The chill of the early morning was likely to remain throughout the day, so Elsie would need to wrap up warm. But when she had worn her coat last night for the trial run on the bike, it had flapped annoyingly around the chain, getting in the way, so today she put her cardigan on instead. She fastened all the buttons against the wind, but even so she found herself wishing she had darned some of the larger holes.
Elsie was still excited by the fact that she had learned to ride a bike last night. It hadn’t been easy, but she had conquered her fear and maintained her balance and by the time Stan had said they should call it a day, she’d been riding up and down the street in triumph. She’d never have believed it could be so exhilarating, riding the length and breadth of Coronation Street without anyone holding on to the saddle, and when she wobbled off a couple of times it had cost her nothing more than her dignity. But now she realized she was paying the full price for Stan’s tuition, for this morning her legs ached when she tried to walk, and sitting down was so painful she didn’t know how she was going to get back on to the bike.
They had taken a chance and hidden Charlie’s bike overnight under some old rags in the courtyard, and when she went out to use the privy she was relieved to find the bike was still there. She wheeled it to the factory gates where she was to meet Stan, hoping that by walking slowly alongside it she would be conserving her energy for today’s ride. She had no idea how far they would be going, Stan was keeping that a secret, but it was bound to be a fair way.
He was already at the factory and was leaning on his bike as it stood propped up against the iron gates. He was wearing his cap as usual, but today he had tied the bottom of each of his wide trouser legs with a band of string. Elsie thought he looked very dapper and dashing, smoking a cigarette while leaning casually on the gates, and she had to pinch herself it was so hard to believe that a man was taking her out specially for her birthday.
As always, Stan doffed his cap when he caught sight of her. ‘At your service, madam,’ he said as she drew near, giving a slight bow and making Elsie giggle. ‘And some little bird has told me it’s your birthday today,’ he said. From behind his back he whipped out a small package covered in pretty paper.
Elsie turned away to brush her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘No one’s ever given me a present on me birthday before. Is this really for me?’ she asked, overwhelmed at the gesture.
‘Really.’ He laughed as she began feeling the package, trying to guess what might be inside. ‘You’d better open it or you won’t be able to see what it is.’
It was just like one of the packages under the newsagent’s Christmas tree. She unwrapped the paper carefully, so as not to tear it. Inside, as she had suspected, was a bar of dark brown Bournville chocolate. A lump rose in her throat. ‘Thank you – thank you very much, Stan. I shall treasure it.’ She wanted to hang on to her precious present but realized she had no pockets to put it into.
At that Stan laughed again. ‘I was rather hoping you’d eat it. And you can give me a bit an’ all. But for now you can put it in me saddlebag.’ He indicated the small leather pouch on the back of his bike. She handed the chocolate over reluctantly. It did make more sense to put it away for the time being. And afterwards she would keep the paper he had wrapped it in. This was her first-ever present, and that was something she would never forget.
‘We can have it when we gets to the moors,’ he said.
‘The moors?’
‘Aye, I thought it would be nice to get out into the country. It’s not far, not now that you can ride.’
She nodded. She couldn’t tell him she was too sore to get on a bike today. Not when he’d gone to so much trouble. And after all the effort he’d put into teaching her to ride last night. She remembered how pleased he had been and knew she really couldn’t let him down.
‘Look, I brought this too.’ He brandished another package, this time in a brown paper bag. ‘It’s a sandwich, in case we get hungry at dinner time.’ He leaned towards her and kissed her lightly but tenderly on the lips.
A bar of chocolate and a sandwich! Elsie’s stomach fizzed with excitement; she felt really special now.
‘So, let’s go,’ Stan said, turning his bike. ‘You can follow me, I know the way. I’ve been up on to the moors loads of times.’
Elsie was afraid that he would see how difficult it was for her to lift her leg over the crossbar of Charlie’s bike, but as it turned out it she didn’t need to worry. He wasn’t watching; in fact, he was already halfway down the street. She wobbled along behind him for a short way then gripped the handlebars tightly while she tried to shut her mind to the pain.
‘I’m going to have a lovely time,’ she repeated over and over, trying madly to convince herself. ‘I’m not in pain and I’m going to have a very nice day.’ She lifted her head and felt the breeze in her hair. She thought of the sandwich and the chocolate bar in Stan’s saddlebag and like a miracle the pain seemed to drift away.
They were well out into the country and seemed to have been pedalling for ages when Stan signalled for her to stop. Elsie was some way behind him and it took a few minutes for her to catch up. But as there was no one else on the narrow ribbon of road, apart from the occasional car, she had never actually lost sight of him. When they stopped, the view was amazing. The choking fog and grime of the city were still within sight, yet she had never been here before. High up here on the moors she had a bird’s-eye view of Weatherfield; the rows and rows of brick terraces looked like one of those paintings you could see in the library and it seemed hardly possible that the houses were teeming with noisy and chaotic life, so peaceful and calm did it seem from this distance. And up here, amongst the soft, springy turf and the heather, was another world. There was so much space, almost no people, with only the occasional sheep. Stan had laid his bike down in the short stubby grass and was crouching beside it when Elsie eventually came to a halt. At that moment she wished she had been riding a girl’s bike. But somehow she managed to swing her leg back over the crossbar. She flopped on to the grass next to him and lay for a moment, spread-eagled, enjoying the silence, mesmerized by the hugeness of the sky. It was mostly grey with clouds that looked low enough to touch and only occasional pockets of blue. She’d never really looked at the sky before. At home it was difficult to see any of it between the buildings.
‘Not sure you should do that. It’ll be wet down there.’ Stan was watching her. ‘You’ll get yourself all muddy, if you’re not careful. People come up here with their dogs.’
Elsie sat up. Her dress was already mucky so it didn’t matter much. But she didn’t want to be the one to say that. Thankfully, she had just avoided a puddle.
‘You’re doing well for a beginner,’ he said, and smiled. ‘You OK?’
Elsie nodded but didn’t say anything.
‘I thought we’d go on just a bit further.’ He pointed ahead. ‘Over that next hill there’s a terrific view of the Pennines.’
She wasn’t sure how much further she could go, even if the view was better from the other side. It was all uphill from here, as far as she could see. In the far distance there was snow on the higher peaks. She trusted they weren’t headed there. The only thought she could console herself with was that there must be some bit where it was all downhill.
When they set off again, she slowed down considerably and at times lost sight of Stan altogether. But she kept doggedly at it and gritted her teeth until eventually she rounded a rocky outcrop and found him lying on an old newspaper in a grassy hollow. He was smoking, looking very relaxed.
‘What kept you?’ he said, his face creased into a grin.