Dad’s asleep in the chair and I’m trying to put telly on without waking him up. He’s made a special thing and it means we can have Commercial telly. It’s got adverts. Lynne Tillard’s got a proper one and I used to go over on Sundays and watch Liberace but her brother got the whooping cough and her mum told me not to go again. Anyway, Dad’s puts it on a table next to the telly and it’s got wires, red and green and lights and plugs on it - flicks a switch and it works! We have to keep moving it about, something to do with a reception, Dad says, but it’s good.
Don’t like it much though when the news comes on because after the news there’s the weather man and I don’t want to know about storms and lightening. If am out and I see dark clouds I run home. Mum wants to know why I start singing when the News comes on. I don’t tell her, and I don’t know why - just scary. Mum’s not frightened of storms, she tells me that the lights flashing in the sky is just the electric trains ‘going over the points’. Don’t think she’d tell me fibs. But I do like the Commercials. There’s a big star first and then they start – Brillo Pads –
- ♫ I’m Prudence Pots the pan inspector
Prudence Pots the spot detector ♫
I’m going up to Marston’s School after the holidays. They have uniform but I haven’t got mine yet. Miss says I should have gone to the High School cos I might act young still and not ‘con-fi-dent’ but I’m a ‘clever little girl’. When my Report was sent home Dad got really angry and when he was at Parent’s Night he shouted at Mr Hamm.
- Look! Twenty five out of twenty five for spelling, thirty two out of thirty five for arithmetic! Why do you always place her near the bottom of the class when she gets ‘A’s all the time?
Mum says that the High School is not for me and anyway she can’t afford the uniform and books – it’s for posh people. We’re gonna see if there’s any Marston stuff in the jumble at the church hall on Saturday.
Mum’s gone to out to meet her sewing class people. It’s holidays and she’s not supposed to go really but it’s something special she says. Patricia’s just come back from the shops with some new kind of bread and bottles of drink. She says she’s going on a diet - says her legs are fat. When we’re at dancing – she puts her hand up in front of her mouth and points at one of the girls and says to me.
- Am I as fat as her?
I think Patricia’s beautiful – long black hair – not like mine – bright orange - and she’s got no freckles; I’ve got millions all over me face and long hairs on my arms. I am the ugly one like Mum says. Billy says the hairs on my arms are blonde so don’t notice and freckles are kisses from the sun. The bread is different to our normal kind, it’s in paper with N.I.M.B.L.E written across it and the bottles of drink are called P.L.J. – Patricia says it stands for pure-lemon-juice – it dries your blood up or something.
- How can you get thinner by eating fings?
- Oh you wouldn’t understand Shirley. And it’s things not - fings. Your language has got worse since you started going to the Garvey’s.
Patricia’s voice is a bit posh, Mum says, since she started working at May and Bakers doing typing and short-hand in a big office. There’s lots of ladies – Patricia says it’s called a typing-pool.
Now, sometimes when Mum’s not in after school I go to the Garvey’s same as Linda. Mrs Garvey cooks egg and chips like Richard’s Mum does but it don’t taste the same – it’s all piled up on the plates. Makes me feel like I’m gonna be sick.
- Come on you – let’s get you ready for bed.
I like it when Patricia gets us ready for bed. She sits on the settee and I sit between her legs and she brushes my hair. It’s lovely – makes me sleepy. It’s really long now past my waist and when I’m in my desk I can sit on it.
- Right that’ll do!
Dad makes me jump.
- Your mother can’t be bothering with all that hair now you’re going to Marston’s. Come here.
He’s got a chair out of the scullery; putting a towel on it.
- Sit down Shirley.
- Dad, Shirley loves her hair – why cut it off just as she’s getting a bit bigger. She can pull it back in a pony-tail for school.
He's raking round the sideboard drawers and I see the scissors in his hand. Patricia carries on brushing.
- Dad, look it's beautiful - like- copper and really long now.
My eyes are all stinging cos I wanna cry but I don’t cos he’ll be angry so I say nothing and do what he says. But I can’t help it when I see great big lumps of my hair falling on the floor. - Your mother says………
- My mother! I’ll get the dustpan and brush.
Patricia starts sweeping up; I can just hear her under her breath.
- Calls herself a Christian.
- Well, well! So they did it then?
Dad’s looking at Patricia jabbing his thumb over his shoulder at the telly.
- Oh No! I was hoping they wouldn’t – not for a crime of passion and the petition and everything. God, she was only twenty eight – and her children
- Huh, crime of passion? No such thing here – on the Continent maybe – not in England.
There’s a photo of a pretty lady on the telly she's got wavy, golden hair and there's a man talking. He’s saying about lots of people in London making a big fuss cos this lady’s been hung. There’s a name next to the photo – Ruth Ellis.
