Friends and Lovers Page 3

  Only Dot and her brother Norm seemed to notice Viv as she paused near the foot of the stairs to see who had arrived. Norm wolf whistled but it went unnoticed by most people there because of the music and conversation. George was dancing with a girl in a pink sweater, his expression animated for once. He did not look up.

  As the record ended Norm called. ‘Why not come wiz me to ze casbah and we will make mad passionate amour?’ Dot hit him on the arm but several people looked up in Viv’s direction.

  She felt the blood rush to her face because she had already realised that Dot had been right and that she was overdressed for the occasion. Then she saw Joe come into the room, accompanied by Nick Bryce. Paul Anka started singing ‘I’m so young and you’re so old’.

  How old was Nick Bryce? thought Viv. Twenty-four, twenty-five? She was seventeen. He seemed to vanish, only to materialise suddenly in front of her.

  ‘I like the dress,’ he said and, placing an arm round her waist, pulled her among the dancing couples.

  ‘Thank you.’ So what if she was overdressed? He liked the way she looked and it was her party. ‘I didn’t know you were coming. George never said,’ she murmured.

  His intense blue eyes gazed into hers. ‘That’s because he never asked me. I hope you don’t mind, but when Joe told me you were throwing a party I couldn’t resist gate crashing. I wanted to see you again.’

  She tried to prevent the colour rising in her cheeks. ‘You could have knocked at the door any time.’

  ‘George might have answered and I was warned off the other week. He doesn’t think I’m good enough for you.’

  Viv frowned. ‘He has no say in the matter. It’s up to me to decide whether you’re good enough.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it.’ His mouth quivered slightly. ‘Has he told you anything about me, Viv?’

  ‘Nothing. And I didn’t ask. Your past is your past and nothing to do with me.’

  ‘If we were to get to know each other better then surely you’d want to know more about me?’

  ‘Like you’d want to know about me, I suppose?’ she said lightly.

  ‘I know some things about you. I can give you a few years and I’ve a good memory,’ he said in a teasing voice.

  Viv’s look was questioning. ‘I should remember you if we lived in the same street, shouldn’t I? But I can’t place you at the moment.’

  ‘I moved when you were only four or five. I was at grammar school by then.’ He twirled her round and when they faced each other again, added, ‘I remember your Aunt Flora. I liked her. She was kind.’

  ‘She was lovely,’ agreed Viv, her eyes warm. ‘I’m thinking of going to America soon to stay with her.’

  ‘With her, not your mother?’

  ‘My mother!’ Viv’s expression changed. ‘You can’t remember me as well as you claim to if you think I’d go and stay with her.’ There was a tremor in her voice.

  At that moment George made a sudden appearance, like the demon in a pantomime. ‘What are you doing here?’ he demanded of Nick. ‘You weren’t invited.’

  ‘Don’t fuss,’ said Viv, glancing about them. ‘What’s one more? There’s enough food, and it’s nice to talk to someone from the old street.’

  George’s tawny eyebrows drew together in a ferocious frown and his whole body seemed to bristle. ‘You still haven’t remembered him, have you? The Bryces had a name in our street. She was notorious. There was nobody, but nobody, in our street who didn’t know what she got up to!’

  That’s enough, George,’ said Nick, his expression furious. ‘We’re not kids now and I’d hate to have to shut your mouth.’

  Viv’s gaze travelled swiftly between them. Suddenly the atmosphere could have been sliced with a knife. ‘You’re making a show of us, George. Nick’s our guest so will you let things go! We’ve got people here wanting to enjoy themselves. They’re not going to if you start a fight.’

  George glowered at her. ‘He’s got a reputation, Viv, and I don’t want him messing you about. Just bear that in mind, and if he starts anything …’

  ‘I’m hardly likely to start anything right here in this room,’ snapped Nick, his eyes glinting. ‘Use your commonsense, George!’

  ‘That’s right. He’d pick a quieter place,’ Viv added in a coaxing voice, ‘Now go away and leave me to look after myself. Enjoy the party! It was your idea after all.’

  Before her cousin could say any more she pulled Nick’s arm back round her and started to dance. ‘Many a tear has to fall,’ sang the singer. The music was pure smooch. She felt Nick’s chin rub against her hair. ‘Thanks,’ he murmured. ‘I haven’t had a woman championing me for ages. My gran used to but she died and since then I’ve had to fight my own battles.’

  ‘So has George,’ said Viv quietly. ‘I’m very fond of my cousin, Nick, so don’t start thinking I’m on your side just because I stood up for myself. Whatever’s between the pair of you from the past, I don’t want to be involved.’

  ‘I think you’re what’s between us now,’ he said, smiling slightly. ‘And the past isn’t that easy to put behind you. It has a habit of spilling into the present. Memories can be hard to get rid off. Remember what I said about sticks and stones?’

  ‘They hurt,’ she said with feeling.

  He pressed her closer to him. ‘I remember being skitted at for all kinds of things … like the holes in my pants. I hated being a scruff. Then when I became a college kid and wore a blazer, I was called names for being smart. I couldn’t win.’

  ‘When I went to college I felt like that,’ she murmured. ‘College pud’ I was called. It was as if I’d committed a crime, working-class girl passing the scholarship. I was an outsider in the street and at school, amongst those with money who lived in Stoneycroft and Aigburth and places like that. And then there was my accent. They gave some of us elocution lessons.’

  ‘How now, brown cow?’ said Nick, rounding his vowels.

  She grinned. ‘Our teacher committed suicide. I always worried in case I was the cause of it. It was hard work polishing my vowels.’ She heard him laugh softly but it was true that her teacher had committed suicide and Viv had believed for a while that it was her fault. ‘It wasn’t funny,’ she said soberly.

  ‘My gran made me work on mine.’ His mouth brushed her ear and she shivered. ‘No ‘yeahs’ but ‘yes’. She drove me mad and made life in the street even worse for me. I got into fights. In the end I developed an extra skin and kept my mouth shut. Then I got stones thrown at me.’

  She felt enormous sympathy for him. As he lifted his head and gazed at her it was as if something electric passed between them. ‘It is a hard life,’ she said in droll tones to lighten what suddenly felt like a very serious moment.

  ‘Yes.’ He pulled her closer and they danced on in silence.

  The record came to an end. ‘Perhaps you’d like to dance with someone else?’ she suggested politely.

  ‘Not unless you want me to? I was thinking I’d like to get out of here so that we could talk properly.’

  Her heart seemed to bump in her chest. ‘I have the refreshments to see to.’

  ‘How about a breath of fresh air afterwards?’

  ‘Perhaps.’ She was suddenly thinking about what her cousin had said. Had Nick really got a reputation?

  At that moment Norm came over. ‘Can I have this dance?’ He looked belligerently at Nick.

  ‘Of course,’ said Viv immediately. ‘You’ll excuse me, Nick?’ It would not do to have him think he was the only pebble on her beach.

  ‘I’ll see you later?’

  She nodded and tried not to think about him as Norm chattered in her ear about his newfound prowess on the six-string guitar.

  It was eleven o’clock and plates had been piled into the sink and washed. A few people had left, some still danced in the smoky kitchen but others had drifted into the other room and were gathered about the coal fire, smooching or swopping gossip. Viv was drying her hands on a tea towel when Nick came up to h
er.

  ‘How about that fresh air? I’ll have you back for the witching hour.’

  ‘OK.’ It would be good to get out of the house.

  Frost glistened on pavements and their breath turned to vapour in the light from a street lamp where some teenagers had gathered. ‘Truth, dare, command or promise!’ Viv heard one of them chant as they passed. She remembered the game from when she was younger. She huddled into the warmth of her cherry red winter coat and would have rammed both hands deep into her pockets but Nick took hold of one of them. ‘Truth, dare, command or promise,’ he said softly. ‘The truth is that this is better than being in there or at home,’ he said.

  ‘You can’t possibly dislike your family that much?’ she said, flushing.

  ‘Who says?’ His eyes gleamed.

  She was aware of the warmth of his arm against hers. ‘What have they done?’

  ‘What they’re always doing when I’m around – involving me in their lives. Besides, Mam’s turned all respectable while I’ve been away and it’s exhausting watching her polish everything, including the aspidistra.’

  She smiled but did not look at him. ‘I’m not going to ask you what you mean by that.’

  ‘Truth. I’ll tell you anyway. She wasn’t respectable before. Just like your mother was said not to be.’

  Viv felt a sharp dart of pain pass through her, his mention of her mother had been so unexpected. She made to free her hand. ‘I don’t find that funny,’ she said savagely.

  ‘It wasn’t meant to be.’ He kept a tight hold on her hand and said with a hint of reminiscence, ‘Truth. I think I was probably in love with your mother when I was ten. You could smell her scent from feet away. Californian Poppy it was. You wear Coty’s L’Aimant. I reckoned she bathed in it. You’re more discreet.’ He took her hand and sniffed her wrist before she could prevent him. She gave him a look that should have withered him but did not. ‘I remember you being born,’ he continued. ‘All the women thought your mother would die. She should have gone into hospital, they said.’

  ‘She didn’t want me.’ Viv’s voice sounded like splintered glass and she was horrified that he had caused her to reveal how deeply she felt her mother’s sin.

  ‘There was a war on and she wasn’t married,’ he said in a comforting voice. ‘It must have been terrible for her. Have a heart.’

  ‘I have got a heart! But she shouldn’t have messed around without a ring on her finger.’ She was relieved to have control of her voice once more.

  ‘Some messed around while they had rings,’ he said, squeezing her hand. ‘Don’t you think that’s worse?’

  ‘You’re defending my mother. Why? If you knew what I’ve had to cope with because of her, then …’

  ‘Shush!’ he interrupted ruthlessly. ‘She had to carry the can. What about the man who got away with it?’

  ‘You mean my father?’ She paused and stared at him. ‘Do you remember him?’

  He gazed back at her, unblinking. ‘Don’t you?’

  ‘I’ve never known who he was.’ There was silence. Their footsteps rang on the pavement as Viv wondered about her father. A low sigh escaped her and she looked at Nick. ‘What about your father? Do you miss him?’

  His eyes glinted. ‘Like two broken legs. Fathers aren’t such a big deal in my estimation. Before the war he never bothered with me. During the war he was away fighting. When he came back he took me and my sister Mavis away from Mam. I ran away to Gran’s but he took me back and knocked me black and blue with his leather belt. It had this big buckle on—’ His voice broke off abruptly and she could feel his palm turn damp.

  Viv was shocked. Even so she muttered, ‘Not all fathers are like that. Dot’s dad and Mike, Aunt Flo’s husband, are lovely men.’

  ‘Sure, there’s nice dads around, but give me women any day.’ He gazed into her face. ‘At least my mother, for all her faults, knew how to show affection. She never hit me once. She knew what it was like to be beaten, you see. Not that I realised that until I was older.’

  Viv returned his stare thoughtfully. ‘My mother was never very good at showing affection where I was concerned,’ she said quietly. ‘She always made me feel a nuisance. Eventually she left me with Aunt Flo and went off to America. The last words she said to me were: “Be a good girl and don’t get yourself into trouble.” No hug, no words of love …’ Her voice tailed off.

  ‘Don’t let it get to you. Perhaps she found it difficult to part from you. When are you going to America?’

  ‘For Christmas.’ She squared her shoulders.

  ‘I’d like to see you again before you go.’

  ‘OK.’ She wasn’t about to start being shy now. She wanted to see him but felt that she had to know something first. ‘Is there anyone special in your life, Nick?’

  He smiled. ‘No one. I’d no intention of there being anyone for a long time. My parents’ divorce put me off rushing into marriage.’

  ‘I suppose that’s understandable.’ She cleared her throat and told a partial lie: ‘I’m not keen on marriage either. I want to enjoy being free. I’ve never been able to do just what I want before. There was always Grandfather to worry about.’

  ‘What about George?’

  She frowned. ‘He isn’t my keeper. We’re close and I don’t like upsetting him. He’s been hurt and that’s why he’s over-protective. I don’t think he wants me hurt because he knows what it’s like.’

  Nick was silent and she had a feeling that he did not agree with her. They walked without speaking for a while. It was a silence with undertones. Viv was trying to remember a boy called Nick with a sister called Mavis.

  He said, ‘Do you like jazz and skiffle?’

  ‘I like Acker Bilk and Lonnie Donegan.’

  ‘That’s as good an answer as any. Perhaps you’d like to come out with me tomorrow evening? There’s a session on at the Cavern. Afterwards we could go for a meal.’

  ‘That sounds fine to me.’

  ‘It’s a date then.’ He hesitated as he gazed down at her.

  ‘Now I suppose we’d best get back or George will be waiting on the doorstep with a big stick.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be surprised,’ she said with a sudden mischievous grin.

  Nick was partly right. George stood on the doorstep, leaning against the doorjamb, smoking a cigarette. A scowl crossed his face at the sight of them. ‘Where the hell have you been?’ he rasped. ‘D’you know what time it is?’

  Nick glanced at his watch. ‘It’s the witching hour. Going to turn me into a toad, George?’

  ‘Very funny. It’s late, that’s what I mean. Too late for Viv to be out alone with you.’

  ‘Shut up, George! You sound like a mother hen.’ She pulled a face at him. ‘We’ve only been for a walk. I needed it after being in the house most of the day.’

  His mouth tightened. ‘I was worried about you. You didn’t say where you were going. It was Dot who told me you’d gone with him.’

  Viv slanted a look at Nick and he quirked an eyebrow. She smiled. ‘He has a name. Didn’t you enjoy the party, cousin dear? Didn’t the girl in the pink sweater come up to expectations?’

  George reddened. ‘Barbara’s very nice but that’s beside the point. It was damn rude of you, leaving like that.’

  ‘I suppose it was.’ She sighed. ‘Sorry.’ She turned to Nick. ‘Thanks for your company.’

  ‘Thank you.’ He kissed her lightly on the mouth before releasing her hand. ‘See you tomorrow.’

  She nodded.

  ‘Bye, George,’ said Nick.

  He grunted something incomprehensible before seizing Viv’s arm and propelling her inside the house, slamming the door behind them.

  Viv wrenched her arm free and turned on him. ‘Do you have to be so rude?’

  ‘Rude? Me?’ His face was set in moody lines. ‘Do you know what his mother was?’

  Viv kicked off her shoes and flung her coat on the back of a chair. She sat down. ‘What’s his mother got to do with anythi
ng? It’s Nick I went walking with.’

  ‘You mean you really don’t remember his mother?’

  She rested her head against the back of the chair. ‘You tell me about her, George.’

  ‘She lived next-door to Mam. She was a right tart! Entertained almost the whole of the United Nations. Yanks, Poles, Norwegians. You name them she had it off with them. Then her husband came home from the war.’

  ‘I thought as much,’ said Viv slowly. ‘Nick’s mother is that Mrs Bryce?’

  ‘Yes. She’s that Mrs Bryce.’ His voice dropped as he sat in the chair opposite her. ‘Now do you see what I mean about Nick?’

  There was silence as they stared at one another. Then Viv said, ‘I see what you mean me to see but Nick seems to have turned out all right and he’s told me that his mother’s turned respectable.’

  ‘He told you that?’

  Viv nodded. ‘Yes. She has an aspidistra and polishes it.’ A small smile played round her mouth.

  George groaned. ‘I don’t believe it! You’ve fallen for him.’

  ‘No, I haven’t!’ She was quite indignant. ‘But I needn’t judge him on who his mother is. I’ve lived in the shadow of what my mother did all my life. I’d say that gives Nick and me something in common.’

  George shook his head. ‘It’s not just what his mother did. It’s what he did. He got into trouble in his teens. Went round smashing windows and things.’

  ‘What things?’

  ‘I don’t know for sure’. He lit up another cigarette. ‘But there was talk. I knew a couple of lads who were at the Art School with him. He had a bad reputation. Girls and things.’

  ‘“Things” again,’ said Viv, staring intently at her fingernails.