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Authors: Margaret Thornton

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BOOK: Down an English Lane
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The clear night air was piercingly cold and there was a covering of fresh white frost on the ground. The bare branches of the trees and bushes sparkled silver in the moonlight and a sprinkling of stars shone in the midnight blue-black sky. It was a magical sight and Maisie felt strangely moved by it all, even though she had encountered similar scenes many times before. She felt very close to Ted; not just the closeness of his arm around her as they walked along the lane, but a feeling that she was growing more fond of him. He had been an attentive and cheerful companion all evening – she had never before enjoyed herself so much in his company – and she found now that the shock of the news about Bruce’s marriage had receded to the back of her mind.

She allowed him to kiss her more ardently than usual, several times, as they said goodnight at her back gate, and she felt herself responding to him more than she had ever done before. But as she felt his hand move and tentatively touch her breast – although it was only gently, on top of her clothing – she pulled away from him. She did not rebuke him, but just said cheerily, ‘Goodnight, Ted. Thanks for seeing me home.’

‘You know I always do…’ He gave her an odd sort of look.

‘Yes, I know, but thanks all the same. See you tomorrow then… No, I mean tonight actually, don’t I? At the pantomime?’

‘Sure thing,’ he said. ‘I’ll be there every night. Goodnight then, Maisie. Sleep tight…’

Lily had not waited up for her, knowing that she would be late, and knowing also that Ted would see her safely home. Her mother did not seem to mind so much about Ted now, or at least she did not say very much, engrossed as she was in the preparations for her own forthcoming marriage. Maisie knocked gently on the bedroom door, guessing that she would still not have gone to sleep.

‘I’m back now, safe and sound,’ she whispered. ‘Goodnight, Mum…’

‘Goodnight love,’ said a sleepy voice. ‘Have you had a nice time?’

‘Yes, thank you; it was lovely.’

‘Well, that’s all right then. See you in the morning.’

Maisie did not fall asleep straight away. So Bruce was married… Well, that was the end of that little dream, and the best thing she could do would be to put him right out of her mind. But what of Ted? She did like him a lot. She was finding he was much more open and friendly now that they knew one another better, and she did enjoy having a boyfriend. A lot of the girls in her form at school had boyfriends, including Audrey, of course.

But her thoughts were halted sharply by the
memory of what Ted’s mother had said that evening. ‘You’re practically one of the family…’ Was that how Ada Nixon regarded her already, as a future daughter-in-law? The idea of that worried Maisie. She knew that she looked older than her years; folk who did not know her sometimes took her for eighteen or so, but the fact remained that she was still not yet sixteen. Both Audrey and Doris had had their sixteenth birthdays, and probably Ada would be only too pleased if her daughter were to marry at an early age, at seventeen or eighteen, maybe. This often happened in the farming communities when girls found a suitable partner, who was usually involved in the same occupation.

But she, Maisie, was not of that ilk. Much as she was growing to like Ted, she could not see him as a future husband. Besides, that was years and years away. She had her exams to do, then sixth form, and possibly college… She must not let Ted or his mother get the wrong idea, and she must be careful that she did not get carried away by his kisses and embraces. There was a girl in her class who actually boasted that she had ‘gone the whole way’, although Maisie was not altogether sure that she believed her. But she knew that she must take very great care… She fell asleep eventually as her mind closed down against the maelstrom of her thoughts. She would think about it tomorrow…

As Ted watched the pantomime from the third row of the audience all he could think about was Maisie. What an absolutely stunning girl she was, and how had he, Ted Nixon, managed to persuade her to be his girlfriend?

He had felt, when he had first started seeing her, that she was in a completely different league from him; far cleverer and wittier and much more skilled in the art of conversation, and although she had come from a humble sort of background – a very disturbed and unsatisfactory one, according to his sister – she had made the most of her opportunities and seemed determined to forge ahead and really make her place in the world. And what would that be? What exactly did she want and what was she striving for? Ted did not know the answer to that; it was not something that they discussed, although they were getting along very well together in spite of their differences. But he feared that she would, one day, leave him far behind, not only in her thoughts, but in a very real sense as well. He could not imagine that the little town of Middlebeck would be big enough to contain Maisie Jackson once she achieved her aim.

Unless he could manage to make her see things differently… After all, what did most girls – nearly all girls, he guessed – really want from life? They wanted to be married; happily married if possible with two or three children. He had been brought up to believe that that was the role of a woman; to care for her husband and children and to be a helpmate and partner rather
than a leader in the marriage. Apart from the more eccentric women, of course, who became doctors or judges or members of Parliament; professions that he believed rightly belonged to men. He had realised, though, as he grew older, that his parents’ marriage had not always been ideally happy, but his mother had been a devoted wife, and even now, a few years after his father’s death, she seemed contented with her lot in the world.

As he watched Maisie, as Prince Charming, dancing with the little fair-haired girl – Celia James, according to the programme – who was playing Cinderella, he found it hard to believe that she was still only fifteen years of age. In fact, whenever he thought about this it gave him quite a jolt. She was a vivid contrast to the girl she was partnering; inches taller and more vivacious in her sparkling prince’s outfit, which had been made by her mother, she had told him, specially for this ballroom scene. The fitted tunic showed off the curves of her maturing breasts, and the short trousers revealed a pair of long and shapely legs; Ted had to force his eyes to look away.

‘This is a lovely way to spend an evening…’ they were singing as they twirled around the simulated ballroom, Maisie’s rich melodious voice contrasting nicely with the sweet and gentle tones of Celia. She, too, was a very pretty girl, Ted realised, in her silver and white ballgown, though in a less dramatic way than Maisie. He knew that soon the dance would
come to an end and that she would run away and lose her glass slipper…

A down-to-earth and commonsensical farm worker though he was, Ted was finding himself strangely fascinated by this romantic story, even though he knew it was only play-acting and that he was acquainted with most of the cast in their more workaday lives. His sister, Doris, was a scream and had had him laughing till his sides ached, as she danced and sang a riotous ‘Knees up Mother Brown’ number with the other ‘ugly sister’, the usually polite and reserved Brian Milner. They both wore huge coloured wigs, Doris’s orange and Brian’s yellow, blue and white striped stockings, and voluminous red bloomers showing beneath their garishly-hued dresses.

Another surprise of the evening was Audrey Fairchild, the rector and his wife’s adopted daughter who, until now, could never be persuaded to show herself on the stage. She was a delightful Fairy Godmother and even managed to sing a solo, ‘When You Wish Upon a Star…’ which had the audience clapping and cheering like mad, to her obvious pleasure, but also to her embarrassment. Unlike Maisie and Doris she was unable to forget that she was, in reality, Audrey Fairchild, and not a Fairy Godmother who could make wishes come true.

The first evening’s performance came to an end and Ted waited in the church hall for Maisie to change into her ordinary clothes to walk home.

‘Well done,’ he said, kissing her on her cheek
when she appeared, bright-eyed and clearly euphoric with the excitement of the evening. ‘You were great, but I knew you would be. I really enjoyed it, all of it.’

‘Mmm…it wasn’t too bad,’ she admitted. ‘There were one or two little things that went wrong; the transformation scene wasn’t as smooth as it might have been, but we’ll get better as we go on… You did say you were coming tomorrow night, didn’t you, Ted? Perhaps you could help with scene shifting, if you don’t mind. We could do with an extra pair of hands, especially in the ballroom scene, getting all the stuff on, the stairs and the flats and all that…’

‘Flats?’ he queried.

‘Yes, that’s what they call the big flat pieces of scenery…’

‘Oh, right; I see; so long as I know. Yes, of course I’ll come and help…’

They did not linger long saying their goodnights; in fact Maisie just kissed him on the cheek before he had a chance to put his arms around her. ‘Ta-ra then, Ted,’ she said. ‘See you tomorrow.’

He realised he might have made one move too many the other night and that probably she was not yet ready to take their relationship a stage further. He was deep in thought as he walked home. Perhaps it would be wise to try and restrain himself a little, until she turned sixteen at any rate. It was not all that long to wait, only four months; he knew her birthday was on the first day of May. It was
Maisie that he wanted; there was no doubt in his mind about that. But maybe he had tried to get too far too soon. In the meantime, though, there was nothing to stop him being friendly with other young folk of his own age, perhaps girls as well as lads…

There was a party in the church hall after the performance had finished on Saturday night, to celebrate the success of the venture. Everyone agreed that it had been a triumph, and Patience and Mrs Hollins, who had been the producers – helped by other members of the Mothers’ Union and their husbands with the costumes and props – basked in well deserved praise. They were already promising that there would be another pantomime next year.

Everyone who had been involved was invited to the party; the cast, even the little ones who had been allowed to stay up extra late, as it was a special occasion, and all the helpers including the scene shifters. Ted had pulled his weight for the last two nights and was very pleased to be invited to the party. It was really more of a ‘bun fight’ with hastily prepared sandwiches and cakes; non-stop chatter, as the highlights of the performances were discussed again and again; and singing – more raucously than usual – of the songs that had been performed in the pantomime.

‘We’ll meet again, don’t know where, don’t know when…’ they chorused, revelling in the wartime
song which seemed destined to be popular for evermore, and rejoicing in the friendships that had formed or been strengthened over the last few weeks, especially during the last three nights.

Ted had not met all of Maisie’s friends, and he was rather reticent about doing so. Two of the girls whom he did know, who sung in the choir with her, were sixth form students and he tended to feel tongue-tied and stupid when he tried to talk to them. Not that they intended to make him feel so; it was just his lack of confidence with people he thought to be cleverer than himself. But when Maisie introduced him to Celia James, the girl who had played Cinderella, he found that he was able to converse with her quite easily.

Celia was eighteen, although at first glance she did not look her age, being small and dainty with an elfin prettiness. Maisie, having introduced them, went over to chat to his sister, Doris and Ivan, who had also been roped in as a scene shifter. Celia told Ted that she had left school at fourteen and that she worked in the office of a textile mill, one of the few that were situated in the bottom of the valley. She was a sensible, down-to-earth girl, Ted decided, ‘with her head screwed on the right way’, as his mother would say. As he talked with her he realised that she was not as young and child-like as she appeared to be on first acquaintance; she was, in fact, quite a woman of the world and one with whom he felt completely at ease.

BOOK: Down an English Lane
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