Queenie

When Doreen shot off, Queenie stared at the man again. She wouldn’t stand a cat in hell’s chance of snaring him if Doreen had designs on him, that was for sure.

‘I think you should have a soft drink now, Doreen, like Queenie and me. You’re looking rather tipsy and my dad will be ever so angry if you’re sick in his car,’ Eliza warned as the evening wore on.

Doreen flung her arm in the air. She felt heady with excitement since her mystery man had arrived and was trying to pluck up the courage to talk to him. ‘I’m not drunk and I promise I won’t be sick. I’ll have another gin. Honest, I’m fine.’

Queenie thought the pianist was fantastic. He played and sang along to all the songs she’d sung over and over again with her aunt. He also called others up to sing. A middle-aged lady had given a brilliant rendition of Gracie Field’s ‘Sally’, and an elderly gentleman had sung ‘The Lambeth Walk’ in spectacular fashion. He’d even done a little dance to it with his walking stick.

‘Can I have my old mucker, Albie, up ’ere to give us a song,’ bellowed the pianist. Queenie held her breath as Albie brushed past her. So that was his name solved.

‘I’m Gonna Sit Right Down and Write Myself a Letter’ was Albie’s song choice and Doreen was right about his voice. There was a silky tone to it and he sang the song beautifully, effortlessly.

Doreen arrived back from the bar. ‘Told you, didn’t I? Wasn’t he just born to sing? I think I’m in love.’

‘His name’s Albie,’ Eliza informed Doreen.

‘I must talk to him. I have to find out if he’s single,’ Doreen replied. She didn’t usually get nervous around men, but Albie made her heart beat wildly.

After receiving a rapturous round of applause, the pianist played another song, then counted down from twenty, shouted ‘Happy New Year’ before handing the mike back to Albie, who sang ‘Auld Lang Syne’. Everybody grouped together while singing along. Queenie even held the hand of the lad in the cap and braces who’d been eyeing her up all evening. He introduced himself as Terry afterwards, and Queenie was even less impressed when she realized he was also a coalman and the hair poking out from under his hat was ginger. She certainly didn’t want ginger children. They’d get picked on at school like Sally Sharp in her class. So when he asked her out, she politely declined.

‘We’d better stand outside soon. My dad won’t want to come in looking for us,’ said Eliza. She wasn’t a regular pub-goer, but had felt comfortable in the Beehive because there were some fellow Jewish people. She’d even recognized a couple of ladies who came into the shop.

‘Just let me talk to Albie first. I have to,’ Doreen insisted, grabbing Queenie’s arm.

‘He’s talking to some men. You can’t just bowl over there and interrupt the conversation,’ Queenie warned. Doreen was more than tipsy now. She was unsteady on her feet in those high heels of hers.

Queenie didn’t have much choice in the matter when Doreen literally dragged her over to where Albie was standing. ‘Excuse me. I’m sorry for butting in, but I just wanted to tell you what a bloody good singer you are,’ Doreen slurred.

Queenie blushed. This was awfully embarrassing. But she could not take her eyes off Albie’s. They were the most powerful green she had ever seen. Striking. He truly did resemble Daniel in many ways, apart from being a bit skinny. Daniel was very stocky in comparison.

‘Why thank you, ma’am,’ Albie grinned. ‘I’m singing from nine until eleven in here next Friday, if you fancy hearing more of my dulcet tones,’ he chuckled.

‘And you have beautiful eyes,’ Doreen gushed.

At that point, Queenie cringed. She was determined to let Albie know she wasn’t drunk too. ‘Come on, Doreen. We must go now. Joseph will be waiting for us.’

‘Joseph’s my boss, not my boyfriend. What’s your name?’ Doreen hiccupped. She wanted to find out his surname.

‘Albie. Albie Butler.’

‘I’m Doreen Laine and this is my friend, Queenie Wade. We work in Cohen’s ladies’ fashion shop in the Roman Road. Have you got a girlfriend or wife? Only we sell lovely dresses if you have.’

‘Nope. I’m still up for grabs.’ Even the men standing with Albie were laughing now. They were used to their pal getting lots of female attention, but this one was so forward and inebriated, she was extra funny.

Eliza appeared by Queenie’s side. ‘My father is outside. We really have to leave now.’

‘Bye, ladies. It’s been a pleasure talking to you,’ Albie smiled.

‘We are so sorry to have interrupted your conversation, gentlemen,’ Queenie replied politely.

Albie winked at her. ‘No problem. I’ll hopefully see you next weekend.’

Queenie grabbed Doreen by the arm. Eliza grabbed her friend’s other arm, so she wouldn’t stumble.

On the journey home, Queenie felt a warm glow inside. She’d had the most amazing evening.

She glanced at her sleeping friend. Surely by being so drunk and cringe-worthy, Doreen had blown any chance she might have had with Albie? Men didn’t like lushes, they liked ladies, her mum had always drummed into her.

Albie had winked at her, not Doreen. He’d also said to her, ‘I’ll hopefully see you next weekend.’

The following day, Queenie couldn’t wait to tell someone her news. Her mum had been in a world of her own since Aunt Edna’s death, Viv was too young, so Queenie got dressed and dashed over to Mrs O’Leary’s.

‘Well, well, well, a certain young lady looks radiant today. Tell me all about him,’ laughed Mary.

‘How did you know I was going to tell you about a man?’

‘Because I’m clever. Come on, spill the beans.’

Queenie couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she gabbled the whole story of her wonderful night out. ‘And you know you told me to look out for signs from Aunt Edna. The first song the pianist sang was “Bye Bye Blackbird”. Aunt Edna often started her sessions with that song too. D’ya reckon it was a sign?’

‘Without a doubt. That’s your aunt’s way of showing her approval that you’re finally out enjoying yourself. Not before time too, might I add. We can’t change the past, Queenie, but we can certainly strive for a better future.’

‘I know Aunt Edna would approve of Albie’s voice. He sings so well, Mary.’

‘How old is Albie, would you say?’

‘Older than me. About the same age as Daniel, I’d guess. He actually reminds me a bit of Daniel. He has black hair and bright green eyes too.’

‘Sweet Jesus! Let’s hope he treats his women better than my Daniel. A roving eye, my son has, that’s for sure.’ Mary craned her neck. ‘Speak of the Devil. He’s just pulled up outside. I’ll put the kettle on.’

Usually, Queenie would avoid visiting Mary when Daniel and Bridie came by, or excuse herself and quickly leave if they turned up unexpectedly. It was time she grew up though, so she smiled as Daniel and Bridie walked in with the baby. ‘Happy New Year to you all.’

Daniel bent down and kissed Queenie on the cheek. ‘Happy New Year.’

Queenie stood up and looked inside the baby’s pram. Emily, they’d called the child, and she looked nothing like Daniel. She was fair like Bridie. ‘Ahh, she’s gorgeous. She’s got so big since I last saw her.’

‘That’s probably ’cause you usually do a runner as soon as we arrive,’ winked Daniel.

Queenie felt herself blush. ‘No. I don’t. It’s just I had to be somewhere the last time you visited,’ she lied.

‘What about the time before that then?’ Daniel goaded playfully.

‘Stop teasing my dear friend,’ Mary chuckled, putting the tea tray on the table. ‘Our Queenie went out with the girls from work last night and has met a potential suitor, haven’t you, darling?’

Queenie felt embarrassed. ‘Erm, I wouldn’t go that far just yet, Mary. Let’s wait and see if he asks me out first.’

‘Well, he’d be silly not to. He won’t be asking that lush of a friend of yours out now, that’s for sure,’ Mary grinned. ‘Men don’t like drunken women, do they, Daniel?’

‘No. That’s why I married Bridie,’ Daniel replied, slinging a casual arm around his wife’s shoulders. ‘So who’s this geezer then, Queenie? Where did you meet him?’

‘None of your bloody business.’ Mary winked at Queenie. ‘You tell him nothing, sweetheart. The nosy toerag.’

Queenie drank her tea and then said her goodbyes.

Daniel saw Queenie out. ‘Who is he then, this bloke?’

‘Nobody you’d know.’

‘If he’s worth knowing I will.’

‘My love life has nothing to do with you, Daniel.’

Daniel grabbed Queenie’s arm and teasingly stared her in the eyes. ‘I still care about you, ya know.’

Queenie snatched her arm away. ‘Go back inside to your wife and child. They’re your responsibility, not me.’

CHAPTER NINE

Queenie went back to work on the Monday with a spring in her step. She’d thought a lot about Albie over the weekend, but had thought even more about Daniel. It broke her heart to see him play happy families with a woman he clearly didn’t love, but it was definitely time to move on.

Her mum had warned her not to get too carried away. ‘You barely know anything about the man, love. Wait and see if he asks you out on a date first. I rushed into things with your father and look where that got me.’

Doreen was very sheepish on her arrival. ‘Whatever did I do and say? It’s all a bit blurry. I wish you’d stopped me drinking gin.’

‘I tried to,’ laughed Eliza.

‘You weren’t that bad, mate, honest,’ Queenie lied. ‘Albie and his mates liked you, they thought you were funny, didn’t they, Eliza?’

Eliza nodded.

‘Do you remember Albie inviting us to go back there next Friday to watch him sing?’ asked Queenie.

‘Yes. But I’m not going. I feel far too embarrassed.’

Queenie’s heart sank. Apart from Daniel, she’d thought of nothing else but seeing Albie again. ‘Oh don’t be so daft, Dor. Half the bloody pub were paralytic. It was New Year’s Eve, for Christ’s sake.’

‘Why you so keen to go back there? You got your eye on someone an’ all?’

Feeling herself blush, Queenie gabbled her words. ‘There were lots of handsome men and I had such a great time, I just want to go there again. Never going to meet a man if I don’t go out, am I?’

Doreen raised her eyebrows. ‘I’ve been telling you that for ages.’

Over the next month, unbeknown to Doreen, Queenie made up with Aggie Brown, her next-door neighbour. The reason being, she needed someone to drag up the Beehive on a Friday night. A plain girl with freckles and a nose slightly too big for her face, Aggie had developed an enormous crush on Terry, the lad in the cap and braces who’d asked Queenie out on New Year’s Eve.

Queenie found out a bit more about Albie. He was twenty-four and even though he was always surrounded by females, he didn’t seem to be courting anyone in particular. He definitely liked blondes though. Queenie would study him to see who he was singing to or eyeing up. He always spoke to herself and Aggie. Albie was a very polite and an extremely popular chap. Queenie could not help but feel frustrated though. She was getting nowhere fast.

Because she worked Saturdays, Tuesday was Queenie’s day off and when she arrived at work on the Wednesday, she was in for an unwelcome surprise.

‘Guess where we’re going on Friday to celebrate Eliza’s birthday?’ Doreen grinned.

‘No idea,’ Queenie replied.

‘The Beehive! Eliza said her dad will drop us off home again. I’m gonna treat myself to a new outfit and a new hairstyle. I’m determined to make a good impression on Albie Butler this time.’

Queenie had that feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach. The thought of Doreen impressing Albie was bad enough, but say someone put their foot in it and asked where Aggie was? How the hell was she meant to explain that one?’

‘What’s the matter? You don’t look too happy. I thought you’d be pleased we were going back there. It was Eliza’s idea actually, not mine. But I’m determined to get my man this time. It’s weeks since Albie saw me pissed and time is a healer, so they say,’ Doreen chuckled.

‘I am happy. It’s just I promised my friend Aggie I’d go out with her this weekend and I don’t want to let her down. We only made up recently.’

‘Bring Aggie with you, Queenie,’ Eliza smiled. ‘There’s plenty of room in Dad’s car. The more the merrier.’

The evening before her dreaded night out, Queenie sat in front of the fire with her mum.

‘What’s up, love? You’re not yourself tonight,’ Molly remarked.

Needing to unburden herself, Queenie blurted everything out. ‘I just feel like I’m wasting my time, Mum. I can’t compete with the likes of Doreen. You should see her new hairstyle and outfit. She’s even bought one of those posh cigarette holders, and she’s painted a black line in pen down the back of her stockings. She looks like a bloody film star.’

Molly put her knitting down. ‘Now, now, I’m not having any more of this defeatist talk. You’re a beautiful young woman, Queenie, with your whole life ahead of you, and if Albie Butler is too blind to see it, then that’s his bleedin’ loss. As for your mate Doreen, beauty’s only skin deep. She has a mouth like a sewer and drinks like your father, by the sounds of it. If Albie chooses her, then he was never the man for you in the first place.’

Queenie was about to reply when her father staggered through the door and collapsed in a heap on the threadbare armchair. ‘Where’s my dinner, woman?’ he slurred.

When her mum dashed into the kitchen like a skivvy, Queenie took herself upstairs.

An hour later, Queenie and Viv lay in silence as they listened to the horrid noises coming from their parents’ bedroom. Their father was grunting like the pig he was.

Viv propped herself up on her elbow. ‘I’m not sure I want to get married, Queenie.’

Queenie stroked her sister’s face. ‘I know what you mean, but when we get married it’ll be different. We’ll choose good men, not a bad one like Mum did.’

‘But we’ll still be forced to have sex with them, won’t we? I don’t think I’m going to like sex. It sounds awful.’

‘I know it does. But hopefully with a good man it won’t be so bad. We have to do it if we want to have babies.’

Vivian breathed deeply. The noises had stopped now. ‘Night, Queenie.’

‘Night, Vivvy. Sleep tight and don’t let those bed bugs bite.’

Arriving home the following evening, Vivian was peeved to see her sister all done up to the nines again.

‘You look all dirty and sweaty, Viv. What you been up to?’ asked Queenie, as she carefully applied her eye-liner.

‘Playing rounders with Mary Moggins and Nelly Brown. You’re not going out again, are you?’ Vivian snapped.

Queenie swung around and held her sister’s dirty hands. ‘I’m seventeen now, Viv. I’m too old to be playing rounders and hopscotch. You’ve got Mary and Nelly to play with, haven’t you? I know you’ve got a cob on because I’ve started going out on a Friday night. But I’m just at a different stage of my life than you. It doesn’t mean I love you any less. You’ll always be my number one best friend. Just think, in a year or so, you’ll be working and as soon as you look old enough, we can go to the pub together.’

‘Really? What, on our own? Without Doreen? I don’t mind Aggie so much.’

Queenie smiled. It was only natural Vivvy was a bit jealous. She’d probably be the same, if the boot was on the other foot. ‘Yes, really. Without Doreen. Never forget, blood is thicker than water, Sis.’

It was Queenie’s idea that she and Aggie get to the pub early, so they could get all their hellos to the regulars out of the way before Eliza and Doreen arrived.

Bagging their usual table, Aggie Brown was beyond herself with excitement when Terry Marney kept looking over and smiling, then approached her and offered to buy herself and Queenie a drink.

‘I told you he kept staring at you last week,’ Queenie said, genuinely pleased for Aggie. ‘I bet he asks you on a date before the evening is over.’

Eliza and Doreen turned up just after eight. Queenie stood up, hugged both and introduced them to Aggie. ‘Aggie comes here quite often, so knows a lot of people in here. She’s been introducing me to some.’

‘Ooh, do you know Albie Butler?’ asked Doreen.

‘Yes. He’s a nice chap. His fiancée is lovely too. He’s singing in here tonight,’ Aggie replied, repeating word for word what Queenie had told her to say.

‘Albie’s engaged?’ Doreen exclaimed.

‘As far as I know, yes. To Suzanne,’ Aggie replied.

Queenie wanted to laugh at the look of shock on Doreen’s face, but obviously couldn’t, so instead insisted she get the first drink. In Queenie’s eyes, this was payback. Doreen should never have left her alone with that Yank who’d tried to take advantage of her. It wasn’t a total lie that she and Aggie could get caught out on, as Dennis the pianist had told them only last Friday that Albie had been engaged to a lass called Suzanne and they’d broken up when Albie had gone away at the start of the Blitz.

‘Hello, treacle. Let me get these drinks,’ said a dark-haired man in a smart suit. He had a big scar across his cheek and looked a bit of a villain. ‘I want you to introduce me to your blonde mate. What’s her name?’

‘Doreen. Doreen Laine. Four gin and tonics then, please, and can you make one a double?’

The man winked. ‘My pleasure. I’m Jimmy, by the way. Jimmy Foster. She single, is she, your mate Doreen?’

Queenie forced a smile. She’d seen the way men’s heads turned when Doreen entered the pub and she was desperate for Albie not to look at her in that way. ‘Yes. Doreen’s single. Help me carry the drinks over and I’ll introduce you.’

Queenie handed Doreen the double. ‘Doreen, meet Jimmy,’ she grinned.

The rest of the evening was a success. Doreen was tipsy and seemed to be rather taken by the charming Jimmy Foster. Albie did look at Doreen a few times, but she was too engrossed with Jimmy to notice.

Queenie politely declined the offer of a lift home. Terry had finally asked Aggie on a date and Queenie wasn’t going to be the only girl left on the shelf. Even Eliza was courting now. She was sweet on a Jewish lad called Alan.

Queenie waved goodbye to Eliza and Doreen and watched intently as Albie sang his last song of the evening: ‘For Me and My Gal’. She’d drunk more gin than usual, was feeling brave. If Albie wasn’t interested in her, it was best she knew so she could move on and find another man with the right credentials. Life at home wasn’t getting any easier.

‘Where you going?’ asked Aggie.

‘To speak to Albie. I’ll be back in a minute.’

Albie was talking to a man, but Queenie marched over and tapped him on the shoulder nevertheless. It was shit or bust time. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt you, but could I have a quick word alone with you, Albie?’

‘Of course, lovey. It’s Queenie, isn’t it? I always remember your name as my dear departed nan was a Queenie too,’ Albie smiled, leading her over to a quiet corner of the pub.

Queenie took a deep breath and looked up into the dazzling green eyes of the man who towered over her. ‘I’m not going to beat around the bush, Albie. I like you. You seem a nice man and I was wondering if you’d like to accompany me to the dance that’s being held in the church hall in Stepney next Saturday evening?’

For once in his life, Albie Butler was at a loss for words. He’d been aware that Queenie was sweet on him, like many other women were. But never had one been so bullish as to march up to him and ask him on a date before. That took guts. It was always the gentleman’s duty to ask the lady.

Albie studied Queenie. Her blonde mate was far more his usual type. But there was something endearing about Queenie and he could hardly say no to her face, could he? ‘It would be my pleasure to accompany you to the dance next Saturday.’

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