know that. The wedding ring will follow.’
‘Please, Tressa, be careful.’
‘Careful!’ Tressa said scornfully. ‘That’s for old bones, careful. I’m so happy I could die, and you tell me to be careful.’
There was no use talking to her. She was drunk on love and champagne and that wasn’t a combination that would produce any sort of sense. ‘Well, stay happy, Tressa,’ Lizzie said, ‘and if it’s what you want I’ll be happy for you, but for now I’m too tired to feel anything much. You stay awake all night if you like, but I must sleep.’
‘I’m too buoyed-up to even close my eyes.’
‘Then don’t,’ Lizzie said softly. ‘But stay awake quietly, will you?’
Tressa didn’t answer. She was too busy pirouetting at the end of her bed, her arms outstretched, and Lizzie gave a groan and hid her head under the covers.
Later, she heard Tressa bumbling away, bumping into the bed, and once after she’d put the light out she thought she heard her fall onto the floor. She didn’t look and Tressa giggled again so Lizzie knew she wasn’t hurt. God, I wouldn’t have her head in the morning for all the tea in China, she thought, and remembered how she’d felt the day after that fated Christmas dance. For all the urging of Mike and Steve and even Tressa, she’d never got in that state again, nor anywhere near it. She had the feeling she had to keep a grip on herself and stay level-headed with Steve, but Tressa obviously didn’t feel the same. However, that wasn’t her concern. She wasn’t her cousin’s keeper, and that was Lizzie’s last thought before sleep overtook her.
‘Tressa, wake up!’ Lizzie hissed urgently.
‘Leave me alone.’
‘I can’t. Come on, you’ll be late and you won’t half catch it.’
‘I’m ill. Tell them I’m ill.’
‘I’ll do no such thing. Anyway, they’d not believe it, and if the night porter tells them the time you came in and the state of you, you might get your marching orders. Come on, you’re hung over and I bet it’s not the first time either.’
‘Shut up!’ Tressa said, pulling the cover tighter around her. Lizzie had a measure of sympathy for her, for she knew how Tressa would be feeling. But Tressa had shown little feeling for her, Lizzie remembered, and she’d got that way by accident whereas Tressa had known what she was doing. But Lizzie also knew the state Birmingham was in with regard to jobs, and if Tressa lost this job she’d have a long wait for another, especially if the manager refused to give her a reference.
Lizzie couldn’t allow that to happen and so, grasping the covers with both hands, she yanked them clean off the bed. Tressa gave a shriek and the other two girls, who’d been fast asleep, jerked awake. ‘If you don’t belt up, Tressa,’ Betty said fiercely as she sat up in the bed, ‘I’ll come over there and knock your bleeding block off. It’s not on, this. You come home in the early hours as drunk as a Lord and wake us up, and then again in the morning. What’s your problem, anyroad?’
‘I’m ill.’
‘Ill my Aunt Fanny! Get up and go to work and give us all a bit of peace, or I’ll throw a basin of water over you.’
Lizzie could see Betty meant what she said and she honestly couldn’t blame her. Tressa knew it too and, whimpering, she got to her knees and gingerly put her feet to the floor, pulling herself up by the bedpost. ‘God, I feel awful! I won’t be able to stand the sight of all those greasy breakfasts, I feel sick already.’
Lizzie had had enough. ‘Get yourself to the bathroom,’ she commanded. ‘Clean your teeth, wash your face and get your uniform on. We’re running late already.’
‘You don’t understand. My head’s pounding.’
‘Then take an aspirin,’ Lizzie said unfeelingly. ‘I’m away. I’m not putting my job on the line for you.’
‘Lizzie!’
‘No, Tressa. Sort yourself out. You didn’t give a monkey’s yesterday and I don’t today, so I’ll see you later.’
Tressa couldn’t believe Lizzie had gone. She’d never done that before. When she’d been a bit groggy and hung over in the past, though she’d never felt this bad, Lizzie had done the lion’s share of the work and always covered for her. ‘Thank God. The worm’s turned at last,’ came Betty’s voice from the bed.
It angered Tressa. Who the hell did Betty think she was? She didn’t know how it was between her and Lizzie. Tressa was unable to say this, however, for when she opened her mouth she was assailed by nausea and had to hurry, as much as she was able, to the bathroom.
She was late reporting in the kitchen and got told off for that and for the state of her hair, which she’d been too clumsy to manage. Her face was pasty white and there were blue smudges under her eyes. The head waiter knew what was up with Tressa and he had little patience with her. ‘You can’t go into the dining room with hair like that,’ he snapped. ‘And kindly remember lateness and this slapdash manner won’t be tolerated here. Lizzie, can you help your cousin, for her hair looks as if it has been pulled through a hedge backwards.’
‘Don’t say I told you so,’ Tressa pleaded when the two girls were in the staff cloakroom.
‘I had no intention of it,’ Lizzie said, pulling off Tressa’s cap and attacking the tousled locks with the brush that she kept in her handbag in her locker. ‘I could say you’re a bloody fool, but you probably know that and it would serve no purpose. Just keep your head down and do nothing else to annoy the waiter, because he’ll be watching you like a hawk and he’s the power here. If he complains to the manager, you’ll be out.’
Tressa knew it, and despite feeling like death she tried, but for all that the head waiter shouted at her and berated her for every little thing and she was glad when her shift was over and she could reach the relative safety of her room. Betty and Pat were out and Tressa was glad of it as she sat on the bed and dissolved into tears. ‘I hate him.’
‘Come on, Tressa, he’s not the worst,’ Lizzie said. ‘You annoyed him and he made you pay, that’s all.’
‘That’s all! You weren’t on the receiving end of it.’
‘Well it’s over now,’ Lizzie said soothingly. ‘He’ll have forgotten by this evening, and if I were you I would get some sleep, you’ll feel heaps better if you do.’
‘I don’t know that I could,’ Tressa said. ‘My stomach’s churning like one of those washing machines in the laundry.’
‘How much did you drink, for God’s sake?’
‘Lots,’ Tressa admitted. ‘We went to a party after we’d been to Mike’s house, some friend of Mike who has rooms off the Belgrave Road. Steve knows him too. We expected the two of you to turn up.’
Lizzie made a face. ‘Something else turned up for us.’
‘Oh, what?’
‘Tell you later. Go on.’
‘Well, unbeknownst to me, Mike
