The Serial:

The Green Years, Day 19

Maisie brought her mind back to work. Mrs Hutchieson was to have spoken to their manager, Willie Pratt, about her becoming a bonus checker and today she’d find out if he’d OK’D it. But Maisie needn’t have worried. Mrs Hutchieson called her over the minute she came to her table. “It’s all arranged,” she told Maisie. “Next week, you’re to work with Ella. She’ll show you what to do and then, two weeks from now, you’ll take over the job by yourself.”

Mrs Hutchieson beamed at Maisie. “I’ve put my reputation on the line to get you this job,” she said, “so don’t let me down.” Maisie stood up, proudly. “Thank you, Mrs Hutchieson,” she said, “for everything you’ve done for me and I won’t let you down.”

Head held higher than normal, Maisie returned to her work table. She had carefully worded her thanks with what she called a “posh” voice, just like the one she’d heard Fiona Campbell use. That was what made people classy, she realised, it was the way they spoke!

Persevered

Plan B began to form. Maisie decided she would practice speaking like Fiona until she sounded just like her. Simple. For the rest of the week, Maisie and Chrissie lived in their heads, Chrissie imagining kissing Tommy as he told her he loved her and Maisie practising her vowels and words ending with ‘ing’.

This wasn’t as easy as she’d hoped. Her voice was sounding alien to her and she was attracting strange looks from her fellow packers every time she spoke.

“She’s turned into a right wee snob since they’ve made her a bonus checker,” Betty Morrison was telling anyone who would listen to her.

But Maisie persevered. If she was going to reinvent herself, she had to be strong and kept telling herself that if Fiona Campbell could do it, so could she.

Chrissie breezed over to their table in the canteen on the Friday at teabreak. “I can’t wait until tomorrow,” she said wistfully. “I’m meeting Tommy at the dock gates at 11 o’clock and we’re going to spend all day together.”

“All day?” Maisie asked. “Is your mum all right with that?” “Oh, she doesn’t know,” Chrissie whispered. “She thinks the letters I’ve been getting are from a pen pal in Orkney.” Maisie blinked in surprise. “And she believes that!” Chrissie hung her head. “I know it’s wrong,” she said softly, “but I can’t tell her about Tommy, not yet anyway, not until I know how he feels.”

Maisie suddenly realised just how much Chrissie was banking on Tommy Murphy being “the one”.

“But what if it doesn’t work out as you hope?” she asked covering her friend’s hand with her own. Chrissie pulled her hand away, her eyes bleak.

“Just because things didn’t work out for you, Maisie Green, doesn’t mean they won’t for me.”

Maisie was stunned. She’d never seen this side of Chrissie before and wasn’t sure how to respond.

“I didn’t mean anything, Chrissie,” she tried to reassure her. “Just be careful, that’s all I was saying.”

Chrissie pushed her chair away from the table and stood up. “I can look after myself,” she said defiantly. “And Tommy does love me,” she added. “Just you wait and see.”

With these words, Chrissie left a confused Maisie alone in the canteen.

Tears

Chrissie hurried back to her work table before any tears could begin. Maisie had touched on her big fear – that Tommy Murphy had been stringing her along and, when the time came to meet again, he’d see her for what she was: a mousey, boring chocolate packer, with nothing to offer a man of the world like him.

Not wanting to repeat the unsettling experience at the canteen, Chrissie avoided any contact with Maisie for the rest of the day and took a later bus home.

Tomorrow would be wonderful, she told herself, and Maisie Green, well, what did she know about love anyway.

Saturday morning dawned bright and clear as Chrissie prepared for her date with Tommy.

“You look nice,” Grace Dalton said, as she scrambled eggs for their breakfast. “Are you meeting Maisie later?”

This was it, the truth or a lie. “Yes,” she lied. “We’re going out for the day on the bus to Forfar.”

Mrs Dalton’s eyes opened a little wider in surprise. “Forfar,” she echoed. “What’s going on there?”

Chrissie began to feel hot and uncomfortable, lying didn’t come easily to her and especially lying to her mother.

“Nothing, really,” Chrissie replied. “We just fancied a change from the Dundee shops, that’s all.”

Grace Dalton laughed. “Well, in that case, you can bring me back a Forfar bridie. I’m told they’re great.”

Chrissie froze. How had she managed to get herself boxed into this corner and now her mother would be expecting her to bring home a bridie of all things.

“I’ll try,” she said, focusing her attention on her eggs and toast and willing her mother to drop the subject of Forfar.

She wished she hadn’t fallen out with Maisie. She’d have been the perfect cover for her clandestine meeting with Tommy and she just prayed that her mother wouldn’t run into her and discover the truth.

By the time the clock was at half past ten, Chrissie was a bag of nerves. She felt nauseous and shaky. If this was what love felt like, she thought, she wasn’t at all sure if it was for her.

Pushing her misgivings out of her mind she closed the front door behind her and caught the bus into Dundee. The walk to the Dock Gates at Dock Street, helped to settle her stomach a bit, but her legs were still wobbling when she crossed the wide road leading to her fate.

Perplexed

Chrissie’s fears vanished as Tommy Murphy waved and ran towards her. He gathered her up in his arms and held her tightly. “I was scared you wouldn’t come,” he said huskily. “I’ve been waiting here since 10 o’clock.”

“I was scared you wouldn’t come,” Chrissie told him, giggling at her nerves and the now-ridiculous notion that Tommy didn’t care about her.

Keeping his arm around her waist, Tommy guided her out of the gates. “Where do you want to go?” he asked, grinning.

“Forfar,” came the immediate reply. “Where’s that?” asked a perplexed Tommy, barely knowing Dundee, never mind this place called Forfar. “It’s in the country,” Chrissie said. “We can get a bus from the bus station and have Forfar bridies for our dinner.”

Tommy had never heard of Forfar bridies, either, but if that’s what Chrissie wanted to do, then that’s what they’d do.

“Lead the way,” he said. “I don’t care where we go, as long as we’re together.” Chrissie’s whole body thrilled to the words.

Maisie had touched on her big fear – that Tommy Murphy had been stringing her along

Sandra Savage