Part 8 (2/2)

Marion bit her bottom lip, thinking a little apprehensively of what she was about to do. She was going into Manchester today with her father. Thank goodness the war had prevented her from being sent to Switzerland to finis.h.i.+ng school, but she was to go to London instead. She glanced at the clock. Father would be leaving in a few minutes so she'd better hurry. Jessica had been going to go with her to do some shopping, but had not felt well for the last couple of days. So, with strict instruction to be careful she had given permission for Marion to go in with George.

Marion had written to Neil to say she would meet him at their usual rendezvous, a little cafe just off Collins Street. She shouldn't really be doing this. Neil was out of her cla.s.s, but the war had made a difference to society.

Everything was changing, especially with regard to women! Women were doing men's jobs, many were VATS working overseas and even more were attending university, except her. Marion was still angry with her mother, so this was a bit like getting her own back. Besides, she liked Neil!

He was waiting for her on the corner, spruce and his hair slicked back.

Why didn't you wait in the shop?' she said.

I wanted to see you walking up the street,' he said with a wide smile. 'You're allus the best looker on it.'

He had a broad accent. It was catching and Jessica had looked at her in horror one day when Marion said 'nowt'.

'Get on with you,' she said. Neil grinned. He liked her using the dialect.

'We'll go and have a cuppa, then, shall we la.s.s,' he said, linking her arm in his. She s.h.i.+vered and not only with the cold. 'We can't stay in the cafe all day so what about coming back to my place?'

'Oh, I couldn't, Neil. It wouldn't seem right.'

'Don't worry. There'll not be any one there that knows you.'

'Mm...' Should she? She felt a tight knot in her stomach again. She knew what Neil had in mind. She wasn't sure about that, though.

'It'll be all right,' he urged. There was a hopeful light in his eyes.

'If you're sure,' she replied doubtfully.

They seemed to walk for miles through streets of small terrace houses, which became narrower and dingier with every step. At one point they were followed by a scruffy band of street urchins.

'Ee, look a t'posh 'un.'

'Aye, she's a sw.a.n.ky piece, an' all.'

Neil landed out to cuff one as they rushed by, dirty and k.n.o.bbly kneed.

'b.u.g.g.e.r off, you little sods,' he called at their retreating backs. 'Go on, scram or I'll belt the lot of you.'

They turned, poked out their tongues and made rude signs. Marion blushed. She didn't like Neil's language, either. Her unease increased. She'd never in her life been in a place like this: dirty streets, the gutters filled with questionable refuse, and the smell! She took out her handkerchief and kept it pressed to her nose. She'd never realized just how heavenly lavender smelt!

Another thing was troubling her. She'd changed her mind about the other unmentionable thing, but how could she back out now? She'd no idea where they were and had a feeling that Neil would be very angry if she voiced her doubts. How was she to know that Neil lived in one of the worst parts of Manchester?

When they finally arrived at Neil's lodgings, Mrs. Dunbridge, his landlady eyed Marion suspiciously. What was a little well-dressed madam doing here with Neil, she thought, when Neil introduced Marion as his cousin? Cousin my foot! She was the Queen of England if that was Neil's cousin.

They went up narrow, gloomy stairs to Neil's room under the disapproving eye of Mrs. Dunbridge. He opened a bilious looking green door and pushed Marion in. Before she could resist Neil grabbed her and pulled her close, but not before she had a glimpse of a filthy room with an iron bed in the corner and a chest of drawers with the leg off it leaning at a drunken an angle. She saw the handle of a chamber pot under the bed and shuddered.

Neil seemed to be unaware of her repulsion and ground his body into hers, forcing her head around and trying to kiss her.

'No, no, stop. Please Neil, you're hurting me.'

'Just relax, Marion. I'm not going to hurt you.' He continued to kiss her and she didn't like that either. His lips were too wet and he poked his tongue right into her mouth. She wanted to retch! Up close little postules of white covered his face. She didn't find him at all attractive now. Why had she come? How she wished she was back at Hyndburn and the pink satin coverlet up to her chin. She'd stay there for a week if she could only get away from here. She tried to push him away again. He held her tighter.

'Now, now, don't go putting on airs. We both know what you want, don't we?'

'I don't know what you're talking about,' she gasped. 'I want to go home and if you don't let me go I'll scream.'

He immediately put his hand over her mouth. 'Keep your b.l.o.o.d.y gob shut,' he hissed, 'Or you won't open it again for a week.'

She began to tremble. He was frightening her. She couldn't really blame him for what he'd thought. If she was fair she'd had a vague idea that was what she wanted, too. But not now! All she wanted was to get as far away from Neil and this depressing place as quickly as possible.

He still had his hand on her mouth.

'Well? Are you going to scream,' he asked. She shook her head.

'Good.' He slowly took his hand away and she immediately let out an ear-splitting shout. He jumped back as though he'd been shot. Then he hit her; slapped her hard, right across her face with such force she slammed against the door, then slid to the floor. She screamed again and began to sob.

There was a sudden loud knocking on the door.

'What's going on; I'll have no marliking around in my place. Do you hear me Neil?'

'It's all right, Mrs. Dunbridge.'

'Let me out,' Marion shouted. Neil pulled her away and tried to put his hand on her mouth again and she bit down, hard. This time he yelled and they struggled together, landing on the floor with a loud thud.

'You b.l.o.o.d.y b.i.t.c.h,' he hissed. 'I'll get you for this.'

Mrs. Dunbridge was going frantic on the other side.

'If you don't open up Neil Preston I'll call the police.'

'All right, all right, hold your horses.' Neil glared at Marion and opened the door. Marion got up hastily and straightened her clothes.

Mrs. Dunbridge took one look at Marion, then turned to Neil.

'Ee, I've a good mind to send for the police anyway, you good for nothing coward. I've heard all about you, carrying on about not going to war. Well, I think that's just what you need. A good dose of what the lads at the Front are getting. Well, I'll not have you here any longer so you can b.u.g.g.e.r off.'

She turned to Marion, who cringed at the look. 'And what the likes of you are doing with the likes of him I'll never know. You should be ashamed of yourself. Now go on, get out of me house, both of you, and you,' and she pointed a bony finger at Marion, dirt so thick under the finger nail a paint sc.r.a.per would have found difficult to dislodge, 'You just get back where you belong and the quicker the better.'

Before she'd finished Marion was down the stairs and out on the street. She ran and ran for about ten minutes. All she wanted was to get away. Luckily, as she turned down a street with the laughable name of Primrose Lane, she saw a police- man and in no time she was at the Police Station.

She sat and waited on a wood chair, strangely exhausted, but intensely happy and relieved and listened as the policeman explained on the phone, to her father at his office. Then she was whisked home in the Bentley, her father admonis.h.i.+ng her all the way about her irresponsible behaviour and the evils of men.

CHAPTER TEN.

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