glance. ‘Though it’s none o’ your business.’
Undeterred, he shifted back into the queue. ‘With your boyfriend, are you?’
Daisy smiled. ‘I’ve not got no boyfriend at the minute.’
The young man licked his lips. ‘All alone then, eh?’
‘No.’
‘Oh?’ Disappointment coloured his voice. ‘Who’ve you got with you then?’ He glanced about, but quickly returned his attention to her. ‘Not your mam and dad, is it?’ he asked warily.
Daisy bristled. ‘I wouldn’t even cross the street with them two!’
‘Is that so?’ As the queue shifted, he went with it. ‘Like that, is it?’
‘Like what?’ On the defensive now, Daisy didn’t care for the way the conversation was going.
‘Looks to me like you don’t get on with your parents.’ Taking hold of her arm, he held her there, a gleam of mischief in his small, bright eyes. ‘Been a naughty girl, have you?’
Daisy shook him off. ‘Like I said, it’s none of your damned business!’
When she hurried away, he tried to follow her, but the picture was starting and the dispersing queue blocked his path. ‘Wait for me at the main doors,’ he called after her, and, secretly thrilled, Daisy pretended not to hear.
She returned to her seat, irritated by the medley of voices threatening to have her chucked out. ‘You’ve mangled my toes once too often!’ cried one irate woman.
‘If you shifted your bloody great feet out the way,’ Daisy snapped back, ‘I wouldn’t be able to “mangle” ’em, would I?’
Throwing herself into the seat, she was horrified when the randy old codger in the next seat stroked her knee suggestively. ‘Take no notice of them,’ he urged.
When she glared at him, he leered at her. ‘You’re a pretty young thing,’ he whispered, curling his fingers tighter about her thigh. ‘What say you and me leave for a while, eh?’
Daisy smiled her best, at the same time spilling her tub of ice cream all over his trousers. ‘Whoops!’ Digging Amy in the ribs, she said, feigning innocence, ‘Oh dear, look what I’ve just done to this poor old man!’
Unaware of what had gone before, Amy was astonished to see the man leap out of his seat, his trousers dripping ice cream, and a wet patch forming round his flies.
‘YOU DID THAT ON PURPOSE!’
He caused such a fuss that the usherette came running. ‘What the devil’s going on here?’
‘Ask him!’ Grabbing Amy’s arm, Daisy forced her way past. ‘You should be careful who you let in here,’ she informed the usherette. ‘The dirty old git needed cooling off. A dollop of ice cream round his old what-not seems to have done the trick, though.’
Outside, the two girls collapsed laughing.
‘Did you see the look on his face?’ Amy chuckled.
‘Serves him right!’ Daisy replied. ‘Filthy old sod.’
‘I hope you’re not talking about me?’ It was the young man who had tried chatting up Daisy earlier. He was leaning against the wall, another man, of about the same age, with him.
‘No, I didn’t mean you.’ Her ready smile told how she was pleased to see him. ‘Some randy old bugger and his wandering hands. I had to teach him a lesson!’
‘So it was you causing all that fuss?’
‘It was.’ In truth she was quite proud to have dealt with the matter so efficiently.
‘Put him in his place, did you?’
Daisy grinned. ‘I dropped a tub of ice cream in his lap … that cooled him off all right.’
The young man laughed. ‘I’d best watch my p’s and q’s when you’re around.’
‘That’s right … you had.’
He sidled closer. ‘Are we on for a date then?’
Daisy decided to play it casual. ‘We might be.’
He persisted. ‘Well, are we or not?’
Daisy glanced at his mate. A quiet man with lean figure and intense gaze, he seemed well taken with Amy. ‘Who’s your friend?’
‘This is Jack …’ beckoning his friend forward, he introduced him, ‘… Jack Tomlinson. We work together and we’re good pals.’ He half smiled. ‘Jack never has much to say, but he thinks a lot. Not like me. I take things as they come.’
His gaze fixing Amy, Jack stepped forward. ‘Pleased to meet you …’ he hesitated, ‘… I don’t know your name.’
Amy held out her hand. ‘I’m Amy.’ Ever cautious, she saw no need to elaborate on that, at least for now.
Holding her hand for a moment longer than she would have liked, he smiled down on her. ‘Pretty name.’
‘Thank you.’ He seemed a nice enough fella.
‘And I’m Roy.’ The sharp little man stepped forward, addressing himself to Daisy. ‘Let me guess … you’ve got to be a Joanne … or mebbe Ruth, am I right?’
She giggled. ‘I’m Daisy. Pretty as a flower.’
Feeling uncomfortable about the way the young man was eyeing Daisy, Amy intervened. ‘Lovely meeting you both, but we’ve a tram to catch.’
Daisy, though, was already infatuated. ‘Oh, Amy, we’ve time to find a chippie first,’ she protested. ‘Don’t forget we left the flicks early, so we’ve got some extra time.’
Amy, horrified at the idea of yet more food, was about to disagree, but the young man called Roy pounced on the idea at once. ‘I know where there’s a good chippie!’ Grabbing Daisy by the arm, he suggested, ‘We could have fish and chips, then find a quiet place to talk … if that’s what you’d like?’
Before Amy could say anything, Daisy had agreed and the four of them were on their way, in the direction of the docks, being led by Daisy and her chatty companion.
‘They seem to have hit it off together, don’t they?’ Bringing up the rear, Jack walked at a more sedate pace with Amy. ‘I wish I was more like him. He makes friends so easily, while I’ve always found it difficult.’
Amy smiled at that. ‘Daisy’s the same,’ she said, adding cautiously, ‘Is he all right though, your friend?’
‘How d’you mean?’ Jack gave her a curious glance.
‘He won’t take advantage of her, will he?’
‘In what way?’
‘Daisy is going through a bad time at the minute, and I wouldn’t like to see her hurt.’ There was no point beating about the bush. ‘It’s just that, well, your friend seems a bit of a flirt … too full of himself for my liking.’
Jack smiled knowingly. ‘You’re right. He can be a bit of a flirt, but it’s just his manner. He doesn’t mean anything by it.’
They walked on, the night closing in around them, and Amy growing slightly alarmed at the way in which Roy was all over Daisy. When they turned down a darkened side street, her fears grew.
‘Daisy, where do you think you’re going?’
Laughing, Daisy called back, ‘To the chippie, o’ course … where d’you think?’
‘There’s no chippie down here.’ Amy knew the streets of Blackburn like the back of her hand. ‘We’d best turn back … we don’t want to miss the last tram.’
‘Oh,