Love Changes Everything Read online

  However, if Sam returned home before Trixie, the first thing he’d do would be to grab the spoon away from her which usually resulted in Cilla bursting into tears and she’d still be sobbing when Trixie arrived home.

  Trixie tried to reason with him. ‘If you took more notice of Cilla and picked her up when you came in, or even talked to her, Dad, then she’d stop her singing and making such a noise with the spoon,’ she pointed out.

  Sam rarely answered or took any notice, but if he was in a particularly bad mood it often resulted in Trixie getting a backhander across the mouth unless she was quick enough to move out of his reach.

  ‘It’s a complete waste of time you trying to get your dad to take any notice of Cilla,’ her mother warned her, ‘so stop trying. As long as you pick her up and see to her as soon as you get in she won’t come to much harm.’

  Although neither Trixie nor Ivy had more than a few pence pocket money each week after handing over the bulk of their pay-packets, they made the most of it by going somewhere different with Cilla every weekend.

  ‘We won’t want to do this very often when the weather starts getting colder,’ Trixie laughed as, on the last Saturday in September, they squared up to the brisk early autumn breeze that whipped the grey Mersey to a foaming froth as they boarded The Royal Daffodil to go across to New Brighton.

  ‘Why not? The fresh air is so lovely and bracing that it will do us both good after being shut up in that horrible factory all week! A good sharp walk along the promenade when we get off the boat on the other side will get rid of all our cobwebs.’

  ‘As long as we don’t all get blown away!’ Trixie laughed. ‘It’s a good job Cilla is in the pushchair because I don’t think she’d be able to stand up to this wind if she had to walk.’

  As they left the ferry boat at New Brighton and made their way along the Ham and Egg Parade and carried on walking towards the far end of the promenade, which was usually less crowded with day trippers, their talk inevitably turned to what had gone on at the factory the previous week.

  The way Fred Linacre continued to pick on Trixie was always the main topic of their conversation.

  ‘He’s always telling Dora to move me to another place on the assembly line and making out that I’m not doing the job properly,’ Trixie moaned.

  ‘I know,’ Ivy commiserated, ‘but even though I’ve tried to get some of the other women to protest along with me about the way he treats you, and to take your side, none of them will risk doing it in case they lose their jobs.’

  ‘I can understand that,’ Trixie agreed. ‘The one thing that worries me is that one of these days he’ll sack me and then there will be all hell to pay when my father finds out.’

  ‘Not if you tell him about the way Fred picks on you and finds fault with everything you do all the time.’

  ‘It won’t make any difference what I say because he’ll believe whatever yarn Fred spins him and you can bet your boots he’ll make out it’s something I’ve done wrong,’ Trixie told her as they stopped to buy some ice cream cornets.

  ‘I was telling Jake about it,’ Ivy told her as she waited while Trixie tied a bib around Cilla and helped her hold her cornet. ‘He said that if we belonged to a Trade Union, then Fred wouldn’t be able to pick on you like he does. You’d be able to report it and if you could prove he was picking on you for no reason at all, then the Union would support you in your fight and take it up with the bosses on your behalf. If they weren’t able to get them to agree to sort it out then they’d call a strike and everyone would stop work till it was dealt with by an arbitrator.’

  ‘Really?’ Trixie’s eyes widened.

  ‘Yes,’ Ivy laughed, ‘and Jake also said that the bosses at the factory would be so angry that they’d sack the lot of us if we tried to do anything like that so the best thing we could do would be to find ourselves another job.’

  ‘If I could find another job away from Fred Linacre I’d take it tomorrow,’ Trixie agreed as they began to walk on again. ‘There’s not much chance of that happening, though, because, as my dad is forever telling me when he’s laying down the law, here in Liverpool there’s a dozen after every job that comes vacant.’

  ‘Yes,’ Ivy sighed. ‘I suppose the only thing we can do is put up with Fred Linacre and ignore the way he rants and raves as much as we can.’

  ‘At least we get a bag of broken biscuits to bring home at the end of the week.’

  ‘True and that was something that didn’t happen at the tin-can factory,’ Ivy agreed with a grin.

  ‘And we always have something to talk about when we go out together,’ Trixie added.

  ‘What we can’t change we have to put up with, I suppose.’ Ivy shrugged. ‘Anyway, let’s get the next boat back and talk about something else; something much more exciting.’

  Trixie looked puzzled. ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like going dancing? Do you think that you can get your mum to put Cilla to bed and so on so that we can do that?’ Ivy asked quickly.

  ‘Of course she will, but I can’t dance.’

  ‘Rubbish. Anybody can dance. Once you hear the music then your feet will know what to do.’

  ‘Yours might, because you’re Irish,’ Trixie laughed. ‘Are you going to teach me?’

  ‘There’s no time because it’s next Saturday. Don’t worry about it, though, because Jake will be your partner and he’s a smashing dancer and he’ll teach you in no time.’

  ‘Jake?’ Trixie’s face lit up. ‘You mean he’s coming with us?’

  ‘My mum wouldn’t let me go to a dance on my own, even though I’m seventeen,’ Ivy laughed. ‘This is special. There’s a group of us all going together: Jake, his best friend Andrew, Sid, another boy they knew at school, and Sid’s sister Katy; it’s her twenty-first birthday.’

  ‘It sounds as though it will be good fun, but I’ve never been to a dance so I’ve nothing to wear.’

  ‘None of my things will fit you,’ Ivy frowned, ‘hasn’t your mum got a dress you can borrow?’

  Trixie shook her head. ‘I shouldn’t think she’s ever been to a dance in her life either.’

  ‘Hazel’s party dress would fit you,’ Ivy said thoughtfully. ‘Mum made one for her and one for me just before Hazel left home. In one of her rash moments she’d bought these two dresses from an old clothes stall in Paddy’s Market because they were so lovely. She altered them to fit us but we hardly ever wear them because they looked so posh.

  ‘Won’t your sister mind me borrowing it? It seems a bit of a cheek since she’s never even met me.’

  ‘Our Hazel isn’t likely to mind; she left it behind when she left home and now she’s married and living in Canada,’ Ivy laughed. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll ask my mum first,’ she promised when she saw Trixie looking indecisive.

  ‘You get all ready except for putting on your dress and then come round to our place and I’ll help you to put it on and make sure it looks all right on you,’ Ivy told her.

  It all sounded so wonderful and the thought of dancing with Jake so exciting that Trixie couldn’t wait to get home and ask her mother if it was all right for her to go with them.

  ‘You’d better wait and see if this dress that Ivy is lending you fits you before you make up your mind,’ her mother cautioned. ‘If it doesn’t, then there’s nothing else you can wear.’

  The dress, which was sleeveless, was in green taffeta with a pattern of white spots on it and had a round neckline and reached to her mid-calf. Much to Trixie’s delight it fitted her better than any of her own clothes did and made her feel very grown-up.

  Ivy’s dress was also sleeveless and in blue crêpe-de-Chine, the same colour as her eyes, and the neckline was edged with a lighter blue grosgrain ribbon.

  ‘You both look lovely,’ Ella told them. ‘Now promise you will stay together,’ she said anxiously.

  The evening was a revelation to Trixie. The lights, the music, so much noise and so many people made her head whirl. As she looked at all the p
retty dresses and smartly dressed men she was able to feel that she was as well dressed as any of them and felt grateful to Ivy for all her help.

  She made sure she stayed close to Ivy and Jake and their friends. As Ivy had said, Jake was an excellent dancer and she watched enviously as he whirled first Ivy and then Katy around the floor. When they played a waltz and he suggested that she should dance with him she felt herself stiffen with fright and she knew she was like a board as they took to the floor.

  After a few minutes, though, once she became accustomed to the pressure of his arm around her waist, she was able to relax. As she listened to his voice quietly telling her what to do she found herself moving in accord with him and the music and knew the thrill of being able to dance.

  From then on she really began to enjoy herself and to join in their fun and laughter when they took a break and sat drinking their beers and fruit juices.

  When she went on to the floor with Andrew and later with Sid, she managed to get round without stumbling, but it had none of the magic that she’d experienced when dancing with Jake.

  She wasn’t sure whether this was because they weren’t nearly such good dancers or because she didn’t know them very well. Sid was pompous and talked rather loudly but Andrew was so tall and handsome that although she felt nervous, being in his arms was far more exciting than dancing with Jake.

  It was after midnight when she reached home, tired but so keyed up with excitement that she was sure she wouldn’t be able to sleep for thinking about the wonderful time she’d had.

  She crept in as quietly as she possibly could after they left her on the doorstep and she was surprised to find that her mother was still up and waiting for her.

  ‘I’ve had a wonderful time, a night I’ll never forget,’ she breathed happily as her mother came out into the hallway. ‘You shouldn’t have waited up, though—’

  Maggie placed a finger to her lips and indicated with her head towards the living room. Before Trixie could work out what she was trying to tell her she heard her father shouting at her to get in there right away as he had something to say to her.

  ‘What have I always tried to drum into that thick skull of yours ever since you were a nipper?’ he bellowed angrily as she went into the room.

  She smiled at him uncertainly, not sure what he was getting at although she could see from his face that he was in a towering rage about something.

  ‘It’s after midnight and you’ve been out gallivanting all bloody night,’ he exploded when she stood there looking from him to her mother in bewilderment.

  Her face hardened. ‘I’ve been to a dance with one of the girls from work and we went with her brother and some of his friends. I asked Mum if it was all right.’

  ‘I bloody well know all that and I also know that she’s one of the O’Malleys from Horatio Street and that they’re Irish Cat’lics! You’ve been out with the buggers after all that I’ve told you about steering clear of that slummy popish lot.’

  ‘I’ve been to a dance, not to church,’ she protested.

  ‘Bloody Micks! Come over here and snaffle up all the decent jobs. I’ve told you time and again I want none of you to have anything to do with them and yet you don’t take a blind bit of notice of what I say,’ he thundered.

  ‘You don’t ask people what their race or religion is when you meet them,’ Trixie defended. ‘They’re not slummy, and the friends with them weren’t slummy either. Andrew Bacon works in a bank,’ she added triumphantly.

  ‘Keep well away from the whole bloody lot of them in future and let’s have less lip or you’ll feel my strap across your backside the next time you answer me back,’ Sam told her furiously.

  ‘I work with Ivy, so I can’t ignore her,’ Trixie protested. ‘Anyway, she’s my friend—’

  ‘Troublemakers, the pair of you, from what I’ve heard,’ he sneered. ‘Steer clear of her in the future. Understand? Now get yourself to bed and don’t let me find that she’s set foot over this doorstep ever again.’

  Chapter Six

  Trixie had been working at the biscuit factory for just over two years when Fred Linacre announced the Christmas savings scheme.

  ‘My dad will be hopping mad when he opens my pay packet and finds that it’s sixpence short. He won’t believe me when I say it’s been deducted out of it because they’re saving it up for us for Christmas,’ Trixie commented when she and Ivy met up the following Saturday.

  Since the night of the dance they were very careful not to meet in Virgil Street or Horatio Street just in case Sam Jackson spotted them. It had taken Trixie every ounce of will power to explain the situation to Ivy because she’d been afraid it would be the end of their friendship and sharing things together.

  Ivy had taken it in good part and merely shrugged. ‘It doesn’t bother me what he thinks about Catholics,’ she said indifferently, ‘we can still be friends.’

  ‘My mum says if we’re careful not to let him see us together he may forget about it, given time,’ Trixie said hopefully. ‘He’ll probably be more concerned about me being sixpence short,’ she giggled.

  ‘My mum won’t too happy about being sixpence short either,’ Ivy agreed, ‘because she says every penny counts. Still, I suppose it mightn’t be such a bad thing. We never manage to save up for Christmas so someone else doing it for us means that at least there’ll be a couple of bob to spend on luxuries.’

  ‘It’s only September; Christmas seems such a long way off that I don’t want to think about it, certainly not start saving up for it,’ Trixie sighed.

  ‘It will be Christmas Day in exactly fifteen weeks’ time,’ Ivy told her.

  Trixie stopped in the middle of the pavement and stared at her in surprise. ‘You mean that you’ve worked it out, then?’

  ‘Of course I have; I want to know how much there’s going to be to spend, don’t I?’

  ‘And how much will it be?’

  ‘I would have thought that since you were the brightest girl in your class and supposed to be good at sums you’d be the one who knew the answer to that,’ Ivy teased, imitating Fred Linacre’s way of taunting Trixie.

  They both laughed. ‘It will be seven shillings and sixpence,’ Trixie said.

  ‘Not really a fortune, is it?’ Ivy said pulling a face. ‘Still, it’s better than nothing, I suppose. Fred did say that we could put in as much as we liked extra each week if we wanted to do so.’

  ‘Not me, not out of the few pence pocket money my dad gives me back,’ Trixie affirmed. ‘It’s hard enough as it is making that go as far I want it to, and I know what he’d say if I asked him for more to put away for Christmas.’

  ‘I don’t suppose I’ll be able to afford to save any extra, either,’ Ivy agreed as they stopped so that Trixie could tuck the blanket in around Cilla’s legs. ‘Anyway, I’m not sure I want to trust Fred with my hard-earned money.’

  ‘Why’s that, do you think he might go off on the razzle and spend it all?’ Trixie giggled as she straightened up. ‘Anyway, he won’t be the one looking after it, will he? He said that they were going to appoint someone as treasurer, so whether we decide to give up our weekend outings or not so that we can save more for Christmas will depend on who that is,’ Trixie mused.

  ‘Yes, I suppose it will,’ Ivy agreed solemnly.

  The two girls looked at each other and giggled. ‘We’re talking as if we have a fortune to invest,’ Ivy said.

  ‘If we had a fortune then we wouldn’t need to save up for Christmas or for anything else. Just think what it would be like to have so much money that you could buy anything you wanted any time you liked,’ Trixie exclaimed dramatically.

  ‘I wonder who will be treasurer though, and whether it will be someone we can trust,’ Ivy pondered. ‘There’re twenty of us on our line who’re being forced to save, which means that by Christmas there will be at least seven pounds in the kitty, probably a great deal more because some of the older women reckoned they’d be putting in at least another shilling a
week. If they do, then there could be over ten pounds and think what a nice little haul that could be for the treasurer if she decided to scarper with it!’

  ‘It mightn’t be a she; it might be Fred himself when he works out how much money will be involved,’ Trixie pointed out as they waited to cross the road. ‘If it is Fred, then I certainly wouldn’t trust him to look after it,’ she added indignantly.

  ‘Mind you, he’s probably the best person of all to do so,’ Ivy said thoughtfully. ‘He’s hardly likely to risk losing his job for the sake of a few bob, now is he? As Foreman he probably earns twice as much each week as we do, even if our wages were put together.’

  ‘Or even more. He goes drinking every night of the week. I know because that’s how my dad got friendly with him; they go to the same boozer.’

  ‘Heavens, does your dad go drinking every night?’ Ivy asked in surprise.

  Trixie nodded glumly. ‘That’s his hobby, going for a bevvy. It’s where most of our money goes and it’s why my mum has to go out to work.’

  ‘I don’t think I ever want to get married,’ Ivy admitted with a deep sigh. ‘Something always seems to go wrong and it’s more trouble than it’s worth.’

  ‘What about if you fall in love with someone, won’t you want to get married then?’

  ‘I’ll make sure I don’t. Once you’re married and have got kids, the husband always seems to start drinking. Or else he beats his wife up, or does both!’

  They looked at each other and laughed.

  ‘It makes you wonder why our mums make such a fuss about saving up to have a good time at Christmas,’ Ivy said philosophically, ‘when the rest of the year they’re fighting like cat and dog or going short of things they really need.’

  ‘Come on, for the moment let’s enjoy a lovely big cornet and put off thinking about Christmas till we have to,’ Trixie laughed as she bumped Cilla’s pushchair down from the pavement so that they could cross over the road to where an ice cream van was stopped.