Читать книгу Daughter of Mine - Anne Bennett - Страница 7

The days slid one into another and the girls went out to the pub, theatre, music hall, cinema or dancing, and when Lizzie could stop feeling guilty about leading Steve a dance she enjoyed herself immensely.

When the two girls had first come to England and explained they were cousins, the office staff had tried to work it so their free time co-ordinated. As they had each other, they didn’t need to make deep friendships with the others, though they liked them well enough, and Lizzie knew that if she hadn’t had Steve she’d have been a lot lonelier.

However, she didn’t think that was a good enough reason to go out with someone, but Steve seemed happy with it. What he wasn’t happy with was the way he’d got no further than a kiss on the lips, linking arms as they walked along the street and holding hands in the cinema.

He knew Mike was getting much further with Tressa, because Mike had told him, boasted of it even. Lizzie knew it too, but she wasn’t going down that road with a man she was dating almost as a convenience. So, when Steve asked her to go again to tea, she hesitated. She had no desire to go near the place, but she pleased Steve in so very little and he was incredibly generous buying drinks, dinners and tickets for the threatre or cinema with money he near sweated blood for. ‘Won’t they think…I mean we’re not a committed couple, are we?’

‘Who gives a sod what they think?’

‘Well you must. They are your family and they don’t seem to have taken to me at all. Not that that matters, except that I don’t know why you want me there.’

‘I just do,’ Steve said obstinately. ‘And it would please me if you came. They will behave better this time, I guarantee it. I’ve warned them all.’

Against her better judgement Lizzie went, and she found the atmosphere much as before. This time, in an attempt to stop Flo extolling the virtues of Steve, she tried to get to know his brother Neil. She didn’t like him much, for he’d been surly and barely polite at their first meeting and he hadn’t improved. But, she excused him. Surely such blatant favouritism of the first-born, who already had everything going for him, would affect anyone?

She knew Neil hadn’t gone into the brass industry like his father and brother, but had been taken on as an apprentice in a bespoke tailors’ in the Bull Ring. Steve had told her that and said it was a bone of contention in the family, but after the tea, which had been eaten in almost total silence, Lizzie asked Neil about his job. ‘We can make up a suit, with a waistcoat thrown in, for thirty bob,’ Neil said with a hint of pride. ‘You wouldn’t get me near brass. Makes old men out of young ones. You should see the state of this pair when they gets in of a night.’

‘It’s a living, ain’t it?’ Rodney growled.

‘Some living.’

‘You ungrateful sod!’ Rodney exploded. ‘Many of the barefoot, bare-arsed and starving kids around these doors would have been glad of their fathers working any damned place, and most of the poor buggers out of work that cluster on the street corners would give their right arms to earn half as much as me. You don’t get that kind of money sitting on your arse stitching clothes for toffs.’

‘Yeah,’ Steve put in. ‘Just how much do you put into the house, our kid?’

‘I know I don’t earn much yet,’ Neil said, ‘but when I finish my apprenticeship in two years I’ll be on a good enough wack.’

‘You mind they don’t finish you then,’ Rodney warned. ‘Happens in the factories all the time, and the bloody shipyards.’

‘They won’t.’

‘You’re sure of yourself,’ Steve said. ‘I hope you’re right. Sometimes you haven’t money to bless yourself with, never mind give a woman a good time.’ He put his arm around Lizzie, who was by his side. She didn’t shake him off, she wouldn’t shame him that way before his family, but she did wish she’d never started the conversation that had developed into these heated words. In fact, if she was totally honest, she wished she’d never set eyes on Steve Gillespie and his dysfunctional family at all.

‘Give a woman a good time,’ Neil said sarcastically. ‘I know what manner of good time you like to give a woman. Maybe some of us are more choosy and like to keep it in their trousers more.’

Flo clouted Neil on the side of the head. ‘Less of that dirty talk.’

Neil looked across the room where Lizzie stood, her face crimson. ‘Dirty talk, Mom, dirty talk!’ he cried scornfully. ‘Why don’t you complain about the dirty deeds your sainted son gets up to.’

‘Shut your mouth!’ Lizzie felt the anger flooding through Steve, so even the arm he had around her shoulders trembled slightly and she saw the whitening of his fisted knuckles.

Neil ignored his brother and, addressing himself to Lizzie, said, ‘See, our Steve here likes variety, goes down the streets like a dose of salts, sampling them all.’

‘I said, shut your gob, or by Christ I’ll shut it for you.’

Lizzie put a hand on Steve’s arm and said gently, ‘It doesn’t matter.’ But Steve could tell by Neil’s sly eyes what he was going to say next unless he put a stop to it. He and Mike both had very high sex drives and when between girlfriends, or going out with girls that gave them little sexual satisfaction, or perhaps just for a change, they often frequented places where they could pick up a woman of the night. They never considered it a problem and it meant they didn’t have to force the girls they were dating to go further than they wanted to.

Often, after Steve left Lizzie he’d be so worked up that he’d be forced to seek solace elsewhere. How had Neil found that out? Steve did not know, but he saw Neil knew all right: he could see it in the little shit’s eyes. He also knew that if Lizzie was made aware of it, he’d never get near her again.

Neil smiled at his brother. It was good seeing him squirm for a change. ‘Lizzie has a right to know what she’s taking on,’ he said. ‘Does she know, for example, that some of the women…’

Steve had dropped his arm from Lizzie’s shoulder and was across the room in an instant. He almost lifted Neil from the floor with his left arm, while his right fist powered into Neil’s face.

Lizzie watched, horrified. No one seemed surprised or went to the aid of the boy, who slid down the wall as Steve released him. Neil’s mouth and nose spurted blood and Lizzie noticed that one of his teeth had been knocked clean out.

Flo, with a sigh, crossed to the fire and filled a bowl from the kettle to the side of it, got a clean rag from the line above the hearth and carried it over to Neil. ‘You asked for that,’ she said as she handed it to him. ‘Why couldn’t you stay quiet when you had the chance?’

‘Why should I?’ Neil’s words were slurred because of his thick lips but his eyes still held contempt. ‘Just because big brother says so?’

‘If you want more of the same, I’m willing to oblige,’ Steve growled out. ‘Only this time I’ll not stop at one punch, you little shit. I’ll beat you to pulp.’

Lizzie crossed to Steve. ‘Please, don’t fight any more.’

She was totally shocked. The angry, hate-filled words had been bad enough, but fighting! And yet the family took it almost as a matter of course, so much so that Rodney hadn’t even raised his head from where he sat, staring into the fire.

Steve looked at Lizzie and regretted she’d seen any of this. ‘Get your coat,’ he snapped.

‘What?’

‘Are you deaf? Get your coat!’

Lizzie hurried to obey him. She knew it wasn’t her that Steve was so cross with, but she was still unnerved by the angry, curt way he had spoken.

They walked side by side in silence, Lizzie knowing anything she said would be wrong. She didn’t care about Steve’s past, she didn’t really care about his future either, because she wasn’t going to figure in it. This had decided her. She’d dallied long enough and really had made a monkey of the man, and the sooner she came clean the better. Neil’s phrase—‘what she’s taking on,’—had filled her with dread. Someone else would have to fill that role; it would certainly not be her.

She kissed Steve when he left her at the hotel, but on the cheek only, and turned without even a hug and opened the door to the stairs.

Christ Almighty! Steve thought. He knew the rage, still burning within him, needed some outlet. Sex would fit the bill nicely and he turned to make for one of his familiar haunts, where he knew one or two of the women liked him to be a bit rough.

Lizzie waited for Tressa to come in that night, not a thing she did now as a rule, but she needed to talk to her about Steve. They both had the whole evening off and so, after tea with the family, Mike had probably taken Tressa out somewhere. Steve might have done the same if that distressing scene at the house hadn’t happened. It seemed to have upset Steve totally, and whether he’d forgotten Lizzie had the evening off or whether he’d wanted to be by himself, she didn’t know nor care. In the few hours she’d been with the family, she had had enough of them all; enough to last a lifetime. How could one simple question start such a barrage? She was glad to reach the peace and quiet of her room, for her nerves were still jangling, and she lay down on her bed fully clothed and thought about it.

She was woken by Betty and Pat, who’d been on duty, coming in and complaining about their feet. They’d turned the light on before they noticed Lizzie.

‘Sorry!’

‘That’s all right,’ Lizzie said. ‘I must have dropped off.’

‘You’re back early.’

‘Aye, let’s say it wasn’t a total success.’

‘Oh!’

‘Aye, Steve had a row with his brother, which turned into a fight.’

‘That’s men all over,’ Betty said. ‘Solve everything with their bloody fists.’

‘Well, I was glad to leave anyway,’ Lizzie said. ‘It’s not my idea of a pleasant Sunday afternoon. I’ll wait for Tressa and see what she makes of it.’

‘You won’t see your cousin for some time yet,’ Pat said.

‘How late is it usually then?’ Lizzie said. ‘I never hear her come in.’

‘I know you don’t hear her,’ Betty told her. ‘You must be a deep sleeper. It’s always the early hours when she arrives home. She’s woken me a few times. She has an arrangement with the night porter to let her in when she knocks in a certain way.’

‘The early hours!’ Lizzie repeated. ‘What does she do till the early hours?’

The two girls giggled. ‘Don’t you know about the birds and the bees?’ Pat said with a smirk. ‘I’d have a good guess at what she’s up to, her and that feller she has. Lead you on, blokes do. You’ve got to keep your wits about you. I tell you, Lizzie, it would be good to warn her, like. A girl needs to watch herself.’

‘Yeah, and she’s in a state sometimes,’ Betty put in.

‘A state?’

‘Yeah, drunk, like, or very near it, anyroad.’

‘I had no idea, though I know she’s hard to rouse sometimes, but then she has never been easy to get up.’

‘Thought you hadn’t guessed,’ Betty said. ‘Glad to have told you. You’re the only one to have a word. She’d not listen to us.’

‘She’ll probably not listen to me where Mike’s concerned.’

‘Well, at least you’ll have tried,’ Betty said. ‘Sorry, I won’t be able to keep you company if you’re set on sitting up for her, I’m jiggered.’

‘Me too,’ Pat agreed. ‘And me feet are burning.’

‘I don’t need company,’ Lizzie said. ‘You get to bed, you’ve been at it all day.’

She lay quiet until the girls’ even breathing told her they were asleep and then she got softly out of bed. The clock at St Phillip’s Cathedral tower, opposite the hotel, said nearly eleven o’clock, and she decided to get herself ready for bed and then if she did drop off in the wait it didn’t matter.

Before half-eleven she’d finished her ablutions and was undressed, her Sunday clothes put back in the wardrobe and her uniform for work in the morning hanging on the picture rail. She was in her nightdress and tucked up in bed, with just the lights on her side of the room lit, and was reading a book she’d bought from a stall in the market.

Twice she got up to go to the toilet and looked at the clock, and twice she dropped to sleep, the book still in her hands, and was jerked awake. By half past one she decided Tressa could go hang herself for all she cared, she was too tired to wait any more and both of them were on earlies the following day. She put the book down, padded across the floor to put out the light, and climbed into bed, pulling the covers over her.

The light flooding the room pulled her back from the edge of a wonderful dream and she opened her eyes wearily, blinking in the sudden brightness to see her cousin standing there. Her face was aglow, as if a light had been lit behind it, and there was an inane grin on her face. Betty’s words came back to her.

‘You’re drunk,’ she said.

Tressa giggled. ‘Maybe,’ she replied. ‘We were celebrating.’

The blood in Lizzie’s veins suddenly felt like ice. ‘Celebrating what?’

‘Getting engaged!’

‘Getting engaged!’ Lizzie repeated, relieved it wasn’t something worse.

‘No ring yet,’ Tressa said. ‘I mean, Mike asked me to marry him tonight, and I said “yes” of course, and then he said he must ask Mammy and Daddy and do the thing properly, but that won’t be a problem. I’ve told them about Mike every week and how wonderful he is.’

‘You’re so young to be engaged.’

‘No I’m not,’ Tressa protested. ‘I’ll be twenty in July. We’re not getting married yet awhile. We have to save quite a bit first, Mike said. But an engagement is a commitment.’

‘I’ll say,’ Lizzie agreed. She got out of bed and crossed to the window. ‘It’s turned two o’clock.’

‘Who cares,’ Tressa laughed, turning a pirouette in the room. ‘Mike bought a bottle of champagne.’

‘Put a sock in it, why don’t you,’ Pat’s weary voice said from the other side of the room, and Tressa, her face still wreathed in smiles, put her finger to her lips in the exaggerated manner of a drunk. ‘Ssh.’

‘Tressa, get to bed, we’ve work in the morning,’ Lizzie advised.

Tressa tossed her head and went on, but in a whisper, ‘I care nothing about tomorrow. It’s another day. What I care about is Mike, I love him so much I ache. I want to be near him all day and lie curled around him every night.’

‘Tressa!’ Lizzie said in dread. ‘Tressa, you haven’t…?’

‘No, I haven’t,’ hissed Tressa. ‘But it’s hard, bloody hard. I won’t feel as scared when I have the ring on my finger.’

‘It’s not a wedding ring, Tressa,’ Lizzie reminded her.

‘I know that. The wedding ring will follow.’

‘Please, Tressa, be careful.’

‘Careful!’ Tressa said scornfully. ‘That’s for old bones, careful. I’m so happy I could die, and you tell me to be careful.’

There was no use talking to her. She was drunk on love and champagne and that wasn’t a combination that would produce any sort of sense. ‘Well, stay happy, Tressa,’ Lizzie said, ‘and if it’s what you want I’ll be happy for you, but for now I’m too tired to feel anything much. You stay awake all night if you like, but I must sleep.’

‘I’m too buoyed-up to even close my eyes.’

‘Then don’t,’ Lizzie said softly. ‘But stay awake quietly, will you?’

Tressa didn’t answer. She was too busy pirouetting at the end of her bed, her arms outstretched, and Lizzie gave a groan and hid her head under the covers.

Later, she heard Tressa bumbling away, bumping into the bed, and once after she’d put the light out she thought she heard her fall onto the floor. She didn’t look and Tressa giggled again so Lizzie knew she wasn’t hurt. God, I wouldn’t have her head in the morning for all the tea in China, she thought, and remembered how she’d felt the day after that fated Christmas dance. For all the urging of Mike and Steve and even Tressa, she’d never got in that state again, nor anywhere near it. She had the feeling she had to keep a grip on herself and stay level-headed with Steve, but Tressa obviously didn’t feel the same. However, that wasn’t her concern. She wasn’t her cousin’s keeper, and that was Lizzie’s last thought before sleep overtook her.

‘Tressa, wake up!’ Lizzie hissed urgently.

‘Leave me alone.’

‘I can’t. Come on, you’ll be late and you won’t half catch it.’

‘I’m ill. Tell them I’m ill.’

‘I’ll do no such thing. Anyway, they’d not believe it, and if the night porter tells them the time you came in and the state of you, you might get your marching orders. Come on, you’re hung over and I bet it’s not the first time either.’

‘Shut up!’ Tressa said, pulling the cover tighter around her. Lizzie had a measure of sympathy for her, for she knew how Tressa would be feeling. But Tressa had shown little feeling for her, Lizzie remembered, and she’d got that way by accident whereas Tressa had known what she was doing. But Lizzie also knew the state Birmingham was in with regard to jobs, and if Tressa lost this job she’d have a long wait for another, especially if the manager refused to give her a reference.

Lizzie couldn’t allow that to happen and so, grasping the covers with both hands, she yanked them clean off the bed. Tressa gave a shriek and the other two girls, who’d been fast asleep, jerked awake. ‘If you don’t belt up, Tressa,’ Betty said fiercely as she sat up in the bed, ‘I’ll come over there and knock your bleeding block off. It’s not on, this. You come home in the early hours as drunk as a Lord and wake us up, and then again in the morning. What’s your problem, anyroad?’

‘I’m ill.’

‘Ill my Aunt Fanny! Get up and go to work and give us all a bit of peace, or I’ll throw a basin of water over you.’

Lizzie could see Betty meant what she said and she honestly couldn’t blame her. Tressa knew it too and, whimpering, she got to her knees and gingerly put her feet to the floor, pulling herself up by the bedpost. ‘God, I feel awful! I won’t be able to stand the sight of all those greasy breakfasts, I feel sick already.’

Lizzie had had enough. ‘Get yourself to the bathroom,’ she commanded. ‘Clean your teeth, wash your face and get your uniform on. We’re running late already.’

‘You don’t understand. My head’s pounding.’

‘Then take an aspirin,’ Lizzie said unfeelingly. ‘I’m away. I’m not putting my job on the line for you.’

‘Lizzie!’

‘No, Tressa. Sort yourself out. You didn’t give a monkey’s yesterday and I don’t today, so I’ll see you later.’

Tressa couldn’t believe Lizzie had gone. She’d never done that before. When she’d been a bit groggy and hung over in the past, though she’d never felt this bad, Lizzie had done the lion’s share of the work and always covered for her. ‘Thank God. The worm’s turned at last,’ came Betty’s voice from the bed.

It angered Tressa. Who the hell did Betty think she was? She didn’t know how it was between her and Lizzie. Tressa was unable to say this, however, for when she opened her mouth she was assailed by nausea and had to hurry, as much as she was able, to the bathroom.

She was late reporting in the kitchen and got told off for that and for the state of her hair, which she’d been too clumsy to manage. Her face was pasty white and there were blue smudges under her eyes. The head waiter knew what was up with Tressa and he had little patience with her. ‘You can’t go into the dining room with hair like that,’ he snapped. ‘And kindly remember lateness and this slapdash manner won’t be tolerated here. Lizzie, can you help your cousin, for her hair looks as if it has been pulled through a hedge backwards.’

‘Don’t say I told you so,’ Tressa pleaded when the two girls were in the staff cloakroom.

‘I had no intention of it,’ Lizzie said, pulling off Tressa’s cap and attacking the tousled locks with the brush that she kept in her handbag in her locker. ‘I could say you’re a bloody fool, but you probably know that and it would serve no purpose. Just keep your head down and do nothing else to annoy the waiter, because he’ll be watching you like a hawk and he’s the power here. If he complains to the manager, you’ll be out.’

Tressa knew it, and despite feeling like death she tried, but for all that the head waiter shouted at her and berated her for every little thing and she was glad when her shift was over and she could reach the relative safety of her room. Betty and Pat were out and Tressa was glad of it as she sat on the bed and dissolved into tears. ‘I hate him.’

‘Come on, Tressa, he’s not the worst,’ Lizzie said. ‘You annoyed him and he made you pay, that’s all.’

‘That’s all! You weren’t on the receiving end of it.’

‘Well it’s over now,’ Lizzie said soothingly. ‘He’ll have forgotten by this evening, and if I were you I would get some sleep, you’ll feel heaps better if you do.’

‘I don’t know that I could,’ Tressa said. ‘My stomach’s churning like one of those washing machines in the laundry.’

‘How much did you drink, for God’s sake?’

‘Lots,’ Tressa admitted. ‘We went to a party after we’d been to Mike’s house, some friend of Mike who has rooms off the Belgrave Road. Steve knows him too. We expected the two of you to turn up.’

Lizzie made a face. ‘Something else turned up for us.’

‘Oh, what?’

‘Tell you later. Go on.’

‘Well, unbeknownst to me, Mike slipped out before closing time and bought this big bottle of champagne and then, as the party was beginning to fold up, Mike took me into the hall of this place and asked me to marry him.

‘I was ecstatic and already tipsily drunk, but after I said yes and we kissed and all, he produced the champagne and we drank it between us.’

‘Oh Tressa.’

‘I know,’ Tressa said. ‘It was bloody stupid, but it seemed like a good idea last night.’

‘I bet,’ Lizzie said with a grin. ‘Never mind, you’ve survived the morning—just. Nothing will be as bad as that.’

‘No,’ Tressa said with feeling. ‘Now you. What went wrong with you and Steve?’

And Lizzie told her. ‘I can’t go on with this charade, Tressa, really I can’t. It isn’t fair. It’s nothing to do with Steve’s family, but God knows they’re bad enough; it’s Steve himself, and before you say it there’s nothing wrong with him either. He’s a fine man, handsome, generous, good company and he has a good, steady job. He could make some girl a first-rate husband, but that girl is not going to be me. I’m wrong to keep him hanging on, hoping.’

Tressa knew that this time Lizzie was serious. She’d hoped Lizzie would fall for Steve and she knew Mike did too, but she saw now that what they hoped for wasn’t going to happen. ‘Could you wait until we’re properly engaged?’

‘Oh I don’t know, Tressa.’

‘Please.’

‘It could be ages.’

‘No, it won’t,’ Tressa said, and added, ‘Look, Lizzie, Mike has planned a big night for our next Saturday off, because it’s the day before Valentine’s Day. We’re meeting you two for a few drinks early and then Mike’s taking me to the theatre to see Gracie Fields and afterwards we’re going to dinner. Once the ring is on my finger you can say what you like to Steve.’

‘I don’t see what difference having the ring will make. You’re committed anyway.’

‘Just do this one thing for me,’ Tressa said. ‘Steve is going to be upset when you tell him—and I know that’s not your fault, I’m not blaming you. But, what if Mike decides to postpone the engagement to comfort his mate and try and get him to forget and all that, and you know he could do just that.’

Lizzie knew he could. ‘Somehow, I don’t think he’ll feel the same if his ring is on my finger,’ Tressa went on. ‘He’s made his choice publicly then and that choice is me. Please, Lizzie, don’t mess it up for me. If I don’t have Mike, I will die. I might as well, for never as long as I live will I love someone as I do him. It’s less than a fortnight I’m asking for.’

Lizzie looked at her cousin and knew if she was to do anything to jeopardise this romance Tressa would never forgive her, and she’d not forgive herself for Tressa’s heart would be broken. ‘What if you don’t hear from Ireland before then?’

‘We’re going ahead anyway. With or without their permission or blessing, we are getting engaged on the thirteenth of February, come hell or high water.’

Steve knew all about the engagement plans and he was filled with envy.

‘Amazing, the powers of a ring,’ Mike said to Steve one night as they returned from a date with the girls.

‘Have you gone all the way yet?’ Steve asked.

‘Nearly, but not quite,’ Mike said. ‘The ring will clinch it. I’ll give Tressa a good time, and bingo! Christ, I can hardly wait.’

Steve was silent, trying to cope with the frustration eating at him, and Mike said, ‘Aren’t you thinking that way yourself—engagement, I mean?’

‘Lizzie’s not ready yet,’ Steve answered shortly. Mike had no idea how little he and Lizzie did together and Steve had no intention of telling him. Tressa had said nothing either, because until she was securely engaged it was in her interest to pretend things between Steve and Lizzie were hunky-dory.

‘Maybe when she sees the ring she’ll change her mind,’ Mike commented. ‘You know how women are about rings.’

God! Steve thought, it would need more than a ring to alter Lizzie, for she was worse if anything. And she was worse, because for all her promise to Tressa to say nothing to Steve until the fateful engagement day, she felt as if she was leading him on by still going out with him. She tried not to let this affect her, but of course it did, and that evening, Steve, remembering how unsatisfactory things had been of late, said to Mike, ‘I’m not going home yet, Mike. Be seeing you.’

Mike knew where Steve was heading. In his pre-Tressa days he’d have probably been alongside him, but now he said, ‘Why d’you have to go to those places when you have a lovely girl you’ve just spent the evening with?’

‘Mind your own business, Mike,’ Steve spat out angrily. ‘I don’t have to answer to you.’

‘I was just saying.’

‘Well stop just saying,’ Steve said, ‘because I’ve stopped listening.’

Mike shrugged as Steve turned away from the streets and headed back to one of his favoured haunts in Varna Road.

The good news approving the engagement came after a week. Tressa read it out:

It is obvious you are smitten with each other and as this Mike Malone gives a good account of himself, you have our blessing so far. However, you are young and there is to be no marriage until we have met your intended. We suggest you come home in the summer and introduce us.

‘Isn’t Mammy a pet,’ Tressa said, spinning around in delight.

‘It seems all fine for you, right enough,’ Lizzie said, but she was a little saddened for she knew she would be quite lonely when she told Steve she didn’t want to see him any more, but despite this she would wait no longer than the thirteenth. She owed him that much.

That day, the girls were on duty until three o’clock and Tressa got dinner and sweet orders mixed up, laid tables the wrong way round, forgot the cruets and sauces and dropped so many things in the kitchen that the chef yelled at her. She didn’t seem to care; excitement had taken hold of her and her nerves were jumping about inside her body as she watched the clock anxiously, willing the time to be gone so she could go out to meet her man.

‘We just have three hours,’ she told Lizzie in their room. ‘Do you want the bath first?’

‘Why just three hours. Surely we’re not meeting them at six?’

‘Aye. The theatre performance is at seven thirty.’

‘Even so.’

‘They’re going to be in town anyway,’ Tressa explained. ‘They’re buying the ring today.’

‘Didn’t you want to choose it?’

‘No,’ Tressa said. ‘I wouldn’t know how much Mike would have to spend. I told him to surprise me.’

It had surprised Steve, for he’d seen Mike part with the best part of three weeks’ wages to buy the diamond cluster he’d set his heart on.

‘Some price, man,’ he said as they left the shop.

‘Tressa’s worth it,’ Mike said. ‘Think of it, Steve. This is my passport to freedom.’

‘Yeah,’ Steve remarked gloomily. ‘Let’s go and sink a few pints.’

‘You’re on,’ Mike replied.

That evening there was a spring-like feel to the air. There was even a little warmth in the setting sun and across the road, around St Phillip’s courtyard, Lizzie glimpsed the heads of snowdrops and crocuses peeping through the soil as the girls scurried along the road, for they were meeting the men at the Old Joint Stock.

Judging by the glasses on the tables, Mike and Steve were finishing their third pints when the two girls went into the pub. Lizzie’s heart sank, for when Steve was drunk he was unpredictable and could sometimes be difficult to handle. But she could hardly tell Steve what to do, and more drinks were ordered as soon as they spotted the two girls and no one listened at all when Lizzie said she’d have an orange. This was Tressa and Mike’s moment and she decided she’d not spoil it by making a fuss.

Tressa was rendered speechless by the ring and Lizzie let her breath out in a sigh. ‘Oh, Tressa, it’s gorgeous,’ and it was gorgeous, for the large diamond in the centre was surrounded by smaller diamonds that shone and sparkled in the lights of the pub.

‘Do you like it?’ Mike asked, made self-conscious by Tressa’s silence.

‘Like it? Oh, Mike, I haven’t words…Oh, thank you. I never dreamed you’d buy me something so exquisite.’

‘Nothing in the world is too good for you,’ Mike said, and he leant across the table and the two kissed.

‘Ain’t love grand,’ Steve said sarcastically and then added quietly, ‘You only have to say the word, Lizzie, and I’ll buy you a diamond twice the size of that.’

Lizzie’s heart skipped a beat at the hopeful look in Steve’s eyes, and so though she shook her head she smiled as she did, and leant across and squeezed his hand as he turned to Mike and said, ‘I’ll not congratulate, but commiserate. Another good man down. There’s few of us bachelors left, you know.’

He was putting on a good act for his friend, Lizzie thought. Making the best of it. I wish I could make his day now, by agreeing to be his girl, but I’d be fooling myself and not being fair to him.

Some of the hotel staff used the pub and insisted on buying rounds of drinks when they heard the news of Tressa’s engagement, but Lizzie insisted on drinking only orange. She felt she needed her wits about her for what she must say to Steve, and neither her nor Tressa had eaten since about eleven o’clock. They’d hoped to grab a bite after the lunchtime rush, but hadn’t had time, and she was feeling decidedly peckish.

Eventually, Mike and Tressa got up to go and Lizzie noticed Tressa was none too steady. Not to worry, she thought, we’re not on duty till three tomorrow.

‘What d’you want to do?’ Steve asked, for he knew Lizzie didn’t like staying in the pub all evening.

Lizzie ran her tongue over her lips, which had become unaccountably dry, and said, ‘I need to talk to you, Steve.’

He was unaware of the undercurrent, totally unprepared. ‘Talk away, then. Shall I get us another drink in?’

‘No,’ Lizzie said, grasping his arm. She looked around the noisy pub, with a good number of the hotel staff already there, and knew it wasn’t the place to tell anyone anything important. ‘Not here. Can we walk? It’s a fine evening and quite warm.’

‘It that’s what you want.’

Once in the street, Steve pulled Lizzie close, and as she didn’t protest his heart beat faster. Women were a funny breed. Maybe Mike was right. Maybe an engagement ring on the finger of one woman was a powerful inducement for another. Was that what Lizzie was going to tell him tonight?

He had always had remarkable success with women. In that, Neil had spoken the truth, and Steve had often had trouble shaking them off in the past, though until he’d met Lizzie he’d never been properly in love. However, he was assured of his attractiveness to the opposite sex, and when he’d claimed Lizzie would love him too after a few weeks he’d truly believed she’d be unable to hold out against his charms indefinitely.

‘Come on, darling girl,’ he said. ‘The night is young and you can talk till your heart is content.’