Mother’s Day on Coronation Street. Maggie Sullivan
I’m afraid.’ But there was a mysterious glint in her eye. ‘You’ll soon see for yourself once we get busy.’
‘Welcome back!’
‘Lovely to see you again.’
‘Good to have you back, though Lottie and Sally have been doing a splendid job.’
Annie inclined her head from side to side in acknowledgement of all the good wishes when she finally made an appearance from behind the curtain that separated off her living quarters.
‘It’s nice to be back.’ ‘Lovely to see you again.’ ‘Thank you for your kind message.’
She let a gracious smile play on her lips as she greeted each in turn in the way she had seen Queen Elizabeth do on the newsreels as she accompanied King George on their visits round the country. She was enjoying the attention almost as much as when she had been cast in the lead role in the amateur dramatic society before the war and had taken a final curtain call. She hadn’t realized how much she had missed seeing all the familiar faces at the bar while she had been ill. She didn’t really like being shut away from everything and everybody even if it was only for a few days. She was actually looking forward to being able to take on all the duties of her customary role as landlady once more, including pulling pints, though she would have to try to ease herself back into the job gradually.
It was interesting, she thought, how she had grown used to being a publican at the Rovers. She had even become quite fond of the place and the job, and it surprised her how pleased she was to be back. Not that it had always been like that. She remembered how she had felt when she had first come here as a new bride. Running a hostelry had not been something she had ever aspired to. She had long accepted that her family’s fortunes had really gone and she knew she would never be returning to the grand life she had once known, but when Jack had first proposed and suggested they become innkeepers she had dared to dream of a small country pub set in leafy Cheshire lanes. She saw Tudor-style oak beams, and horse brasses hanging on the walls but for Jack’s sake she had been willing to consider the Rovers Return as a sort of trade apprenticeship, a place where she would learn all she could about the hospitality industry. Perhaps one of the most important lessons she learned in the early years was always to greet people with a cheerful smile, even if it didn’t reflect how she felt. And that was a lesson that had stood her in good stead. Even when Mr Ridley himself had come to tell them that the brewery had no country pubs available for the foreseeable future she had somehow managed to grit her teeth and smile.
But things had changed since then. She had changed and she accepted for now that she would be happy enough to remain behind the bar at the Rovers Return. Not that she would admit that to anyone, especially not to Jack, for she would never give up on her dream.
What she hadn’t expected to see on her return to the bar was so many new faces and several different uniforms and for the moment she thought she was in the middle of a Hollywood film set. For mixed in with the locals, whose voices she mostly recognised, was the unfamiliar drawl of American accents.
Sally laughed at Annie’s astonished face. ‘What do you think to that?’ she said. ‘I bet you didn’t know the Yanks had arrived in full force, did you?’
‘I knew there’d been more and more coming since the first batch arrived in January, but I hadn’t realized there were such numbers arriving up here.’
Gracie nodded. ‘We’ve got GIs, soldiers, airmen – and some Canadians as well for good measure. They’re all over the country now and, fortunately for us, one of their bases is not far from here, in Warrington.’
‘Well I never.’ Annie didn’t know whether to be pleased or sorry.
‘Seems like they’re trying out all the local pubs in the area and I’m doing my darnedest to make sure this is the one place they want to keep coming back to. And you know what they’re saying? “Overpaid, oversexed and over here”.’ Annie’s eyebrows shot up in astonishment at Sally’s choice of language but the young girl seemed not to notice. ‘So I reckon we need to make the most of it,’ Sally went on, ‘because they seem to have access to all kinds of supplies we can’t get hold of – cigarettes, nylon stockings, chocolate. They’re pretty amazing.’
Now Annie laughed. ‘Well, it looks like you’re doing a good job of hanging on to them, young lady.’ She was looking at the barmaid and actually smiling.
‘I think I must be doing something right,’ Sally grinned back. ‘One of the men told me last night he was even getting to love warm beer.’
Annie looked puzzled at this and pursed her lips, unsure how to take what sounded like a backhanded compliment.
‘Apparently, they serve all their drinks poured over ice cubes – “on the rocks”, they call it over in America – and they even like their beer to be ice cold,’ Sally explained. ‘At first, they complained about the Shires being warm, but now I think they’re beginning to get used to it.’
‘So long as they keep coming back for more, I can hardly complain,’ Annie said as she perched on a stool by the till and surveyed the room. She watched Elsie Tanner who was single-handedly entertaining the largest number of GIs and for once Annie was grateful Elsie was a regular customer. She was certainly the centre of attention tonight among one group of Yanks. It seemed that most of them couldn’t keep their hands off her and she didn’t mind that at all. She was flirting outrageously in true Elsie-style. At least, thought Annie, with so much misery around they’re bringing some life and fun into the place. Without them things could easily deteriorate and we’d be left with a pretty dull atmosphere. Thanks also went to Sally, who was confidently pulling pints, serving the customers with a laugh and a joke and generally keeping the clients happy while Annie tossed tanners, shillings, half-crowns and florins into the cash drawer at a steady enough rate to make her one very happy lady.
Gracie didn’t know what to wear as she sifted through the hangers on the rail that served as a wardrobe in her bedroom. Not that she had a lot to choose from. Clothes rationing meant she hadn’t bought anything new for ages and several of her old clothes were actually worn out. But her real dilemma was whether to wear a skirt or trousers. Since she had taken to wearing trousers at the factory she had felt more comfortable in them and normally wouldn’t have thought twice about wearing them when she was popping into a pub. But from what Lottie had told her about Annie Walker she began to worry that they might appear too casual for the landlady who sounded a little prim and proper. She discarded each thing onto the bed as she tried it on. Both the straight, pencil-line skirt with the side pockets and the slightly flared skirt with the patch pockets still looked to be in reasonable shape, whereas the trousers did look rather shabby. In the end, she settled for her cream pleated skirt because it went well with the coffee-and-cream-coloured jumper that she loved, even though she would have to remember not to lift her left arm for that would show up the darn there. The outfit made her feel more grown up and ladylike with its set-in sleeves that were gathered in tucks at the shoulders so that they looked like shoulder pads. It would give her a boost of confidence at what could prove to be a difficult meeting. She drew a stub of bright red lipstick across her lips, pinched her cheeks and looked at herself in the mirror. She smoothed down the tendrils of hair that persistently escaped from her ponytail and twisted this way and that to try to see her back. ‘It will have to do,’ she said out loud and ran down the stairs.
‘Let’s be having a look at you.’ Mildred stopped her as she went to open the front door.
‘I’ve no time now, Mum. I’m already late. I can’t afford to give a bad impression. I’m scared enough without having to worry about that.’
‘What on earth are you scared about? You’ll knock ’em out.’
‘Yeah, but you don’t know what the landlady can be like. Lottie’s been telling me and I can’t help worrying: what if she doesn’t like me?’
‘Of course she’ll like you. Everybody will.’ Her mother gave her a kiss. ‘Just be yourself and she can’t fail to love you. But slow down for a moment. You know what’ll happen if you