The Beachcomber (27 page)

“Fair enough.” Maggie knew he was bluffing. “Let’s put it to the test, shall we?”

Scrambling out of his chair, he almost ran to where she stood. “Now, now, Maggie, let’s not be too hasty.” Pressing himself against her, he stroked her arm. “I dare say I could forget that last complaint.”

Maggie gave him a cool stare. “If you mean the old biddy who threatened me with her umbrella, I don’t give a bugger. If I ever set eyes on her again, I swear, I’ll knock her lights out. I don’t stand for nobody questioning my authority.” She squared her shoulders. “When I’m out there, this uniform counts for something. That’s what you told me when you gave me the job, an’ I’m not having a bleedin’ old cow like that tell me what to do!”

“Well, of course you’re right, Maggie.” The thought of his wife finding out about his antics under the stage sent a cold shiver through the manager. “That uniform
does
mean something.”

“So, I can carry on as usual then?” She knew she had him right where she wanted him.

“Absolutely!” He felt his heart sink to his boots. But at least he was thankful that Maggie wouldn’t tell his wife.

“Right then!” Maggie turned to leave with a cheeky smile. “I’d best get on. They’ll be arriving any minute. Sandra’s off sick as well, you know, so that only leaves me and Doreen.”

As she crossed the room, he dared to run after her. “Wait, wait!”

Swinging round, she rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “What now?”

Putting his arms around her waist, he smiled, that smarmy little smile she had come to know so well. “What say you try a little harder to be nice to people?”

“
What
people?”

“You know very well what people! The people who pay good money to come and watch a film; the people who pay your wages and mine … the people who
you
seem to think are nothing but a nuisance. Be nice to them, that’s all I’m asking. See if you can speak to them without shouting … and don’t threaten to throw their kids out on the street for the slightest little thing.” Exasperated, he pleaded, “Just let them watch the film in peace.”

Looking him in the eye, she continued to chew her gum, then she considered what he’d said, and took no notice at all. “Right.” Taking out her chewing gum, she slapped it in his hand, and off she went, leaving him open-mouthed, and wishing he was anywhere but there, with the incorrigible Maggie; until he recalled in the twinkle of an eye what a randy devil she was when roused. With that in mind, he went back to his work with a smile on his face.

Out in the foyer, the woman in the ticket-booth gave Maggie a bit of good advice. “You’d do well to watch your step with that one. He can be a nasty little man.” Lowering her voice, she imparted a bit of gossip she’d heard from Sandra. “I’m told he tries it on with all the girls … aims to get his wicked way with them, that’s what I’ve heard.”

Maggie gave her a wink. “Don’t you worry, gal. If he tries it on with me, he’ll get what’s coming to him!”

“Good girl.” The woman failed to see the double meaning behind Maggie’s naughty words. “I’m glad to see you can look after yourself,” she said.

Maggie laughed. “Oh, I can do that all right,” she said. “I’d like a pound for every man who’s tried it on with me.”
And
got his wicked way, she thought.

Suddenly the outer doors opened and in came a rush of people, all jostling to be first to the ticket-booth. “One at a time, if you please!” The woman never did like being under siege. “You’ll not get served any quicker by pushing and shoving.”

Smiling to herself, Maggie was off. “I’d best go and check inside.”

While the older woman settled herself in the ticket-booth, Maggie went to the cloakroom, where she repainted her lips and brushed her hair. When that was done, she took a look at herself in the long mirror. “It’s no wonder the men fancy you,” she muttered with a wide grin. “You’re such a good-looking gal.”

Another few minutes to straighten her usherette’s hat and tweak at her red uniform, with its smart little jacket and straight skirt. Then, off she went to meet the army that would soon be pouring in for the Saturday matinee. “And don’t forget what he said,” she warned herself. “Be nice to the people.” Though it wasn’t easy when some little horror was being allowed to paint the seats with ice-cream or run about yelling and screaming when other people were trying to watch the film. “Stay calm, gal,” she told herself. “Don’t let the buggers get to you.”

Going through the big double doors, she collected her torch from the cubby-hole and began making her way back to the door. Before opening the doors she looked around her; at the row upon row of red seats; plastic fold-up seats at the back and plush red at the front where they cost three-pence more. Bursting with pride, she thought, “Oh, if only Kathy could see me now.”

She turned her eyes upward to the little circles that jutted out like eyelids, and the long red curtains at the exit doors, and finally at the big, wide screen that sat like a king on its own stage. “One day, I’ll be up there,” she murmured, “when some talent scout spots me and sees what I’m worth.” Sadly, Maggie’s unfulfilled dreams were many and varied. With that she threw open the doors, where already the customers waited to be let in. With as much pleasure as she could muster she led them two by two along the aisle to their seats.

She shone her torch for them to see their way through the dimly lit cinema, seating them and smiling sweetly before making her way back to the doors. “So far so good,” she muttered through gritted teeth.

It was only when a rather large woman arrived with two children that the smile faded; it was the very same woman who had complained to the manager. Now, on seeing Maggie, she warned in a shrill voice, “Don’t you start on me!” Thrusting her two children behind her, she waited for Maggie to retaliate.

When, instead, Maggie smiled at her, the poor woman was flustered and confused. Grabbing the children, she hurried to their seats, where she sat silent, occasionally peeping at Maggie and thinking she must have had a telling-off, or why would she be so nice? Whatever the reason, it was unnerving.

For the first half of the new horror film,
The Ghost Ship
, everything went well. There were a few screams from the front when the young couple began hearing strange noises, but that was only to be expected; even Maggie had a scary moment. It wasn’t long before half the people in the cinema were yelling for the heroes to “Get out of there!”

Otherwise it seemed quiet enough; until a particularly creepy moment caused a young girl to scream in terror. That set off everybody else, and somewhere at the front a child started crying. Then an argument broke out; Maggie, with torch at the ready, set off to investigate.

When she got there, it wasn’t the children causing the trouble. It was a frail old woman and a burly hunk of a man, who by the time she got there were already in the throes of a heated argument. “She attacked me with her stick!” The big man was leaning threateningly over the woman’s seat in front. “I’m not taking that from nobody, least of all a senile old busybody!”

The words were hardly out of his mouth when the woman upped with her stick and cracked him neatly on the head. All hell broke loose.

To her credit, Maggie did manage to calm them down, while from the adjoining rows there were shouts of “Shut up!” and “Sit down!” There was even a call to “Fetch the manager!”

While the big man was willing to forget the aggravation, the elderly woman was not. “I want him thrown out,” she demanded. “He’s been kicking me in the back of my chair. I warned him time and again to sit still, but he wouldn’t. Every time something happened in the film, he kicked me again.” In spite of Maggie’s surprisingly calm attempts, she would not settle. In fact, while Maggie was pleading with the man, the old biddy raised her stick and gave him another sound smack. When he snatched the stick and threw it aside, she calmly reached into her pocket and, taking out a small snuff tin, she opened it up and threw the contents all over him.

The poor man was half blinded, and so were most of the people sitting alongside. The chaos was widespread, with everybody coughing and sneezing, and somewhere near the aisle a fight broke out; stalwart as ever, Maggie tried desperately to separate the warring pair.

Suddenly the film was stopped, and the manager rushed into the fray, the ticket lady and another usherette bringing up the rear. “What the devil’s going on here?” he demanded to know.

Somehow, amidst all the booing and screams of “Get the picture back on!,” they managed to separate the injured and led them up the aisle to the first-aid room.

Right behind them, Maggie marched the offending couple to the door. “I shan’t be coming here again!” The old lady was adamant. “And neither will I!” The man was equally adamant. And, after a stream of abuse, all aimed at Maggie, they went off down the street chatting to each other like two old friends.

Inside, with the film now back on, the people were happily screaming, while Maggie stood at the back, brushing the brown snuff from her lovely uniform, and rubbing her sore eyes.

She almost leapt out of her skin when the manager seemed to creep up behind her. “See me in the office afterward,” he said, before shuffling away. Her heart sank.

When the picture was over and everyone filed out, Maggie closed the door behind them. “I’d best get this lot totted up,” the ticket woman said, and got out her adding machine.

Leaving her there, Maggie made her way to the office, where the manager was pacing up and down. “It’s no good,” he told Maggie as she came through the door, “this is the last straw.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Huh! I’m surprised you need to ask. It was bloody mayhem in there! We had to give fourteen people their money back, and I’ve no doubt that, come tomorrow, the complaints will be pouring in.” He observed her uniform, stained with snuff, and her eyes all red and sore where she’d been rubbing them. “Look at you, woman! You’re a mess …”

Maggie was up in arms. “It wasn’t my fault.”

“Oh no!” He threw up his hands in frustration. “It never is, but somehow when Sandra’s away and you’re up front, the world goes mad! I’m sorry, Maggie, I’ll have to let you go. You seem to forget I don’t own this place. I’m just the manager. I work for a wage the same as the rest of you.” Though he was fearful of her reaction, he would rather
she
got the sack than him. “You stay here while I collect the takings. I’ll have to pay you out of that, and rectify it later. I’ll give you two weeks’ severance, and a fortnight’s holiday pay. That’s more than generous if you ask me.” In fact part of it was a bribe to keep her mouth shut about his indiscretions. He would have to make the difference up out of his own pocket, but that would be a small price to pay for getting rid of her.

By the time he got to the ticket-booth, Edith had already bagged the money. “We’re well short,” she said, handing it over with the ledger. “Having to pay back on fourteen tickets left a big hole in the takings.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll deal with it.” He bade her and the other usherette goodnight. “See you tomorrow, Mr. Ellis,” they chorused. And they went away laughing about the night’s events. “You never can tell
what
might happen in this place when Maggie’s about,” said the usherette as their laughter echoed through the darkened street.

While the manager was gone, Maggie waited. She was fed up: she’d liked the job. “I suppose it’s time I moved on,” she mused. “With a few weeks’ pay, I can go and see Kathy. I might even be able to get a job with her at that holiday site.” Her eyes twinkled. “I might even find myself a proper bloke.”

Just then the telephone rang. Intrigued, Maggie picked it up. “Hello, this is the Rialto. Can I help you?” She liked to answer the telephone; it gave her a feeling of authority.

The caller was the manager’s wife. “Could you please bring my husband to the phone?”

Maggie had an idea. “Oh, Mrs. Ellis, I’m glad you called, I was just looking for your number … y’see, your husband’s not very well. Oh, no, he’s not bad enough to send for an ambulance. He seems to think it’s something he ate. The trouble is, he’s been sick and he feels really queasy. He needs a lift home, and I can’t help. I only wish I could.”

“Get him a taxi.”

“I’ve tried, but I can’t seem to find one. So, do you think you could come and fetch him?”

The voice at the other end shook with anger. “I suppose I’ll have to, won’t I?” And the receiver was slammed down.

A moment later the manager returned. “Now then, let’s get this over with.” Throwing himself into his seat, he reached into the desk and got out his adding machine, which he proceeded to tap, while at the same time telling her, “I don’t have to pay you a month’s wages, but I think we know each other well enough to realize this situation can’t go on.” Bagging her wages, he slid them across the desk and sat back, eyes closed and his hand soothing his brow. “It’s all there. Now get out!”

When she didn’t answer, he glanced up and was rooted to the spot: while he had been tapping away, Maggie had been undoing her jacket. Now she stood before him with her breasts in all their naked glory. “Jesus!” His face went a purple shade of red and the sweat broke out in torrents down his back. “Put your clothes on, woman, before somebody comes in!” His eyeballs swiveled to the door then back to Maggie, and with his mouth open he gaped at her, positively dribbling. “You little vixen.” He tried hard to hold the smile down but, like a certain other part of his body, it popped up, out of control. “Maggie, behave!” In truth, Maggie behaving was the last thing he wanted.