Читать книгу Christmas on Coronation Street: The perfect Christmas read - Maggie Sullivan, Maggie Sullivan - Страница 12

It was exhausting being rushed off her feet at the Butcher’s Arms, particularly after a long shift at the factory, but Elsie enjoyed working alongside Stan. As Mr Harehill had predicted, Christmas was a particularly busy time, but it was also a time when customers were more generous than usual with their tips. In the privacy of the bedroom, when she was sure none of the other occupants were around, Elsie was gratified to see her small stash of money was steadily mounting as she carefully checked it on a Saturday night. She shared knowledge of the contents of the old biscuit tin with nobody. Not even Fay. And she made certain never to touch it if any of her sisters were around. She was looking forward to the day when she would have enough to buy her first present for herself. It would have to be something new. That would make it very special and it would be her very own. She dreamed of having her first proper lipstick.

Although she saw Stan every day, they never had time for more than a bit of playful banter as they were flying about clearing and refilling the glasses. Mr Harehill didn’t encourage what he called ‘chattering’ among the staff, and most nights she left before Stan did, so he couldn’t even walk her home. But there was something comforting about him just being there that gave her a warm glowing feeling inside. She was considering hanging around after her shift now and again so they could have the chance for a chat, but before she had a chance to act on it, she was surprised one night, a few days before her birthday, to find Stan had come in search of her.

Elsie and the other workers at the factory came out of work late that day as they’d been asked to put in an extra shift. Things were changing in the factory and rumour had it they would all be expected to do different kinds of work soon, though nobody knew quite what that meant. It was as if, despite all the optimism that was in the air, the country was still preparing for war.

As always, Elsie came out arm and arm with her friend Aggie and they said goodbye at the gate. Then as she turned to head for home, she felt someone tug at her sleeve.

‘Stop messing about, will you – let go of me,’ she snapped, thinking it was one of the ragamuffins who hung around the factory gates. They loved to plague the life out of the young workers, waiting with their hands out and pleading for spare change in their pitiful, whining voices. She turned round testily, ready to give the little so-and-so a telling off, for she was tired and ready to go home. But to her surprise, she came face to face with Stan.

‘Hello,’ he said, touching his cap as she’d seen him do before.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ she asked.

‘Waiting for you,’ he said. ‘I assumed you still worked here. I thought I’d come and look for you.’

‘Well, you didn’t have to look far.’ Elsie grinned. She was pleased to see him, but then began to worry that something might be wrong. ‘Is anything up?’ she said.

He shrugged. ‘Nowt much.’ He paused. ‘I wanted to tell you I got a promotion.’

‘What, at the Butcher’s?’

He nodded.

Elsie’s jaw dropped. ‘When was that then?’

‘This dinner time.’

‘How did you manage to get that stingy bugger to agree?’

‘Fancy a bit of a walk? Come with me and I’ll tell you.’

Twilight had given way to darkness as they’d been standing and everyone else had suddenly disappeared. Only the nightwatchman was left, and he was busy fixing a sturdy padlock on to the factory’s wrought-iron gates.

‘Which way?’ Elsie asked.

‘How about we go to the Field?’

‘All right.’ Elsie was sure Fay would cover for her at teatime. She felt him fumble in the darkness for her hand. He put it with his into his coat pocket. It gave her quite a thrill and made her think twice about commenting on the hole she could feel in the pocket lining.

‘What’s your promotion then?’ Elsie asked.

‘I’ll be taking over Phil’s job.’

‘Wow! How did that happen?’

‘Till was a bob short. Old Hairy accused him of pinching. There was the heck of a row, then he told him to go. Straight up. No explanations. No second chance.’

‘Had he really nicked owt?’ Elsie wanted to know. ‘I didn’t think Phil was like that.’

‘No, I don’t think he is. Kept swearing he hadn’t touched anything, but Hairy didn’t give him a chance. You know what he’s like about that cash register.’

‘He’d take it to bed with him if he could.’ Elsie giggled. ‘Don’t tell me the mean bugger’s going to trust you to use the till.’

‘Not yet. He said I’d have to prove myself first. But that’s OK. I don’t want ever to be accused of anything. He can have it all to himself, for all I care. Less work for me. But he has agreed to upping me wages.’

‘Well done. That’s great. Did you have to beg?’

‘No more than usual.’

‘Then he must like you, is all I can say,’ she teased.

They had come to the flickering gas light at the end of the row of the houses. Beyond was the wasteland they knew as the Field. Elsie’s favourite upturned bucket seemed to have disappeared and there was nowhere for either of them to sit. Stan propped himself up against the end wall of the terrace and pulled Elsie towards him.

‘I first met you here, didn’t I?’ he said.

She nodded. ‘And then you saw me here the second time, the night I followed you to the pub.’

‘I remember,’ he said. ‘You shouted something to me, but I was in such a hurry I didn’t even realize you were following me.’

‘It was thanks to you I got that job. He never would have believed I was eighteen if it hadn’t been for you. But I’ve always wondered: how did you know my name?’

Stan’s lips twisted into a smile and he tapped the side of his nose with his finger.

‘Ah, that’s not fair,’ she complained. ‘Go on, tell me, I really want to know.’

‘No big mystery. After seeing you the first time, I asked one of your mates from the factory who you were. They told me your name.’

Elsie laughed. ‘Simple as that!’ But she did feel flattered. Her instincts about this lad were serving her well. She didn’t have long to dwell on the thought, though, because Stan put his hand up behind her head and pulled her face towards his. Then he kissed her full on the lips. At first, Elsie was surprised. Then she relaxed as she felt his mouth, fleshy and warm against hers. She responded to the stiffness of his tongue as he explored her mouth. This felt different from most of the boys she had kissed before. This felt really grown-up. They stood for a few minutes, holding each other, gently kissing. Then the light drizzle that had begun as soon as they started walking turned into a heavy downpour. Elsie pulled her thin coat tightly around her, but her hair began to drip into her eyes and she couldn’t stop shivering.

‘Bugger!’ Stan said. ‘What a bloody nuisance. I suppose we can’t just stand here and get wet.’

‘Too late,’ Elsie said, putting her hand to her already bedraggled hair. ‘I reckon I’d best get on home.’

‘I’ll walk you back,’ Stan offered. ‘Maybe it’ll stop.’

‘Yes, and pigs might fly!’ Elsie laughed, as they set off at a brisk pace.

Stan reached for her hand and held it in his, although this time he didn’t try to put it into his pocket. ‘Do you fancy going out on Sunday?’ he asked.

‘Out? What, like together?’

‘Yes, of course together.’

‘Where to?’

‘I dunno. I could meet you by the factory gate after dinner. We can go for a walk. I’ll think of somewhere to go by then.’

Elsie hesitated, then she said quietly, ‘It’s me birthday on Sunday. I’ve never been out on me birthday before.’ She wasn’t sure why she had told him that.

‘Well, in that case you can’t say no.’

Overcome by a sudden shyness, Elsie smiled.

‘Tell you what – can you ride a bike?’ Stan asked.

‘A bike? I don’t know as I’ve ever tried. But I’ve not got one anyway, so it makes no difference.’

‘No, but I’ve got one and I can lend you me brother Charlie’s. I bet I could soon teach you to ride.’

Elsie frowned, not sure if he was being serious. Riding a bike wasn’t something she’d ever thought of doing. Not recently, at any rate; she had longed to have a go when she was a kid. Fay had once found a tricycle on the tip. It didn’t have a seat and the handlebars were a bit wonky, but they had taken turns to ride it standing up while desperately trying to steer. She had ended up with the bike on top of her when it had tipped over as she tried to turn a corner, and that was the end of it. Since then, she had never attempted to ride again. She certainly had never tried on a real bike that only had two wheels.

‘We could go out on to the moors,’ Stan said.

Elsie hesitated, considering his suggestion, but he was persistent. ‘Tell you what, if you want to meet me tomorrow I could teach you to ride in no time. I’ll keep hold of the seat till you get the hang of it. It won’t take long, I’m sure.’

Elsie wasn’t at all sure, but she was willing to give it a go. It would be exciting to do something special for her birthday.

‘Do you know Coronation Street?’ Stan asked.

Elsie did know it. Coronation Street wasn’t that far from Back Gas Street, but they might as well have been on opposite poles they were so different. Coronation Street was a tidy row of neat terraces that had been built to house the workers from the old Hardcastle mill, which had long since shut and was now the raincoat factory. The residents who lived there now were ordinary working folk, just like she was, but Coronation Street had a proud air about it, everyone seeming to sense they were lucky to live there. It was very different from the squalid slums that were all she knew.

‘Of course, why?’

‘Because it’s got a good stretch of fairly flat cobbles. And that lot are so houseproud they always clear up the horse dung after the milkman’s been, so it’s never too slippery. You’ll be able to learn right quick there. And there’s a good straight run from one end of the street to the other.’

‘I don’t know—’ Elsie began, but Stan wasn’t listening.

‘There’s a slight slope that you’ll have to pedal up, but on the way down all you have to do is steer. Tell you what – why don’t I meet you at the factory gates, like I said, and I’ll bring the bike. We can walk to Coronation Street from there.’

Elsie wasn’t at all convinced she would be able to do it. To her, it sounded a crazy idea, but Stan was so enthusiastic she didn’t want to be a spoilsport and say no.

‘If I learn how to do it, can we really go out for my birthday?’ she asked, spurred on by the thought of such a treat.

‘Like I said, it could be fun. And me brother need never know I’ve borrowed his bike.’

Elsie for once was speechless. No one had ever done anything special for her birthday before. So that made her more determined than ever that by Sunday she would learn how to ride a bike.