was needed from the audience and a self-conscious young man was coaxed onto the stage. Madame Salambo asked him to hold one end of a hollow glass tube while she retained the other end. Suddenly, there was a brilliant flash as the glass tube lit up, and everybody laughed at the astonishment on the young man’s face. When he was asked to touch Madame and Monsieur he was just as amazed when a series of sparks shot out from them. The tricks went on, amazing everybody and Clover looked on in open-mouthed incredulity.
When the curtain came down for the interval, Clover asked Tom the time and he told her it was just after ten.
‘I ought to go,’ she said reluctantly. ‘Mother will have been expecting me by ten.’
‘But we’ve only seen the first half of the show. Don’t you want to see the rest of it?’
‘’Course I do. More than anything.’ More than anything she wanted to remain with Tom. ‘Oh, to hell with her, Tom. I’m staying. If I’m late, I’m late.’
‘Blame me,’ Tom said. ‘I’m the one keeping you out late. Anyway, what do you have to fear? You’re a grown woman and Jake is very fair. You’ve said so yourself.’
‘It’s just that I didn’t realise we were coming here tonight. If I’d forewarned her…’
‘Well, the show won’t be over till after eleven. You might as well sit it out and enjoy it. You might as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb. What time do they shut the Jolly Collier?’
‘Oh, they’ll be serving till going on for twelve o’ clock. Maybe later.’
‘Well, then. They won’t even notice what time you come in. In any case, I’ll come in with you and explain. I’ll tell your mother it’s my fault. Anyway, you should be allowed to stay out late if you want to. It’s not as if you’re a child.’
Clover smiled up at him, embarrassed that they should both have to contend with her mother’s quaint but annoying idiosyncrasies. She made her mind up to do something about it. Indeed, she would have to if she wanted to be courted regularly by Tom.
So, she settled comfortably into the second half of the show. Robert Fordham, a black American singer with a brilliant dance routine got the second half rolling when he performed ‘Chocolate Dreams Cakewalk’. Clover liked the brassy sounds the orchestra made accompanying him, the easy, foot-tapping tunes.
The Court Casey Circus was a knockabout troupe that had the place in uproar and their antics brought tears to her eyes. She forgot about Mary Ann’s stern glare. Dottie Baxter did a second spot, this time dressed as a policeman. She sang a song about how the policeman lost his love to the sergeant, which was poignant and funny all at the same time. Little Tich closed the show and he’d certainly been holding his funniest jokes till last. Even when the orchestra had finished playing ‘God Save the King’, Clover still had tears in her eyes from laughing.
She turned to Tom, coming out of her happy dream. ‘I suppose we’d better hurry.’
He nodded and grabbed his umbrella. She held his hand as he thrust his way through the men that were lingering around the aisle stretching their legs and the women smoothing their dresses. Outside, the rain was pouring. He opened the umbrella and, beneath it, they crossed the road, heading towards the Station Hotel and Trindle Road. The street lamps beyond the Station Hotel were not so bright, but the paltry light they afforded was increased as it reflected off the glistening cobbles.
‘I’ve really enjoyed tonight, Tom,’ she said, looking up at him as they turned into Claughton Road. ‘Thank you for taking me.’
‘Thank you for coming,’ he answered. ‘I hope we can have plenty more nights like it.’
‘I hope so too. I just hope my mother doesn’t spoil it. I expect she’ll be all of a franzy.’
‘I told you, Clover. Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.’
It was after half past eleven when they arrived at the Jolly Collier. Clover looked at Tom apprehensively while he opened the door and allowed her to go in before him as he shook the water off his brolly. The taproom, full of noise and smoke, was still busy and Mary Ann, Ramona and Jake were all working.
‘Is it still raining?’ Jake asked Clover.
‘Pouring,’ she said over the hubbub and smiled at him appealingly. ‘I bet Tom would like a pint, wouldn’t you, Tom?’
He winked at her. ‘I’d love one. Bitter, please.’
‘We’ve been to the Opera House,’ she explained to Jake. Ramona, by this time, was standing by her. ‘Shall we sit down, Tom?’
‘Was it a good show?’ Jake asked pleasantly. ‘One or two have said how good it is.’
‘Oh, it was grand, Pop. You ought to take Mother. You’d both love it.’
‘Hear that, Mary Ann?’ he called. Mary Ann looked up from the washed glasses she was wiping. ‘Clover says as how good the show is at the Opera House this week. She reckons I should tek you to see it.’
‘Oh yes. And who’s going to serve in here while we’m gone?’
‘Well I could, Mother,’ Clover said. ‘And Tom wouldn’t mind helping either, would you, Tom?’
‘I’d be delighted. It could be my penance for keeping Clover out so late, Mrs Tandy.’
‘Is that an apology, since you mention it?’ Mary Ann asked, stone-faced.
Tom smiled steadily, not about to be unnerved. ‘If you honestly feel one is necessary, Mrs Tandy.’
Perceiving dissension, Jake waved it aside. ‘Christ, Mary Ann, anybody’d think the wench was late in,’ he retorted placing a pint of bitter in front of Tom. ‘I’ve told you before, she’s twenty now. This time next year she’ll be of age and able to do as she pleases. She’ll even be able to go and get wed without having to ask you. Think about that. You’d best start letting go of her now.’ He winked at Tom and poured a glass of cider for Clover. ‘Here, have these on me.’
‘As long as she can get up in the morning,’ Mary Ann responded, conceding defeat.
‘Cheers,’ Tom said and raised his glass. ‘Here’s to you, Jake.’
Jake smiled. He’d won another round by reasonableness and good sense.
Tom stayed in the taproom for twenty minutes before deciding it was time to go. Clover went outside with him in the rain to say goodnight and they stood under his umbrella, facing each other, their bodies touching tantalisingly.
‘Thanks for a lovely night,’ she said again. ‘And for squaring it with my mother.’
He put his arm around her waist and gave her a squeeze. ‘Jake did that. Not me.’
She smiled into his eyes then looked at his mouth, so inviting. She had not yet kissed him and the urge to, fuelled by the warmth of his companionship, overwhelmed her. Impulsively, she pursed her lips and turned her face up to reach him, then, standing on tiptoe with her hands behind her back, she planted a kiss on his lips as gentle as a butterfly landing on a petal, lingering just a little.
‘There.
