Sally was listening to the radio as she helped her mother clear the table and wash the supper dishes with hot water and soap powder. It was a music programme and they were playing all the popular tunes of the last few years. She hummed one of the latest hits and then started to sing the words: ‘Maybe it’s because I’m a Londoner …’
‘Sally, can I borrow your blue dress tomorrow?’ Brenda asked, entering the kitchen, her hair in wire curlers and wearing only her pink rayon pyjamas. ‘I’ve got to see the office manager first thing Monday and I think I may be in line for promotion. If he makes me a secretary rather than just one of the typing pool I’ll get a rise and I’ll take you to the flicks.’
‘You don’t have to bribe me,’ Sally said. ‘Of course you can wear my best dress, Bren – but don’t get ink all over it.’
‘You’re a love,’ Brenda laughed and grabbed her about the waist as a dance tune came on the radio, waltzing her round the kitchen. ‘The office manager is absolutely dishy. I should love to work for him.’
‘I thought you were going out with that chap from the accountant’s office?’
‘I am sort of, but it isn’t serious,’ Brenda said. ‘It’s a bit like you and that apprentice plumber. Why don’t you go around with him any more?’
‘Keith doesn’t come round any longer, because we quarrelled. Besides, I don’t think of him as anything but a friend.’
‘You don’t mind that he doesn’t come, do you?’
‘No, not a bit. It was fun going out with him for a while, but I’m not in love with him.’
‘Good, because I saw him out with another girl. He was in the queue at the Rex last week and they seemed to be very lovey-dovey.’
‘Oh, well, good luck to him and her,’ Sally said. ‘I really don’t mind what he does, Bren.’
‘Is it Mr Markham?’ Brenda whispered confidentially as their mother hung the tea towel over the kitchen range to dry.
‘You know I think a lot of him, but he hasn’t said anything definite yet. We’re still getting to know one another, Bren.’ Sally turned her head so that her sister couldn’t see her face. She was falling deeper and deeper in love with Andrew every time they met, but although he’d told her he liked her an awful lot, and he’d kissed her a few times, she wasn’t sure if it was more than a flirtation on his part. Sally sometimes felt that he was the one and longed for him to tell her he loved her as much as she loved him, but she knew he was way above her and it seemed unlikely that he could really be serious about her.
‘I hope you’re not falling for him,’ Brenda said. ‘You know it would never work, don’t you? He isn’t our sort. The folks wouldn’t like it – they wouldn’t feel comfortable asking a man like that to tea, let alone seeing him married to their daughter.’
‘Stop being daft,’ Sally said, although she knew her sister was right. Dad had seemed to get on all right with Andrew when he’d called round to take her out, but her mum had made it plain she didn’t approve. ‘I’m tired and I’m going to bed.’
She snapped off the radio, feeling out of sorts with her sister. Brenda was just being priggish. What did it matter if they did come from a different class to Andrew? Besides, there was never going to be anything between them so it was all nonsense. As she’d told her sister, she admired Andrew for his work with the children and as a surgeon. The fact that his smile turned her insides to mush was neither here nor there.
She pushed the silly ideas Brenda’s words had aroused to the back of her mind and went up to bed. They were busy at St Saviour’s and she had another long day ahead of her in the morning.
‘Hi, Michelle,’ Sally said when she went up to the sick room with a parcel containing sterilised dressings and various medications that had been delivered the following morning. ‘Sister said you needed these so I brought them up. How are you? I haven’t seen you for a chat for ages. I wondered if you’d like to go to the flicks one night.’
‘Yes, why not? I should like to see The Ghost and Mrs Muir – it’s the new Cary Grant film and I like him. I think that might be fun.’
‘Yes, I’d like to see that,’ Sally agreed. ‘When shall we go?’
‘What about tomorrow?’
‘That suits me. I don’t have a class that night. I’ll bring a change of clothes and we’ll go straight after work. Have a cup of coffee somewhere first, perhaps?’ She hesitated, then, ‘Are you worried about anything? Only you’ve seemed a bit quiet lately.’
‘My father isn’t well,’ Michelle said. ‘He has a bad cough, that’s all.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry about that,’ Sally said, accepting her word, though she had a feeling there was more. ‘I’ll see you on Tuesday, then?’
‘Lovely,’ Michelle agreed. ‘I shall have to get on. I need to check these supplies and then I have a dressing to do. Jilly Watkins has a nasty sore on her leg and I’m afraid it might turn septic.’
‘Poor little thing; I’ll leave you to it. I’m glad we had a chat,’ Sally said and left her to get on with her work. Michelle was friendly enough, but she obviously had something on her mind, but whatever it was she didn’t intend to share it.
Sally wondered if it concerned Alice, because she’d noticed that the other carer hadn’t been paying as much attention to her work recently as she ought, and perhaps Michelle had noticed too. Sally would have liked to ask Alice what was wrong, but didn’t like to intrude.
Oh, well, it wasn’t her problem. She’d better get on with her own work or she’d be the one in trouble! And the last thing she needed was to lose her job.
Sally was reading to the children when the door of the schoolroom opened and Mr Markham entered quietly so as not to interrupt her, but the children had seen him and started to whisper, giggling and looking at each other excitedly. Sally finished her story and closed her book.
‘Children, say hello to Mr Markham.’ Her heart jerked as she saw the little expression of expectation on his lips, and she felt the happiness dancing inside her. How handsome he looked with his soft, slightly overlong hair and that teasing smile, but she had to behave as if he were just another staff member and stop herself wanting to laugh for the pleasure of seeing him.
‘Hello, Mr Markham,’ they chorused and looked expectant. Then one little boy piped up, ‘Have you come to tell us a story?’
‘Well, I do happen to have a copy of my latest book about the Big Hairy Spider …’
Cries of delight greeted his announcement and then absolute hush as he took a seat next to Sally and opened the large picture book. His story finished, he left them to peruse the latest book and puzzle, and he joined Sally as she stood by the window, her face half-turned from him. His nearness sent her senses spinning but she forced herself to act naturally.
‘Perhaps we could go somewhere this evening?’
Sally felt a crushing disappointment as she said, ‘I have evening class tonight. I’m sorry …’
‘What time does it end?’
‘Eight thirty.’
‘I’ll meet you and we’ll go for a snack somewhere. Perhaps some of those excellent fish and chips we once shared?’
‘Yes, lovely, thank you,’ Sally said and blushed as she became aware that the children were watching.
‘Say thank you to Mr Markham, children.’
‘This evening, then,’ he said and walked to the door.
The children chorused their thanks and he left them, sending Sally what she thought of as his special smile. He really was a lovely man and he did seem to like her, which made her happy. It was the odd the way his smile made her heart beat faster and her tummy tumble with excitement, because no one had ever made her feel like that before.
Her thoughts turned for a moment to her future, because she wasn’t sure if her hopes of becoming a nurse would ever come true. With the present state of her father’s finances she simply could not afford all the books she would need.
She sighed deeply as the bell rang and she ushered the children into the dining room to drink their milk. She was an idiot to feel this way about Andrew Markham, because, as Brenda had told her, nothing could ever come of it – their worlds were too far apart.