Gordon was a worried man. He'd risked a lot for very little. He'd done something foolish and was very apprehensive about the possible consequences.
It was something he wasn't proud of and he was terrified that Margaret might find out about what had happened. "How strange life is,"he thought, "I've spent all these years trying to sort the world's problems out and now I've had one evening of madness and put my own little world at risk! It's no good blaming Joyce. I'm just as much at fault!"
Joyce Jackson had acquired a new car. In 1938 not many women knew how to drive cars, and very few owned one, so Joyce was one of the first to drive herself around the Lancaster and Morecambe area. She was a determined, independent young woman. She knew what she wanted. She knew how to have things her own way.
Her manipulating of men, including her own father, was a favourite pastime. The joy, the pleasure, the satisfaction in twirling them around her little finger! The power of her smile and other physical attractions! Most women act instinctively in the war of the sexes, usually defensively. Joyce was different. She had battle plans and long-term strategies. She liked taking the initiative, seizing the moment, catching men off-guard! She loved winning!
She also had a weakness: Gordon Watson. She still wanted him, despite his choosing her friend Margaret as his wife. Her losing him rankled. Maybe it was just perversity because she had lost him to her best friend and she hated not winning. Perhaps she really loved him. Certainly she had the hots for him! She bided her time. She'd think of something.
"You're not finished with me yet Gordy my love!"she decided.
In the meantime, she was preoccupied with enjoying life. Living in her father's pub she had plenty of chances for meeting a wide variety of attractive men. She took full advantage of the opportunities this offered. As well as having dates with local males, she'd been out with many visitors to the town.
Nan told Frank, "That one's too fast for you!"
"Be quiet mother! Joyce is a good sort! Heart of gold!"
Some of the men staying in Morecambe came in their own posh cars. Some of the most expensive were parked prominently outside a lovely art deco hotel, The Midland on the sea-front overlooking Morecambe Bay. She went in there occasionally for a meal, a drink and to find suitable boyfriends. She was usually successful. She knew how to pick a winner and was often taken for a good time to Blackpool or the Lake District.
Big-time music hall artists stayed at the hotel every week. She never made it with any of the top stars. They would be appearing just across the road at the Winter Gardens. Worldy-wise and experienced performers, they were always wary of Joyce's gold-digging ways.
Occasionally, she stayed overnight with a man friend in good hotels in distant locations. She enjoyed living-it-up in expensive places. By accepting gifts and money to buy things from the more wealthy amongst them it did not occur to her that she was prostituting herself. It was all part of having a good time.
By 1937 she had her regulars. By 1938 there was one in particular. Morecambe was known as 'Little Bradford'. Many people retired from Yorkshire to Morecambe. Others commuted on the "Businessmens Special", a steam train which left Promenade Station early every morning. It went via Lancaster Green Ayre along the Midland Railway line following the Lune Valley to Leeds and Bradford.
Joe Treacle's factory was in Leeds. His firm made garments for the clothing trade. He accumulated plenty of money when he landed a big contract for army uniforms from the government. A serious program of re-arming and expansion of the armed forces was under way.
Joe's was one of many businesses which profited as the country prepared for war.
He owned a big house, near the Broadway Hotel in Morecambe. The first time Joyce met him was in her father's pub. She was serving behind the bar. It was a quiet mid-week evening just after the Autumn Illuminations had finished.
"Fancy a drink, love?"he asked her.
"Oh thank you! Yes, I'll have a brandy and soda please."
She brought her drink to his end of the bar, looked straight into his eyes and gave him the famous Joyce smile.
"Bottoms up!"
"Bottoms up!"
Joe was often away from his home on business. Joyce began to accompany him. During the daytime she'd do the shops or go to the flicks. He kept his business appointments. They'd spend the evening dining and wining and then sleep together overnight. She knew how to work all of the angles by then so she did not come cheaply. Joe thought that Joyce was good value for money. Her cost figured in his accounts under 'sundries'.
He was a bit on the fat side and balding but he was jovial, generous and good company. He was kind to her but she'd heard him on a hotel phone giving a hard time to a subordinate who was not working to his satisfaction. She heard him being nastily abusive and the heavy-handed boss. There was obviously a rude, cruel streak in him. She was under no illusion as to why he was so nice to her. It was one big act. His idea of charming himself into her knickers. She did not care because she was using him too.
He thought she was very fond of him. It did not occur to him that his only attraction was his money and what it offered her. "Vain sod!"Joyce thought. "All I want from you is an open wallet!"
She'd enjoyed the freedom of the open road and going places with Joe. She decided to save up and buy a car of her own. Her father gave her fifty pounds towards its purchase and Joe gave her more. She paid for a few lessons and failed two tests. It did not deter her. She decided to buy a vehicle anyway and risk being stopped by the police and found not to have a driving licence or insurance.
She bought a second-hand MG sports car from Pye's garage opposite Green Ayre Railway Station. The manager took her for a ride in it. With the hood down and her chiffon scarfe and blonde hair blowing in the breeze she felt like glamour personified.
She decided there and then that the car would suit her image. She paid cash. She'd withdrawn a fistful of fivers from her bank account that morning. The manager was delighted and over-polite with his mouthy "Thank you madams!"
He escorted her from his office back to the car and handed her the keys.
"I'm sure you'll enjoy the car madam."
The mechanic grinned when he went on, "And don't forget, we'll be glad to service you whenever it's needed."
"You bet!" he whispered in his boss's ear.
The driver's door was hinged halfway down its body. Joyce eased herself onto the driver's seat and swung her legs inside. As she did so, she treated the manager and a mechanic to a broad American smile. They waved and wished her good luck as she let in the clutch and crashed the gears. She drove off, smirking.
"You did well there boss,"said the mechanic, "her paying the asking price. That motor's been a lot of trouble. She'll be back to us soon.."
She parked the car in Dalton Square. She gave the British Legion attendant there the usual penny for a parking ticket. He saluted her his hand touching his peaked cap. "Thank you madam."
Next she went to see her dentist. She saw him regularly for check-ups and cleaning of her gums. She was as proud of her teeth as she was the rest of her assets. She did her best to keep everything in top condition all in smooth running order.
"For heaven's sake,"she'd said to Margaret, "why don't you have your teeth seen to? They're all going rotten."
Aware of this, Margaret had taken to smiling with her lips together, because her front teeth were so blackened and brown.
"It's all right for you, Joyce,"she responded, "you've money to throw away as you like. We're not penniless but we're saving hard. That new house we want is more important than my teeth!"
Many people had poor mouths then, and could not afford anything other than emergency treatment. Joyce was exceptional in having a full-set of gleaming molars all her own. Film-star quality was what she aimed for! She tried to emulate her celluloid heroines. They all flashed manufactured, magnificent, gnashers when they smiled on the silver screens of the local cinemas. She fantasised, imagining herself to be Morecambe's answer to the glittering stars of stage and screen.
Joyce was 26 years old. It was old enough to be seen as being on the shelf. If you were not married at that age you might have missed the boat. She did not feel she was missing anything. She was still pushing the boat out! She felt glamorous in her fashionable clothes, purchased in Leeds, Bradford, Manchester or Liverpool. Wherever Joe took her she had the time and money to buy the latest fashions for herself. He liked her to have a fresh hair-do and he paid for her weekly visit to the best stylists.
Her hair was shorter than before and her skirts a bit longer. Her legs were as lovely as ever. No scorch marks on hers! Her breasts were still firm. She felt good about herself. Really good, as she waltzed out of the dentist's!
She went back to her car. She waved to the British Legion veteran. She started the car, crashed the gears again and drove jerkily to her friend Margaret's house.
As usual, their conversation revolved around the doings of Margaret's two children. They wondered how Michael would take to school. He was due to start at St Anne's further down Edward Street as soon as the Christmas holidays were over.
Margaret was delighted for her friend, when she went outside and was shown the new car. "You've come a long way since we were in Wales love. No searching the slag heap for bits of coal now!" Michael thought it was super.
Margaret felt embarrassed after she mentioned a slag heap. She remembered what Gordon had told her about Frank and Joyce's behaviour on the coal in Nan's cellar on Coronation Day.
"Slag on a slag heap!"Gordon had sneered when he'd finished telling his wife what he'd seen. Joyce did not react.
It was dark outside and Joyce realised she didn't know how to put the car's lights on."Can you put your parlour light on for me?" she asked. "It might give me enough to see where the switches are."
Margaret went back inside and did as she'd been asked, and Joyce quickly found the switch and on came the lights.
"I'm off to the Odeon now," Joyce said as Margaret watched her friend from her doorstep. "There's a musical I want to see. See you in a fortnight! I'll take you for a ride then Michael."
Neighbours were peering out from behind their lace curtains. Cars were a rarity in the street then.
There was flash of stocking-tops, white thighs and underwear as she swung into her car. She slammed the car door and revved the engine After a bumpy start away she went to the car park at the side of the cinema.
"What a girl!" Margaret exclaimed to Michael.
"She's nice isn't she Mam?"Michael responded enthusiastically.
"Yes love,"Margaret agreed. "We've been best friends for a long time."
"Just like me and Rob?" he quizzed.
"That's right love. But ever so much longer."
Joyce came out of the Odeon just before nine p.m. Her timing was just right for what she had in mind. Her expectations were high. Her adrenalin was flowing. The feelings aroused in her while watching the temptress seduce the hero in the film had made her determined to go after her man.
She drove slowly along King Street, turned the corner and headed for the Trades Hall. She knew that Gordon would be there in a meeting. She parked about fifty yards away from the entrance. She had not long to wait. Soon, men started to leave the place and she saw Gordon Watson chatting in the lit doorway with his friend, Brian Howson. It was to be Brian's last evening at the union meetings.
"There's no point,"he told Gordon, "I'm never going back to Williamson's. I'm earning more in my new job."
Joyce drove up alongside them, stopped and called out, "Hello boys! Fancy seeing you here at this time of night!"
Gordon did not know how to react. Joyce had been his girlfriend about ten years ago. He'd dropped her and taken-up with Margaret. Now he was thirty-four and long-married. But she was single and still only in her mid-twenties. He'd heard from his brother that she was very much available. How to react when there was no Margaret around to watch him?
He hadn't met Joyce often since they'd parted. He had mixed feelings about her. He showed disapproval in public. In private, he remembered her as the first girl with whom he'd had it away. She had been and still was an exciting physical presence.
Brian was the first to respond to her greeting. He expressed surprise at her being behind the wheel of a car.
"Going up in the world aren't we?"
Brian knew Joyce from the old days when they had all been part of the Winter Gardens' crowd.
He pointed to the car as he made his remark. She smiled back at him.
"Nice isn't it? Only bought it today. Went to Pyes for it! Quite a bargain really!"
"Oh yeah, I'm sure. If you have the necessary brass."
"Well I have, haven't I?"
Brian had heard rumours about Joyce.
"I'm sure you've earned every penny for it."
"That's right!"She smiled again. "I paid them cash. Plenty more where that came from!"
"I dare say,"said Brian, keeping his smile going and without allowing a trace of disapproval to creep into his voice.
She chatted with him for a while then he said that he'd have to be off home. She focused her full attention on Gordon. She flashed her white teeth at him.
"I was round yours earlier. I hear you're moving house soon."
Gordon responded politely. He gave her some details of the proposed move. She kept on looking straight at him giving him the eye while he talked. He knew her of old and what she was up to. She sensed his vulnerability.
When she said, "Would you like to go for a ride?"it was a defining moment for Gordon.
He paused then said, "Yes, that would be nice."
Brian raised an eyebrow -- but said nothing.
She leaned over and opened the passenger side door.
"Jump in then! Let's be off!"
Without hesitation, he went round the other side of the car, slid in beside her and she revved up.
"Good-night, lads!"she called ou, offering them a cheery wave as they sped off. Gordon beamed at Brian and one or two others from work who had gathered outside the Hall. They were all watching and listening to what was going on.
Gordon had a surge of exhilaration within himself He felt the years roll back. He was fifteen years younger again. He was going to recapture his lost youth! He waved to the lads.
"See you!"called Brian. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."
The other mates laughed.
"That one always was trouble!"said Brian ruefully.
"Yes,"said another, "just the sort of trouble I could do with a bit of!"
The car disappeared down Meeting House Lane.
"Right lads,"said Brian, "who's coming with me to chase a pint? Beer's best! And a bloody sight safer than what he's getting into with that one!"
No comments:
Post a Comment