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

Published by HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers 2017

Coronation Street is an ITV Studios Production

Copyright © ITV Ventures Limited 2017

Archive photograph in end matter © ITV / REX / Shutterstock

Jacket photographs © Nils Jorgensen/REX/Shutterstock

(Coronation Street set); Topfoto.co.uk(children playing); John Topham/

Topfoto.co.uk(women chatting and van); © Ivan Cholakov/Alamy Stock

Photo (Flying Fortress).

Cover layout design © HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2017

Maggie Sullivan asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008256524

Ebook Edition © November 2017 ISBN: [eISBN] 9780008255138

Version: 2018-09-25

Mum, Dad and Bram, my everlasting inspiration.

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

December 1937

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Christmas 1938

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Coronation Street – Still the Nation’s Favourite

Pat Phoenix – The Woman Who Made Elsie Tanner

Acknowledgements

Keep Reading …

About the Author

About the Publisher

Elsie Grimshaw stopped and stared at the newsagent’s window, like she’d done every day since the small Christmas tree had appeared. The same as every year, it was draped in silvery tinsel and dotted with fluffy wads of cotton wool pretending to be snow. On the topmost branch was a fairy with a glittering wand. She shivered and wrapped her arms round her skinny body, trying to rub some feeling into them. It felt cold enough for real snow today though, and her arms were too puny and her coat too thin to offer any defence against the wind. Under the lower green branches of the tree, several gift-wrapped parcels were lying and she longed to pick them up. They were different shapes and sizes; all in fancy coloured paper, though much of it was faded. Some were strung with a ribbon that ended in a bow.

Must be some kind of chocolates, she had long ago decided as she gazed enviously at the packages. Seeing her own reflection in the newly cleaned glass, she was momentarily distracted and she stared at her outline. She pulled a funny face, laughed and then frowned, then stared straight ahead, a gradual smile coming to her lips. Her nose was all right, if a little pointed. She never had managed to scrub off the dusting of freckles. Her dark green eyes, which she knew were her best feature, looked huge against the paleness of her face. Lots of expression in those eyes, she was always being told. Nowt but bloody cheek and impudence, according to her dad. But it was her long eyelashes the girls at the factory envied. Much darker than the flame-red of her hair. She moved closer until they almost touched the glass. Everyone seemed to want long eyelashes. Not that she could see hers. Her fringe was too long. Long and lifeless, despite the curls, like the rest of the tangled mess that hung in different lengths around her shoulders. She’d tried to smooth it out but it wasn’t easy. Maybe she could get her sister Fay to have a go at it if they could cadge some scissors off one of the neighbours. Of course, it would look quite different if it was washed and cut properly. She thought of the women she saw regularly coming out of the hairdressers in some of the nicer streets of Weatherfield. Then she could look like her favourite film star. Fiery hair, fiery temper her mother always said. But Elsie didn’t mind, not if it made her like Maureen O’Hara. Maybe the hairdresser could make her look like that one day. Elsie peered again at her reflection and pulled another face, this time stretching her thin lips, then pouting. Nothing a spot of carmine couldn’t improve.

She rubbed her fingers over her cheekbones, which Fay reckoned stuck out like film stars’ bones. They stick out because I don’t get enough to eat, Elsie had thought. Not the kind of problem Hollywood film stars have to worry about. She pictured herself stretched out on a sofa like she had seen in the films, munching through the contents of the chocolate boxes, deliciously soft and sweet. She imagined licking the melting chocolate from her fingers, though it wasn’t chocolate that coated them now, stuck as they were with all the cotton fluff and grime from the machines at the factory. It never occurred to her the boxes might be dummies.

I’ll be fifteen next birthday, she thought. In March. Not that anyone else would remember. Fifteen, and I’ve never had a present in me life. One of these days I’m going to have one and it will be all wrapped up just like those. She sighed before adding: And not only for me birthday, but for Christmas as well.

Suddenly, through the thin fabric of her shabby coat, she felt the touch of a hand in the small of her back and she spun round, feeling foolish and hoping she hadn’t spoken her thoughts out loud.

‘Bobby Mirren!’ she squealed. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

‘Just being friendly.’ He tilted his head to one side and gave her a lopsided grin. ‘Thought maybe you’d like Christmas to come early this year. If you know what I mean.’ He winked. ‘I’ll make it worth your while.’

Elsie’s hand closed on the wage packet that filled her coat pocket when he said that. Not for the first time she thanked no god in particular that she had a steady job at the textile factory. At least it meant the family could eat – most days. So long as her mam was smart enough to grab something back off her dad before he drank it all away.

She gazed at Bobby for a second or two then beckoned towards the end of the street with her head. There was still some daylight left in the early wintry afternoon. He crooked his elbow and she slid her arm through his as they sauntered off down the road together. She could feel the envelope in her pocket as she walked, but she was thinking that an extra ha’penny or two would never go amiss.