Ellen, cramming toast into her mouth, spoke thickly and Patty, gulping tea, nodded. ‘I don’t know that I particularly hate Mondays, but this one’s bound to be perfectly frightful. Christmas Day tomorrow, so we’ve got a pile of visits to get through before the holiday, then Mrs Knight and Merry coming home later in the day, only the snow will complicate things so you can bet their train will be late. And Darky’s on an early at the factory … Still, no use meeting trouble halfway. Did you have a good weekend?’
Ellen sighed blissfully and picked up her mug of tea. ‘It was one of the best! John gets on so well with me mam and dad, and Gran came for the day and she liked him too … then we went and picked the Christmas greenery – he’d never done that before and thought it grand – and put the ivy round the picture rails, the holly behind the pictures themselves and the mistletoe in bunches over doorways.’ She grinned wickedly at her friend. ‘You should have come over and brought Darky; I bet he’d have made good use of the mistletoe!’
‘Actually, I went out with someone else yesterday,’ Patty said demurely. She and Ellen were meeting for the first time since Friday. ‘Someone I knew from way back… Ellen, you won’t believe it, but you know that feller I’ve talked about, the one who ran away from the orphan asylum when I did?’
‘I know. The feller who promised to meet you and then never turned up,’ Ellen said, making more toast. ‘Don’t say he did – turn up, I mean!’
‘That’s right, he did. It was quite a coincidence, because I had no idea he was anywhere in the vicinity. Darky suggested that we should visit the funfair at New Brighton …’
The tale was soon told and then Patty admitted that she had invited Toby to Sunday dinner. ‘And after that, he took me back to the fair and I met everyone,’ she said enthusiastically. ‘They were so friendly, Ellen, they let me go on their rides for nothing and the women took me round their caravans and said I was welcome there any time. Everyone likes Toby – the men respect him, but the girls all vied for his attention. Honest, he made me feel like a queen, squiring me round the whole of the gaff – that’s the fairground – and explaining everything to me. He’s turned out really well. He’s self-confident, charming … well, you must meet him some day and then you’ll see for yourself.’
Ellen said that she would look forward to meeting this paragon – the only man, it appeared, who had ever had a chance with her friend.
Patty sniffed. ‘He’s just a pal,’ she insisted, scurrying about to collect all that she would need on her rounds that morning. ‘Still, I dare say you will meet him. In different circumstances I would have asked him back here to share our Christmas dinner, but since Mrs Knight has already asked the girls and myself to go next door, that’s out of the question. Besides, there’s a grand spirit amongst fair folk and I gather he’s been invited to spend the holiday with a family who are in winter quarters not far away, so that’s all right.’
‘What about Boxing Day?’ Ellen asked, beginning to pack her own black bag, though she was still crunching toast. ‘Mind, I’ll not be back until the twenty-eighth, so I won’t see him even if he does come round then.’
‘If I can arrange it, I’m seeing him tonight,’ Patty explained. ‘The fair’s opening for a special Christmas Eve event tonight so he’ll be busy, but I promised I’d go over to New Brighton if I could get away and help him on his shooting gallery. But of course that depends on whether Mrs Knight can keep an eye on Merry, since I don’t think our Maggie will be back for a week or so yet.’
Ellen groaned. ‘And I’m off home as soon as I finish work, so I can’t come wi’ you and spy on him,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Never mind, we’re sure to meet up eventually. Oh, by the way, what has Darky had to say about this Lothario?’
‘He hasn’t said anything,’ Patty said, looking mildly surprised. ‘Why should he? If I’ve said it once I’ve said it a hundred times: Darky and myself are just good pals. Why, I say it to him and he never contradicts.’
Ellen, now struggling into her mackintosh, shook a reproving head at her. ‘If you’re trying to convince me that Darky isn’t interested in you, then you’re fair and far off, queen. The feller’s crazy about you; I’ve known it for months and months. Why, in me heart I knew it when he were taking me about, which is why I didn’t make more of a push to keep him. Not much point in hoping when you see that look in a feller’s eyes every time they rest on your best friend!’
‘Well, I don’t see it,’ Patty said obstinately, struggling into her own coat and checking with her eye that the fire was damped down and the place in reasonable order. ‘He’s proved to be a good pal, better than I’d ever hoped, but that’s all there is to it. And anyway, I remember Mrs Knight telling me all about his dead wife. Meek and sweet and compliant were the words she used. And you can’t pretend, Ellie, that I’m any of those things.’
‘Perhaps that’s what he likes about you,’ Ellen said. ‘So he was charming to your Toby, was he? Stepped into the background like? That’s a loud ’un, I’ll be bound! Pull the other one, queen, it’s got bells on!’
‘I’m telling you, Ellie …’ Patty was beginning crossly when there was a loud knock on the door. The girls looked at each other, then Patty went across and pulled it open. ‘Yes? Can I …’ she began, then recognised her caller and held the door wide. ‘Darky! Whatever’s happened? You should be at work!’
Darky came into the room carrying a carpetbag. He was so wet that he could have just emerged, dripping, from a suicide attempt in the River Mersey and Ellen, the irrepressible, immediately told him so. ‘Well, when I heard the news it was what I felt like,’ he admitted, still grinning. Then he turned to Patty, the grin disappearing. ‘You’re right, I should be at work, queen, but there was a phone call at Levers from me mam and the boss gave me special permission to come back here and tell you meself. Mam rang as soon—’
‘What’s happened?’ Patty demanded, feeling the blood drain from her face. ‘Oh, don’t say your mam’s been ill… don’t say Merry’s been hurt!’
‘Measles,’ Darky said succinctly. ‘I’m awful sorry to be the bearer of bad tidings, queen, but Mam called the doctor in yesterday, even though it were a Sunday, because the littl’un were so poorly. Mam were real worried, but this morning, first thing, the rash had come out and the doctor called again and confirmed it were the measles. Mam says she’s got Merry tucked up in bed wi’ plenty of fruit juice to drink, some lozenges to suck because her throat’s sore, and me aunt’s little wireless set beside the bed and the curtains down because they don’t want Merry trying to use her eyes too much. The doctor’s some sort of specialist in children’s complaints, it seems, and he’s anxious that there should be no eye strain, Mam says.’
‘Oh, the poor little darling … and your poor mam, stuck up there nursing Merry, when it’s my job really,’ Patty said, much distressed. ‘I ought to go to her… but how can I? I’m busy every minute of today and I’m on call tomorrow for emergencies … oh, Darky, I’m so sorry! But I’ll go up there just as soon as the authorities can find someone to replace me.’
‘Mam said as how you’d want to be up there, but she also said you shouldn’t do anything so mad,’ Darky said comfortably. ‘She says what can you do that she and her sister can’t, just for a start? Then she says you’ve never had the measles, and what good would it do for you to catch them?’
Patty was forced to agree with this eminently sensible point of view, though her heart yearned to be with Merry, to see for herself that everything that should be done was being done. However, as Mrs Knight had said, it was pointless for her to expose herself to infection. Grownups were apt to get children’s diseases really badly, so Mrs Knight and her sister could end up nursing a thoroughly sick patient and cursing Patty’s foolishness in coming to Scotland.
‘You’re quite right of course – or rather your mam is. I’d be more of a hindrance than a help if I went up to Glasgow,’ Patty agreed. ‘But oh, poor little Merry! And poor Mrs Knight! And how selfish I’m being because this is going to ruin your Christmas, isn’t it? Though, naturally, you’ll come here for the day, instead of us coming to you as we’d originally planned. I know Mrs Knight was having her turkey cooked at Kelly’s bakery, so I’ll collect it for her tomorrow morning and bring it back here, if that’s all right. I’ll do the potatoes and the veggies and steam the pudding, of course. So you’ll get your Christmas dinner, Darky.’
Ellen had been listening to every word and now she said impulsively: ‘Why don’t the two of you come over to me mam’s for your dinners? I don’t like to think of you all by yourselves on such a day.’
Darky looked embarrassed, though he smiled his thanks at Ellen. ‘Well, I don’t think as I’ll be around tomorrow,’ he said slowly. ‘I talked to the boss and he’s agreed I can take a week off wi’out pay so I looked up the trains and I’m going up to Glasgow meself, if that’s all right by you, Patty. You see, I’ve had the measles and I’m a pretty handy sort of feller about the house, so I can be really useful to Mam and me aunt, getting the messages and so on. So if you’ve got any Christmas gifts already parcelled up, I’ll stick them in the top of me carpetbag and pretend I’m Father Christmas. The truth is, I’m really fond of Merry and she’s fond of me, so when the ladies want a bit of a rest, like, I can amuse Merry.’ He glanced anxiously from Ellen to Patty. ‘If you agree, that is,’ he ended.
Ellen, making her way to the door with her bag slung over one shoulder, slapped him on the back as she passed. ‘You’re a grand feller, Darky,’ she said appreciatively. ‘There ain’t many as would give up their Christmas to look after a sick kiddie, especially if it means travelling on Christmas Eve; I reckon the trains will be packed today.’
‘Oh, I don’t mind the journey, or missing Christmas in Liverpool,’ Darky said easily. ‘I’ll miss you, though, Patty. Still, I dare say your pal Toby Rudd will keep you occupied.’
‘I don’t know about that,’ Patty said doubtfully, moving towards the door and following Ellen out on to the landing. ‘He’s got his own plans for Christmas Day, though if he knows I’m at a loose end I suppose he might come round and share the turkey. Anyway, I’m so grateful, Darky, that I scarcely know what to say. If you’re up in Glasgow, then I know everything will be just fine and Merry will soon be home and fit again.’ Abruptly, she clapped a hand to her mouth, then spun round and headed back to No. 24. Unlocking the door, she shouted over her shoulder to Darky: ‘The presents! Hang on a mo’, they’re in my room. Shan’t be a tick.’
With the gaily wrapped parcels reposing in Darky’s carpetbag, the two of them began to descend the stairs. When they reached the bottom, Patty unchained her bicycle and prepared to mount. Ellen had gone, and just for a moment Patty’s gratitude to Darky was so great that she felt tears come to her eyes. He was a good man and no one could have a better friend, but to tell him so would only embarrass them both, so she said lightly: ‘What time does your train leave, Darky? You mustn’t miss it.’ By now, she was cycling slowly across Ashfield Place with Darky keeping pace beside her. He hitched his watch out of his waistcoat pocket and consulted it.
‘I leave in forty minutes,’ he said briefly. ‘I’ll get a tram on the Scottie and be there in no time.’ As they reached the main road, Darky slowed and Patty dismounted from her bicycle. For a moment they simply stood there, Patty staring into the dark face above her own, whilst a mixture of extraordinary emotions swirled into her mind. She suddenly realised that she would miss Darky, miss him badly; that the week of his absence stretched cold and empty before her. But this was ridiculous! He was only a friend, only a friend, and she had lots and lots of those. Besides, Toby would be here, taking her out, making much of her, introducing her to life on the gaff. Resolutely, she banished the feeling that she was being abandoned and held out her hand, smiling up into Darky’s face.
‘We’d best say goodbye now. I can see my tram bearing down on us,’ Darky said, grasping her hand. ‘Take care of yourself, Patty, and you can be sure Mam and I will be taking good care of Merry.’
Almost as he spoke, the tram drew up alongside in a flurry of water and descending passengers. Darky swung himself on to the platform, lifted his hand in a half-salute, and then he was gone and the tram was rocketing away towards Lime Street station.
Patty sighed and remounted her bicycle. The day felt oddly flat, as though all possibility of pleasure had been leached out of it by Darky’s departure, but of course there was still her work. And Toby Rudd.
Patty began to pedal towards her first patient.
Darky caught the train in good time and actually managed to acquire a corner seat, so it was with some expectation of an interesting journey that he settled into it as the train drew out of Lime Street station. The snow, which had fallen desultorily earlier in the day, had stopped and now a light rain drizzled against the panes, obscuring his view of the fleeting countryside passing by. The carriage was full and most people had brought books and magazines with them, including Darky, who spread out his copy of a national daily and began to read. After a few sentences, however, his mind insisted on returning to its present preoccupation, which was whether he had done a very wise or a very foolish thing in catching the train for the north and leaving the field to Toby Rudd.
For some time after his mother’s telephone call, he had fretted over what was best to be done. He told himself that he did not dislike Toby Rudd, but knew that he did not trust him. The other man wanted Patty all right but Darky thought he wanted her for the wrong reasons; in fact, Toby needed her. He was an unmarried man, living alone in a pretty sumptuous caravan, and he badly needed help on his shooting gallery. What was more, Toby had big ideas. He wanted to be a Riding Master with his own fair and this would only be possible if he had a wife to help him as he built up his various fairground attractions.