Free The Ballroom on Magnolia Street by Sharon Owens

truthfully,
Alex Stone
    Shirley kept the letter in her pocket and showed it to Kate when they were having lunch. Kate was picking over a hefty portion of cod and chips, and didn’t seem to realize the significance of the information.
    ‘Are you not eating that?’ said Shirley, nodding at the fat fish steak.
    ‘It looked nice under the spotlights,’ said Kate, absentmindedly, ‘but I’ve lost my appetite now.’
    ‘Well, listen. This letter from Alex Stone – do you realize the situation he’s in?’
    ‘So what? Some jealous girl sent in a letter about him. And do you have to button that shirt right up to the neck? I’m suffocated just looking at you.’
    ‘Kate, he’s sexist. “You know what women are like.”’
    ‘Who cares? Not all women are perfect, you know. Just look at Louise Lowry. The big vicious lump!’
    ‘You’re missing the point, Kate. Again.’
    ‘I’m not missing any point, Shirley. Half of Belfast is cheating the system. Everybody knows that. It’s a low-wage economy, and a conflict-torn industrial wasteland to boot. How in God’s name do you expect Alex to live on a bouncer’s wages? We both live at home, don’t we? We can’t afford to move out and get places of our own.’
    ‘It’s not just the dishonesty.’
    ‘Isn’t it?’ Kate set down her knife and fork. She felt nauseous and jittery.
    ‘No, of course not. This is a very small city. He’ll be caught.’
    ‘Well, excuse me, Maggie Thatcher. When did you turn into a bloody Tory? You try living on the peanuts he gets at Hogan’s. It’s all right for them snobs in the government, with their country houses and their inherited millions. They don’t know what it’s like to be hungry.’
    ‘That’s not the point , Kate. If he’d told the truth about his situation, he’d still get something towards his rent. You know I’m no Tory, for God’s sake. Everyone we know is struggling to make ends meet. But he could end up in court. They’re cracking down on fraud, you know. Or have you missed this month’s newsletter?’
    ‘Who’s the letter addressed to? Is Fraud really going to check this out?’
    ‘I expect so. I have to pass it on to them today.’ Shirley folded up the letter.
    ‘Give it here, you little class-traitor,’ snapped Kate. She put the letter in her pocket. ‘I’ll bin it later. They’ve little to do, so they have. Chasing poor Alex Stone, for a few measly quid!’
    ‘You can’t bin it,’ said Shirley. ‘It’s been registered. Fraud sent him a letter in the first place, you idiot. Even if there’s no reply, they’ll still follow this up.’
    ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake! Right. Well, I’m glad you told me about this, Shirley. You’ve been a great help.’
    ‘What are you going to do?’
    ‘I’m going to warn him that they’re on to him. That they might send someone round to check if he works in Hogan’s. It will be the perfect opportunity to get to know him better.’
    ‘I give up. You’ll get into hot water if they find out. Sacked, for sure.’
    ‘He’s only getting by as best he can, Shirley, until the inheritance comes his way. This is the real world, you know. We can’t all get by on daydreams and charity shop cast-offs, like you do.’
    ‘Well, I hope you know what you’re doing. Get someone else to tell him, at least, so you’re not seen talking to him.’
    ‘Ach! You’re paranoid. Sure, no one will ever find out. They’re all half-dead in this godforsaken place. Any tea left in that pot? My stomach’s in a right knot.’
    Shirley shook her head and pushed the pot across the table.

9. Kate Gets Her Man
    Louise Lowry’s face was a picture. Mary was not able to console her friend, no matter how many times she told her it was all for the best. Alex Stone had his arm round Kate Winters’s waist, and the two of them were talking away, their mouths going like machines. Even when Hollywood Hogan was spotted making his rounds, they went on talking. The staff all knew that