a packet of rice, smiling with satisfaction as she took it down from the shelf. She would do a savoury rice dish to go with the mutton, potatoes, swede and cabbage, and make a lemon sponge pudding for dessert. This would mean a hasty rush down to the corner shop for a lemon and some icing sugar – how she longed for Maggie at that moment – but it would be worth it to show Toby what a good cook she was.
Humming a tune beneath her breath, Patty decided to make a Victoria sponge, fill it with butter icing and jam, and cover the top with white frosting. Then she would write ‘Welcome Toby’ in pink letters and he would know himself truly wanted.
She glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece and saw that it still lacked ten minutes to nine. Good, she had plenty of time. For the first time since Mrs Knight had carried Merrell off to Scotland, she found herself grateful for the child’s absence. She loved Merrell dearly but knew that, had she been present, it would have been impossible to work with the necessary speed, impossible to concentrate quite so totally upon her expected guest.
Whenever she remembered that Merrell would return the following day, however, she was suffused with a warm glow of love. Into her mind there flashed a picture of the little girl as she was now; she could see the child’s clear skin and bright eyes, the soft blonde curls which clustered over her small, round head, and the way she smiled, showing her tiny, pearly teeth. I am so lucky, Patty told herself, slipping into her coat and making her way to the corner shop. I’ve got the prettiest, sweetest little girl in the world, a nice home of my own and a great many good friends. I love Merrell so much that if I had to give up work in order to take care of her I’d do it, though I love my work too. But I’m lucky enough to have Maggie, who is worth her weight in gold, and Mrs Knight, the best neighbour in the world. And then there’s Ellen … not everyone would have been as patient and forbearing as Ellen had been, taking her turn with the all the housework, baby-sitting when I was working late at night… yes, they don’t come much better than Ellen.
At this point in her musings, she reached the shop and made her purchases and presently, back in the kitchen once more, her thoughts returned to the day ahead and what she should say to Toby. She did not want to bore him with a blow-by-blow account of the last – heavens! – decade or so, yet she wanted him to be as familiar with her life as she hoped to become with his. She wondered what would interest him most: how she had come to take on Merrell, or the relationship between the two girls, or how she had struggled up from hospital skivvy to the position of trusted and respected midwife.
Sighing to herself, Patty began to get the ingredients for her cake out of the cupboard and arrange them across the kitchen table.
*
Toby arrived punctually at twelve o’clock and took a good look around while he was at it. Because it was so near Christmas and a cold day, there were no more than half a dozen children playing out in Ashfield Place and Toby was agreeably surprised at their clean and almost prosperous look. Patty’s found herself a good neighbourhood, he thought, slowly ascending the metal stairs and peering inquisitively along each landing as he reached it. The houses were all smartly painted, with shining windows, decently curtained. Toby’s opinion of Patty’s home rose. The house was conveniently situated for her work, she had told him, and he supposed he had half expected to find her living in a crowded court or a rundown little back to back, but here she was, in what seemed to him a very superior dwelling indeed. Without really thinking much about it, he had assumed that his proposal of marriage – should he make one – would be happily accepted since it would be taking Patty up in the world. She would live in his grand caravan and her only real work would be that of keeping the van clean, doing all the usual domestic tasks, and appearing, like an actress on a stage, behind the shooting gallery every evening. Afternoons, being nowhere near so busy as evenings, could be managed either by himself or one of the youngsters on the gaff.
Toby told himself he was not conceited, but he knew he was very popular with the fair sex and had little doubt that he could win Patty round. He had seen her with Darky, but they were clearly just friends. So there should be nothing to prevent his beginning to court Patty, for he had speedily decided that she was the girl for him. She was pretty, intelligent, fun-loving … but it was not, if he were honest, any of those things which mainly attracted him. It was that glorious mass of gold, curling hair. Oh, she tied it back, scraped it off her face, pushed it out of sight beneath her hat at work no doubt, but he was sure she would see the sense of wearing it loose when working the shooting gallery. He told himself jubilantly that Patty’s glorious tresses would have everyone gaping, open-mouthed, and not just the flatties either. Other fair folk would see its attraction at once and would marvel at his perspicacity and good fortune.
Having made up his mind, he would most definitely make it clear to Patty that he was serious. A man came down towards him as he ascended the steps to the top landing and murmured ‘Good morning’ but did not stop. It was Darky Knight and Toby remembered Patty had said he was her next-door neighbour. Thank goodness, he thought, Patty’s invitation had not included the other man. He hurried along, checking the numbers as he went, and presently knocked on the door of No. 24. As he waited for Patty to answer his knock, he smoothed down his hair, which had been rumpled by the stiff wind coming off the Mersey, and prepared to charm.
Toby put down his spoon and heaved a satisfied sigh, then grinned across the table at Patty. ‘That was one of the best meals I’ve ever had,’ he said truthfully. ‘You’re a grand cook, girl! So come on, tell me why someone hasn’t snapped you up and carried you off to his mansion to cook meals like that for him three times a day!’ He blew out his cheeks expressively. ‘You’re a bleedin’ marvel, Patty Peel, because I know your mam didn’t teach you to cook like that. You must be a natural.’
‘It’s not quite so simple as that,’ Patty said, returning his smile. She looked even prettier, he decided, when flushed both from cooking and from his praise. She really was a darling, and he was going to be the luckiest of fellers. ‘When I decided to do my midder – that’s my midwifery course to you – I lived with an older woman, Mrs Ruskin, and she taught me all about the job. Only, since we were sharing a house, she also taught me to cook and I must admit I took to it like a duck to water. I suppose it’s because I enjoy my food,’ she added, glancing down at her empty plate. ‘Anyway, though in theory Ellen, Maggie and myself share the cooking, it’s usually me who does the slightly more complicated things. Oh, and bread and cakes and fancy puddings and so on,’ she ended.
‘Well, I’m not a bad cook meself,’ Toby told her. He leaned across the table and patted her pink cheek. ‘Now you just sit yourself down by the fire and I’ll make us both a nice cuppa and begin the washing up. We fellers who live in caravans have to be pretty handy … I’ll show you what I can do, and whilst I do that you can tell me all about your life since we last met. I’ve done most of the talking so far, so now it’s your turn.’
He pulled the kettle over the flame and made the tea when it boiled. Then he poured the rest of the water into the sink, topped it with cold and began to wash up the plates. Patty had obediently begun to talk, growing more eager and enthusiastic as she warmed to her task, but Toby only listened with half an ear. He was planning his strategy. He thought he would take her back to New Brighton presently and introduce her to all the fair folk, show her round, let her have a go on the shooting gallery, take her up in a swing boat. The fair was always closed on a Sunday so they would be able to muck about without having to worry over flatties. And then they would have a grand high tea in New Brighton and return to his van for a nice cup of cocoa and a piece of fruit cake before catching the ferry back to the ’Pool. This time it would not be the last ferry, so he could bring her home and whisper sweet nothings into her ear – perhaps even have a bit of a kiss and a cuddle – before he had to return to the fair.
By the time he had finished the washing up and had dried all the dishes, pans and cutlery, Patty seemed to have reached the time when she had finally become a midwife and moved into the landing house. To be honest, Toby had hardly listened at all once he realised that her story was going to be mainly about passing examinations and learning to deliver babies. I’m not a squeamish feller, he told himself righteously, scrubbing industriously at the inside of the baking tin, but I really don’t want to hear about this poor woman with a dozen kids … oh, God, I can tell the poor woman’s going to die … I do think Patty might remember that fellers don’t want to hear all the disgusting details about childbirth, no matter how much they may enjoy the part before that!
Diligently, therefore, Toby simply stopped listening and turned his thoughts to some work he meant to do on the caravan to bring it even more up to date. He heard Patty’s voice rising and falling as he finished the clearing away and wiped his hands. Then, since she seemed to have paused for a moment, he turned to her, smiling.
‘Well, you’ve certainly been busy whilst I was earning my place at the fair! So when am I going to see this paragon child of yours? This Maggie?’
‘I don’t know; didn’t you hear me say that her father sent a message round this morning to say she’s gone and caught the measles?’ Patty said, sounding rather puzzled. ‘Oh, I suppose it’s the names that confuse you – Merry and Maggie do sound rather alike.’ She had been sitting by the fire, sipping her tea, but now she stood up and crossed the kitchen, getting her coat down off the hook behind the door. ‘I really ought to tell Darky – that’s Mr Knight; you met him yesterday – since it may mean a lot of extra work for—’
‘He’s gone out. I met him as I climbed up your stairs,’ Toby said quickly. For all he knew, the chap might have returned already, but he did not want Patty distracted today, especially not by another feller. ‘Shall we go now? I want to introduce you to me pals on the gaff, and since it’s a Sunday and the place is closed we can have a go on just about anything.‘
Patty, beaming, agreed at once, and without more ado the two of them set out. Patty chattered on, largely about folk who were strangers to Toby. She talked of a Nurse Purbright and a baby – Toby was not sure whose baby – and various other people whose lives interwove with Patty’s. Toby, who very much disliked listening to stories about people he had never met, simply ceased once again to pay attention. On the walk down to the ferry he looked into shop windows or gazed at other girls – none as pretty as Patty – and once aboard he enjoyed the ship’s movements, the tingling freshness of the air and the cries of the seagulls. He reminded himself that, when summer came, he would be back with the Flanagans once more, moving on every few days, living the roving, adventurous life he loved.
He was sure that Patty would very soon realise they were made for each other. Oh, she might cling to her job and her friends for a bit, but once she had grown used to the fair, grown used to the free and exciting life – grown used, in fact, to his company – he had no doubt that he would be able to persuade her to try the road.
Smiling to himself, he put an arm round Patty’s supple waist and gave her a squeeze, and, when she pulled back, laughed at her and reminded her that they had been pals for a long, long time. ‘I wouldn’t ever do anything to upset me pal,’ he told her caressingly. ‘When we were kids you were the only girl I’d ever really cared about, and now… well, now I’m wondering how I ever managed without you all those years.’
And Patty, smiling shyly up at him, told him that she was beginning to wonder the same thing.
‘Are you nearly ready, Patty? Oh, how I hate a wet Monday morning, but a snowy one is worst of all!’