laugh. ‘Good customers, are they?’
Daisy nodded. ‘Three times a week, regular as clockwork: two full breakfasts and gallons of tea.’
‘Right!’ Amy gave her a shove. ‘What you do is shut your ears … if you can bear not to eavesdrop. Then you smile, and serve them and take their money when they’ve finished. And now if you please, I’d like my breakfast.’ With that she gave Daisy another shove and Daisy toddled off to ask the other customers, ‘What can I get you, ladies?’ And back came the swift answer, ‘Piss orf. Can’t yer see we’re not ready yet!’
Cursing under her breath, Daisy quickened her steps to the kitchen; while Amy, having heard the whole thing, found it hard not to laugh out loud.
When behind her, the argument raged on between the two women, she looked up to see Daisy, elbows resting on the counter, ears pricked and eavesdropping like a good ’un. ‘That’s my Daisy!’ she chuckled. ‘Can’t resist a good argument.’
Amy loved her Tuesday shopping, and her regular stop-off at Tooley’s Café because rain or shine, there was always something going on.
Then, as thoughts of the man came into her mind, her amusement turned to concern. What made him so afraid to reach out, she wondered. What was it in his life that put the sadness in those deep, dark eyes?
Like Daisy she would have loved to know more about him.
She glanced out the window but he was long gone. ‘A burden shared is a burden halved,’ she murmured. And he had seemed to want to talk, she thought. Just for that split second or two when he held her gaze, he had seemed to be reaching out to her.
But then again, maybe it was only her imagination.
‘WHAT PLANS HAVE you got for tonight, lass?’ Strikingly pretty, small-built like Amy, and with the same bright smile and brown hair, Marie Atkinson was mild-tempered and of a kindly nature. ‘Off somewhere exciting are you?’
It was a Friday evening and Amy was busy emptying the till in the shop. She glanced up at her mother. ‘I might go to the pictures with Daisy.’
‘Hmm! Sounds like a good idea.’ When she was younger, Marie had always fancied herself as a film star. ‘What’s on?’
Concentrating on separating the silver coins from the less valuable copper ones, Amy said, ‘I think it’s Charles King in The Broadway Melody.’
Marie liked the sound of that. ‘By! If your dad weren’t coming home tonight, I might have joined you,’ she said dreamily. ‘Ooh! I do like Charles King.’ She tap-danced on the spot. ‘Feet of magic and a smile that turns you inside out. I wouldn’t mind a little twirl with him.’
Amy laughed. ‘Don’t give me that! If it was a choice between Dad and Charles King, you’d pick Dad every time.’
Marie kept on dancing. ‘Happen I’ll let your dad get his own dinner. Happen I’d rather put on my glad rags and go to the pictures with you and Daisy.’
Knowing how devoted to her father Marie was, Amy laughed. ‘I can’t see you letting Dad come home to an empty house, not even for Charles King! Besides, you’ve always said how nobody could ever take Dad’s place.’
Exhausted, Marie stopped dancing and leaned over the counter. ‘You’re right, lass,’ she said breathlessly. ‘There’s not a man in this world can ever tek the place of your father.’
Her face wreathed in a smile, she let her mind wander back over the years. ‘Me and your dad have been wed almost twenty-five years, and I wouldn’t swap a single minute.’
In fact their anniversary was only eight months away. ‘I were just turned eighteen when we walked down the aisle,’ she confirmed. ‘Your father was twenty … though o’ course he weren’t your father then … he were just my Dave.’ She sighed. ‘I loved him with all my heart then. And I’ve loved him the same ever since.’
Amy sighed longingly. ‘I wish I could find someone to love like that.’ All her life Amy had witnessed the love and devotion between her mam and dad, and it was a wonderful thing. She had thought that marriage to Don would have been just the same – had envisaged a life of devotion to her gorgeous husband – and even now flashes of that golden future that would never be occasionally passed through her mind. She couldn’t see how she could ever love that way again. Her parents’ happiness was a living example of an idyllic marriage Amy now feared she might never have. She shrugged away the thought.
Having bagged up the takings, she came across the room and, placing the bags on the counter, she wrapped her arms round that small, delightful figure. ‘After all this time you still adore him, don’t you, Mam? What woman in her right mind would give up a night with Charles King to be with “your Dave”, as you call him?’
Marie gave it some thought. ‘Well, I’ll admit your father’s not as slim as Charles King and it’s no wonder, with all that dancing an’ tapping an’ flinging himself about. By! It’s a marvel he’s not worn down to his kneecaps.’
Amy loved to tease and she did so now. ‘Whereas Dad can’t dance; and he can’t tap, although I have known him “fling himself about” a bit, when he comes home three sheets to the wind.’
‘No!’ Marie flew to his defence. ‘You’ve never seen your father three sheets to the wind!’ she protested, half smiling. ‘He’s only ever been the worse for drink once in the whole of his life, and that was when Grandad Atkinson got wed for the second time. Even then he didn’t have the strength to “fling himself about a bit”.’ She chuckled. ‘Though he did manage to fall down the coal-hole and bruise himself from top to bottom.’
Amy laughed. ‘I bet that sobered him up.’
‘It did, yes. It weren’t the first time he’d fallen down the coal-hole,’ she revealed. ‘A natural disaster, that’s your dad.’
Marie told a tale or two about what Amy’s dad had got up to before she was even born, and for the next few minutes the two of them rolled about with laughter. ‘On the night I decided I loved your father we were holding hands as we walked from Atkinson Street. A horse and cart ran through a puddle and splashed him from top to bottom. How could I not want to marry him after that?’
‘A couple of old romantics, that’s what you are.’ As always, Amy’s heart went out to Daisy, whose own parents were forever feuding and fighting. Tonight would be as much an escape as an entertainment for poor Daisy.
‘I wish he hadn’t gone driving for Hammonds, though,’ Marie said thoughtfully. ‘I really miss him. Why in God’s name did he have to take on that delivery work? He was offered work inside the factory, but he said he didn’t fancy “being cooped up”. All the same, I wish he’d taken it. At least he’d have been home of a night-time.’ Her frown deepened. ‘I do hate him being away all week!’
Hammonds had two lines of business: a brush factory, and delivery of their own and other people’s goods in a small fleet of motor lorries.
In an effort to bring back the smile to her mother’s face, Amy quipped, ‘Why d’you need Dad, when you’ve got me?’
Collecting up the money bags, Marie groaned. ‘That’s another thing. I feel guilty about you giving up your job at Wittons factory, so you could come and help run this place. And you were about to be promoted to the office.’
Amy was astounded. ‘How did you know that?’
‘Rosie Salter told me a few days after you left.’
‘She should never have done that!’
‘Well, she did, and I’ve felt bad about it ever since. I mean, you can’t deny, it’s a bit of a come-down