Maggie Sullivan - Christmas on Coronation Street - The perfect Christmas read

She was caught up in her dream while she was on her way to visit her best friend Valerie so she almost didn’t notice Elsie staring intently into the newsagent’s window on the other side of the road. But then she paused, wondering what her sister was doing. Fay was about to call out to Elsie to wait for her so they could walk home together, but before she could open her mouth she saw Bobby Mirren sidle up to her sister and cover Elsie’s backside with his large hand. Elsie looked startled and Fay’s instinct was to shout across to him to stop mithering and to leave her sister alone. But then she could see Elsie half turn and from the look on her face she seemed not to mind. Fay could only guess as to the exchange as she watched Elsie move Bobby’s hand away, but to her surprise the next thing she saw was the two of them sauntering off arm in arm.

Fay held back a little way but kept pace with them on the other side of the road, curious about where they might be heading. She was surprised when they stepped off the pavement and disappeared into some bushes behind the bus stop. Fay took the opportunity to cross the road. She kept herself out of sight and found a spot half hidden by the shrubbery where she could see them without being seen. They seemed to be kissing, which Fay found strange for she knew for a fact that Elsie didn’t particularly like Bobby. Hadn’t she told her so only the other day? Not only that, but she had been adamant that she preferred Eric Ross and would welcome the chance to let him know that she fancied him. But now, as Fay watched, it was Bobby who had his arms around Elsie and they seemed to be almost devouring each other with ever widening mouths. Even more surprising, Fay thought she saw Bobby’s hands slide inside Elsie’s coat as the two became more entangled and Fay wondered what Elsie could be thinking. Of course Fay understood about kissing, she’d even tried it once with Brian Morgan. But it had made her feel dirty and messy and it wasn’t something she was eager to try again. When she had told Elsie this, her big sister had laughed and told her not to worry about it for now. ‘Mebbe you’re a bit young yet. But you’ll be at it again one day before long, I promise you – and you’ll enjoy it too,’ Elsie had assured her. ‘But not before the time’s right, and the lad’s right too.’

Fay frowned. So did that mean Bobby Mirren was the right one for Elsie? Was she going to marry him? Suddenly Fay heard a shout, which she realized had come from her sister. She looked up to see Bobby pulling his hand out from under Elsie’s skirt. Elsie’s face was flushed as she patted down her clothing and rebuttoned her coat, but within a few moments they began kissing again, this time with even more energy. Feeling confused and not wanting to see any more, Fay crept away from her hiding place and started walking purposefully towards Valerie’s house. Maybe her best friend would be able to shed some light on it all. But in any case, she would talk to Elsie tonight. She’d have to tell her what she saw and she’d ask Elsie what it all meant.

Elsie lay in bed on her back, her face throbbing, her eye and nose already puffy and swollen. It was too painful to lie on her side as she usually preferred to do. Fay was asleep when Elsie had finally come back home and crept upstairs, and now she was gently snoring, snuffling each time she turned over and trying to snuggle up close. Elsie was also aware of Polly, Ethel and Connie, who slept top to toe with them in the same bed, and she tried to push aside their feet which seemed as if they hadn’t seen soap or water for several weeks.

After being sick in the courtyard, Elsie hadn’t made it to the midden, she had fled the house and gone to seek refuge, as she usually did, with her best friend Aggie. She had stayed there most of the evening. As she had hoped, by the time she returned home both her parents seemed to be fast asleep downstairs, their bed pulled out from behind the front door, closer to the hearth, to make the most of the remains of any heat from the coal dust in the fireplace. Her father was on his back snoring loudly, as a result no doubt from having retrieved the money that had scattered from her pocket, and having spent it, as usual, down at the Three Hammers. Her mother had turned her face to the wall as she always did, so it was impossible to be sure that she was asleep, but from the irregularity of her breathing and the stiffness of her pose, Elsie guessed she was not.

She had crept up the stairs, anxious not to disturb anyone. It was a bitterly cold night and she slipped gratefully into her only nightgown, a winceyette passion-killer her mother had found in a jumble sale. Then she wrapped herself in an old woollen cardigan and climbed into bed. There was a fireplace in the room but as far as she knew it had never seen a fire, so she tried to snuggle more closely to Fay. She was congratulating herself on having avoided her father during the time he was at his most dangerous when she was aware of a noise on the stairs.

Elsie knew she was most at risk of further punishment within the first twenty-four hours after a supposed offence, and her father was more than capable of humiliating her with more than just his fists. Sometimes, when he’d had a skinful and if he caught her unawares … She knew what he did was wrong, and hated him all the more for it. He certainly hadn’t liked her behaviour tonight. She cursed under her breath. She had forgotten to wedge the old linen box against the door. She berated herself as she lay listening to the mounting footsteps. A hot wormy feeling crawled in the pit of her stomach as the sounds grew closer and she prayed that she would be able to hold down her meagre tea. She heard the final footfall stop outside the bedroom and then the groaning of the hinge on the rickety door. She closed her eyes, pretending that if she couldn’t see anyone then no one was there. But she could still sense a body had entered the room. And she could hear the harsh whisper, ‘Else.’ Her eyes flew open. ‘Else, are you all right?’ She couldn’t see her face but she could make out the silhouette in the moonless night against the sheet that acted as a makeshift curtain: it was Phyllis with her fists clenched.

Phyllis was shivering as she stepped inside the room and brought her face close to Elsie’s. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked again. ‘Only I heard you’d got batttered by the old man.’

‘Is that you, Phyllis?’ Elsie asked, relieved. ‘You frightened the life out of me. What the ’ell are you doing up at this hour?’

‘Sorry, but I couldn’t sleep. I was worried that he might come for you again.’ Phyllis paused, her pale and pinched features barely visible in the darkness of the shabby room. ‘I know what he’s like.’ Phyllis’s hand touched her swollen face and Elsie pulled back; the bruise was still tender.

‘Sorry I wasn’t here to help you,’ she said. ‘’Cos I would ’ave, you know.’

Elsie tried to smile, though it felt forced. Phyllis was one of the toughest kids in the family, maybe even as tough as Elsie herself, though she was barely into her teens.

‘Don’t worry, lass, I can look after meself. I’m all right and you’d best be getting back to bed before you catch your death.’

Phyllis lingered, and Elsie felt her sister’s cool hand clutch her own. ‘It’s not right, Elsie, what he does to us.’

‘No, it’s not, pet, but we look out for each other, don’t we?’

‘Aye,’ said Phyllis. ‘But I can’t take much more of it. I tell you, the first chance I get, I’m off.’

Elsie was shocked, ‘You’re talking daft. Where would you go at your age?’

Phyllis sounded defiant. ‘There’s plenty of places, places where Dad would never find us ’n’ all.’