Patricia Burns - Follow Your Dream

Of course, she knew perfectly well what he was up to.

‘You’re a regular little ray of sunshine, aren’t you?’ she commented. ‘Fixing Gran’s glasses, getting the clock going. Whatever would we do without you?’

‘I’m sure I could fix something for you, if you let me,’ James told her.

Wendy gave him one of her dismissive up-and-down looks. ‘I don’t think there’s anything I need from you, sweetie.’ And she teetered elegantly out of the room on her high heels.

Lillian, who always seemed to be around when he was there, launched into a savage take-off. She put her hand on her hip the way Wendy did and looked back over her shoulder with the same don’t-touch-me pout.

‘I don’t think there’s anything I need from you, sweetie,’ she repeated, with exactly Wendy’s intonation, and walked to the door with an exaggerated wiggle to her bottom.

Despite his disappointment at the brush-off, James had to laugh. ‘You’ve got her to a T,’ he said.

‘Huh, she thinks she’s so wonderful, but really she’s such a cow.’

‘Lillian, language!’ her mother protested feebly.

‘But she is,’ Lillian insisted.

Her mother handed her a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits.

‘Take these along to your grandmother, there’s a good girl.’

Lillian sighed and went. A few minutes later, she came back through the kitchen and out of the back door.

‘Got to go and get something for Gran,’ she explained as she went.

Her mother hardly seemed to notice.

This was something that James had picked up on since he’d been spending more time at the Parkers’. Lillian hadn’t just been whinging when she’d said it was horrible being the youngest. None of her family seemed to speak to her except to tell her off or get her to do something for them. She was forever running around doing errands. It had changed his view of what it was like to be part of a large family. Often when he was young he had yearned to have lots of brothers and sisters like the families he read about in adventure stories. Now he was beginning to realise that, though his family was a bit claustrophobic at times, at least they did all value each other. He certainly wasn’t left out like Lillian seemed to be. He brought up the subject with Susan one day.

‘Don’t you think it’s unfair, the way they all treat Lillian?’

His sister looked surprised. ‘How do you mean?’

‘Well, getting her to do all their jobs for them, like she’s was some kind of servant.’

Susan didn’t seem to think it was important. ‘Oh, she doesn’t mind. And it keeps her out of mischief. If she wasn’t doing something useful she might be getting into trouble. She’s got that wild look about her, don’t you think?’

‘No, I don’t. I think she’s rather a nice kid, and she’s getting a raw deal from that lot. She does all this stuff for them, but do they do anything for her? No. She cleans your Bob’s shoes for him every day, but it wasn’t him who helped her with that bike, it was me.’

Susan just laughed. ‘Oh, yes, and why did you do that, I wonder? Out of the kindness of your heart, or to get to see Wendy?’

She was right, of course.

‘At least I did do it. Now the bike’s roadworthy and Lillian can ride it,’ he pointed out, not wanting to lose the argument.

He didn’t like to admit that he was taking advantage of Lillian’s good nature himself. The dancing lessons were a great success. There had been a problem to start with, because both of them wanted to keep it a secret. There was always somebody around at the Parkers’ so going there was no good, but then Susan had started going out with Bob on Tuesday evenings as well as at the weekend, which just happened to be when his mother went to her Townswomen’s Guild meeting.

‘Won’t your parents think it’s a bit off, you coming round to mine of an evening?’ James asked. His mother always wanted to know where Susan was and certainly wouldn’t have let her go to an older boy’s house when nobody else was there. After all, he knew his intentions were entirely innocent, but the Parkers might not look at it that way.

Lillian just shrugged.

‘They won’t notice. Or, if they do, I’ll say I’m going round my friend Janette’s.’

He had to take her word for it. And she was an excellent teacher. They didn’t have a record player or much space, but they pushed back the furniture and rolled up the carpet square, then twiddled the tuner of the big Bush wireless till they found some dance music. Lillian showed him the basic steps to the waltz, quickstep and foxtrot, and soon he was moving round the floor with confidence.

‘I can do it!’ he said, as his feet began to obey the music.

Lillian beamed at him. ‘It’s fun, isn’t it?’

‘It is,’ he agreed. ‘I never thought it would be, but it is.’

She was a strict teacher.

‘Don’t look at your feet,’ she told him. ‘Head up—arm higher—elbow out—now glide, glide, don’t just walk—think of Fred Astaire!’

‘That’ll be the day,’ James said.

He asked her how she came to learn to dance herself. ‘Did you say your friend taught you all this?’

‘Yeah, Janette. Her parents have got the newsagent’s on the London Road—you know?—and they let her go to lessons, lucky thing.’ She sighed. ‘She goes to everything—ballet, modern, tap and ballroom. It’s so unfair! She’s an only child and they let her do everything she wants. I wish I was her.’

James gave one of her plaits a little tug. ‘I bet she’s a spoilt brat. Not like you,’ he said.

Her sharp little face flushed with delight. ‘Do you like me?’ she breathed.

He was shocked by the longing in her eyes.

‘Of course,’ he said, feeling uncomfortable. ‘You’re a good sport. Now, show me again how that reverse turn goes.’

By the beginning of June he felt he knew enough to venture onto the floor at the Kursaal dance hall on the seafront. He spent an evening steering various girls around, managed not to step on anyone’s feet or bump into any other couples and even found he enjoyed himself.

‘It was fun,’ he admitted to Lillian afterwards. ‘I think I might get to like this dancing lark. Now, the question is, am I good enough at it to ask Wendy out?’

The dancing lessons had been the highlight of Lillian’s life. She could hardly believe her good fortune when James had actually taken her up on her offer. Here was her chance to be really useful to him, to do something for him that nobody else could. She was beside herself with excitement, imagining wafting round a ballroom with him like a film star. More than once she’d got into trouble at school for daydreaming, picturing herself in a wonderful gown, waltzing in James’s arms. Mostly she’d managed to banish from her mind the fact that James wanted to do this because Wendy had said she liked men who would take her dancing. When she did remember, it sent her into such a pit of despair and hatred for her sister that she could hardly bear to be in the same room as her.

For once she was pleased that her family took no notice of her, for nobody remarked on her volatile state and nobody questioned where she was off to. But the pressure of all these new emotions was too great to be contained. She’d confided it all to her best friend Janette as they’d sat eating sweets in her pretty pink bedroom in the flat above the newsagent’s.

‘He’s just the most wonderful person in the whole wide world,’ she said with a sigh.

‘Ooh—’ Janette teased. ‘Have you got a pash on him?’

‘No! It isn’t a pash—’ Pashes were what first formers got on prefects, or even the young PE teacher. This was far more serious, far more painful. It was taking over her life. But she didn’t know what to call it.