‘You’re a cheeky sod. Do you know that?’ she said. ‘Pretending you’re so much better than me. Here, give us a puff of that.’ She grabbed the cigarette from between his fingers and took a long drag. But she dropped it as quickly as she had picked it up when she began to cough and choke. Stan rescued the remains of his home-rolled fag from the heathery stubble. ‘What did you do that for, you daft cow. Trying to be clever? I bet you’ve never smoked before, have you?’
Elsie shook her head, unable to speak. She got up and ran away as quickly as she could from where they were sitting. She needed to throw up.
Stan tutted. ‘I can see I’ll have to teach you a lot more than just how to ride a bike,’ he said.
The coughing fit slowly subsided and Elsie came and sat down beside him.
‘’Ere, let me make it better,’ he said, pulling her towards him. He put his arm round her and she let herself be comforted as he stroked her back.
Now that her breathing was almost back to normal, she could feel the cold striking up from the sodden grass.
‘Damn!’ she said. The back of her dress was wet. The wind had also picked up and it didn’t take long before she was chilled to the bone. But it felt so nice being there, just the two of them, that she didn’t want to spoil the moment.
It was Stan who jumped up, realizing he too had been getting his backside wet. ‘Fancy a sarnie?’ he said.
‘Oo, that sounds good.’
‘You’ve got a choice. Jam or jam?’ he laughed as he proffered the bag. Elsie stood up too. She realized when she peered into the packet that she was hungry and didn’t wait before she sank her teeth into two of the thickest chunks of bread she’d ever seen. There was a thin smear of red jam in between and it tasted good. Stan demolished his half of the sandwich equally quickly.
‘What’s for afters?’ he said.
Elsie raised her eyebrows.
‘As if I didn’t know,’ Stan said. He pulled out her present, still in its gift wrap, and handed it to her. Elsie broke it up into squares. She took a large one before passing the rest to Stan. She put the whole piece into her mouth and sucked on it. It tasted delicious. It didn’t take long before they’d finished the entire bar. She had eaten so quickly that for a moment she thought she might be sick again, but she was determined not to let her birthday present go to waste. She took a deep breath and neatly folded the coloured paper. I’m going to keep this, she thought, and tucked it into her cardigan sleeve.
‘We can go for a walk,’ Stan suggested. ‘Might help to warm us up a bit.’
‘Good idea,’ Elsie said. She was trying not to think of the long journey home, however much of it would be downhill. ‘I wonder who lives over there?’ she said, pointing to what looked more like an unlived-in old cottage than somebody’s current home.
‘Let’s go see,’ Stan said. ‘I’m sure our bikes will be all right here for a bit.’ And he reached out to take her hand.
As they had thought, the cottage was abandoned. Inside, the roof sagged ominously, but they crept through the door into the shelter of the ruin. As soon as they were hidden from view, Stan pulled Elsie towards him and kissed her. His breath was warm and sweet, and as his tongue probed her own gently, she felt a ripple of desire shoot through her. She responded eagerly, but at the sound of masonry dislodging itself above them, they pulled apart. It looked as if the roof might collapse at any moment.
‘We’d best get out of here before there’s an accident,’ Stan said, taking her hand as they picked their way out of the ramshackle building and down the path into what might have once been the garden. In the centre there were the remains of some small trees, and where flowers may once have grown there were now tall upright stones and boulders. At the end of the garden was a signpost but the names on the two arms had long since worn away.
‘Here.’ Stan’s voice was thick as he pointed to a clump of several rocks. They formed a dry platform with a back wall that would shelter them from the wind.
Elsie followed him out and they sat down together against the largest of the rocks. It was warm and dry, and as she made herself comfortable Elsie was aware of him looking at her with raw desire. Next thing she knew, they were wrapped around each other in a passionate clinch. This was even better than the last time. There’s something different about Stan, she thought as his hand worked its way up the back of her dress to unclasp her bra. There was something that set him apart from the boys who hung around the courtyard. Clearly he was older than she was. Not so much a boy, more of a young man. She could feel her nipples standing erect as his assured touch lingered over them and she knew that this time it really was special, for her body clearly wanted more. Shocked at her own reaction, she made no attempt to stop his hand when it slid effortlessly under her skirt. His fingers dipped inside her soft cotton knickers and she was glad that she had put them on. She almost wished she could display them. Suddenly it was as if Stan had read her thoughts, for he pulled them off – tearing them in the process.
‘Hey! What do you think you’re doing?’ she gasped. She was about to add that he should take care as they weren’t hers, but fortunately she stopped herself in time, realizing how stupid it would sound.
‘Well, we’ve got them out of the way,’ he said, his voice husky. ‘Now it’s back to the serious business.’ His beaming smile made him look anything but serious. But when she felt his hand between her legs again she realized what he had meant. Elsie had let some of the local boys have a grope and feel before, but for the first time in her life she was transported, carried on a rush of longing that flooded her whole body. Elsie wasn’t sure what to expect but when Stan pulled down his own trousers and she felt him enter her, she gasped in surprise as the pain and the pleasure entwined deliciously around each other inside her body.
Afterwards he took off his jacket and wrapped it round her as they sat together on the boulder. But then she remembered something.
‘Where’s me drawers?’ They looked around them, and saw that the wind had caught the flimsy strips of cotton and carried them as far as the nearest small tree, where they’d caught on one of the branches and now hung flapping precariously. Elsie could only laugh. And she could see that Stan was laughing too.
Once her knickers were reinstated, Stan offered her a cigarette. When she hesitated, he showed her how to hold it between her fingers and to breathe in gently. She remembered how Deanna Durbin had done it on the screen and did the same. She felt very grown-up and sophisticated. And so she should. For hadn’t she now got her first boyfriend. A special someone who bought her presents and made her feel like a real woman and not just young Elsie Grimshaw from Back Gas Street.
Elsie spent the next few days almost dancing, feeling as if her feet were not touching the ground. I have a proper boyfriend, she kept saying to herself over and over, and no one can take him away. She was fifteen years old and she had at last found the kind of boyfriend who bought her presents. The kind who would stick around for a very long time. Stan had proved that, hadn’t he, when he’d asked her to go out with him again the following week. And hadn’t they been seeing each other whenever they could ever since. He must like her. And she certainly liked him.
After that first time they went back to the moors on Sunday afternoons whenever the weather held. Sometimes they rode together over to the other side of Weatherfield, up and down some of the hillier streets, to help her improve her skills. Elsie was quite proud of herself. Not only was she able to ride more smoothly as time wore on, but it wasn’t long before she was able to negotiate the narrow, unevenly cobbled streets and alleyways on the outskirts of the town without falling off. And she was no longer feeling sore whenever she mounted the saddle. She loved the freedom of getting out into the country,