Live the Dream

‘Am I glad to see you!’ Daisy was already waiting in Blackburn town centre as Amy disembarked from the tram. ‘I’ve been waiting here for ages.’ Linking arms with her friend, Daisy was talkative as usual. ‘You should have seen this good-looking fella just now,’ she sighed. ‘He weren’t nearly as handsome as our Tuesday man, but I wouldn’t mind having him for a sweetheart.’

Amy laughed. ‘How do you know he hasn’t already got a sweetheart?’

‘I expect he has,’ Daisy groaned. ‘I expect every decent, good-looking man has already been claimed.’ The long-drawn-out sigh came from her very soul. ‘I can see I’m destined to grow old and miserable and never know what it’s like to have a fella of my own.’

Something in Daisy’s voice and manner told Amy things weren’t right. ‘What’s the matter?’ Drawing her to a halt, Amy asked gently, ‘There’s something wrong at home, isn’t there?’ She remembered Daisy’s barely concealed unhappiness at the café last Tuesday morning.

Daisy lowered her gaze. ‘How do you know that?’

Amy always knew. ‘Well, for one thing, I got here at the time we arranged, and yet you said you’d been waiting ages for me.’

Daisy nodded. ‘Well, if you must know, there’s hell going on at home,’ she admitted in a trembling voice. ‘That’s why I came out early, to wait for you.’

‘Have you had anything to eat?’

Daisy shook her head.

‘OK!’ Glancing about, Amy was relieved to see the hot-potato stand was here as usual. ‘The first thing we do is get you something to eat. Then we’ll skip the pictures and find a quiet little place where we can sit and talk.’

Daisy was emphatic. ‘I don’t want to talk.’

‘So, what do you want to do?’

‘Go to the pictures, like we said.’

‘Are you hungry?’

‘I might be.’

‘Well then, we’ve time enough, so it’s hot potatoes first, then the pictures. All right?’

In fact everything was ‘all right’ to Daisy whenever she was with Amy. It was only when she was home with her parents that life was unbearable. The sound of their angry screaming voices still rang in her head. No, she’d make an effort; she wouldn’t let them spoil her evening. Pulling her shoulders back, she straightened her coat and tossed her auburn curls. ‘All right,’ she grinned.

Linking arms again, the two of them went towards the hot-potato stand.

‘Evening, girls.’ A short, round little man in a grey coat, the stallholder resembled one of his own potatoes. ‘Off to the pictures, are you?’

While he served them, he chatted about the weather and told them how pretty they were and flirted outrageously. Daisy responded in a like manner and earned herself an extra large potato, while Amy laughed to see her friend determined to enjoy herself.

Amy paid for the two bags of hot potatoes smothered in salt, and butter, which dripped from the bottom of the bag. ‘Mind it doesn’t get on your coat,’ she urged Daisy, who was tucking in as she walked. ‘You’ll have a terrible job getting it out.’

Seating themselves on a nearby bench, they sat and enjoyed their meal; though Amy was full to bursting, having already had a good dinner. Still, she didn’t confess that to Daisy. Instead, under Daisy’s watchful eye, she ate every bit of her delicious potato.

Delighted to see how Daisy wolfed her food, Amy laughed at the way her friend puffed and blew and complained about how hot it was – ‘It’s burning my bloody mouth!’ But she soon devoured it, skin and all.

Afterwards, with Daisy seeming more content, the two of them took off for the picture house and, feeling too full for words, Amy was thankful for the brisk walk across the square.

The Roxy was a grand-looking place, with plush red seats in the auditorium, thick carpet underfoot, and a man softly playing the organ at the front.

‘There’s two seats along there.’

The usherette shone her torch along the dimly lit row, and carefully as she could, Amy led the way, while behind her she could hear chaos unfolding. When she glanced back it was carnage, with everyone they’d passed bending forward, clutching their poor mangled feet where Daisy had trodden on them.

The silent, hateful glances that followed hastened them to their seats, and Amy, for one, was thankful to sit down.

‘Clumsy devils!’ The last poor man they’d passed appeared to be in agony. ‘If folks would only get here in good time, there’d be none o’ this!’

‘Oh, stop moaning, you miserable sod!’ Giving him a withering glance, Daisy flicked down her seat and almost fell on the floor when it sprang back up. ‘Damned thing!’ By now, Daisy was ready to take on the world.

Amy held the seat down while Daisy plonked her backside on it. ‘Sit down and behave,’ she chuckled, ‘unless you want us to get thrown out.’

Then all was quiet. For the moment.

As always the picture house was full. There were little old folk at the front, families in the middle and sweethearts at the back.

Once or twice Daisy glanced at the sweethearts kissing and canoodling, and twining themselves round each other. ‘Look at them! It’s disgusting!’ she said. But Amy knew how much Daisy would have loved to be seated at the back with a sweetheart wrapped round her.

‘Ssh!’ The woman behind wagged a finger at Daisy. ‘Be quiet!’

Daisy fell silent and for a moment she seemed to be deep in thought; though Amy suspected she was thinking about her parents and the way it was at home.

Luckily, the organ music soon swelled in a crescendo and the film started.

To Amy’s relief, Daisy was soon tapping her feet along with the master of dance, Charles King, and as the film progressed, her whole mood changed. Her eyes shone and her whole body twitched to the music, and for a time she was content and happy in a different world.

Amy too enjoyed the film. It was fast and furious, and all too soon it was the interval.

‘What d’you want, lass?’ Standing up ready to queue for refreshments, Daisy waited for Amy’s answer.

‘Nothing for me, thanks,’ Amy told her. She was still full to bursting.

Daisy shrugged, ‘Suit yourself,’ and off she went, leaving another trail of broken toes and complaining voices as she made her way through.

Having stood in the queue for what seemed an age, Daisy was next to be served. ‘A bag of popcorn please, gal,’ she told the usherette.

‘No popcorn, sorry.’ Grim-faced and fed up, the young woman had no interest in her work. As it happened that very morning, she had been turned down for a job as train-driver. Consequently, she was not in the best of moods.

Brought down by her own problems, Daisy was ready for anything the other woman had to throw at her. ‘So what have yer got then?’ she demanded impatiently.

Adjusting the strap round her neck so as to relieve the weight of her tray, the usherette ran both hands through the array of goodies, muttering as she searched, ‘No popcorn … and I’ve just sold the last of the chocolate bars.’ Wiping her nose with the back end of her cuff, she said wearily, ‘There’s only ice cream left now.’

‘Haven’t yer got no nuts?’ Hopeful, Daisy peered into the tray. ‘I don’t fancy ice cream.’

Angrily making another quick search of the tray, the usherette shook her head. ‘Ice cream. Take it or leave it.’

‘Are you sure there are no nuts in the back-room?’

Laughing aloud at Daisy’s suggestion, the usherette told her, ‘The only “nuts” in there are the manager and his fancy-bit.’