Читать книгу Snow on the Cobbles - Maggie Sullivan, Maggie Sullivan - Страница 8

Spring 1945

Although they didn’t know it at the time, by the end of March the residents of Weatherfield had seen the last of the V1 and V2 rockets that had done so much damage to people and property in England. The attacks had been random. A whining whistle followed by a short-lived silence then the shattering devastation of the giant bomb. It was never possible to predict when and where it would land, so that they became afraid to trust the silence. Now how could they believe they really had heard the last warning screeches of the air-raid sirens and the reassuring signals for the all clear? But by the middle of April, when no new explosions had been heard for several weeks, everyone began to hope that it was true, that they had seen the last of the flying bombs.

As spring officially arrived and the hours of daylight lengthened, so the mood of the residents of Weatherfield lifted and the weariness that had bogged them down for months was replaced by an atmosphere of cautious optimism. The news on the street was that the Germans were in retreat and the Nazis were floundering as the allies advanced, although it still took some time for the people of Weatherfield to believe that the war was actually about to end as the peace treaty had not yet been signed. But it was widely accepted that an official announcement would soon be forthcoming and there was a feeling of restlessness and suppressed excitement in the air as preparations began for the celebration of victory and there was much talk of street parties and the forthcoming bank holiday.

Annie Walker, spurred on by her husband’s letters to think that he might be returning home soon, began to think about organizing a street party to celebrate VE day – Victory in Europe. It would be a local party where the Rovers Return would feature prominently. She had been disturbed by the successful appearance of the refurbished Pride of Weatherfield so close to her own doorstep and had been thinking about what she should do in order to hold on to her customers. After several sleepless nights she discussed her ideas with her trusted barmaid Gracie.

‘If we were able to organize the biggest and best street party ever seen in Weatherfield,’ Annie said, ‘it might encourage some of the locals who’ve been deserting us of late to come back to drink here again. We need to put the Rovers Return back once more at the heart of the community, where it belongs. What do you think, Gracie?’

‘I think that sounds like an excellent idea,’ Gracie said. ‘And it would give you an excuse to go over to the Pride to tell them what we’re planning and to find out what they’re up to at the same time.’

Annie looked thoughtful, her brow furrowed as she absorbed Gracie’s suggestion.

‘Perhaps you could get some of our old regulars together into some kind of organizing committee,’ Gracie said. ‘That would make people feel more committed.’

Annie suddenly looked determined. ‘You’re right. The Pride might be enticing some of our customers away on a Saturday night with their second-rate cabaret acts, but I’m blowed if I’m going to let them seduce all our clientele permanently, like the Pied Piper. We can’t have Jack coming home to find an empty pub, thinking we’ve no customers left, now can we?’ She gave a sardonic laugh, though she knew it was really no laughing matter, not when she’d spent most of the war years working hard to prove how well she had learned to balance the job of running the pub single-handed, alongside her busy role as the mother of two young children.

Gracie’s eyes lit up. ‘We could put up notices about the party in the bar and ask people to put them in their windows.’ Annie laughed at her enthusiasm. ‘That’s the spirit – though of course the war hasn’t officially ended yet.’

‘No, but surely it soon will?’ Gracie sounded anxious.

For a moment Annie had a dreamy smile on her face. ‘Of course it will. And all the soldiers will come flooding home,’ she said, ‘eager to start their new life.’

‘I know I for one can’t wait to make a fresh start,’ Gracie said with a sigh. ‘It seems ages since Chuck and all the other GIs left for Europe. I can’t wait to get off to America. As soon as Chuck sends for me, when he’s posted back home I’ll be off like a shot, believe you me.’

Annie had a wistful look as she glanced over to the barmaid she had come to love and trust. ‘I know, my dear, though I so hate the thought of losing you, but all the more reason why we need to make this work. It will be doubling as a farewell party.’

‘Will you be looking to find my replacement before I go,’ Gracie asked, ‘so that I’ll have time to show the new girl the ropes? She could help us to organize the party too.’

‘Actually my dear, I already have somebody in mind.’ Annie’s lips were taut but she forced them into a smile. ‘Or should I say, Jack has. He’s recommended I hire someone who has been serving with him who will apparently be coming home soon. He would be more of a bar manager.’ She paused. ‘It seems I am awaiting his call.’

‘Well, that’s a relief. I won’t be leaving you in the lurch when Chuck sends for me,’ Gracie said. ‘And if Jack likes him then I’m sure he’ll be fine.’

Annie nodded. ‘An extra pair of hands is always helpful.’ She smiled and patted Gracie’s hand. ‘Though it won’t be easy for someone to fill your shoes, you know.’

The next morning Hilda was putting the finishing touches to the freshly whitened front step at the Pride when a smart-looking lady, all dressed up in her Sunday best, stopped by the front entrance. Hilda suddenly felt flustered, unsure about speaking to her, but she didn’t have to worry because Annie Walker spoke to her, asking in clipped tones, ‘Is Mr Bennett available? Could you tell him Mrs Walker from the Rovers Return would like a word with him?’

‘Yes, of course,’ was all Hilda could manage and, abandoning her cleaning equipment, she rushed inside to look for Bob.

‘Mrs Walker!’ Bob’s voice boomed out as he stood by the door, arms akimbo. ‘We meet at last. I’ve heard a lot about you. To what do I owe the honour?’

‘I’ve come to welcome you to Weatherfield,’ Annie said with a tight smile.

Bob gave a sardonic laugh. ‘Well, isn’t that nice and neighbourly? Maybe you’d better come in and sit down.’ He indicated a table in the public bar. ‘Mrs Ogden, ask Lizzie if she can rustle up tea for two,’ he said when they were both seated. He didn’t look in Hilda’s direction, for he was still eyeing Annie up and down. Hilda wasn’t sure whether she should drop a curtsey like she’d seen maids do in the films, so she nodded her head before rushing off to the kitchen where Lizzie was preparing for the dinnertime opening. Hilda watched as Lizzie filled a small teapot from the permanently simmering cauldron then quickly piled a jug of milk and a bowl of sugar cubes onto a tray. Hilda was astonished when Lizzie added a few biscuits on a plate. ‘Bob always insists on having some of these mid-morning,’ Lizzie said, ‘so why shouldn’t Mrs Walker have some as well?’

The two giggled and Hilda went off to serve the tray. Lizzie slipped into the bar and began busily wiping glasses behind the counter but she was careful to stand in a spot where she knew she couldn’t be seen and she beckoned Hilda to join her.

When Hilda had left the tray, Bob leaned back and flung one arm carelessly across the back of the banquette where he was sitting opposite Annie. ‘Now then,’ he said, ‘what do you really want?’ His eyes narrowed and his tone was far from pleasant, but Annie chose to ignore it.

‘I told you,’ she said. ‘It’s a social call. I hope you’re settling in well and managing to find enough customers.’

‘Poof,’ he said with a chuckle. ‘That’s not a problem! Trade couldn’t be better.’ Bob beamed. ‘But surely you haven’t come here to ask me that?’

‘I presume you’ve reconnected with the old Tripe Dresser’s clientele,’ Annie continued in her most condescending tone as if he hadn’t spoken. ‘I always think it’s good to have a core of loyal customers.’

‘We’ve had a packed house every night. So much so I’ve been wondering whether there’s going to be enough room for both of us in this neighbourhood.’ He frowned suddenly and leaned forward, his hand to his mouth. ‘Oh my goodness, is that what you’ve come to tell me? The competition’s getting to you already?’

Annie stared at him scornfully while Bob merely spread his hands. ‘Well, you know what they say. All’s fair in love and war.’ Annie bristled at that, though her smile didn’t waver but Bob cut in before she could respond. ‘How soon after peace is declared are you expecting your husband back?’ he said. ‘It must be so difficult juggling everything on your own.’

‘No doubt he’ll be home as soon as his services to his country are no longer required,’ Annie said, her jaw stiff. ‘But at the moment, as you must know, they still have unfinished business to see to out there and I’m sure you will understand that they can’t shirk their duties, even when the war is finally over. Not that any of them would want to.’ She gave a little laugh. ‘But then, I take it you weren’t actually called up into the fighting forces, were you? So maybe you aren’t aware of how these things work.’

At that Bob stopped smiling, but Annie continued speaking. ‘As I said, this is a courtesy call. I thought I would inform you of our intentions regarding VE day when it finally arrives.’

‘Oh, that,’ Bob said, with a disparaging wave of his hand. ‘I’m doing my own thing, here.’ Annie nevertheless went on to explain about the street party.

‘Well, I have no such laudable intentions,’ Bob said with a grin. ‘So if the street wants a party, feel free to organize one.’

They glared at each other for a moment. ‘However …’ An unctuous smile spread across Bob’s face. ‘I might be able to do you a favour.’

‘Oh?’ Annie said.

‘I could supply you with most of the food at a price you won’t be able to get anywhere else.’

Annie stiffened, not sure what to make of the generous-sounding offer, not sure if she could trust him. She was aware that he had not taken his steely grey eyes off her face though she was unable to read his expression.

‘I can assure you,’ Bob said, ‘you won’t get a better deal anywhere in the county.’

Annie thought for a moment. ‘I’ll inform the organizing committee as they’ll be responsible for the food,’ she said. ‘I’ll tell them to contact you, but I doubt they’ll need any of your help, they’re a well-oiled machine.’ In her mind, Annie tried to square this statement with the thought of Elsie lounging around the bar at the Rovers with a fag in her mouth.

‘Then I shall look forward to doing business with the esteemed ladies of Coronation Street,’ Bob said. ‘And perhaps, while we’re talking business, I could offer the services of some of my working colleagues who specialize in security?’

‘Security?’ Annie was puzzled.

Bob shrugged. ‘You never know when security guards might be needed these days, particularly when there’s going to be large crowds and alcohol flowing – a heady mix.’

Annie’s brows shot up. ‘I don’t know where you lived before, Mr Bennett,’ she said, her voice dripping with scorn, ‘but may I remind you that this is Coronation Street we’re talking about, and I certainly don’t anticipate the need for security guards at a Weatherfield street party.’

‘Suit yourself,’ Bob said. ‘That will free them up to cover the special cabaret night we’re planning for VE night, when we’ll no doubt have another full house.’ Bob had so far ignored the tea and now he leaned across the table and helped himself to a digestive biscuit from the plate. ‘So, if that’s everything, then you’ll have to excuse me as I have some rather pressing business to attend to.’ He stood up. ‘No doubt our paths will cross again.’

Annie still felt cross about Bob Bennett’s brusqueness as she sketched an outline of her visit to the Pride later that evening when she was alone with Gracie but she was determined to waste no time in putting together a list of regulars they might approach to become part of the organizing committee for the eventual VE street party.

‘Security guards, indeed!’ Annie snapped. ‘Where does he think he’s living?’

‘All we have to do is involve Mrs Sharples and there’ll be no need for any kind of security guards!’ Gracie laughed and even Annie allowed a smile to play on her lips.

‘Just as well, for I don’t see how we could have a Coronation Street committee that didn’t involve Ena Sharples, do you?’ she said.

Gracie laughed again. ‘Fat chance. And she’ll no doubt want to include Minnie Caldwell and Martha Longhurst as well.’

‘So, what about adding Ida Barlow?’ Annie suggested. ‘Not much gets past her and I think she’d be very conscientious.’

‘And then there’s Elsie Foyle from the corner shop. She should know about the catering side of things if anybody does,’ Gracie said. ‘Though I imagine that once the war is officially over, food will become more readily available.’

‘I wouldn’t bank on it,’ Annie said. ‘They’ve been talking about the possibility of lots more things becoming scarce in the coming months, even after the war ends.’

‘Then all the more reason to have Mrs Foyle. Hopefully, she’ll have better access than most to whatever supplies are available.’ Gracie laughed. ‘And whether or not she decides to take up Bob Bennett’s offer will be up to her.’ She gave a mischievous grin. ‘And what about Elsie Tanner?’

‘What about her?’ Annie swallowed hard, her jaw set firm.

‘I know she’s not your favourite person, but you’ve got to admit she is extremely resourceful and would be an asset to any such committee.’

‘Is that what they call it?’ Annie said, drawing her lips into a thin line, though she did grudgingly add Elsie’s name to the list.

Steve Carter stood outside the Rovers Return, thinking how much better it would look with a fresh coat of paint. It was not what he had imagined when Jack Walker, who had served with him in the Fusiliers, talked about the local pub he ran with his wife in Weatherfield. Perhaps painting the outside was something he could offer to do almost immediately, something that would endear him to Mrs Walker in case Jack’s recommendation wasn’t enough.

Despite having walked a long way from the tram, he was early for his appointment, so he continued slowly up the street and back again checking out the neighbourhood. He was trying not to limp or show any sign of weakness, determined to ignore the dull ache that was plaguing him today in his injured leg. He took every opportunity to exercise his leg as he still marvelled at the fact that he could walk at all, the doctors in the battlefield hospital having told him he never would. On his return home from the front, he’d battled his way through a vigorous rehabilitation programme, determined to prove them wrong, and here he was, managing well enough, even though there were still dark days when the pain made it difficult for him to cope.

Jack had visited him in the field hospital on several occasions after the Jeep Steve had been driving had overturned, badly injuring his leg. When Steve had eventually heard he was being repatriated and invalided out of the army he could hardly believe his luck when Jack suggested he contact his wife Annie regarding a possible job in the pub they ran together.

‘How can I ever repay you?’ Steve asked.

‘By working hard,’ Jack said and chuckled. ‘You’ll be making life a bloomin’ sight easier for me when I finally get out of this hellhole.’

‘Let’s hope that won’t be too long. Sorry I’m leaving you behind to do the mopping up.’

‘Never you mind that, now. You’re only … how old are you, lad? Twenty-five, twenty-six?’

‘Actually, I’m twenty-eight,’ Steve corrected him.

‘Still pretty young in my book,’ Jack said, ‘and thankfully still with your whole life ahead of you. All I’m doing is offering you a leg up, so to speak.’ He grinned at his own wit. ‘Look at it this way, you’ll be ahead of the game in the job market if you get back to civvy street before the rest of us. So it’s up to you to make the most of it.’

It hadn’t taken much more persuading for Jack to convince him to try his luck at the Rovers and Steve was extremely grateful for the offer. He’d been thinking about his future while he was in hospital almost from the moment he’d come out of his coma and he was determined not to let his injury hold him back from the career he’d always wanted. Accepting Jack’s offer would take him one step closer to his dream of one day tenanting a smart country pub.

As soon as he felt fit enough when his rehab programme was over, he telephoned Annie Walker to declare his interest and explain who he was. He was surprised at how posh her voice was – it sounded very far removed from Jack’s down-to-earth accent. But he had to admit that, even during their brief conversation, she did sound every bit as Jack had hinted: a strong woman with a mind of her own.

Steve arrived back at the Rovers exactly on time for the interview she’d suggested and he paused outside for a moment to admire the large panes of frosted glass that had somehow survived the war. Just as the pub has survived the absence of its landlord, he thought in a fanciful moment. Surely it said something about the strength of the woman he’d come to see? There was no doubt she was some kind of a force to be reckoned with, even Jack had admitted that. Steve took a deep breath as he headed towards the door. Exactly what kind of force he was about to find out.

‘I fully appreciate what Jack is saying,’ Annie Walker said when they were finally seated in the back parlour and all the introductions and pleasantries were out of the way. She slipped some half-moon glasses onto the end of her nose and glanced back to Jack’s letter in her hand. ‘It’s just like my husband to try to help someone out, but are you sure you’re ready for all the heavy work? Because that is a large and integral part of the job.’

‘I’m pretty well as fit as I ever was,’ Steve said, crossing his fingers behind his back. ‘And I’m still working on it, so I reckon I’m as ready as I can be to tackle whatever’s needed.’ Steve looked her straight in the eye as he said this, until eventually she looked away and he hoped that it was his eyes twinkling a little that had brought the slight smile to Annie’s lips. ‘After all, it was my leg that was damaged, not my arms,’ he said, ‘so I reckon I can still lift the odd barrel and the like.’ Steve grinned, hoping she wouldn’t ask him to demonstrate these skills right now as he was actually feeling the effects of his long walk.

‘And do you really consider you’re ready for the managerial responsibilities this job entails? After all, you’ve been serving in the army for the last few years,’ Annie said.

‘As a corporal,’ Steve pointed out. ‘Which in itself involves taking on responsibilities.’

‘But not as a high-flying officer, so at least you won’t be after my job.’ Annie gave a tinkling laugh. ‘Though you will be used to taking orders.’ Steve wanted to smile at the slightly patronizing way she said that and he hoped his face didn’t give him away.

‘And would you say, generally, that you have a good head for business?’ Annie asked. ‘I will, of course, still be in overall charge, but I need someone solid and dependable who can take care of all aspects of the day-to-day running of the place. I have two young children who need my attention as well as the pub, and until the Germans surrender and peace is declared, we have no idea when Jack is likely to be coming home.’

As if on cue the door suddenly burst open and a little boy ran into the room crying, ‘Mummy, Mummy, who was that funny man with the limp who came hopping in?’ He stopped when he saw Steve and stared up at his face before glancing down at his legs. The boy then drew back his foot as if to let loose a mighty kick at Steve but luckily Steve saw the sudden movement and caught the boy’s leg before it could make contact. He held on to it while the boy could only hop in ever-decreasing circles. ‘I bet I can make you hop much better than me,’ Steve whispered into the boy’s ear. His voice was soft but steely and he continued to smile. He didn’t want to say more as he was waiting for Annie to intervene.

‘Tell him to stop!’ the boy squealed, but Annie only made soothing noises. ‘Oh Billy, you are such a one. I thought I told you to stay in the kitchen and look after Joanie? What will your father say? You know, he won’t tolerate such behaviour when he comes home.’

‘Then I don’t want him ever to come home. I hate him!’ Billy shouted. ‘He’s not going to tell me what to do.’

As if he suddenly realized he was still holding on to the leg of Jack’s son, Steve stood up abruptly and as he did so he lifted the young boy off the ground.

‘Put me down!’ Billy screamed. Steve paid no heed at first, but when it became apparent Annie had nothing more to say, he eventually lowered him to the floor. As soon as he was standing upright, Billy aimed a kick again at Steve’s legs which Steve was fortunately able to parry. Billy’s jaw tightened as he turned away and he began to half run, half walk round the room with an exaggerated limp, shouting, ‘I’m Mr Hoppy and I can hop better than you!’ in a taunting voice. When he reached the door he turned and pulled out his tongue. Annie gasped, then Billy hopped off into the vestibule, leaving the door wide open behind him.

Annie shook her head and made a tutting sound as Billy disappeared, but then she got up to close the door and Steve could see she was smiling.

‘What can you do with such a rascal?’ she said with no attempt at an apology.

‘Hope that he grows up to be a decent man like his father,’ Steve offered diplomatically, making sure to maintain the smile on his lips, even though his leg had begun to throb in anticipation of what might have been.

‘Now, where were we?’ Annie said.

‘Discussing my ranking, I think.’ Steve handed her a sheet of paper, outlining his previous jobs. ‘I’d say my work history speaks for itself,’ he said. ‘I think you’ll find I can work at whatever level you require.’

‘So, what would you say are the essentials for a good pub?’ Annie asked as she glanced over the paper.

Steve was about to say, ‘a pretty barmaid,’ but he managed to check himself and said instead, ‘A good pub should have contented staff. Someone behind the bar who has a sense of humour and a happy smile.’ He gestured towards Annie with his hand as he said this. To his surprise she blushed as he held her gaze for a moment and he realized that was not the answer she’d been expecting. ‘I’ve seen what looks like a new pub not very far from here,’ Steve said quickly.

‘Ah, yes, indeed,’ Annie said, peering through the glasses that had slipped down her nose. ‘That would be the Tripe Dresser’s Arms, though I believe they have some fancy new name for it now, which I find not a little pretentious.’

‘Well, as a newcomer to the area I’d certainly want to check out the opposition.’ He didn’t want to tell her he’d already done that and that he intended to visit the Pride of Weatherfield again in the very near future in pursuit of the pretty barmaid in the green dress who did indeed have a sense of humour and a welcoming smile. Annie continued to probe with a further list of questions until there really seemed nothing left to ask. Finally, she stood up and Steve followed suit. He had assumed the interview was a formality so he was surprised when she said, ‘I’d be happy for you to start tomorrow, but I’m afraid it would have to be cellar work only for the time being. I’m sure you understand that I’ll have to follow up your references before I can make the bar manager’s position official.’

‘Yes, of course, I understand,’ Steve said politely.’ He didn’t really, for he’d assumed the job was his, wasn’t her husband’s endorsement of him good enough? ‘And how long do you think that might take?’

A flash of annoyance crossed her face. ‘I shall get on to it as quickly as I’m able,’ she said. She glanced towards the closed door. The sound of children squabbling was increasing. ‘It’s been very nice to meet you, thank you so much for coming, Mr Carter.’ She put out her hand and Steve shook it. ‘It’s Steve, please,’ he said. ‘I look forward to working with you,’ and he gave her what he hoped was a winning smile.

It was a week before Steve received notification that the manager’s job was his should he still want it, and if his leg hadn’t been playing up that morning he would have danced round his mother’s kitchen with delight.

‘At least that Mrs Walker knows a good thing when she sees one,’ Mrs Carter said as he waved the letter in front of her.

‘Only thing is, Mam,’ Steve’s face was suddenly serious as he sat down at the table, ‘it means I’ll be moving out of here again. You and dad have done so much to help me since I’ve been back, and you know I’m grateful, but I’m afraid it’s too far for me to travel each day. I’ll have to try and find some digs in Weatherfield, closer to the pub.’

‘Don’t worry, love. You don’t have to make excuses. It’s your life and you have to do what you have to do. It’s not as though you haven’t lived away before. You were never home much before the war. I’m just right proud you’re not letting that nasty injury business get in your way,’ she said, kissing the top of his sleeked-back hair. ‘Just be sure to remember to visit us once in a while.’

‘Didn’t I always? At least once in a while.’ Steve laughed.

‘Maybe a little more often than you did before would be nice, and I promise not to ask what you get up to in between whiles, though I can guess.’

‘Fair’s fair. I’m not a kid. You know that.’

‘You mean what I don’t know can’t hurt me, eh? Is that what you’re saying?’

‘Something like that.’

‘Like I don’t know what you get up to now that you’re back on your feet!’

‘Well, you don’t, do you?’

‘True enough. No more than I ever knew.’ She sighed. ‘And right embarrassing that could be. I lost count of the times a young lassie’s mother would come up to me in the street saying how thrilled she was her young ’un were courting my lad. And me, I knew nowt about it so I couldn’t say yay or nay.’

‘Go on with you. You didn’t really want to know all the ins and outs every time I went out with someone, now did you?’

‘No, there were too many of them for me to keep track.’ She gave a rueful smile. ‘You were not like your sister. The only thing I can say is that at least none of them got up the duff. Not so far as I know, at any rate.’

Steve gave a loud guffaw. ‘Oh, Mam, that’s why I love you so much. You come right out with it. There’s no beating about the bush with you, is there? And that’s why I think it’s far better that I live my own life. Can you imagine if I’d have told you about all the girls I’ve been out with over the years, not to mention those who I didn’t go out with even though they said I did. You’d never have got a wink of sleep for worrying. So I’ll do you a favour and this time I’ll move far enough away so you can’t bump into any young lassie’s mother. Though I promise to tell you if I hit the jackpot.’

‘What? You get wed?’ Now his mother laughed with a throaty laugh that ended in a choking splutter. ‘Never!’

‘You know what they say, never say never. But for now how about lending me a few bob?’