Maggie Sullivan - Snow on the Cobbles

‘Thank you, ladies and gents,’ he said. ‘Now – let the evening’s entertainment begin!’ He was about to make a grand gesture to herald the entrance of their first guest when there was a shout of, ‘Three cheers for the Pride of Weatherfield!’ and, with a chinking of glasses, a chorus of assorted voices bellowed, ‘Hip, hip, hurray!’ several times.

Bob looked delighted, then looked up at the clock on the wall. He took a moment to check that the microphone was working and then yelled, ‘Now, will you please put your hands together in the traditional way, and give a warm welcome to our own Weatherfield nightingale, Miss Jenny Farrington!’

Lizzie was run off her feet for the rest of the evening once the show had begun. She was pulling pints, mostly for the men, and mixing port with lemon, and gin with tonic for most of the ladies once the singer had begun her act. She couldn’t help thinking about the Rovers Return, and feeling sorry for the landlady of the pub that Bob saw as his main rival. Could there possibly be enough people in the neighbourhood to fill both pubs, she wondered, now that all the GIs had shipped out?

Lizzie knew Elsie Tanner often drank in the Rovers, but not tonight, she thought, seeing her neighbour making her way to the bar.

‘My, don’t you look posh,’ Elsie said, peering over the counter to admire the full effect of Lizzie’s dress. ‘No wonder I heard him say you’d won the prize. That really is gorgeous, and the colour suits you. You’re very talented, you know.’

‘I didn’t make it from scratch,’ Lizzie protested.

‘As good as, from what I saw. I can’t believe it’s the same old dress you showed me. I tell you something, you can make me one the next time I get married.’

Lizzie laughed.

‘I’m serious,’ Elsie said, ‘but in the meantime I’ll have a G & T when you’ve got a minute.’ Elsie brandished her voucher. ‘So who’s in tonight to appreciate this work of art? Though I don’t suppose you’re familiar with enough of the locals to know who’s who.’

‘Afraid not.’ Lizzie sighed. ‘Though right now I’m too tired to notice anyone. I feel done in already. Don’t tell anyone, but I’m not used to these kinds of hours. I’ve been run off my feet since I got here and the night’s only halfway through!’

‘I think it’s busier than anyone thought it was going to be,’ Elsie said. ‘It’s made quite an impact. Most of the Rovers seem to be here tonight. Here, this might help.’ She pulled a packet of cigarettes from her handbag and offered one to Lizzie.

Lizzie shook her head. ‘I’m sure it won’t always be like this,’ she said, ‘but once word got out that we had a free round of drinks on offer it wasn’t surprising the crowds came out.’

‘’ark at you with the we,’ Elsie laughed. ‘You’ve not been here five minutes.’

Lizzie blushed. ‘I know, but I do feel right at home. Anyway, I’d rather be kept busy, no time to think.’

‘The devil makes work for idle hands, eh?’ Elsie said. ‘Isn’t that what they say?’

Lizzie felt the warmth rush to her cheeks. ‘Oh, thanks very much!’ she said and laughed.

‘It’s one of the favourite sayings of the Rovers’ very own Ena Sharples,’ Elsie said. ‘She’s the one I was telling you about who can bring two walls together any day of the week.’

‘Is she here tonight?’ Lizzie said. ‘Maybe I’ll get to see her in the flesh.’

Elsie looked around. ‘She is indeed, with her two cronies as ever.’

‘So, which one is she? Or can I guess?’

‘Look over there and I’m sure you can tell me,’ Elsie said and she pointed across the smoke-filled room. Lizzie’s first gaze was drawn to a table where a young man was sitting alone, nursing a pint as he scanned the room. There was something about his face and she found it hard to look away. His dark hair was cut very short as though he was in the services, but what caught her attention was his fine moustache. For a moment he looked so familiar that Lizzie almost cried ‘Joe!’ and she made an involuntary movement towards him.

‘Are you all right?’ Elsie asked. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

‘No, I’m fine,’ Lizzie said. ‘It was nothing, really.’ She closed her eyes for a few moments and took some deep breaths. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.’ She forced her eyes open. ‘Now, show me again, where’s this Ena Sharples.’

Elsie pointed and this time Lizzie concentrated on searching for a table with three older women as she peered into the haze. They seemed to have placed themselves as far away as they could from the stage but Lizzie recognized Ena now from Elsie’s description. She paused for a moment to steady her breathing.

‘I’d say she’s the one on that far table,’ Lizzie said eventually. ‘The woman with the hat and coat and the miserable face.’ As she watched, the woman she’d decided must be Ena took off her hat, revealing a hairnet that completely covered her mousey-coloured hair. She had a glowering look on her face and she was sitting with her arms firmly folded across her ample chest.

‘Spot on.’ Elsie clapped her hands. ‘That’s our Ena, as usual with her two guardian angels, Minnie and Martha, though who looks after who there I’m not sure.’

‘Do you think they might change their allegiance, then?’ Lizzie said. ‘Drinking in here from now on instead of the Rovers?’

‘I don’t really know,’ Elsie said but she looked doubtful.

‘And how about you?’

Elsie shrugged. ‘We’ll have to see about that, but I’m not sure it’s really possible to change when you’ve been around as long as we all have. You know, if you support United you can’t suddenly change your colours and become a City supporter. You’re a red for life.’

‘Spoken like a true fan, if I may say so,’ a man’s voice suddenly interjected and Lizzie looked up to find she was staring directly into the laughing eyes of the man she had momentarily mistaken for Joe. Close to, to her relief, he was nothing like Joe, though she had to admit he was good-looking and she was finding it difficult to ignore his warm, flirtatious smile.

‘And which side do you come down on? It’s Lizzie, I believe, isn’t it?’ he asked, not shifting his gaze from her face.

Lizzie nodded. ‘Yes, it is,’ she said, but then found for once she was lost for words. ‘I can’t say I’m much of a supporter of either of them,’ she said at last, ‘Mr …?’

‘Steve Carter.’ The man put his hand across the counter.

Lizzie shook it tentatively. ‘I don’t really know much about football.’

‘But you can’t live round here without declaring that you’re on one side or the other,’ Elsie said. ‘You’ve got brothers, so you should know.’

‘Yes, you’re right,’ Lizzie said. ‘They do talk rather a lot about United if they talk of any team, so I suppose, if I’m honest, I lean that way a bit too.’

‘Me, I blow whichever way the wind blows,’ Elsie said. ‘How about you, Steve?’ She turned to face him as she said this, lifting her eyebrows suggestively.

‘I must admit, I’m a Reds’ fan,’ Steve said. His eyes flickered from Lizzie’s face but only for a moment.

‘Maybe when you’re talking about which pub you’d choose to drink in, as we were,’ Lizzie said, ‘it’s not quite so all-embracing. It doesn’t have to be all or nothing, for life, does it? Not like it seems to be with football.’

Steve laughed. ‘Probably not,’ he said. ‘I like to think people can be a little more flexible.’

‘It might be more fun to share things out a bit when it comes to pubs.’ Elsie grinned. ‘Like, sometimes I might drink at the Rovers, sometimes here. Then there mightn’t be so many fallings out.’