After leaving Natalie, I drove listlessly and reached Eccleston, a small village on the northern edge of the Shatley estate. I'd come often as a kid, running along the connecting road with my school pals to play on the swings and the rocking horses in Eccleston Park. I left the Austin at the park entrance and strolled between the trees and bushes lining the main pathway to the paddling pool. I reached the pool and stared at its cold, slate grey surface. My reflection stared back at me.

     I look at the sky. It had a strange greenish tinge as though the Gods were arguing among themselves. Mixed thoughts tumbled through my mind. During the drive, I had planned what to do this evening. When I reached home, I found Lassie sitting at my back door. I gave her biscuits on the kitchen porch, put out a saucer of warm, sweet tea and left her there.

     At a quarter to five o'clock, after ensuring Lassie was not following, I walked quickly down Paper Road and stopped opposite the main gate of the Milford Steel Company where powerful arc lights illuminated the entrance. Laura could not possibly miss seeing me here. The many hammers of the Byfield Light Forgings Company were battering toward their evening break. I had never been so close to their combined noise. Several different buzzers and hooters indicated the time was five o'clock. Within minutes, the street was full of workers dashing home.

     I spotted Laura with a girl whom I recognised vaguely. She saw me standing across the road under the trees and for a moment I thought she would ignore me. She spoke to her friend, left her to walk alone, and came across to me. A train surged by on the line behind the Milford factory, steam discharging from its stack in huge whitish clouds against the dark night.

     "Hello," she said. Even in the few days since I had last seen her, the sheen had left her face. She looked cautious, suspicious. "You've got a cheek showing up, Alan. What is it this time?"

     "I'm apologising for what I did. There's no excuse for it."

     "There isn't, is there?" Her tone was sharp.

     "I saw Natalie today as I was visiting John Schaeffer at his factory."

     Brown eyes gazed at me, trying to gauge my meaning. "Why did you go there?"

     "To play bloody hell with him, that's why. I asked why did he telephone you when he could have told me face to face."

     "Face to face?" Laura said acidly. "You've lied often to me like that. What's the point of being face to face if you still tell lies?"

     Cyclists were filling the road from Byfields. I pulled her gently to the roadside. "I've treated you bad, Laura."

     "Yes, you have." She drew a deep breath. "So what did you tell this Natalie then?"

     "I told her we are finished. I'm not seeing her again - or any other girl either." I took hold of one of her hands. She pulled it away. "Okay," I said, "I've lied often, but I'm asking you to come back. That's because I love you. If you don't come back now, I'll keep asking until you do." I reached for her hand and this time she did not pull away.

     "Do I have a house to come back to?"

     "I don't know yet, but I've been chasing the Housing Department for an answer."

     "Is that why you're not at work today?"

     "No. I took the day off to visit Schaeffer."

     "Does Mr Dingle know that?"

     "Of course he doesn't. Couldn't very well tell Dingle about Schaeffer, could I?"

     "No - maybe not." The home-bound traffic from Byfields was getting heavier. We slipped across the road and gained the narrow pavement. I would have walked on toward home but Laura stopped. "Edwina's asking for you."

     I nodded, said I missed her. Then said, "I never did anything with Natalie. We never made love, or anything like that. I didn't have that sort of feeling for her."

     We walked along the pavement and upon reaching Eccles Road, she stopped. "I'll think about what you've said, Alan. I do want to come back - but not to how things were. And how can we get back together if you lose the house? Mum won't have anything to do with you now."

     "So you've told her?"

     "Of course I've told her. You can't walk into your mum's house with a loaded suitcase and a kid tucked under your arm and say nothing, can you?"

     We stood there for some moments, then she said, "Let's go somewhere this weekend."

     "Okay, come watch me play football. I'm not sure where the match is at but I'll be going to the Bull on Thursday night. How about coming there with me?"

     "Yes, if that's what you want."

     "It is what I want. And after the match we'll have a meal somewhere, then we can nip into the Horse and listen to young Bobby playing jazz with Lucky Needham. Bobby joins the army the following Thursday."

     "Sounds good to me. I must get home now or Mum will worry about me."

     She would have walked away but I caught hold of her arm. "I'll pick you up at seven-thirty on Thursday. Is that okay?"

     She nodded, whispered softly, 'yes', and walked quickly along Eccles Road.

     I hit the sack at ten o'clock, not waking until the clock alarm sounded seven hours later.



"Hello, you lazy bugger," said Joe Hillian as I entered the forge after clocking in. His trousers were smoking by the furnace door. "Where were you yesterday then? We thought you'd gone to Denmark with the old man."

     "Why should I go to Denmark?"

     Joe smirked. "It's that special order we did for Olaffsons. Old Errol Dingle told us yesterday. He says a big order has come our way." Joe chuckled. "I've never seen him smile so much." Joe moved away from the heat and brushed at smoke rising from his pants. "Cheadle flew to Denmark yesterday morning and we thought you'd gone with him. But Dingle said you're still having trouble with the Housing Department."

     "That's right. I should be hearing something soon though."

     Joe squared his shoulders. "Aye, well I hope things go well for you lad."

     I said thanks and walked through the machine shop to my lathe.

     Wally Mullins hurried across to me from a glowing stove. "Where were you yesterday? You missed all the fun."

     "Fun - what fun?"

     "Terry Bonsall's got the monk on. He doesn't like it because I'm going away Saturday."

     I donned my overalls. "Where are you going, Wally?"

     "Have a guess."

     "I've no idea."

     "Yes, you have."

     "No, I haven't."

     Wally grinned. "Go on, have a guess. In fact, you'll never guess."

     "Okay. If I'll never guess then it's no use me guessing, is there?"

     Wally grinned again. "I'm going to a foreign country. Guess which one."

     "Denmark."

     Wally's brow furrowed. "Why should I go to Denmark?"

     I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know. Maybe you're helping old man Cheadle."

     Wall's mouth opened. "Oh, that! You've heard then. Cheadle's come back with a big order. And talk about you missing the fun! Old Errol was in good mood yesterday. We even saw him smile. Guess what he was smiling at."

     I rubbed a protective coating oil on my hands. "I don't know, Wally. What was he smiling at?"

     Wally snickered. "Old Dingle became a granddad yesterday."

     The buzzer droned for the six o'clock start. Wally scuttled to his machine and called across to me, "I'm going to Scotland  on Saturday until the following Wednesday. Dingle's given me two working days off because I never took my Summer holidays - I was helping the office with their stocktaking." He sneaked over from his machine and rested on my lathe tail stock. "You know that old bird with feathers in her hat?" When I nodded, he said, "She's Scottish, you know."

     "You've told me. And I remember her accent."

     "Yeah, well, it's fixed for Saturday."

     "What is?"

     "She's picking me up outside here in her 1926 Ford."

     I started my lathe. "What, outside here?"

     Suddenly, Wally ducked away from my tail stock and darted to his lathe.

     Seconds later Dingle joined me. "I suppose, young man, that you have already heard by jungle drums that Mr Cheadle has been to Denmark?"

     "Yes, Mr Dingle - I've heard."

     Dingle swaggered on his heels. "The Denmark Job went beautifully. Not only is the Ollafson Company impressed with our work, but they have invited Mr Cheadle to visit them again in Copenhagen. We have won large orders. A lot of this is down to you and the lads in the forge. I'd like to express my thanks." Before I could answer, he went on, "How did it go with the Housing yesterday?"

     "I had a couple of interviews. I should hear their answer soon."

     Dingle leaned to my left ear. "If things don't pan out for you I know of a place where you and your family can stay." He sniffed - back in Works Manager mode. "Right, now let's have some work done, eh?"

     He was about to strut away with his hands stuffed deep into his white coat's pockets, when I said, "I hear congratulations are in order, Mr Dingle."

     He frowned. "What about, lad?"

     "About you becoming a granddad."

     Dingle beamed for a moment. "Ah, yes, but becoming a grandparent doesn't half make you feel old. But it makes you proud, as well."



I found the letter on my doormat Thursday evening. The postmark was Shefton. I put it aside and rushed upstairs for a quick bath. I was quicker than quick - for the water was barely lukewarm. I dried off, slapped on talcum powder, put on my second choice suit, hurried downstairs and fried a couple of eggs. Cut a chunk of bread. Made a pot of tea. Switched on the electric fire and opened the letter. It was from the Housing Department. I read every word of it - twice.


At exactly seven-thirty I pulled up outside the Atkinson house. Laura was looking out the front window. Within a minute, she was with me in the car. I drove rapidly to the Bull and took her to the table where I had sat with Natalie the previous Thursday.

     "You're a bit edgy tonight," she said, sitting down.

     "If the Housing Department knock me back, will you still have me?"

     "Yes, I want us to try again. But you've heard something, haven't you?"

     I dropped the Housing Department letter on the table. "Read that."

     She pulled the letter from the envelope and scanned its contents. Then she looked up at me. "They've let you keep the house!"

     "Yes. You can move your stuff back in now - if you want to." I grinned. "And don't forget Edwina. Mind you, I was told by a Housing officer if the decision had gone against us they would have re-housed us but they couldn't guarantee in which area." Just then, Tony Ross came in with Rita Savannah. I asked them to join us.

     Tony smiled at Laura. "How are you, love?"

     "She's okay," I said. "Now listen, both of you are good pals of mine and Laura knows I've been buggering about with Natalie Schaeffer. I've packed in with Natalie. There's nothing between us. I was a bloody fool to have a fancy bird. That's over."

     Rita put a hand on my arm. "It takes a lot of bottle to come out and say that." She smiled at Laura. "What would you like to drink, love?"

     Tony rose. "Come on," he said, grabbing my arm. "I reckon you've earned yourself a pint."



On Friday evening, with Laura having arranged for me to speak to her mother, I called to Mum Atkinson's house and knocked on the front door. She let me in. We were alone together in the living-room. She sat by the fire but I remained standing. I told her how I felt about Laura. "I love her, Mum. I've done things and said things that were wrong. I've been a liar and a lousy, inconsiderate husband. I'm putting that right as of now. I'm saying thanks for looking after Edwina. I've treated you bad too and I'd like us to start again and maybe understand each other." I edged to the door. "Guess I'd better go now."

     "No." Mum Atkinson stood up. "Don't go yet - stay and have a cup of tea."




On Saturday morning, Wally stayed in his own workspace until the nine o'clock buzzer sounded. For the past two days he'd been biting his finger nails and giving everybody at Cheadles the hump. The workforce knew about his trip to Scotland and that a Scottish bird was collecting Wally at midday. He was not aware that several huge flags with 'Good luck, Wally' were ready to wave him off.

     He almost tripped over his orange box in his hurry to join me. "I was telling you about Terry having the monk on, Al." He ripped open a packet of cheese sandwiches. "Guess what it was about."

     "No more guessing, Wally, just tell me for Christ's sake."

     "He's upset that I've got a bird and he hasn't. But he soon will have because my Scottish bird has got another old dear lined up for him."

     "Is she Terry's type?"

     Wally tittered. "She must be - they say she looks like the Loch Ness Monster."

     "Good for Terry," I said. "By the way, I see you've brought a large suitcase, Wally."

     "I have. Mind you, it might be a big suitcase but there's not much in it. She told me to travel light. I've got my suit in it and that's about all. I'll change into it at twelve." He rubbed his hands together. "I can't wait." He gave me a sidelong glance. "How's your fancy bird then? Have you got anything yet?"

     "Natalie and I are finished. I don't know if you believe it - and I don't care. But we have finished, right?"

     Wally scrutinised me and finally he nodded. "Okay - if you say so."

     "Just one other thing," I said, "Have you heard if the Schaeffers have any..."

     "The Schaeffers are bad bastards," Wally cut in. "You'll be wise to stay well clear of them." He ended the conversation by taking an enormous bite of cheese sandwich. Presently, he said, "there is one thing that bothers me about this trip to Scotland."

     "And what's that?"

     "I ain't got a firkin passport."




                                                      END