Esther Green sensed something had changed in her daughter, but for the life of her she couldn’t think what

Maisie and Chrissie headed to the cloakroom for their coats. “Are you all right, Maisie?” Chrissie asked gently. She knew how much this night had meant to her pal and, now, it had ended in heartbreak for her again. She was glad that she had Tommy Murphy to love, even if it was on paper, but he’d be back in Dundee soon when his ship docked for repairs and then she’d know for sure if he really, really, did love her like he’d said in his letters.

The girls left the dance hall and emerged into the darkness of a cold Scottish night.

The walk to their bus stop would be a chilly one after the heat of the dance hall but as they hurried away their departure was being watched from the doorway by Ian Brown.

He’d seen it all, and when the bouncers had chucked the two drunks out he’d realised that if that was who Maisie had left him at the table for, then he had a chance with her and, somehow, he’d find a way to get close to her again.

He lit a cigarette and walked to his car, parked in the Nethergate. Rebel whined at his approach, his tail now wagging as Ian opened the car door and clipped on his lead.

Silence

He’d take a walk down by Magdalen Green, let Rebel off the lead for a bit, before reporting for duty at the NCR. Security dog handler, Ian Brown liked the night shift.

Between patrolling the factory grounds and checking everything was securely locked at the National Cash Register Company, he had plenty of time to think about life, and Ian thought a lot.

But, tonight he would be thinking about one thing only and that would be how he could win the heart of Maisie Green.

The bus ride home was taken in silence, Chrissie lost in thoughts of Tommy Murphy and Maisie tired and angry, both with herself and the events with drunken Kenny Wilson.

He was certainly giving her mixed messages and, at the age 16, she was having great difficulty translating the “code of love”.

She felt it was no longer a case of ‘just saying NO,’ it was more like who to say YES to? Everybody around Maisie seemed to be “in the know” when it came to affairs of the heart.

She’d seen couples everywhere, smiling and holding hands as they strolled through life together but for her it seemed more like an uphill struggle than a stroll.

Then, there was her mum and dad. Was this what love was all about? Nearly every night, they sat watching the telly until it was bedtime, never speaking much, except to share a last cup of tea and biscuit before turning in. Was that her future, too?

Chrissie’s nudge broke into her thoughts. “C’mon,” she said, “it’s our stop.” The girls alighted into the cold and darkness. “See you later,” Chrissie’s sleepy voice whispered.

Maisie blinked back at her. “Yeah,” she said woodenly. “See you later.”

Chrissie hesitated but couldn’t think of anything helpful to say, as Maisie walked off towards home, her head filled with thoughts of what she wanted her life to be like and not what it was turning out to be.

She had dreams of “knights in shining armour” crossing the burning desert to rescue her or being swept off her feet by a handsome suitor, bold and brave, somebody who was ready to lay down his life to protect her.

Determined

She turned into the garden gate and looked around her into the dimness of the street. But, what had she really got – the attention of a drunken Kenny Wilson and a job as a chocolate packer in a sweetie factory.

Maisie sighed. Right now, she wished she was anyone but Maisie Green. “You’re early,” her mother’s voice called out when Maisie looked into the living room.

She took in the scene. It was the same as usual, the TV switched on, lives switched off. “Make your dad and me a cuppa will you, before you go to bed. My bunions are giving me jip.”

Maisie smiled sadly. “Sure thing mum,” she said, “and a biccy?” Mrs Green nodded, her eyes never leaving the television set.

Maisie set about the task. She loved her mum and dad but she was determined that their fate wouldn’t be hers. Something had to change and it was up to Maisie to make it change.

She didn’t quite know how she was going to do this but, somehow, she felt certain she would. She’d talk things over with Chrissie tomorrow. Maybe she knew the answer, maybe not, but for now, she would make tea for all three of them, then sleep on it and forget all about tonight.

Despite everything, Maisie slept well and woke with a determined resolve that her life must change. She looked around the small bedroom, with its faded wallpaper and linoleum floor covering.

The lampshade in the centre of the ceiling, with its tired fringe, looked back.

Her bed was all right, she decided, but the pink candlewick bedspread had seen better days and as for the basket chair in the corner, where she usually kept her pyjamas, it was only fit for the bin.

She threw back the bedclothes and pushed her feet into her woolly slippers. After breakfast, she’d make a plan. Yes, that’s what she’d do, make a plan to first change her bedroom and then change her life.

Maisie felt a rush of energy. At last she was taking control of her future and it was going to be wonderful. And it didn’t include Kenny Wilson.

Changed

She could smell bacon frying and her appetite sharpened – nothing like a bacon roll to get your tastebuds wakened up.

Esther Green was cutting and spreading the Aberdeen butteries when her daughter came into the kitchen.

“Morning, mum,” Maisie beamed. “Can I have an egg roll as well as a bacon one?”

Her mother eyed her warily. “You seem bright and breezy for a Saturday morning,” she said. “That early night’s done you some good, then?”

Mrs Green cracked an egg into the hot fat, before placing the bacon roll in front of her daughter and pouring her a cup of tea.

She sensed something had changed in her daughter, but for the life of her she couldn’t think what.

“I’ve been wondering,” Maisie began, as her mother flipped the fried egg over before tipping it on to another roll and adding it to the bacon roll already on Maisie’s plate.

“Oh aye,” she said, a slight unease creeping into her voice, hoping against hope that Maisie wasn’t going to start asking her awkward questions about men.

More tomorrow.