The Serial: The Green Years, Day Two

By the time six o’clock came round, Maisie was ready for anything...

Chrissie beamed. That would be better than the pencil skirt and the poppies would go well with the flowery blouse. “Done,” she said, packing the shoes back into their box and handing it to Maisie. Things were looking good. “Meet me outside Paiges tomorrow at 10 and I’ll bring the skirt with me.”

So, it was agreed, both girls happy with the swap and each already dreaming of the big night. They had a last smoke, before Maisie left for home, clutching the shoebox tightly to her and running all the way, as the drizzle worsened into a downpour.

The lights were on and the door unlocked when Maisie returned home. Her mother was watching the telly but switched it off when her daughter came into the room.

With hands on her hips and a fag on her lips, she confronted her daughter. “Do you think we’re made o’ money?” she asked a puzzled Maisie. “No?” “Then how did you manage to leave the fire on again when you went out?”

Maisie flinched. “Forgot,” she said lamely, her face flushing with guilt.

“And,” her irate mother continued, shaking the empty tin in front of Maisie, “where’s your board money?”

“Sorry,” she said, “forgot again,” as she rummaged for her purse in her handbag, extracting £2 and giving it to her mother.

Mrs Green shook her head, sending cigarette ash floating down on to the carpet below, and turned back to the television, switching it on and settling down again in her chair.

Maisie slipped out of the room and upstairs to her bedroom. She knew things were hard since her dad had injured his back and had to give up work but she soon put the thought from her head. Tomorrow was her big chance with Kenny Wilson and tonight she would dream of how wonderful it was all going to be.

Dressed to impress Maisie was waiting outside Paiges Dress Shop for Chrissie to arrive. There it was, in the window, the dress that would win the heart of Kenny Wilson. Maisie was lost in her reverie when Chrissie tapped her on the shoulder, excitement evident in her eyes.

“Guess who I’ve just seen,” she giggled, “only Kenny Wilson and Rab Skelly.” Chrissie went on rapidly, “they were coming out of Jacksons Tailors and they had on black drape jackets with a bit of velvet round the collar and tight, tight drainpipes.” Chrissie clasped her hands and looked skywards, “and Rab had blue suede beetle crushers on.”

Maisie looked towards the Murraygate in anticipation of seeing her ‘beloved’ but the lads had disappeared. “C’mon,” she said, “let’s buy that frock.” The shop girl was small and very neat and smiled as she removed the dress from the window and presented it to Maisie.

“It’s all the rage,” she said eagerly, indicating the sweetheart neckline and full skirt. “And it’s the last one in the shop,” she added, “you’re lucky it’s not been sold.”

“Size 16,” Maisie read, in a disappointed voice, “but I’m only a 14!”

The assistant held the dress up against Maisie, “nothing a wee bit of padding wouldn’t change,” she said, winking. “Everybody’s doing it nowadays.” Maisie and Chrissie exchanged glances. “Really?” The girl nodded knowingly and pointed to her own pert bosom.

“A couple of wee shoulder pads will do the trick,” she advised them, “tucked into your bra.”

Maisie got the picture. “I’ll take it,” she announced boldly. How would Kenny be able to resist her, with a bust like Diana Dors.”

The girls hurried from the shop giggling at their bravado. “Are you really going to do it, Maisie?” “You’ll just have to wait and see,” she replied coyly, wondering herself how she would look.

“Come round at six o’clock,” Maisie said “and tonight, we’ll show them office lassies from Keiller’s what sex appeal is all about.”

Chrissie giggled louder. “See you at six,” she called, heading off to Woolworths to buy a new ‘lippie’, “and thanks for the skirt.”

“It’s only me,” Maisie called as she popped her head round the living room door and held up the shop bag. Her mother turned to her daughter and tutted.

“Wasting more money,” she said dismissively, turning back to the telly and the hunched back of her husband, who sat silently selecting horses to bet on, at that day’s racing at Ayr.

Maisie shrugged. How could her mother possibly understand the importance of the contents of the Paiges bag? She’d never been in love, except maybe with the bingo.

She ran upstairs, unpacked her purchase and met her first problem. She had NO shoulder pads! She searched through the chest of drawers without luck then tried the wardrobe but the only shoulder pads she could find were sewn into her only winter coat. They were a bit big and would have to be taken out from under the lining but they’d have to do.

Maisie began the unpicking. With great difficulty and a good deal of manoeuvring, Maisie finally managed to force the wide white shoulder pads out of the coat and inside her bra. The results were amazing. She stood in front of the wardrobe mirror as two round orbs appeared over the top of her bra. She had a cleavage!

Carefully, she slipped the dress over her lacquered head and allowed it to settle over her hips. It was a bit loose from the waist down but up top... WOW! Tonight she was going to be a sensation.

Perfect By the time six o’clock came round, Maisie was ready for anything, hair perfect, makeup perfect, shoes perfect, dress nearly perfect and cleavage stunning. She couldn’t wait to see Kenny Wilson’s face when he saw her wonderfulness.

She wrapped her cream duster coat over the dress before answering Chrissie’s knock. “Well?” asked her friend, eagerly, “are they .... ?” “You’ll see,” came the coy reply, “when we get to Kidds.”

By the time the bus had disgorged the pair at their destination, Dundee was getting into full Saturday night swing. Teddy boys were everywhere, hanging around the street corners eyeing up the girls as they flounced past in their high heels and swirling skirts, on their way to the night’s dancing at the JM Ballroom or the Palais but for Maisie and Chrissie, there was only one place to be and that was Kidds Ballroom and Keiller’s Dance.

The marble entrance was crowded with office girls in taffeta evening dresses and men in suits all heading for the cloakrooms and the bar, respectively.

More tomorrow