Sister's Trio Squad

Chapter 38

Chapter 38

From out of the pocket of the black dress the Manageress took a watch on a chain. 'It's nearly closing time, so you come back in the morning at seven-thirty sharp and we'll get you sorted out with your uniform, Miss O'Maxwell." 'Can I ask how much the wages are?'

'Not as much as you'd get along there on the corner, but fifteen shillings a week and your tips, of course, and a good girl can make quite a bit on her tips.'

'Oh, thank you, thank you, Miss..

'Mrs Craig.'

She should have known.

On her way out she uttered a thankful prayer. What did it matter that it was freezing cold and that the wind promised sleet? At last she'd got a decent job and she might get to know some of the staff from other shops. Maybe one could be persuaded to speak for her - in time. Lisa pulled her damp coat closer to her. It was worth getting it ruined. Now Andy would have to stick to his part of the bargain.

The sleet had become heavier as Lisa got off the tram on the corner of Bedford Road and she hurried along, her head down against the full blast of the wind coming off the Clyde. She'd have something to eat and then she'd go round to Andy's place and tell him. Wait until she told Bernie! Excitement bubbled up and she hardly felt the stinging cold on her cheeks.

She ran up the stairs and found everyone out. Then she remembered that Eileen had gone to enroll in the Library, now she had proved she could read well enough, and that Bernie and Archie were going for a drink straight after work to celebrate the fact that two of their friends were getting married, albeit under duress - Kirstie was pregnant. At least she wouldn't go up the aisle like that. She was glad now she'd held out. Andy could never say she'd trapped him. She made a sandwich of some fish paste and dry bread and brewed a cup of tea. Then she went and brushed her hair and put on the red skirt she'd worn for Margaret's wedding. She was prepared to do battle against the elements again.

Andy lived in a tenement in Norfolk Street that faced the Gorbals Cross - a square, stone monument, a Doric column at each corner, curving inwards to form a sort of spire. On each side of the spire was a clock and above that a wrought-iron cross. Inside, it contained niches with plinths and a drinking fountain, supplied with water from Loch Katrine in the Trossachs. It was a favourite place for men to gather and talk and argue and discuss their troubles and grievances. But at this time and in such weather, it was abandoned.

Lisa crossed the road and walked quickly towards the blackened building and turned into the entrance. She was about to climb the staircase when she stopped, hearing voices from the space under the stairs. Och, come on, darlin', haven't I always wanted yese!

Come on, I can't wait!'

It was Maggie Baird's voice. She was under the stairs with someone and Lisa knew what she was up to. The spaces under the stairs were always used for such purposes. She took another step.

Come on, Andy, wit's wrong with yese? Yese weren't like this the other night. She'll no' find out. Yese know I canna get enough o' yese! I'm no' like her, all cold an' holy.'

She froze. Surely she'd been mistaken! The wind had distorted the words. Then she heard his voice, calling Maggie's name, over and over!

That s**t! That w***e! He was with her! Lisa ran blindly back out into the street, and heedless of the traffic ran up the steps of the Cross and slumped down inside on a stone plinth. No! He couldn't do it! He couldn't, not with Maggie! Not after what he'd said. He loved her! He was going to marry her. She had a job! Her tortured mind conjured up images of him with Maggie, images that shocked and revolted her, but that wouldn't go away. And it wasn't the first time! While she had been away he had been with Maggie!

How long she sat there she didn't know, but suddenly she knew she was freezing, that her teeth were chattering and that she had to get home. Somehow, she had to get back. She grasped the ice-cold stone and dragged herself to her feet. In that black void her heart had frozen, too. It had turned to flint as icy-cold as the stone walls of Gorbals Cross. She would never forget his voice or that fiendish kaleidoscope of images.

Eileen was in when she finally got back and at the sight of her grey, pinched face and bloodless lips, the girl shot up and ran to her.

'Lisa! Lisa, what's the matter?'

Just get me a hot cup of tea, please." Eileen did as she was asked and Lisa drank it. "Will I heat up the brick and wrap it in the old cloth and put it in the bed?'

Lisa nodded, but she'd never feel warm ever again and she'd never sleep peacefully again either. She lay down, not even bothering to take off her coat and Eileen, her expression timorous, left her alone.

Next day was clear and crisp, the pavements were slippery with frost and the crowds, hurrying along to work, were muffled up against it. Lisa didn't even feel the wind as she got off the tram and went into Craig's Tea Shop.

She was given the black dress, starched white cap and apron to put on and shown the kitchen and told her duties, all of which she digested solemnly, with hardly a word passing her lips. The work gave her something else to concentrate on and, as the day wore on, feeling began to seep back into her heart. But it was no longer a feeling of frosted sorrow. It was a slowly burning flame of anger. A fury with herself, with Andy, with them all!

Mrs Craig noticed the change in her. 'Are you feeling quite well, Lisa, you look flushed and your eyes are very bright?"

'I'm fine, thank you, Mrs Craig. It's just a little warm in here.' She managed a smile. 'But I'll get used to it, don't worry."

By the time the shop closed, the slow fuse of her anger was nearing its end. The sun was just a slither of fiery red on the skyline and the tattered clouds were shot through with orange and vermilion, when she reached the Gorbals Cross. As usual there were groups of men standing around it, and, as usual, Andy was amongst them, as was Archie. Lisa straight ened her shoulders and jerked up her chin, her eyes blazing with fire as consuming as that of the setting sun.

Lisa, how did the job go?" Archie asked good naturedly, then seeing her face he frowned. She ignored Archie and pushed through the group and stopped in front of Andy.

Lisa! Archie said you'd got the job. I'm right glad for you, hen.' He'd never seen her look like this before. He'd never seen her so angry.

She flung the money she owed him at his feet. "That's what I owe you and I don't take the leavings of w****s like Maggie Baird, Andy MacDonald!'

Everyone had fallen silent and was staring at them both, but she saw only him. 'And this is what I think of you!' And with that she drew back her arm and with all the strength she could muster, slapped him hard across the face. Then she turned and walked away. Oblivious of the outraged and affronted looks cast at her, she knew exactly what she'd done and it had been intentional. She'd humiliated him in front of everyone. He, who was one of the hardest men in the Gorbals and feared by many. She'd hit him. A mere girl who just came up to his shoulder. Lisa O'Maxwell had grown up.

Nancy was trying to read Margaret's letter amidst the hustle and noise in the dressing room. The sound of Delia Heysham's shrill voice carried clearly along the corridor, demanding her mint tea. The star's dresser had fallen and twisted her ankle and her first assistant was now taking the full weight of responsibility and she'd obviously upset her mistress. Nancy had grown to hate Delia. She was an over-bearing tyrant who didn't spare anyone her tongue or her temper. Nancy's one night of glory seemed years ago now. She'd been good that night. She'd known it. George. and Edward had known it. The audience the had known it, and so had Delia and that was why Nancy had never been given another chance. But she'd had enough of hanging around, listening to Delia Heysham's tantrums and she'd tell Edward so. There were other shows, just as d. Helen was now in the chorus of another hit called "Sunny'. If only she could find some way to get rid of Delia for a few days, even a week, then he would have to listen to her demands.

Jeannie, the assistant dresser, would quite obviously be flustered and muddled. If only she could just think of something to put Miss Heysham out of action for a while. Her eyes went over the rows of bottles and phials on the table in front of her. They were mostly make-up and perfume, but her gaze alighted on a bottle printed with the words 'Eyelash-Dye'. That was it! She looked down to hide the excitement in her eyes. Everyone knew the stuff was only made up of root dyes. It wouldn't kill you. She began to pretend she was searching for something amongst the cosmetics.

'Has anyone got a pair of eyelash curlers, my lashes look like stair rods?' she enquired loudly, her hand closing over the small, dark bottle.

"Try using Vaseline,' came one answer. I've tried that, it doesn't work."

'I have, somewhere,' Laura Kent called back. 'Damn!' Nancy muttered. 'Hurry up then, Laura, we've not got all night.'

Laura tipped the contents of her make-up purse on to the table and began rummaging amongst them. 'Sorry, can't seem to find them. I could have sworn I put them in."

'Delia will have a pair,' someone else called. 'I'm not asking her,' Nancy stated vehemently.

'Go and ask Jeannie for them. Judging by the hysterics along there I don't think she'll bother too much about a pair of eyelash curlers. I'm sure Delia's are waxed into that

shape, like a moustache,' Laura laughed, pulling a face. Nancy grinned. 'I'll try, but if I come back covered in the famous mint tea, I'll hold you responsible, Laura Kent.'

Jeannie was harassed. 'What do you want?' she snapped on opening the door. 'You know Miss Heysham hates being disturbed.'

"Sorry. Could I borrow her eyelash curlers? I won't make a sound, I swear, please? I'll just creep in and out.' Nancy lowered her voice and made a sympathetic moue with her

lips. 'I know she's in one of her moods.' Jeannie, who's that and where IS my tea?' Tell her I've brought some Good Luck messages from

her admirers. Tell her . . . anything, please?' Nancy whis pered, pushing Jeannie gently back into the room. 'It's only Nancy. She's got some cards and messages.' 'I won't disturb you, Miss Heysham, I'll just pop them

in here, then you can look at them later on, at your

leisure.' Delia glared at her, then to her relief, she told Jeannie to shut the door before she caught pneumonia and started to pull at the flowers adorning her headband. 'It's not on tightly. I'll lose it. It will fall down over one eye. Is that what you want? To make a fool of me? Fix it. If you'd done it properly in the first place you wouldn't have to do it again, so take that look off your face now!"