‘It’s awright,’ Polly said hastily. ‘I’ve not told you the best part yet! I come out o’ the kitchen, bawlin’ like a five-year-old …’
She proceeded with her story, but when she got to the bit where Dana had taken her home Ernie interrupted. ‘Who did you say? That ginger girl what was a pal of the pretty one? What were her name, now? Oh aye, Caitlin. Where was she?’
‘I don’t know … yes I do. She’s gone back to Ireland,’ Polly said impatiently. ‘She’s got nothing to do with it! I’m tryin’ to tell you it were Dana – Dana McBride – who worked in the Willows a while back.’
‘Oh aye?’ Ernie gave a disdainful sniff. ‘She and t’other one ran that tea room … can’t remember what they called it … and turned it into a real posh restaurant. Come to think, they wasn’t like the rest of us at all. The
redhead talked all posh and BBC, as I remember.’ In what Polly supposed he thought was a refined falsetto, he said, ‘Oh, how fraightfully common these kitchen workers are, and we’re supposed to work alongside of ’em!’ He brightened suddenly as a thought occurred to him and he dropped back into his own voice. ‘I say, did she offer you a job? Any chance o’ me gettin’ work there? I ain’t keen on kitchen work, but—’
‘Oh, Ernie, don’t be such a bleedin’ beast! There’s no call to be nasty about Dana, as you’ll soon realise if you’ll just shut up and let me finish,’ Polly said, feeling tears rise to her eyes. Why on earth should Ernie start being downright horrid about Dana? He had not disliked her when they had worked together at the Willows. But men, even young ones, were odd creatures, so Polly took out a hanky and blew her nose, then addressed her companion. ‘Are you going to listen? She and Caitlin were cheated out of their tea room and then out of the restaurant. Caitlin went back to Ireland and Dana got a room in Temperance Court and a job of some sort, but listen to what happened after the Griffin kicked me out of me job …’
She began to tell him how Dana had whisked her away from the Willows and round to her room in the court, but once more she was interrupted.
‘I don’t see what reason she had for interferin’,’ Ernie put in. ‘I’d ha’ seen you right, Poll, honest to God I would.’
‘Yes, but Ern, you weren’t
there
,’ Polly pointed out. ‘And Dana was; well, not when the Griffin was bein’ horrible but later, when the old divil had throwed me out and I were cryin’ in the back yard. Honest, Ern, no one could have been kinder than Dana. She give me a hug and told me to dry me eyes, and then when we were
walkin’ along the pavement and I smelled a funny smell and we saw the moggies a-follerin’ us she made me laugh like anything.’
‘So she smells funny, does she?’ Ernie asked. He sniffed. ‘They say women wi’ red hair smells different from the rest of us; I believe it’s a sort of foxy smell. And you say the cats noticed and follered? Well, it don’t surprise me.’ He sniggered. ‘Glad I ain’t a carrot-top.’
‘Ernie Frost, you should be ashamed,’ Polly said hotly as they reached the little café and plonked themselves down, side by side, at one of the small tables. ‘Dana don’t smell – well, only of soap and that – and nor does anyone else wi’ red hair. The thing is … oh, sorry, miss, I didn’t see you there.’
The waitress whipped her pad out of her apron and stared at them, eyebrows lifting. ‘Yes, chuck? There’s a special offer on a pot o’ tea for two and a round of toast and jam. Want that?’
‘That’ll be grand,’ Ernie said, although Polly was thinking that on such a warm day lemonade would have been nice. The waitress scribbled on the page and left them and Polly scowled at her companion.
‘I never thought you could be so horrible, especially when the person you’re being horrible about were kindness itself to me,’ she said reproachfully. ‘Now just listen for a change and stop interruptin’. It were the fish that ponged. Dana works in the Great Charlotte Street fish market Fridays and Saturdays and the old woman what runs the stall give her a couple of pieces of plaice and some brown shrimps. Dana said they were fine an’ fresh, but a’course it were a warm day and … well, she give the fish to the moggies, anyway,’ she ended sulkily. ‘So
what can you make of that, eh? I suppose you wouldn’t laugh or think it funny, Mr Clever?’
Ernie was beginning to reply when the waitress returned with their tea and toast and Polly put milk in the cups and added the strongly brewed tea. She compressed her lips when Ernie said rather less aggressively that he was sorry if he had upset her, but he could not help feeling that, had he been present, he would have been as much use as Dana, probably more. ‘After all, she could have give you a job when them girls had the tea room, but she never,’ he pointed out righteously. ‘And if she’s workin’ at the fish market she can’t do much for you now. In fact, if you’d come to me earlier …’
Polly stared at him, her eyes rounding with astonishment. ‘If I’d come to you earlier what the divil d’you think you could have done?’ she demanded. ‘Oh, I suppose you’d have took me into your dorm in the hostel and let me sleep under your bunk! No one would have said a word when you brung me downstairs to share your breakfast, oh no, not they!’
‘Well, I’d have punched old Griffin on the nose for a start,’ Ernie said sulkily. ‘And I’d have talked to that old bag what runs the lodging house, told her you’d paid in advance and was entitled to stay wi’ her until you found somewhere else. Then I’d have gone to – to – the woman what runs the YWCA, and … and …’
It was now Polly’s turn to give a derisive sniff. ‘Oh yes, I can just see it! You’d be slung into jug by the nearest scuffer for grievous bodily harm, if that’s what they call punchin’ old women on the nose. Look, Ernie, I don’t want to quarrel wi’ anyone, particularly you, what’s me bezzie, but I shall if you don’t shurrup and let me finish me story.’
Ernie took a large bite of his toast and then picked up his cup and downed most of it in a large, and lamentably noisy, swallow. Then he wiped his mouth on his sleeve and grinned at his companion. ‘Awright, awright, queen. I won’t say another word until you give me the go-ahead.’ He began to twiddle his thumbs and cast his eyes heavenward with such a comical look that Polly had hard work not to laugh. But she remembered how nasty he had been about Dana, and hardened her heart.
She told the story quickly, aware that for some reason Ernie was not prepared to give Dana credit for rescuing his little pal from what might have been a very difficult and unpleasant situation, and when she finished she looked almost defiantly at him. ‘So she’s goin’ to help me look for a job, and until I get one we’re goin’ to share her rooms in Temperance Court,’ she finished firmly. ‘And so if you want to go on bein’ me best pal you’d best not make cracks about gals wi’ ginger hair. Because she saved me bacon, honest to God she did.’
Ernie seized the teapot and poured them both a second cup, then swivelled his chair so he could look at the clock above the long counter. ‘Awright, I admit she got you out of a hole,’ he said grudgingly. ‘And time’s gerrin’ on, so we should put our best foot forward, else you won’t be back at Badtemper Court by noon. But just you remember, if I’d been there …’
Polly grabbed her cup – the tea was nearly cold – and drained it, then turned a defiant look on Ernie. ‘Shut up!’ she yelled. ‘You’re stupid, you are! Dana won’t charge me rent until I’m in work; she came wi’ me to me lodgings and outfaced the landlady. She’s got a ’lectric iron and said I can use it to smooth me decent dress so when
we go job-hunting tomorrer I’ll look me best. But all you can do is say horrible things about red hair and posh voices. You make me sick, Ernie Frost! And if you don’t eat your bleedin’ words right here and now you won’t be me bezzie any longer. So there!’
‘Well, I’m sorry if I offended you …’ Ernie began, then changed tack. ‘I reckon that Dana’s lonely and wanted a flat-share, someone she knew and could trust. I reckon if someone real posh comes along you’ll find you’re out on your ear, and then I hope as you’ll remember your old friend and come to me in – in your hour of need.’
Polly bounced to her feet, almost overturning the table and causing the waitress to come hurrying across the room towards them. Ernie also stood up, but Polly was so furious that she put a hand on each of his thin shoulders and pushed him back into his seat. ‘Stay there!’ she yelled, snatching up her ancient handbag and overturning her almost empty cup of tea. ‘Don’t think you’re goin’ to see me home because you ain’t! Thanks for the tea and toast; when I’m earnin’ again I’ll pay you back for it!’
Ernie began to stand up again, muttering that he didn’t mean – it was she who had started the scene – he had been joking – couldn’t she take a joke? For the love of Mike, a feller couldn’t always be serious …
But Polly was already slamming out of the door and, when Ernie would have followed her, the waitress, smiling but steely-eyed, reminded him that he had not yet paid the bill for a pot of tea for two and buttered toast.
Ernie, fishing in his pocket for change, snorted. ‘That were margarine, not butter,’ he said, but he said it under his breath. He had just noticed that beneath her little lace cap the waitress sported a mass of bright red hair.
Chapter Six
THE COLDNESS BETWEEN
Polly and Ernie lasted until the summer was over, and it was Ernie himself who ended it. He hung around the area waiting for Polly, and whenever she appeared unaccompanied by Dana he would reiterate how sorry he was for his behaviour and how he missed his little pal. He begged to be allowed to meet Dana, but on this point at least Polly was adamant at first. She had acknowledged to herself that ridiculous though it might seem, Ernie was actually jealous of her friendship with Dana. He would have liked to be able to help her in some way but whilst he remained out of work this was not possible, and Polly was mortally afraid that if she allowed him to meet her friend he would make some remark which might be interpreted by the quick-witted Dana as criticism. No, better to keep them apart until Ernie’s resentment had begun to fade.
The girls’ search for work, however, was not crowned with much success, and even Dana’s job at the fish market was reduced from two days to one. However, they found employment eventually: tempory and part-time, but at least it meant that they could pay the rent. Dana came back from Fridays at the fish market not only tired but smelling strongly of her wares, and though she always
wore a large overall, which she took home with her and washed thoroughly, nothing, she felt, could entirely rid her of the smell of fish.
‘You want to wash your overall at work,’ Polly advised her. ‘Cripes, Dee, you can’t explain to folk what hold their snitches when you walk past that it’s the overall stinkin’ of fish and not yourself.’
‘Oh, I know, but there’s only the one tap between the lot of us, and at the end of the day there’s always a queue waiting to clean down the stalls and wash their hands,’ Dana explained. ‘I always make very sure that I don’t smell of fish by Saturday, though.’
Polly giggled. ‘Yes, it wouldn’t do to turn up at Mulligan’s Tea Rooms smelling of fish,’ she agreed. ‘The waitresses are almost as posh as the customers, from what you’ve told me.’
‘They are,’ Dana said gloomily. The girls were in the washhouse on Margaret Street, doing their weekly washing at two adjacent sinks. ‘And fussy – well, if the staff at the Willows worked at Miss Mulligan’s, they’d have a blue fit. Sandwiches must have the crusts cut off, tomatoes have to be skinned, sugar has to be lump and not loose, and if the dear little silver tongs have so much as a grain of sugar adhering to them the customer will send them back to the kitchen and demand a clean pair.’
‘And to think Miss Mulligan employs you as a waitress, ginger hair and all,’ Polly said. ‘Has she asked you to dye it black yet?’
Dana, scrubbing vigorously at the neck of one of the white blouses she wore to work, lifted it from the suds, wrung it out and dropped it into the more or less clear water in Polly’s sink. Then she pulled the
wooden plug from her own sink and dried her hands on a scrap of towelling. ‘Not yet,’ she said cheerfully. ‘But she wasn’t worrying about my hair when she interviewed me – I got the job because …’
‘Because you speak like a lady,’ Polly ended for her. She swished Dana’s white blouse through the rinsing water, then wrung it out and threw it into the laundry basket. She glanced outside and remarked that it was not yet raining, then helped Dana carry the washing basket and its now clean contents over to the line of mangles which stood near the door.
Polly began to shake the clothes out and feed them through whilst her friend turned the handle, though Dana gave a shriek of protest when Polly picked up her precious white blouse. ‘Don’t you
dare
mangle my blouse,’ she said. ‘The buttons will pop off like – like popcorn, and I won’t have anything to wear at work. Not that I’ll be working at Miss Mulligan’s for long, alas. She says she can manage without me now and won’t need me again until the Christmas rush starts.’
‘Oh, charming,’ Polly said sarcastically. ‘It doesn’t occur to her that you’ve got to eat in the weeks between now and Christmas, I suppose?’
‘Oh well. Maybe I’ll get another job; the corner shops will often take on someone part-time so the owner can go shopping at one of the markets,’ Dana said tolerantly. ‘How’s Ernie’s job-hunting going? I know he’s been cleaning cars for a garage on the outskirts of the city, but you said a few days ago that the work seems to be drying up.’
‘Dunno.’ Polly paused, then came to a decision. ‘But I thought, if you agree, Dana, that I might ask him back
to tea this evening. Well, it’ll be supper really, seeing as how we shan’t be finished here for another thirty minutes or so, and then we’ve got our messages to get. But late Sat’day evening is a good time for picking up bargains, so I thought we might get a cheap meal together and share it wi’ Ernie … if you’re agreeable, that is.’
‘Of course I am,’ Dana said at once. ‘I’ve not met him since you and I began to share the room but I’ve seen him hovering. Once or twice I nearly asked him why he didn’t come to the door like a Christian and ask for you, but it seemed a bit cheeky somehow.’ She looked narrowly at Polly. ‘Has he suddenly become shy? I don’t remember much about him at the Willows, but from what little I can recall he was pretty bouncy and self-confident.’