The Serial: The Green Years, Day 21

Chrissie stood up and threw her arms around Maisie. “You’re the best friend anyone could ever have,” she said, hoarsely

Chrissie, who had been beginning to relax, felt her muscles tense again. “Don’t you want your bridie?” she asked naively. “Mum’ll heat them up again in the oven when we get home.” Tommy felt himself sweat. He was being invited to eat with the family! He searched for polite words to excuse his lack of appetite, but found none, as his eyes were desperately seeking out a bus stop.

“Over there,” he said, already opening the door as the car slowed into the kerb. Without another word, his hands sweating and his breathing coming in short gasps, he ran to the other side of the road, disappearing into the waiting queue.

“Well!” Grace exclaimed to her husband. “So much for manners.”

The Daltons drove home, each unable to break into the ice that surrounded them with Tommy’s rapid departure.

John Dalton was just glad that his daughter was safe, Grace Dalton was unhappy that Chrissie had lied to her, while Chrissie sat twirling her silver bracelet round and round her wrist in tearful silence.

Uncertainty

The bridies were never eaten, as no one had an appetite any more.

The warm and friendly atmosphere that usually prevailed in the Dalton home had somehow dispersed and had been replaced by an uncertainty about the future, especially Chrissie’s.

“Will you be seeing him again?” Grace asked gently, aware at how much her daughter was hurting. Chrissie shrugged her shoulders, her eyes still fixed on Tommy’s bracelet.

“Maybe he’ll write soon,” Grace began but Chrissie cut her dead, her eyes like black coals. “What do you care, if he writes or not,” she shouted, tears beginning to flow again, “He loved me,” she said, “and I loved him, and now it’s all over.”

Chrissie ran from the room. It was all too much and, blinded by tears, she found herself on Maisie’s doorstep.

Maisie didn’t have to ask what was wrong, as she guided Chrissie through to her bedroom. It was plain to see that, for whatever reason, Tommy Murphy was no more.

She sat on the edge of her bed while Chrissie sniffed and gulped and mopped her red-rimmed eyes with her sodden handkerchief.

“Tea?” asked Maisie tentatively.

Chrissie shook her head and rummaged instead into her handbag for her cigarettes. “Do you mind?” she asked tearfully, indicating the packet.

Maisie did mind, she was now a non-smoker and would have to get rid of the smell of smoke from her bedroom somehow, after Chrissie had gone. But Chrissie’s distress won the day.

She smiled and nodded, before crossing the room and opening the window. “I met your mum in D.M. Browns today,” Maisie began, knowing, somehow, that fateful meeting had triggered the unhappiness in front of her. “She said you were at Forfar – with me?”

Chrissie scrunched her handkerchief into a damp ball. “I know,” she said, her eyes never meeting Maisie’s. “And I was at Forfar, but I went with Tommy. Sorry I lied.”

Maisie sighed. “So, what happened?” “When Mum realised I wasn’t with you, she panicked and her and Dad came looking for me.”

“They came to Forfar?”

Grimaced

Chrissie grimaced at the memory. “They found me and Tommy kissing,” she looked up at Maisie, her eyes begging understanding. “He loves me, Maisie, and I love him. He gave me this.”

She extended her left arm and pulled up her cardigan sleeve. Maisie looked closer. “It’s a silver bracelet,” she whispered, awed at the pretty gift on Chrissie’s wrist. “He must really love you to buy you jewellery.”

She looked into the eyes of her friend. “So, why so sad?” Maisie asked. “You should be happy to have found a real man who really loves you.”

Chrissie’s head dropped again, just as ash from her cigarette fell onto Maisie’s floor. There was silence as the two girls gazed at the fallen ash.

“Here,” Maisie said, handing Chrissie a little trinket dish. “If he loves me Maisie,” Chrissie asked, quietly, “why did he run away?”

The final part of the puzzle fell into place, as Chrissie told of the car ride back from Forfar.

Tommy Murphy may have wanted Chrissie, Maisie surmised, but he didn’t want her enough to meet her mum and dad.

“What’ll you do now?” she asked, knowing there was no real answer. Chrissie shrugged and lit another cigarette, inhaling the smoke deeply and blowing it out towards the window in respect for Maisie’s pride in her revamped bedroom.

“His ship sails tomorrow,” she said, “so unless he comes to find me, he’ll be gone by Monday and I’ll never see him.” The tears began to flow again.

Maisie looked at her friend. So here it was again but this time it had happened to Chrissie. Was there no one a girl could trust? Not Kenny Wilson, not Jack Carter, not Tommy Murphy, no one?

“C’mon,” she said to Chrissie. “Let’s get some fresh air and make a plan for the future for you.” She wasn’t at all sure what that plan might be, but her eyes were beginning to smart with the tobacco smoke and her lovely room was almost disappearing into the haze.

Chrissie stood up and threw her arms around Maisie. “You’re the best friend anyone could ever have,” she said, hoarsely, “and I’m sorry I shouted at you in the canteen and I’m sorry I lied about Forfar and are we still friends?”

Watchful

Maisie unhooked herself from Chrissie’s grasp. “Always,” she said, and meant it. “Now let’s get out of here. Tomorrow’s another day and, who knows what that will bring.”

Chrissie nodded, “Isn’t it horrible being 16,” she said philosophically. “I wish I was 19 and settled down, then I wouldn’t have to go through all this boyfriend stuff and get hurt so much.”

“Maybe 17 will be better” Maisie mused, also not wanting to be hurt again by a man. “But whatever happens,” she added, linking her arm into Chrissie’s as they stepped out into the sunshine, “you know we’ve got each other.”

Maisie began her new role as a trainee bonus checker under the watchful eye of the pregnant Ella Smart. “There’s a lot to learn” said Ella, “and you’ve got to be good with your sums.”

She looked at Maisie for a nod of agreement before continuing. Maisie had two weeks to learn the job and then she’d be on her own, so all thoughts about men would be put aside until she conquered the paperwork. She couldn’t afford to get any of the packers’ bonus money wrong, especially not Betty Morrison. She shivered at the thought.

More tomorrow.