on what we’ve actually achieved and not dwell on what we’ve lost. Who knows, we might yet give another thought to the idea of setting up in our own business? We can make a success of it if that’s what we aim for. ’
Both men felt uplifted to have discussed most of the matters that had been weighing heavily on their minds. They squared their shoulders and put a spring in their step as they continued along the Promenade, ready and raring to set about the day’s workload.
Taking a grubby old handkerchief from his trouser pocket, John slapped it across his nose and blew hard. ‘Dammit, I reckon I’ve got a cold coming on.’ He moaned under his breath, before blowing his nose again. ‘Look there! Do you see that tired old woman across the way? Poor old bugger, she’s been lumbered with that huge bag … no doubt filled to the brim with kids’ stuff, all dumped on her by her family. Really struggling she is.’
Danny stole a glance at the woman. ‘Bless her old heart. I’m sorely tempted to go and help her. She looks well and truly done in, so she does.’
John produced from his overalls pocket a piece of paper on which was scrawled a list of tasks for the week, some already crossed off. ‘Come on, matey! We’d best crack on. No time for rescuing damsels in distress, and look her family are catching her now. I wouldn’t mind betting she’s got a little dram o’whisky hidden inside that bag. The crafty old devil.’ He gave a deep-throated chuckle, before waving the list under Danny’s nose. ‘I expect you’ll want to start on her first?’ He gestured in the direction of the Blue Bench. ‘She’s looking a bit weathered of late, don’t you think?’ John strode on, clutching his list and grumbling as he went to his own tasks, leaving the bench to Danny.
He paused to admire her, ‘She’s like an old friend,’ he murmured, ‘this place would never be the same without her. And you’re right … she does seem to be looking a bit worse for wear, but you can’t blame the old girl for looking worn out. Not when she’s facing the elements twenty-four hours a day, year in year out.’ He chuckled loudly, ‘In some ways, she’s a bit like us, don’t you think? Forging onwards, whatever the weather throws at us, and just like her, we’ve learned to stand strong against the elements. I’d love to know what her story is.’
When Danny looked up at the Blue Bench, his ready smile faltered and his heart seemed to flip over. It couldn’t be … Surely not! The lovely Marie Foster sitting on the bench – alone.
MARIE HAD ARRIVED at the Blue Bench very early this morning. After she’d received Eileen’s note she decided to skip breakfast at the hotel in case she bumped into Eileen and Tony in the dining room. Instead, she’d bought a cup of tea at a seafront stall and would have enjoyed the stroll along the Promenade had it not been for her nervousness.
Why had she put off suggesting this meeting all these years? The longer she’d left it, the harder it had become to make this move. Even now she was halfway to thinking she’d just scarper and forget all about it, especially as Eileen’s note didn’t have what you might call a friendly tone.
Tony has agreed to meet you so I suppose I had better come along, too. I don’t know what your game is, Marie, but don’t you dare ever, ever tell him our secret.
Well, that left no room for doubt.
And just what was her ‘game’, Marie asked herself as she sat down on the Blue Bench, clutching her tea tightly. What on earth had possessed her to come to Blackpool by herself, hoping to be reconciled with Eileen and Tony and to share with them an important part of her life? Her conscience had troubled her for years and she wanted to be free of that burden now, while she was still physically and mentally able. But what had seemed like a sound idea at home – to meet Eileen and Tony in Blackpool while they were relaxed on their holiday, a place they had shared so much laughter, so many good memories – now seemed fraught with potential disaster. Should she just go now – get up and leave and pretend to herself she’d never sought this meeting? Her life-long demon was even now sitting on her shoulder, whispering in her ear that this whole stupid plan was doomed from the start.
But that demon had always led her by the nose, and now, twenty years after Derek’s death, she owed it to her family to shrug it off and be a better person.
Derek – every day it was hard to believe he’d been gone for so many years. Dead of a heart attack and only in his forties. So Marie had lived on without him, though she still had Anne, and her lovely husband, Dave … and of course Cathy, that dear girl. Cathy, the light of their lives, an unlooked-for joy, was now on the brink of womanhood, and Marie owed it to her – to all of them – to reveal the truth at last. What if she herself were to die suddenly, as Derek had done, and never tell what it was her duty – her duty, not Anne or Dave’s – to tell? How would Cathy think of her then?
Marie could still picture Eileen’s face that night, they’d been sitting at the same kitchen table they’d sat and talked over for years. When it became clear to Marie that Eileen had discovered their one night together, she felt she had to confess all. But in that moment, fearful that Eileen and Tony might want to claim her baby as their own, she told the most awful, shameful lie. It had been a wicked thing to say and she’d regretted it every moment.
And now, she felt she needed to go back to the beginning, where it all started. She looked out over the Promenade to where the gentle waves washed the beach. Already there were families set up on the sand, colourful towels laid out, deck chairs in clusters, brightly striped windbreaks – more for privacy than to keep any breeze at bay on this glorious morning – and, as always in summer, the piping voices of excited children.
Marie was immediately transported back to the long-ago holidays here with Derek and Anne, such happy holidays when Tony and Eileen had been dear friends. Then there had been the war, of course, when seaside holidays were not possible, and then afterwards … after Derek had died … everything had changed. There had been other trips, but more often to Southport rather than Blackpool. Marie had not wanted to risk bumping into Tony and Eileen. Little Cathy had loved those holidays. Three generations playing on the beach together – that’s what anyone watching the little family would have seen.
Could she live the lie any longer? It wasn’t hurting anyone, was it, it just weighed heavier on her shoulders every year. Wise women say secrets would out, and Marie knew she must try hard to gather her courage, to do what in her heart she knew was right, before it was too late.
A lyrical voice she vaguely knew came at her from a few yards down the Promenade.
‘And a beautiful day it is, too, for a picnic on the Blue Bench.’
Marie looked to her left and there … Good heavens, after all this time! The man with the Irish lilt was none other than Danny Magee.
‘Danny! It really is you! What a marvellous surprise.’ And indeed his appearance, as she once again deliberated, was very welcome. She stood and found herself hugging him with delight.
‘Marie, ye’re a sight for sore eyes on this fine morning. I’d quite given up on ever seeing my best girl again. It’s been some good years since ye last graced these parts with yer beauty. And ye don’t look a day older than when we last met.’
Still the same old Danny, a charmer
