Anne Bennett - Daughter of Mine

‘Tell you what,’ Steve said suddenly, ‘let’s go down Digbeth Way. We can cut down by the Bull Ring and there’s hundreds of pubs there and we’re bound to find one doing lunches.’

‘Aye, and the walk will give us an appetite.’

‘God, I don’t need to walk to give me an appetite,’ Tressa said. ‘If I don’t eat soon I might go mad altogether.’

‘What d’you mean, go mad?’ Mike said with a laugh, and when Tressa went to hit him with her handbag he caught her around the waist instead and kissed her on the lips.

Lizzie was shocked at Tressa behaving that way in daylight and in front of a church too. She saw Mike now had his arm around Tressa and both were laughing and looking at each other in such a way that Lizzie felt suddenly shut out.

Steve saw it too. When he draped an arm over her she wanted to protest at the familiarity, but then she remembered Tressa’s account of how she’d behaved with the selfsame man just the previous evening and felt she could say nothing.

‘How about you, Lizzie?’ Mike asked. ‘Are you hungry too?’

Lizzie gave a brief shake of her head, but regretted it immediately for it started the thumping pain again. ‘No,’ she said with a sigh. ‘I’m not hungry at all, and even the thought of food makes me feel sick.’

‘You need some of Uncle Steve’s medicine,’ Steve told her.

‘Uncle Steve’s medicine? What’s that?’

‘You’ll soon find out,’ he said with a smile.

‘Brandy,’ Lizzie said. ‘I’ve never had brandy in my life.’

She felt the nausea rise in her throat as Mike said, ‘You’ve not lived. Drink it down, it’ll settle your stomach.’

She looked around at them all watching her in this little old pub called The Woodman, chosen because it had a restaurant on the side, and she wondered if Steve was right, for the different smells of alcohol, cigarette smoke and food cooking were making her feel incredibly sick. She’d die of embarrassment if she was sick in front of everyone, and Tressa would kill her altogether.

Lizzie picked up her balloon glass and looked at the amber liquid. ‘There’s an awful lot of it.’

‘I asked for a double,’ Steve said. ‘I thought it an extreme case. Get it down you.’

‘It smells awful,’ Lizzie moaned, putting the glass down. ‘I couldn’t.’

‘Course you could,’ Tressa snapped. ‘For God’s sake, Lizzie, you’re not putting it up your nose. Don’t be such a wet blanket.’

Steve put his arm around Lizzie and said gently, ‘Trust your Uncle Steve, he’s had more hangovers than you’ve had hot dinners, and I know this will make you feel better. Hair of the dog, d’you see.’

Lizzie didn’t see at all, but suddenly she put the glass to her lips and took a gulp. It was like the very worst medicine she’d ever tasted and it burned her throat and made her eyes water, but even as she coughed and spluttered she felt the warmth of it trickling down her throat.

‘Treat it with care,’ Steve said, touched by Lizzie’s naivety, his arm still around her. ‘Sip it.’

Lizzie warmed to Steve for his patience and understanding, and when she had emptied the brandy glass she had to admit it did settle her stomach, but it went straight to her head and made it swim. However, that felt quite pleasant and was better by far than the pounding ache.

When Mike came back with the news that he had a table booked for one o’clock, even Lizzie didn’t dread it so much; and when Steve bought her and Tressa a port, the drink Tressa had had previously, Lizzie took it without a murmur, and liked the dark, slightly sweet drink much better than the brandy.

Lizzie and Tressa had been introduced to wine with the meal and neither were keen. Lizzie drank sparingly anyway, for the port and brandy had made her feel strange enough and she hoped they weren’t to stop in there all afternoon, though it was no day to be outside either. Mike and Steve must have felt the same, for as they finished their apple pie and custard, Mike said, ‘How d’you two feel about the pictures?’

Lizzie was delighted. Since arriving in Birmingham she’d been many times to the pictures with Tressa and liked nothing better. ‘What’s on?’ she asked. ‘ The Blue Angel is on at the Odeon on New Street,’ Steve said. ‘I noticed on the way here. It stars Marlene Dietrich. Fancy that?’

‘Oh yes,’ Tressa said. ‘Neither of us have seen that.’

Steve was very attentive to Lizzie as they prepared to leave, fetching her coat and helping her into it, and taking her arm once outside. The wind had come up and icy spears of rain were attacking them, and Lizzie was glad of Steve’s arms encircling her, holding her so close she was able to semi-bury her head into his coat.

Steve felt ten-foot tall holding this slight-framed girl in his arms. He’d had many sexual experiences and with a variety of women, for he was a highly sexed man, but never had his heart been stirred before. But it was stirred now all right, in fact it had been churned up right and proper, and the prospect of her beside him in the dark of the cinema filled him with excitement.

Lizzie was delighted by the chocolates Steve presented her with in the cinema, but puzzled when he led her into the back row. Nevertheless, she presumed he had just followed Mike and Tressa, who were in front of them, and she sank into the seat in contentment.

No one had ever bought her a box of chocolates before and she took off the wrapper and looked in amazement at the selection. ‘All right?’ Steve asked.

‘More than all right, much more,’ Lizzie said, and, leaning over, she kissed Steve on the cheek. ‘Thank you.’

Steve felt expectation fill his body and Lizzie gave a sigh of contentment as the lights dimmed and she sat back to enjoy the film.

Evidently, Steve was uninterested in the film, for it had barely started when she felt his arm trail around her neck. She made no protest, though, until his hand cupped her breast, and then she gasped in shock. She shrugged her shoulder, hoping to dislodge his hand without disturbing the people in front of them. Steve, thinking Lizzie’s gasp was one of pleasure, began kissing and then gently biting her neck.

Lizzie threw Steve’s arm off roughly and moved away, sitting up straight in her seat. ‘Stop it.’

‘What? Stop what?’

‘All that sort of carry on.’

‘Oh for God’s sake, Lizzie.’

‘Look, whatever impression you had of me at the dance, I’m not that sort of girl.’

‘You could have fooled me.’

‘Yes, well, now you know.’

‘You agreed quick enough to come into the back row.’

‘Ssh,’ said someone in front of them. ‘Go and have your row someplace else. We’ve bought tickets for this film and want to see and hear it.’

‘Sorry,’ Lizzie responded, flaming with embarrassment.

Steve was smiling, but in the darkness she couldn’t see that. ‘Look around you,’ he whispered in her ear.

She did, and though she could see little she knew some of the people were in very odd positions altogether and her eyes widened in shock when she thought she saw Mike’s hand inside Tressa’s clothes. Maybe, she thought, you said you were up for things like that when you agreed to go into the back row. She didn’t know the rules for this place. They’d never had any type of cinema in Ballintra, but she had no intention of forgetting herself.

‘We’ll hold hands,’ she said.

‘Hold hands!’ Steve cried in dismay. He’d forgotten to lower his voice and the people in front glared around at them. ‘I’ll have a word with the usherette if you don’t pack it in.’

Mortified, Lizzie grasped Steve’s hand firmly. After all, she told herself, she hardly knew the man and he wasn’t her type at all. Holding hands was really all he could expect.