The Serial: The Green Years, Day Nine Sandra Savage

Maisie’s eyes levelled with her enemy. His brown eyes were liquid with sorrow as his hand ran through the waves of dark hair falling on to his brow

The sweet aroma of butterscotch and chocolate filled the air as the two girls ‘clocked on’ at Keiller’s on Monday morning and headed to the Packing Department. The noise of chattering females and metal trays of chocolates being delivered to their tables for packing kept any conversation to a minimum and it was as Maisie and Chrissie were heading for the canteen that it happened. Maisie felt something hard hit her head and bounce off again, landing at her feet. Rubbing her head, she looked down to the floor, a butterscotch sweet wrapped in its golden paper lay at her feet.

She picked it up. Written on the paper in very small print were the words “look up”. Maisie and Chrissie looked up simultaneously and there, on top of a stack of wooden pallets were Kenny Wilson and Rab Skelly. “Hi girls,” Rab called, grinning. “Remember us?” Maisie frowned. What was Kenny Wilson up to? She thought she’d made it clear that she wanted nothing more to do with him! Both girls shrugged and after directing a scathing look at the lads, moved off.

Bristled

“Well, that went well,” said Kenny, sarcastically. “Any more brilliant ideas?”

“Chrissie gave me a dirty look as well,” he huffed. “It’s not just you that’s been dumped.”

Kenny felt his stomach tense. “I’ve not been dumped,” he announced, angrily. “It was me that dumped her, remember?”

“Then,” Rab bristled, “why are you so keen to get Maisie’s attention?”

“Simple,” came the reply. “It’s ‘cause makes a fool of and if it’s the last thing I do, it’ll be to get the better of Maisie Green.”

Rab raised his eyebrows. “Oh, yeah,” he retorted, “and how does that work then?”

“It works,” replied Kenny, warming to his topic, “when Miss Green agrees to go out with me and, well, does the term ‘Duffers’ Corner’ mean anything to you?”

“You mean?”

Kenny smiled and tightened his belt a notch. “The lovely lady is going to find out the hard way that you don’t mess with the big boys and get off with it.”

He slapped Rab on the back, “C’mon,” he said, “we’ve got work to do.”

“What was all that about?” Chrissie asked, as the girls made their way back to their work tables. “I was wondering that as well,” Maisie replied. “If it wasn’t so ridiculous, I’d think they were trying to get our attention.”

“Why is it ridiculous Maisie?” “Do I have to remind you of Keiller’s dance?” Maisie queried. Chrissie frowned. “Maybe Kenny’s sorry, or something’”

Chrissie shrugged her shoulders. “Well, I’ve got Tommy,” she reminded Maisie, wistfully, “so Rab Skelly can just get lost.”

The girls bent to their task of chocolate packing, but Maisie was confused. Could it possibly be that Kenny Wilson was sorry, really sorry! She considered her options. Go on ignoring him, let him worry about her feelings for a change or accept his apology, if that was what this was all about.

Discomfort

She made up her mind and focused her attention back on the job. Ignoring him, her ego decided, felt great. The rest of the week went by without any further approaches by Kenny, but Maisie never missed an opportunity to sweep past him in the canteen, avoiding all eye contact, as she chattered and giggled with the other girls in the tea queue.

“She doesn’t seem to be bothered, Kenny?” said Rab, watching Maisie over the rim of his mug on the Friday afternoon.

“It’s an act,” came the sharp reply.

“Quite the wee actress, then,” Rab countered, now quite enjoying Kenny’ discomfort. He was Kenny’s best mate, but there were times when he found his super-confidence a bit annoying, especially with women.

Kenny returned his mug to the table and stood up as Maisie headed towards the canteen door. “Follow me.”

The two lads caught up with Maisie as she turned into the corridor.

“Maisie,” Kenny called out. “Wait up.” Maisie turned, her defences primed and at the ready. Here was the apology that she had coming, she told herself. It was time for Kenny Wilson to grovel. “Well,” she said, primly, “what do you two want?” Rab stepped back, his hands raised in surrender. “Nothin’, Maisie,” he said. “It’s just Kenny wants a word.” Maisie’s eyes levelled with her enemy. His brown eyes were liquid with sorrow as his hand ran anxiously through the waves of dark hair falling on to his brow.

Maisie felt her knees go weak and her steely resolve soften slightly. “Have you got a minute, Maisie?” he asked, his voice taking on a slight tremor of emotion.

Maisie nodded. She suddenly had a lifetime of minutes for Kenny Wilson. He stretched out one arm and braced his hand against the wall at the side of Maisie, placing the other hand on his hip while contemplating the floor for ‘inspiration’.

Rab was mesmerised. Kenny was masterful. “Are you ever going to speak to me again?” he whispered, still keeping his eyes on his feet. Maisie felt her throat constrict.

“Maybe!” she said, hoarsely. Kenny felt his confidence rise. Now he’d go in for the kill. “Then how about,” he raised his eyes to meet hers, “me and you giving it another go?”

Resolve

Maisie felt the last of her resolve vanish. Maybe Kenny wasn’t exactly apologising, but he felt really sorry for laughing at her, she was sure of that.

Maisie nodded, “OK,” she replied, “if you like.” Kenny placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently. “I’ll get back to you on that one Maisie,” he smarmed, “soon, very soon.”

With those words, he turned to Rab. “Palais tonight?” he said. Rab nodded, in complete awe of Kenny Wilson’s power over women. “And who knows,” he turned back to Maisie, “maybe the girl of my dreams will turn up there as well.”

Maisie stood perfectly still as she watched the back of Kenny Wilson disappear down the corridor. Was that a suggestion, or an invitation, or a heavy date! Maisie had to find Chrissie, and quick.

They had to get organised for going dancing tonight at the Palais de Dance. The girl of Kenny’s dreams was going to be her.

When Maisie finally got her legs to move again, she hurried back to her work table. “Chrissie,” she hissed, motioning her friend to follow her to the Ladies.

Chrissie looked round, Mrs Hutcheson, the Supervisor was deep in conversation with the Bonus Checker, Ella Smart. She nodded to Maisie and quietly sidled towards the door and out into the corridor.

More tomorrow.