Memories Are Made of This (23 page)

BOOK: Memories Are Made of This
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He stopped and stared at her. ‘We had an agreement and you coming was part of the bargain. What's there to complain about? You're not going to have to spend a penny. Grub and entertainment free, so relax and enjoy yourself, kid.'

She realized he was right and smiled. ‘OK! I have to be home by eleven, though.'

‘We'll leave before all the bouts are over if necessary.' He pushed back his trilby. ‘Now, food. I'm starving!'

She was hungry, too, so did not dither when he led her into a pub. But she clung to his arm when she realized she was the focus of more pairs of men's eyes than she cared for. ‘Don't be worrying,' he said. ‘No one's going to jump on you while I'm here. Now grab a table and sit down while I see to the grub.' He removed her hand from his arm and left her alone.

She chose a table over by a window with a view of the entrance and once seated took a folded magazine from her bag and pretended to read it.

‘I got you a small lemonade,' said Marty, placing a glass in front of her.

‘Thanks.' She glanced at him over the magazine and reached for the glass of lemonade. ‘So tell me about this Bernie you're going out with.'

‘She's a cracker, but has a temper. I have a temper, too, but have better control of it, thanks to me dad. She's the youngest of ten and spoilt rotten. But I'll tame her once we're married.'

‘Tame her? Haven't you ever heard that women are equal to men? We fought for the vote!'

He gave a cheeky grin. ‘Just teasing. All you need to do is behave as if I'm the best thing since sliced bread,' said Marty, taking a mouthful of ale.

‘I don't like sliced bread. I like the crusty kind from the bakery that you can cut nice and thick.'

‘OK, I'm a crusty slice of bakery bread and you want to take a bite out of me,' said Marty.

Jeanette giggled. ‘I'm that hungry I would take a bite out of you if you were a loaf.'

Marty grinned. ‘Well, the food won't be long coming, so control yourself, girl.'

He was right. Within minutes their meal arrived and soon they were tucking into a plate of Scouse pie and mushy peas. She thought food had never tasted so good and it was soon gone.

‘I enjoyed that,' she said, wiping her fingers with her handkerchief. ‘Do we go now?'

‘In a minute. I'd like time to smoke a ciggie and then we'll be on our way.'

Once inside the Stadium, the noise was so tremendous she decided it would be a waste of time trying to make conversation, so she just sat there, watching what Marty was doing and waiting for the action to begin.

‘There she is,' he said suddenly in her ear.

Oh hell
! thought Jeanette, feeling her stomach turn over. She hoped that she wasn't going to throw up. ‘Where?' she croaked.

‘Don't look, don't look,' he said. ‘Bloody hell, what's she doing with him?'

‘Who's she with?' asked Jeanette, looking around wildly.

While she was trying to see whom Mary was referring to, unexpectedly she spotted Billy, whom she had believed was in Borstal, sitting between a couple of blokes. ‘What's he doing here?' she gasped.

‘Who?' asked Marty.

‘That Billy who started the fight in the chip shop and hit David Jones in the face with a bicycle chain.'

‘Oh him! His dad was drunk and fell in a dock. They pulled him out dead. His mam immediately put on a grieving act and said she needed her son home. They let him out for the funeral and to help her with the arrangements, but if he dirties his nose, he'll be for prison, I bet.'

She cast a surreptitious look at Billy and for a moment she thought he saw her and she immediately ducked her head. The last thing she wanted was for him to notice her. She wished fervently that she'd had more sense than to agree to come here with Peggy's brother.

‘What are you doing?' shouted Marty. ‘Keep your head up and look at me like I was that crust you're hungering for. She's spotted us!'

Jeanette felt her hair being pulled and her head was jerked upright. ‘That hurts!' she cried.

There was a sudden roar that drowned out his words but she read his lips. ‘Smile, honey bunch,' he commanded.

She smiled.

After that she almost relaxed. The crowd's attention, including Marty's, was centred on the boxing ring, which was not a ring at all but a square, which made Jeanette wonder why it was so misnamed. But she soon forgot such things and even Billy's presence was pushed to the back of her mind as the wrestlers did what they did best, whilst the crowd roared, groaned and whistled, and the women nearest the ring catcalled, insulted and advised the competitors what to do to each other as they slammed bodies onto the canvas or got their opponent into dangerous-looking headlocks. Jeanette had never felt so exhilar-ated, whilst at the same time she was on pins and wanting to get out of there.

‘Enjoying yourself?' asked Marty during a lull in the proceedings.

‘I'm exhausted,' said Jeanette. ‘And thirsty – and what's that smell?'

‘I presume you don't just mean the stench of sweat and beer but the overpowering odour of liniment and embrocation, my girl,' said Marty, grinning. ‘I wonder where Bernie's gone? He's still there but I can't see her.'

Jeanette did not care where his girl had gone. She'd had enough and wanted to leave. Her watch said that it was getting on for ten. ‘Listen, Marty. I think it's time I went.'

‘It'll be finishing soon. Just hang on a bit longer, kid,' he coaxed. ‘I'll see you onto a bus.'

Jeanette heaved a sigh. ‘OK.'

‘And who is this?' demanded a silky feminine voice, seemingly out of nowhere.

‘Bernie, what are you doing here?' asked Marty, looking as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth as he gazed up at her.

Jeanette looked the girl over and thought there was no accounting for taste: dyed red hair, eyelashes thick with mascara and lipstick so red it could have been blood. As for what Bernie was wearing beneath a rabbit skin coat – her Aunt Ethel would have ripped it off her back. The woman's breasts were hanging half out of a midnight-blue satin blouse.

‘You knew I'd be here. I told you so,' snapped Bernie. ‘Who is this . . . this person?' She leaned across him towards Jeanette and glared into her face.

On closer inspection, Jeanette realized Bernie was younger than she had first thought. ‘I don't think I'm any of your business,' she said, tilting her chin.

‘Oh no?' cried Bernie, and lashed out at her.

A shocked Jeanette felt the air rush over her skin as the other girl's fingernails narrowly missed their target.

Marty put an arm around Bernie's waist and yanked her backwards. ‘Are you bloody daft?'

‘Let me go! Let me get at her!' shrieked Bernie.

Jeanette pushed herself up out of her seat and said, ‘I'm going, Marty.'

She did not wait for him to argue with her but excused herself along the row in the opposite direction to Bernie until she reached the aisle. Then, clasping her handbag to her chest, she ran for the exit. She had just passed the end of the building outside when a figure suddenly loomed up in front of her and she almost died of fright.

‘So where do you think you're going, doll?' Billy grabbed hold of her shoulder and his grip was so painful she screamed. ‘Shut up,' he bellowed, wrapping his arm about her throat.

She panicked and kicked backwards and caught him on the shins with the heel of her shoe. He swore and his grip tightened about her throat. She could feel herself losing consciousness. Then a voice that seemed to come from a far distance, said, ‘What's going on here?'

She felt Billy's grip slacken and although her head was swimming, she managed to jerk herself free and stagger away from him. Without bothering to see who had spoken, somehow she found the strength to keep on moving. As soon as she turned the corner into Dale Street, she took to her heels. Even so, she kept glancing over her shoulder every time she heard footsteps behind her. At last she arrived at the bus stop and stood, shivering, praying her bus would come soon. When a hand suddenly seized her by the shoulder, she cried out.

‘Did I give you a fright?' asked Sam, gazing down at her.

She collapsed against him. ‘Am I glad to see you. Take me home, please!' she cried, bursting into tears.

Seventeen

Jeanette sat at the kitchen table, warming her hands on a mug of cocoa and trying to avoid her father's eyes. ‘Sam said you were frightened but wouldn't tell him why you were in such a state, where you'd been or why you were on your own, stinking of cigarette smoke and beer,' said George.

‘I haven't been smoking or drinking,' said Jeanette, rearing her head.

‘So you told him, but you've been somewhere that goes on. When Aunt Ethel told me you hadn't come home from work, I presumed you'd gone to the pictures with your friend, Peggy, but that can't be right because there aren't any cinemas near Dale Street.'

‘I didn't tell her that I was seeing Peggy,' said Jeanette. ‘I'm going out with her tomorrow night to a dance.'

‘No you're not, my girl,' said George firmly. ‘You're not going anywhere until I know where you were tonight. And while we're having this little talk, I'd like to know where you go every Saturday during the day when you're not in the office or at home.'

‘I work part time in a milk bar.' Jeanette gulped a mouthful of cocoa. ‘Aunt Ethel takes almost all of my normal wages and I'd have scarcely anything to spend if I didn't have this extra little job.'

George took a deep breath. ‘Right, I'll check that out and if you're lying to me—'

‘I'm not lying!' she cried. ‘Ask Hester, she's known right from the beginning because Aunt Ethel locked me in my bedroom the night before and I had to ask Hester to let me out, otherwise I wouldn't have made it in time.'

George swore beneath his breath. ‘Right, now tell me what you were doing this evening.'

Jeanette hesitated. ‘I was returning a favour.'

George visibly relaxed. ‘Now we're getting somewhere. What kind of favour?'

‘I'd asked someone to pass a message on for me and in return I said that I'd help them out. They said it would be an experience for me,' she said in a rush.

He paled. ‘What kind of experience?'

Jeanette bit down on her lower lip, knowing she had said too much.

‘Come on, explain, girl!' he rasped. ‘What kind of experience? Do you know how many young people end up in trouble because they want to experience stuff that is bad for them?'

Her green eyes flashed. ‘Don't give me that, Dad! I'm not stupid. I haven't done anything bad. I just went somewhere that I knew you wouldn't approve of and I wish I hadn't gone, but there it is, I went.' She took another mouthful of cocoa. ‘Now can I go to bed? I'm shattered.'

‘No you bloody well can't go to bed! I'll have you here all night until you tell me where you've been,' shouted George, slapping a large hand on the table.

She jumped and the cocoa went down the wrong way and she burst into a spasm of coughing. He swore again and got up and went round the table and banged her on the back.

‘What's going on?' Hester placed a hand on her father's shoulder.

Neither had heard the front door open and Hester come in.

George removed her hand and told her to sit down. ‘Why didn't you tell me that Jeannie had a part-time Saturday job?' he asked.

Hester said, ‘Now calm down, Dad. It's nothing for you to get worked up about. You don't want to knock her through to next week – which you would have if you'd kept banging her on the back. It's not like you to be violent. You don't realize your own strength.'

Jeanette gulped. ‘He hasn't hurt me,' she said hoarsely. ‘The cocoa went down the wrong way. I'll come clean. I went to the Stadium to see the wrestling and this girl attacked me.
I also saw that youth, Billy, who started the fight in the chippy, and I had such a fright. He followed me outside and had a go at me. I thought I was going to die! If it hadn't been for someone coming along, I think he might have killed me. Instead, I managed to get away and ran for my life.'

For several moments George stood silent and still, and then he reached for a chair and sat down heavily. It was Hester who asked, ‘What's he doing out of Borstal?'

‘Apparently his father got drunk, fell in a dock and drowned. They let Billy out for the funeral.'

Hester and her father exchanged looks. ‘We'll have to get someone onto this straightaway, Dad,' she said.

He nodded. ‘But let's get this cleared up first.'

‘OK,' said Hester.

Both looked questioningly at Jeanette. ‘I went with Marty,' she said.

‘Marty. Who's Marty?' demanded George, throwing his arms in the air.

‘Peggy's brother. He's OK – and she knows nothing about this. Bernie, the girl who attacked me, is his girlfriend and he was trying to make her jealous by taking me somewhere he knew she would be.' Jeanette looked at her father hopefully. Surely that explained everything and he would allow her to carry on with her part-time job and go to the dance tomorrow evening.

‘He took you to the Stadium to make her jealous?' George looked as if he could not credit it. ‘And she attacked you?'

‘She didn't hurt me. I pulled away and got out of there fast. Up until then Marty was going to see me to the bus stop, but I didn't wait,' said Jeanette. ‘I wish I had,' she added with a shiver.

Hester put an arm around her. ‘I wouldn't ask any more questions, Dad. I can't see our Jeanette ever going there again.'

‘It was smelly and really noisy and crowded – and just horrible,' added Jeanette as an afterthought. ‘Now can I go to bed?'

‘Yes, but you're not going out over the weekend. You're staying put and you can scrub the floors for Aunt Ethel,' said George in a voice that brooked no argument.

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