Follow Your Dream. Patricia Burns
meant that her Aunty Eileen, her wonderful, funny, loving aunty was a wicked woman living in sin. It simply didn’t match up with her sunny memories. She felt sick suddenly. She had betrayed her aunty, and all for a moment’s attention. She wished with all her heart that she could take the words back, but it was too late now. They were out, and it was all her fault. She wanted to shrivel up into the ground.
James gave a low whistle. ‘That was brave of her,’ he said.
Lillian stared at him, hardly daring to believe it. It was all right. He understood. It was a miracle. Relief lit up her face.
‘It was. You see, she had to do it, ’cos Gran would never have allowed it.’
‘No, well, she wouldn’t, would she?’
Lillian knew what he meant. To have a family member living in sin was a terrible disgrace ordinarily. But Aunty Eileen was different.
‘Like I said, she was following her dream. And I’m going to do the same. I’m going to be a dancer.’
Once again, she wished she had not said it. She couldn’t understand what was getting into her, giving away all her closest secrets like this, baring her heart to this boy. This time he really was going to laugh at her. After all, lots of girls wanted to be dancers, but they ended up working in shops and getting married, just like everyone else. No one else could see that inside she knew she was different.
She stole a look at James from under her thick lashes to see what his reaction was. His serious face gave away nothing as he worked at loosening the brake callipers. Then he stood up, turned the bike the right way up and squeezed the brake levers on the handlebars to see if it was all working properly. The pause before he replied seemed like a hundred years to Lillian.
‘Well,’ he said finally, ‘I don’t know anything about it, but they do say it’s a hard life.’
‘I don’t care. I’m used to working hard, and it’d be working at doing something I love,’ Lillian told him.
James stopped fiddling with the brakes and looked at her. ‘That’s what makes the difference, isn’t it? I don’t mind how hard I work when I’m trying to get a car going. But I’m not doing that for someone else all my life, slaving away to make them money. I want a garage of my own.’
Lillian felt quite breathless. He was offering her his secrets.
‘Is that your dream?’ she asked.
‘That’s my dream. I’ll have a business of my own with people working for me, and a car of my own, and I’ll get a decent place for my mum to live with a proper kitchen and bathroom, so nobody can look down their noses at her any more—’
He broke off, gazing over Lillian’s shoulder, a rapt look on his face. Where a second ago his attention had been all hers, now it was as if she was no longer there. Slowly, he straightened up.
Lillian didn’t have to turn round to know who was there. She was seized with such a storm of rage and jealousy that she thought her chest might burst open. She didn’t know where it had come from or how to deal with it. She gritted her teeth and growled, only just stopping herself from leaping up and attacking her fascinating sister with teeth and nails and feet.
Wendy stopped a couple of feet away. Lillian picked up one of James’s spanners and started jabbing it into the sour earth for all she was worth. In spite of herself, her eyes were drawn to her sister. Wendy was still dressed in the old skirt and blouse she had been wearing for the spring cleaning, with a spotted scarf over her hair. Anyone else would have looked scruffy and bedraggled after the hard day’s work. But Wendy had stopped to apply bright red lipstick to her full mouth, her waist was cinched in with a wide black elastic belt, her blonde curls escaped from beneath the scarf and the blouse was undone at the neck just enough to give a tantalising glimpse of cleavage. She stood with one hand on her hip and flicked James with a cool assessing glance.
‘So you came to see to the famous bike, then? She’s been going on about it all week.’
‘She’s made a good job of it. I’ve just done a bit of maintenance.’
‘Yeah, I can see that. Your hands are covered in oil.’
James flushed. ‘It’s honest dirt. You like men with soft white girly hands, do you?’
Wendy gave a knowing smile. ‘I like a man who can take me out dancing and show me a good time.’
‘I can dance,’ James said.
‘They all say that. Then they tread all over your feet. I can’t bear being trampled on.’
‘No danger of that with me.’
For a moment their eyes locked, each of them challenging the other. It was as if Lillian didn’t exist. She wanted to leap up and scream Look at me! but something held her squatting by her bike, raging inside.
Wendy raised her eyebrows and turned away. ‘I don’t think I’ll take a chance on it.’
She walked back into the house. James’s eyes were fastened on her opulent backside until the door shut behind her. Even then he didn’t come back to Lillian immediately. He stood staring at the closed door.
‘Idiot!’ he muttered. ‘What did you go and say that for?’
‘What?’ Lillian asked.
Slowly, he turned his head to look at her, his eyes seeming to adjust like someone who had just come indoors from bright sunshine outside.
‘I went and told her I could dance. I can’t, not properly.’
A whole beautiful new vista of opportunity suddenly stretched out before Lillian. She beamed at him.
‘I can,’ she said. ‘I could teach you, if you like.’
Chapter Four
THE kid’s bike was the perfect excuse to get in with the Parker family. Or, to be more precise, to get closer to Wendy. Wendy filled James’s days and haunted his dreams. He had never met a girl like her before, not in real life. She was like something out of a film, what with her luscious body, her lovely face and her exotic natural blonde hair. And then there was the way she treated him. He knew she didn’t take him seriously. He was only a few months older than her, and she was looking for men in their twenties with money in their pockets, so he knew she regarded him as a kid who hadn’t even started his national service yet. But he was not without hope. There was something in the way she looked at him, a certain challenge in her big blue eyes and her mocking smile, that kept him coming back for more.
So when Lillian announced that she had saved up enough for the tyres and almost enough for the inner tubes, he offered to loan her the rest.
‘The weather’s getting almost summery. You want to get out on that bike as soon as you can,’ he said.
She looked at him in total amazement. ‘Would you?’ she cried. ‘You’d do that for me? Trust me with your money?’
If only it were so easy to please her sister.
‘’Course,’ he said. ‘I know you’re good for it.’
‘Oh!’ she gasped. ‘You must be the nicest person in the world!’
And as she often did when really pleased, she put her delight into action, crossing the narrow yard in two flick-flacks. James laughed and clapped. It was a pleasure to see her dance or perform gymnastics. She moved with such grace and athleticism that even someone like himself, who knew nothing about it, could see that she was good.
Once the bike was up and running, it was more difficult to find reasons to visit the Parkers. What was more, time was getting short. In July he would be eighteen, and then his call-up papers would arrive. But luck was on his side. He called in after work one Monday with the excuse of making sure that Lillian was managing all right, and found Mrs Parker in despair over the mangle.
‘It’s