The colour had risen in Aggie’s face and there were two rosy spots on her cheeks. ‘I don’t know if I should. I—’
‘Course you should. You’re my mate, aren’t you?’
Aggie remained silent, avoiding her gaze. Instead she looked down at her hands, which she was clasping and unclasping in her lap.
Elsie didn’t know what to think. ‘C’mon, spit it out,’ she said. ‘I want to know what he’s been saying.’
Aggie took a deep breath. ‘He’s saying …’ She had been unwilling to tell her friend the awful stories Stan was spreading about her, but now it felt as though she had opened the floodgates. Aggie sat forward and Elsie looked at her in anticipation, but her friend only sagged back into the chair. The rosy spots had disappeared and her face now looked drained.
‘For crying out loud!’ Elsie was torn between irritation and alarm. ‘You can’t stop in the middle like that.’
Aggie spoke again and this time the words came out in a rush, although her voice was barely above a whisper.
‘It’s about that day on the moors. Your birthday. And you finding that old house and …’
Elsie felt the blood drain from her face. Knowing what must be coming, she wasn’t sure now that she wanted to hear it, but Aggie was still speaking softly. ‘You kissed him? Right?’
‘Yeah, I bloody kissed him. Isn’t that what people do when they have a boyfriend? Don’t you and Danny …?’
‘I’m not talking about me.’ Aggie dismissed the question sharply. ‘Did you …? You know … did you go any further?’
Elsie felt the blood rush to her face. The girls at the factory giggled about what they got up to with their boyfriends, but it was all very ‘nudge nudge, wink wink’ and no one talked in any real detail about what went on between a man and a woman – not to girls of her age, at any rate. Elsie knew that she wasn’t like most of the other girls and she was starting to realize that doing things your own way could attract the wrong sort of attention.
‘He’s my boyfriend, I told you,’ Elsie said, as convincingly as she could. But then she stopped. No longer so sure of anything. A cold shiver ran down her spine. ‘What’s he been saying?’ Elsie demanded. ‘I’ve got a right to know.’
‘Stan’s been boasting. About what you two got up to – not just on the moors, but on the Field as well.’
Elsie felt the gorge rise in her throat. She was so angry, she couldn’t speak. The toad. For that’s all he was. A snitching toad. And all the while she’d thought they’d had something special.
‘I hope I did the right thing, telling you.’ Aggie’s voice was tentative. ‘Only, I was mithered about what other people might be saying. Some of the girls at the factory … well, they’ve not been saying kind things about you. Calling you a slut and rotten stuff like that.’
Elsie gave her friend a doleful smile. ‘Ah well, you should know me well enough by now to know I don’t give a bugger what other people might say. What I do or don’t do isn’t any of their bloody business.’ She sighed. ‘Isn’t life hard enough as it is, without having to fight for me sodding reputation.’
‘Oh, Elsie, are you a slut?’ Aggie had such a worried look that Elsie couldn’t take it seriously. To her friend’s astonishment, she burst out laughing.
‘I don’t know whether I am or not. What’s more, I don’t care. All I know is the way Stan makes me feel – or he did, at any rate. Stop looking so worried, Aggs.’
‘But aren’t you worried about getting … you know … in the family way?’
Elsie cocked her head to one side. ‘Stan said he was careful, whatever that means.’
Aggie threw her arms round her. ‘Elsie Grimshaw, you’re a one and no mistake. What am I going to do with you?’
‘Still be my friend, I should hope.’
Aggie nodded. ‘Of course, I’ll always be that.’
‘It’s that bloody Stan,’ said Elsie, still fuming. ‘He’s the one needs pulling down a peg or two. He swore on his life not to tell another living soul. Wait till I get my hands on him!’
Elsie left Aggie’s house in such a fury it was all she could do to contain herself. Somehow she was going to have to keep a lid on her emotions until closing time at the Butcher’s. With old Hairy watching like a hawk, she would have to be civil to Stan during the course of the evening shift; she daren’t let her anger spill over and risk upsetting her boss. In the event, all she could manage was short, curt responses whenever he spoke to her. The first time she did it, he looked at her surprised for he had no inkling of what was going on. She quite relished the fact that he would have to remain puzzled, for there was no opportunity to talk once they had set to work.
Fortunately, she had no time to think about it after pulling the first pint, for it was the stag night of one of their regulars who was getting married the next day. As she watched the men in the party became more and more drunk, Elsie thought with pity about the poor bride-to-be. The young groom must have spent the whole of his wage packet standing drinks for everyone at the bar, even sending some through for the ladies in the snug. Elsie was pleased with her own pickings, for she did well in tips by the end of the evening. And she could have been flat-out drunk too, if she had taken up all the free drinks every time they were offered. She did sneak a couple of shorts at the end of the evening when she knew everyone had been served. Not that she needed Dutch courage, but when she saw Stan slip himself a Scotch or two she thought it wouldn’t do any harm to be well fortified for what she knew was to come.
When she and Stan finally quit the pub, the rowdy mob from the pre-wedding party had left before them, nursing their already sore heads. Stan was in a mellow mood. Before they’d gone as far as the top of the lane that led to the main road, he was feeling for her hand. Elsie snatched it away and folded her arms firmly across her chest. Stan stopped walking. He was laughing as he stood in front of her, imitating her posture.
‘Blimey, Else, you look fierce tonight,’ he said. ‘If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you were mad at me for summat. You’ve been snippy all evening.’
‘You do know me well enough, Stan Walsh,’ she said, moving her hands to her hips and planting her feet firmly apart. ‘The way I hear it, you’ve been telling the world just how well you know me.’
At that Stan laughed and looked relieved. ‘Oh, is that what this is all about? Me showing you off as my girlfriend? If a bloke can’t boast around the place about his woman, then the world is a sorry place.’
‘Is that what it was, boasting? Boasting about your easy conquest, more like.’ Elsie felt as if every nerve ending was fired and ready to explode. No doubt this was how her father felt when he came home sozzled and let fly at her or one of the kids. The booze definitely gave her that extra edge. But she didn’t need any more alcohol to finish this fight, thank you very much. Her anger was already well fuelled.
‘Of course. I wanted to share my good fortune. Tell everyone I’m the happiest man there is.’
‘What about it being “our secret”? “Just between the two of us”, like you said.’
‘Yes, well, doesn’t everybody say that? But it doesn’t mean you have to stick to it totally.’
Elsie opened her mouth to contradict but was so flabbergasted she couldn’t find the words. She didn’t have to worry though, because now that he had started, Stan kept going. ‘Anyway,’ he said, ‘I should have thought you’d be pleased. I want everyone to know I’ve got the best girl in the