Families and Friendships (15 page)

It was, on the whole, quite a good show for a small and somewhat insignificant seaside resort. A group of dancers, reminiscent of the Tiller Girls, opened the show, first and second half, their movements perfectly synchronized and their bright smiles never slipping. There were a tenor and a soprano who sang a duet, and performed singly; a comedian with an accompanying stooge; a ventriloquist; a juggling act; a magician – ‘The Magic Malvolio'; and a comedy sketch involving several of the company in different guises. The very small orchestra performed bravely and the audience was very appreciative.

Vera was pleased to see that Debbie was enjoying it; she was keeping a surreptitious eye on her; you could never tell with Debbie. At least she laughed and applauded in the right places, and enjoyed a tub of ice cream with a tiny wooden spoon, at the interval, just as she used to do when she was a little girl.

After they had stood to sing ‘God Save the Queen' there was a dash for the exit. Fortunately Stanley managed to hail a taxi almost straight away, and they were home in no time.

‘Thank you; that was a nice evening,' said Debbie, so meekly and politely that Vera could scarcely believe it. ‘I'm off to bed now if you don't mind.' She actually went so far as to kiss them both on the cheek before dashing upstairs.

Vera made a cup of Ovaltine for herself and Stanley, and they sat and chatted for a little while although it was long past their usual bedtime.

‘Well, that was a great success, wasn't it?' said Stanley. ‘She seems like a different girl.'

Vera pondered that ‘seems' was the operative word, but she agreed with her husband. ‘Yes, she's certainly in a better frame of mind.'

‘Happen she's realizing that what we say about school an' all that makes sense, eh pet?'

‘Let's hope so,' said Vera. ‘Best not to mention it again, though, too soon. We'll give it a day or two, then we really must try to make her understand that we want her to make the most of her opportunities.'

‘Aye …' Stanley nodded, smiling contentedly. ‘I reckon she'll make us proud of her in the end, our little lass.'

Yes, maybe she would, eventually, thought Vera to herself. But she suspected that there might be all kinds of problems ahead before that day arrived.

When Debbie returned to work the next day she was relieved that Kevin was more like his old self. She had thought for an awful moment the previous day that he was tiring of her. He met her at the gate as she alighted from her bicycle and walked up the path with her.

‘Well, did you enjoy yourself last night?' he asked. ‘Your evening out with Mummy and Daddy?' His eyes twinkled mischievously.

‘Yes, I did, actually,' she answered. ‘We had a fabulous meal that made up for the show; that was a bit of a bore, to be honest. You'd have laughed, though, Kevin. My dad got in a right pickle about giving the waitress a tip, and my mum was as red as a beetroot. They're really not used to dining out an' all that. I couldn't stop giggling.'

He looked at her sharply. ‘I expect they did their best, Debbie. Don't be such a snob.'

‘I'm not! How can you say that?' she retorted. ‘I told you … it was very nice. I said thank you to them. But if they think I'm going to fall in with all their ideas just because they've taken me out for a meal, they can think again!'

‘All right, all right! Don't get your knickers in a twist!' He pushed at her playfully. ‘I'm looking forward to Carol's party on Saturday. I remember her sister, Sandra, from when I was at Kelder Bank. We were in the same year, not in the same form, though. She was in an A form, not with the thickies, like me.'

‘Yes, Sandra'll be there too,' said Debbie. ‘The party's for her and Carol. Don't run yourself down though, Kevin. Thickies, indeed! You're as good as anybody else … See, I'm not a snob. How can I be?'

‘If you knock about with such as me, you mean?' he smiled.

‘No, I didn't mean that at all! Stop picking me up on everything I say, Kevin.'

He burst out laughing. ‘You're a funny kid, Debbie, you are really! Oh, by the way, my dad wants to see you when you have your break.'

‘What about?'

‘I've no idea. He just asked me to tell you.'

‘OK; see you later then, Kevin.'

‘Yeh … See you, Debs …'

She parked her bicycle in one of the stands and made her way to the garden shop. She was to take a turn there this morning, serving customers from a large range of goods, from cut flowers, seeds and plants, to all sorts of garden requisites. She put on her apple green overall which was the uniform and said hello to Mrs Hill who, seemingly, was also on duty at the shop that day. She helped out where and when she could in the business, as well as seeing to the needs of her home and family.

‘I thought I'd make a few floral decorations this morning,' she said. ‘You can give me a hand, Debbie. I've noticed you're getting quite a flair for it. How about trying one on your own? Choose the container you want, and here's the oasis …'

Debbie set to work with a boat-shaped container into which she placed a block of green oasis. There was a wide variety of seasonal flowers to choose from at the moment. She decided to go for reddish hues, ranging from pale pink to deep crimson and purple; roses, sweet peas, dahlias, small button chrysanthemums, and sweet scented stock. She was pleased that Mrs Hill had asked her to do one on her own. Kevin's mother usually took charge of the arrangements with just a little assistance. They made artificial ones as well, especially in the autumn and at Christmas time when fresh flowers were not so abundant.

Her thoughts wandered as her hands worked deftly, snipping at the blooms and the greenery. She felt a little vexed with Kevin. He had seemed all right at first, then he had laughed at her and made her feel like a stupid child, goodness knows why! And what did his father want with her?

She went to find Mr Hill at eleven o'clock when Mrs Hill sent her for her morning break. ‘That's a superb arrangement, Debbie,' she told her. ‘Well done! I wouldn't be surprised if that's snapped up in no time.' They didn't make all that many arrangements as most people preferred to buy bunches of flowers and make their own displays.

Mr Hill had a cup of coffee waiting for her when she joined him in the office, which was really just an annexe to the living room in the family home, adjacent to the garden centre.

‘Hello there, Debbie,' he greeted her. ‘Sit down, pet. Here; have a biscuit.' She took one from the plate of chocolate digestives.

‘Now, I've a little favour to ask of you,' he began. ‘We've got a new girl starting on Monday, and I wondered if you would take her under your wing and help her to settle in. She's a bit shy, you see; but she's really keen and she's got such an affinity with plants, like you have. She's the daughter of a friend of ours; she's just left school and this will be an ideal job for her. Especially as you'll be leaving us soon, won't you, when you go back to school? It's been great having you here for the whole of the summer holidays, but we need someone to take your place … Is something the matter, Debbie?'

She realized that her dismay must show on her face. She had been so happy this morning, working with the flowers. Mrs Hill had complimented her, and she felt she was where she wanted to be, surrounded by plants and flowers, things of the earth; helping to nurture them and make them grow. The idea of another girl coming along and taking her place was … well, it was something she couldn't imagine at all. She knew she had been wavering about returning to school since she had got those good results, but this had brought her streak of determination – it might be called stubbornness – to the fore.

‘Er … I hadn't actually decided about going back to school,' she said.

‘Hadn't you?' Mr Hill looked at her in surprise. ‘Why not, Debbie? You're such a clever girl, and you've got a great future ahead of you. I met your father not long ago, and he was telling me how proud they are of you, and how they were looking forward to you going to college one day …'

‘Oh yes, my parents!' She shook her head crossly and almost stamped her feet. ‘But that's just their idea …' She looked at him pleadingly. Surely he would understand. ‘I like working here, Mr Hill,' she went on, ‘and I was thinking that I might be able to go on working here all the time. I mean … you did say once, didn't you, that you'd give me a full-time job?'

‘Did I?' He looked surprised. ‘Well, yes … I suppose I might have said something of the sort, but I only meant that I would if I could. But a job like this is not for the likes of you, Debbie, We'd still want you during the holidays, of course; that is, if you'd like to carry on with us?'

‘Yes, I might …' replied Debbie. ‘I must have misunderstood you. It's just that I'm doing exactly the job I want to do; working with plants, an' all that. I can't imagine wanting to do anything else.'

‘There's nothing to stop you making a proper career of it,' said Mr Hill. ‘There are all sorts of openings for a clever girl like you. You can take courses and degrees in horticulture and agriculture. Or have you thought about landscape gardening? My wife tells me you've an eye for design and colour. Would something like that appeal to you?' He smiled understandingly at her; she could see he was trying to help.

She smiled back, nodding her head. ‘Yes, maybe it would …' She knew she must hide her disappointment and her annoyance that other people thought they knew best about what she should or shouldn't do. Besides, it wouldn't do to make Mr Hill aware of the other – not so nice – side to her nature, what her mother called ‘nowtiness'.

‘Anyway,' Mr Hill went on, ‘your love of gardening will always be there, won't it? Whatever job – or career, I should say – you take up, it would still be there as a hobby. There's nothing quite so pleasurable as watching things grow.'

‘Yes, thank you, Mr Hill,' she answered politely. ‘And I'll look after the new girl for you; what is she called?'

‘Julie,' he said. ‘Julie Harper. Like I said, she's just left school. Not your school; she went to the secondary modern, but she's a bright little girl. She'll just need a bit of encouragement, that's all. Now, I'll leave you to finish your coffee in peace … Thanks for everything, Debbie. You're a great help to us here, you know.'

But you can manage quite well without me, she thought. She was still feeling miffed, and now she was to act as nursemaid to this new girl. She put on a cheerful face, though, when she returned to the shop; and she was gratified when her floral arrangement was sold, not long afterwards, to a posh lady who said it would make a lovely table centre for a dinner party she was having.

Kevin appeared at the shop when it was time for his midday break, and they found a sunny spot to eat their sandwiches together. At least he had come to find her, she reflected. Maybe he was regretting being so peculiar with her earlier.

‘What did my dad want?' he asked.

‘Nothing much,' she shrugged.

‘He must have wanted something,' he persisted.

‘Oh, all right, then. He asked me if I'd look after some new girl that's starting here on Monday. Julie … something or other.'

‘Oh yes; Julie Harper. She's a nice kid; a bit on the quiet side, though. But you'll bring her out of her shell, won't you?'

‘I might,' she answered. ‘It all depends on whether we like one another, doesn't it?' Then, aware that her ill humour was getting the better of her, she decided to change the subject. ‘I'm really looking forward to the party on Saturday,' she said. ‘Will you call for me Kevin, or shall we meet outside the hotel?'

‘No, I'll call for you,' said Kevin. ‘I was thinking I might borrow my dad's car and go in style … but perhaps better not, eh? There'll be drinks laid on, won't there? Best not to drink and drive. Anyway, it's doubtful if he'd lend it me.'

Nobody could accuse Kevin of being reckless, Debbie pondered. ‘Perhaps we could have a taxi,' she suggested. ‘I know it's not all that far to walk, but I'll be wearing my new dress, and might be raining, you never know.'

‘OK then. Anything Your Ladyship wants.' He made a mock bow at her. ‘I'll come round for you in a taxi. About half past seven?'

‘Yes; thanks, Kevin.' She smiled at him; he really was trying to please her. ‘I don't know all that much about the party except that's it at the hotel that Carol's parents own. Carol says they're having a band. I expect there'll be drinks, although a lot of us aren't eighteen yet, are we?'

‘You speak for yourself; I am!' said Kevin. ‘I'll look after you. I dare say Mr Robson'll get round the licensing laws as it's a family party, and no doubt he'll keep an eye on what's going on.'

‘It's a fabulous hotel,' said Debbie. ‘Carol's parents must be loaded.'

Sandylands was, in fact, one of the largest hotels on the promenade of Whitesands Bay. It was privately owned by Mr and Mrs Robson, the parents of Carol, who was in the same form as Debbie, and Sandra, two years older, who had just finished her two years in the sixth form and planned to go to Durham University in September. Her recent A level results had made this a certainty.

To celebrate their daughters' successes their parents had agreed to throw a party for their friends at school and elsewhere, although most of them did attend Kelder Bank. Debbie had been delighted to be sent an invitation, especially as it said she could take someone else along with her, who would, of course, be Kevin. Shirley and Ryan were also invited. There would be around fifty in all, mainly from the fifth and sixth forms of Kelder Bank.

Mr and Mrs Robson had agreed to keep just a cursory eye on the proceedings from time to time, to make sure that things were not getting out of hand. But they trusted that their girls would invite only those who would behave themselves, and Carol and Sandra had agreed with this. The hotel had a good reputation; the functions held there were always first class affairs, and the same guests came back year after year for holidays to enjoy the hospitality of a family run hotel.