Elsie was flummoxed. She was only just getting to know Stan Walsh as she’d heard one of the regulars call him. So far she liked what she saw. She certainly didn’t like the idea of him buggering off to Spain to fight in some war. Who knew what might happen. He might never come back. ‘So what does your mam have to say about all this?’ she said.
‘I haven’t said owt to her. I told you: it’s a secret.’
Elsie frowned. ‘Don’t you think we’ve got enough problems here in Weatherfield, without the likes of you waltzing off to Spain.’
‘But it’s important that Franco is stopped.’ Stan was adamant.
‘Well, that’s all very well. But why do you need to get involved? And what if Hitler takes a fancy to coming on to us? Don’t you think you’ll be needed here?’
Stan looked thoughtful. ‘I can see what you mean, but …’ He looked uncertain.
Elsie moved away from the wall, preparing to leave. ‘Look, I haven’t got time to stand here arguing the toss. I’ve got to get to work.’
‘I know, I’m sorry.’ Stan took off his cap and raked his fingers through his hair. ‘I just wanted you to know what I was thinking, that’s all.’ Stan lowered his eyes. ‘I shan’t be telling anyone else.’
‘I see.’ Elsie didn’t know what to say. ‘Well, thanks for telling me.’
‘So, I’ll see you at the pub tonight?’ His voice was eager.
Elsie liked that. She nodded. ‘Right.’
‘And you won’t tell anyone what we talked about?’
‘No, of course not.’
‘Only I don’t want Mr Harehill to know what I’m planning.’
‘You’ve no need to worry. He won’t hear it from me,’ she said. She started to walk away but Stan caught hold of her by the shoulders. He leaned forward with pouted lips, but Elsie had turned her head so he ended up pecking her on the cheek.
‘Thanks, Else. I’ll see you tonight then.’ He turned to go. ‘And don’t forget: mum’s the word.’ He put his finger to his lips and disappeared while Elsie had to run all the way down the road to reach the factory gates on time.
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