Free Angel of the North by Annie Wilkinson Page B

Charleses clinging to her skirts, but she’d lied when she’d said she was sorry about last night. She wasn’t sorry at all, either about having a go at Hannah, or sending Charles
home after he’d failed to back her up. He’d let her down, and he deserved to be made to feel it.

Chapter 7
    ‘What did you think to the play?’ Nancy asked.
    ‘All right,’ Marie said, suppressing a yawn and longing for the end of her shift so that she could collapse into bed.
    ‘Only all right? I thought it was real good. So did George.’
    ‘George? I wouldn’t have thought he was the play-going type.’
    ‘He’s not really, but a couple of the actors are lodging at my mother’s, and they said it’s the best production they’ve ever been in, so I got him to take me. Thank
goodness we didn’t have an air raid to ruin it for us.’
    ‘How much does she charge them – the actors?’ asked Marie. ‘If I have to leave work to look after my mother, taking a couple of lodgers might help with the
housekeeping.’
    ‘Never asked,’ Nancy shrugged, ‘and Mam wouldn’t tell me anyway. But actors are ideal, she says. They never stay too long. One of them’s gorgeous, though.
He’s been offered a job in the films.’ Nancy tilted her head back and gave a self-conscious, tinkling little laugh. ‘He says the only thing stopping him from taking it is
he’d never see me again.’
    ‘He’s got it bad, then,’ Marie said sardonically.
    Nancy looked ecstatic. ‘He has,’ she replied, oblivious to the sarcasm. ‘He says he’ll only take the job if I promise to move down south with him.’
    ‘You’re not serious?’ Marie said, suddenly wide awake.
    ‘I’m thinking about it.’
    ‘You’re telling me you’re going to chuck a man like George – who you’re
engaged
to, by the way – for a slick-talking fly-by-night you’ve known
about half an hour? Yes, Nancy, if I were in your shoes I’d certainly think about that, long and hard. I’d think about it until I’d thought myself back into some sense. George is
a good lad. He’s a qualified engineer, and he’s dead keen on his job. He’s got good prospects, Nance.’
    ‘Well, you’re not in my shoes, and prospects don’t set anyone’s pulses racing.’
    ‘And the actor chap does, I suppose?’
    ‘Yes, he does! And how do you know Monty hasn’t got good prospects?’
    ‘Monty!’
    Nancy blushed. ‘Yes, Monty. His real name’s Montgomery Holmes.’
    ‘I bet that’s not his real name, Nance. Don’t let him kid you.’
    ‘It’s his professional name, then. And it’s a very good name for a film star, if you ask me. And he’s good company. He took me to a restaurant on my day off, treated me
like a queen. He thinks I ought to have drama lessons. He says Hull’s got the best-looking women in England, and I’m the best-looking woman in Hull. He says I’m pretty enough to
be in the films.’
    ‘He’s got a hell of a lot to say, by the sound of it. What’s he after – or has he already got it?’
    Nancy tossed her head, very miffed. ‘What a rotten thing to say! He’s not after anything – and he hasn’t got anything, either. Can’t anybody pay anybody a
compliment, without being after something? You’re in a nasty mood today, Marie.’
    ‘No, I’m not. You’re talking about doing the dirty on George, and I’m being honest, telling you it’s ten to one you’ll regret it if you do. I can’t help
it if you don’t like the truth.’
    ‘I could tell you some truths, if I wanted to, that you wouldn’t like,’ Nancy flared. ‘Are you sure you know Charles as well as you think? There might be a lot about him
that you don’t know.’
    ‘What do you mean by that?’
    ‘Nothing.’
    ‘You don’t say something like that, and then say “nothing”. What are you talking about? What is it about Charles I don’t know?’
    ‘Nothing, I said. But maybe none of us knows what’s round the corner, until it falls on top of us. Or what we