Janice had found employment quite soon after finishing her catering course. There were hundreds of hotels along the promenade, and many more, some still known as boarding houses, in the streets just a little way inland, particularly in the area near the tower. Many of them were looking for staff.
Streets such as Adelaide Street and Albert Road were part of the boarding house hinterland near to Central Station, where many of the same visitors came back year after year. If you should walk along these streets, and many similar ones, in the late afternoon, you would see, in every window, the tables laid, almost identically, ready for ‘high tea’. A three-tiered cake stand held bread and butter, maybe scones, and a selection of ‘fancies’, such as cream cakes, iced buns, almond slices, jam tarts. There would also be a large cruet set, a bottle of salad cream and maybe tomato or HP sauce, depending on what the meal consisted of that teatime, which might be salad and boiled ham or fish and chips.
Many boarding houses and smaller hotels still served three meals a day: cooked breakfast, midday dinner – the main meal of the day – and ‘high tea’. Many of the larger hotels, however, now provided bed and breakfast and an evening meal, leaving the visitors free for the whole of the day and also giving staff more time to prepare the three-course evening meal.
It was at one of these larger hotels that Janice was working throughout the summer and the autumn of 1957. It was not as prestigious or as well known as the Imperial, the Metropole or the Savoy hotels. It was a family concern which had passed through three generations and Janice loved the friendly atmosphere that pervaded the place. The staff were happy, working in congenial surroundings, and so the guests were happy too, enjoying a holiday which was almost a home from home but with that touch of luxury that one did not get in the smaller establishments. To Janice it felt almost like working back at home in her mother’s hotel, the Florabunda. Lilian Butler had always created a happy atmosphere, but here at Summerlands it was slightly more splendid.
The proprietors were Mr and Mrs Summers. George Summers was the chef and his wife, Evie, was in charge of the management and accounts. They also employed an assistant chef – a man in his mid-twenties – and they were pleased to employ Janice as an additional chef to bring new ideas for pastries and puddings, although she had explained that she might not be there for very long. Mr Summers seemed keen to encourage her in her ambition to become more proficient in her particular skill. During the summer months they would be serving fancy gateaux and pastries, and he was looking to Janice to expand this side of their cuisine. And she, of course, was delighted to be working at something she really enjoyed, and this time being paid to do so.
The hotel was on the promenade close to the North Pier, and she cycled there each morning or afternoon, depending on which shift she was working – early morning to mid-afternoon or afternoon till ten thirty at night. Her work was flexible; she helped to cook the breakfasts, occasionally served in the small bar area and assisted with the preparation and serving of the suppertime drinks for those guests who enjoyed the comfort of the lounge in the evening.
The only snag to her otherwise ideal working life was that she hardly ever saw Phil. He had been to Blackpool a few times as he could more easily be spared from his work at the Coach and Horses. His father knew he was only marking time there anyway. Janice had only managed one weekend in Yorkshire at a time when Summerlands was relatively quiet.
Phil was still looking for a suitable business, but so far had found nothing that would suit their requirements.
‘We can’t go on waiting for ever, love,’ he said, as they strolled along the promenade one night in October. Janice had been on an early shift and they were taking advantage of her free time to take a look at the Illuminations, which stretched from Squire’s Gate in the south of town up to Bispham at the north end, where there was a spectacular display of tableaux on the cliffs.
‘No, we can’t,’ agreed Janice. ‘We said we would arrange our wedding when we had found somewhere to live and work, but it’s taking too long.’
‘Far too long,’ said Phil, drawing her close to him and kissing her. ‘We never have the chance to be really alone, do we? Not like when we went to Val and Sam’s party…’
Janice smiled to herself. That had been wonderful, but since then there had not been an opportunity for them to be together in that way. They felt restricted by the presence of parents, even though they were engaged and waiting to be married.
‘There’s no sense in waiting any longer,’ Phil went on. ‘We could get married now… well, as soon as we can arrange it. And then you could come and live at our place, just for the time being. We could both look for somewhere, together.’
‘Yes, I think we should,’ said Janice. ‘We must! Or else we could carry on like this for ever. It’s all gone very quiet at home. Dad never asks me about our plans, and as for Ian… Well, you can see what he’s like, can’t you?’
‘Yes… he’s not all that happy about everything, is he?’
‘He cheered up, though, when he knew you were coming this weekend. He looks on you as a big brother, you know, and that’s the way it should be. But he never asks me when we’re getting married. Maybe he thinks that if he doesn’t talk about it, it will all go away and everything will just carry on the way it is now.’
‘Norma won’t go away, though, will she?’ said Phil. ‘That’s something that Ian will have to get used to, I’m afraid.’
‘I suppose you can’t blame him,’ said Janice. ‘He was quite happy, just him and Dad, and me there, of course, to look after them. I know he still misses Mum, but he did seem to be getting more used to her not being there.’
‘Let’s see… it’s about eighteen months since your mum died, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, thereabouts. I must admit I was rather surprised myself when Dad started talking about this Norma. Just casually at first, then I realised there might be something going on. Dad’s still young, though. He’s not fifty yet, and I suppose we can’t expect him to stay on his own for ever.’
‘Do you think he will marry her?’
‘I’ve no idea. He sees her at the club and they go to the cinema occasionally. She’s only been to our place once but I think Dad spends quite a bit of time at hers. She lives not far away, just off Whitegate Drive. Anyway, you’ll meet her yourself tomorrow. Dad’s invited her for Sunday tea, seeing that I’m on early shift. I suppose he thinks there’s safety in numbers!’
Janice had met Norma Williams for the first and only time a month ago. Alec had been very guarded about mentioning her coming round that Sunday at first, then he had decided to take the bull by the horns.
‘I’ve invited a friend for tea on Sunday,’ he had said to Janice late one night when Ian had gone up to bed. ‘Er… you know I’ve got quite friendly with a lady at the club, don’t you, love?’
‘Yes, Dad,’ she’d replied. ‘I’ve heard you mention her. She’s called Norma, isn’t she?’
‘Yes, that’s right. She’s just a friend, that’s all. She’s widowed, like I am, about the same age as me. She’s very nice and friendly. I think… well, I hope you’ll like her.’
‘That’s OK, Dad,’ she’d replied, not over-effusively. ‘I’m on an early shift so I’ll make us a nice tea. I’m making special gateaux for the guests for Saturday so I’ll bring some pieces home… there’s always far too much. We must make a good impression, mustn’t we? And there’s a tin of roast ham—’
‘You don’t mind, do you, Janice?’
‘No, of course not. Why should I? I know you’ll always love Mum, won’t you?’
Alec’s eyes had misted a little. ‘Your mother was one in a million. I could never replace her. But I can’t be sad for ever, love. Lilian wouldn’t have wanted that.’
Janice had nodded. ‘I’ll leave you to tell Ian.’
It had not gone down too well with Ian. Alec had told his son he had invited a guest for Sunday tea.
‘Oh, who is it?’ Ian had asked. ‘Is it somebody I know?’
‘No… It’s a lady I met at the club. A very nice lady who works in the bar there…’
‘A barmaid?’
‘No, not really. She just helps to serve the drinks. She’s a member of the club. A lot of ladies are members as well as men. Some of them come with their husbands but she’s on her own, like I am.’
‘But you’re not on your own, Dad, are you? You’ve got me and Janice.’
Alec had sighed. ‘You know what I mean, Ian. Look… she’s just somebody I’ve got friendly with. You invite your friends home, don’t you? And so does Janice.’
‘OK, then,’ Ian had said with a shrug. ‘It’s all right, I suppose. I’ll be playing football on Sunday afternoon, though.’
‘Well, don’t be late then. Janice will have tea ready for five o’clock.’
Alec had then had a quiet word with Janice. ‘I feel there might be trouble with Ian. I don’t think he would be rude to Norma – he’s never been that sort of a lad – but I sense a feeling of resentment.’
‘It’s only to be expected, Dad, if you think about it.’
‘Yes, maybe so. I’m trying to understand, but I don’t want Norma to feel uncomfortable. Do you think you could have a word with him?’
‘I’ll try, Dad,’ she’d answered.
Ian had been very non-committal when she’d spoken to him. ‘I’ve told Dad I’m playing football. I don’t see why I should stop what I’m doing just because he’s invited this woman to tea.’
‘I know that, Ian… and I agree with you. But don’t be late back, will you? And just try to be polite. Dad’s had a bad time and he misses Mum just as much as we do.’
‘Doesn’t seem like it…’
‘Well, let’s just see what she’s like, shall we? Dad’s a quiet sort of chap and I’m sure he wouldn’t make friends with someone who wasn’t… well, suitable, if you know what I mean.’
Janice had prepared a good meal for that Sunday tea. There was always a tin of roast ham in the cupboard which made a satisfying meal with salad: lettuce, tomatoes grown locally on Marton Moss, cucumber, radishes and hard boiled eggs. Bread and butter, both brown and white, homemade scones which Janice had baked during the little spare time she had and a choice of coffee or strawberry gateau with fresh cream – the same that was being served to the guests at Summerlands. They were using the best lace tablecloth and the china tea service which was only used on special occasions.
Norma Williams had arrived at half past four in her own little Morris car. Janice, busy in the kitchen, heard her father welcome her and take her into the front room – the best room, used to entertain guests at Christmas or on occasions such as this.
After a moment or two Janice had taken off her apron and gone to meet her father’s friend. She’d had no idea at all what to expect. When she entered the room her father had stood up, smiling broadly.
‘Janice,’ he’d said, ‘this is Mrs Williams… Norma, this is my daughter, Janice.’
The woman had stood up as well. She looked, as her dad had said, very nice and friendly, as far as one could tell from a first glance. She’d held out her hand. ‘Hello, Janice. Your dad has told me a lot about you and it’s good to meet you… at last.’ She’d smiled, raising her eyebrows slightly as she spoke the last two words. Janice guessed her father had been shilly-shallying for a while.
‘Good to meet you too, Mrs Williams,’ she’d replied.
‘Oh, that sounds very formal! Please, call me Norma.’ She had not seemed at all shy, and she’d squeezed Janice’s hand as if to reassure her that everything was OK. She was dark-haired with brown eyes, and Janice was glad that she did not resemble her mother, who had been fair-haired and blue-eyed. She was slim and possibly a shade taller than Alec. Not beautiful – her features were rather angular – but certainly most attractive and smartly dressed in a dark red, silky, rayon suit with high-heeled patent leather shoes.
‘Er… sit down and get to know one another,’ Alec had said.
They’d chatted together easily enough. Janice had learnt that Norma worked as a chief assistant in the dress department of RHO Hills, one of the town’s leading stores. She was interested in Janice’s choice of career and the plans that she and Phil had for the future.
‘So you’ll be getting married soon?’ she’d enquired.
‘We’re not sure. It all depends…’ Janice had stopped talking as Ian burst into the room. Janice wondered how he would react.
He’d looked at the newcomer. ‘Oh… hello,’ he’d said, nodding at her.
‘Ian, this is Mrs Williams,’ Alec had told him. ‘Norma, this is my son, Ian.’
Norma had looked up and smiled at him but had not stood up and held out her hand as she had done with Janice. Maybe she’d sensed a certain reticence in the lad and had not wanted to draw attention to it. ‘Hello, Ian,’ she’d said in a pleasant voice.
‘Hello,’ he’d repeated abruptly. ‘I’m just going to take off my mucky things or I’ll be in trouble.’
‘Been playing football?’ she’d enquired.
‘Yeah, that’s right. What else?’ There’d been an awkward silence for a moment as he left the room.
‘Do you have any children, Norma?’ Janice had asked, rather diffidently.
‘One daughter, that’s all,’ she’d replied. ‘She’s married and lives down south, so I don’t see a great deal of her.’
‘Ian’s a good lad,’ Alec had said defensively. ‘At a difficult age, though, or so people tell me. He’s fourteen – a clever lad, doing well at school, but he lives for football. That’s OK, so long as he does his homework and everything.’
‘Tea’s almost ready.’ Janice had changed the subject. ‘I’ll go and brew the tea and give Ian a shout.’
That first tea had not been a rip-roaring success. Janice had done her best to support her father and to make Norma feel at ease. She’d asked her about her job at the department store, which Norma seemed to enjoy very much.
‘I’ve been there for ten years,’ she’d said. ‘I’ve always done shop work, ever since I left school. One bonus at Hill’s is that we get a discount on the clothes we buy.’
Janice had admired her suit and told her that she looked very smart and modern. Ian had taken no notice, eating his way unconcernedly through the ham and salad and the strawberry gateau.
Norma had tried, unsuccessfully, to bring him into the conversation. ‘This is all girls’ talk, isn’t it, Ian? You go to watch Blackpool play every Saturday, I suppose?’
‘Yeah, most of the time.’ He had scarcely looked up from his plate.
‘So… who’s your favourite player? Stanley Matthews, I suppose?’
‘No, Stan Mortensen,’ he’d answered briefly.
‘And what about you? Would you like to play for a team like Blackpool?’
‘No, of course not!’ he’d said scornfully. ‘I’m not a stupid little kid. It’s just something I do with my mates.’
‘And you play football at school?’
‘No… they play rugby,’ he’d answered resignedly, as if to say, ‘anything else you’d like to know?’
Janice had been glad when the meal came to an end. Ian had gone out again, almost at once, to play chess with his friend, Gary. Norma had offered to help with the washing-up but Janice had refused. She’d been glad to be on her own. It had been rather a strain and she’d felt sorry for her dad.
Now, a month later, Norma was invited for tea again. This time Phil would be there as well. But before that, quite late on the Saturday night, they told Alec about their marriage plans.
He looked rather taken aback at first, although it surely could not have been a great surprise. ‘What do you mean by quite soon?’ he asked. ‘Before Christmas?’
‘Well, not quite as soon as that,’ replied Janice. Phil would have liked it to be as soon as possible, but she did not really want a wedding in the coldest time of the year.
They settled on Saturday, 12 April, which seemed a long way away, but weddings – and her father had insisted that she have a really good one – could not be arranged in five minutes. Easter Sunday would be on 6 April, a time when the hotels in Blackpool would be busy, then there would be a slight lull until Whitsuntide.
‘I knew you’d have to leave sometime,’ said Alec. ‘It makes sense for you to go and live in Ilkley until you find somewhere of your own. I’ll miss you, though, and so will Ian… very much. But he’ll have to get used to changes, won’t he?’
Janice was working the early shift the following morning. Mr Summers let her finish at twelve o’clock as he knew that Phil was in Blackpool. When Janice told George and Evie that they had fixed a wedding date, they suggested at once that they should hold the reception at Summerlands. ‘That is, if you want to, of course,’ added Evie. ‘George and I would be delighted.’
‘That’s a wonderful idea,’ said Janice, and her father and Phil agreed.
Ian went silent when Janice told him they had fixed their wedding date. He stared down at the floor then looked at her pleadingly. ‘I don’t want you to go,’ he said gruffly. He was dry-eyed, though; Ian seldom cried.
‘Oh, come on, old pal,’ said Phil. ‘You knew it would happen sometime. And we’ve told you, you can come and stay with us, watch Leeds United and Sheffield Wednesday… We won’t be all that far away. Janice and I can’t wait for ever, you know.’ He spoke to him confidingly. ‘You’ll know, one day, when you have a girlfriend. I love Janice and we want to be together.’
‘Yes, I know that,’ said Ian. ‘But you know why, don’t you?’ He lowered his voice, although his father had gone out into the garden. ‘It’s Dad… and her!’
‘Norma’s a very pleasant lady,’ said Janice. ‘I can understand how you feel but Dad would never do anything to hurt you. He’d never neglect you, you know that, Ian.’
‘But he’s different now…’
Janice sighed. ‘He’s happier now, Ian. He goes out more, I know that, but you don’t want him to go on being miserable, do you?’
‘Well, I just don’t like her!’ said Ian. His mouth was set in a grim line. ‘I know you think she’s very nice but I don’t want her here!’
‘Well, she’s coming for tea,’ said Janice, ‘and I have to go and get it ready. Ian… just try to be reasonable and polite, will you, just for me? Please… I do understand, really I do.’
‘OK, then,’ he replied with a shrug.
And, to her relief, he was as good as his word. The meal passed without any overt silences or awkwardness. The conversation was mainly about the forthcoming wedding. Norma was keen to know all the details, which Janice and Phil were not yet sure of themselves, and she even offered to help Janice choose her wedding dress.