Another Life Altogether: A Novel - By Elaine Beale Page 0,34

a public celebration but as a carefully orchestrated personal insult.

Finally, Auntie Mabel appeared, a little paper Union Jack flag in her hand. “What, you can’t take your own daughter to see Her Royal Highness on the one day she comes to Hull?” she’d said, looking at my father with utter contempt.

“It’s against my principles,” my father answered, puffing out his chest. “I’m an ardent socialist.”

“More like an armchair socialist,” Mabel replied. Then she turned to me. “Come on, darling, let’s you and me go and enjoy our national heritage, shall we?”

When we arrived, the crowd that lined the parade route was at least ten deep, and even when Mabel lifted me onto her shoulders I still couldn’t see over the rows of excited, bobbing heads. “I tell you what,” she said. “Why don’t you squeeze your little self to the front. I’ll wait for you here. Go on. Then you’ll get the best view.”

I eased my way to the steel barriers to push my face into the cold metal, the weight of the crowd swaying against my back. It seemed to take forever for the Queen to arrive, and I felt my heart racing with the anticipation around me. Then suddenly the crowd surged with excitement as her massive Rolls-Royce came into view. I pushed my hand through the metal barrier, waving the little paper Union Jack flag that Mabel had given me. The car pulled alongside us and then, just as quickly, it was gone. All I saw of the Queen was a white gloved hand waving genteelly and a flash of frosted hair. “What did she look like?” Tracey asked.

“Very …” I searched for the right word. “Regal. She looked very regal.”

“What’s that?”

“Royal,” I answered.

“Well, yeah, she would, wouldn’t she, her being the Queen?” Tracey shook her head slowly, as if I were the stupidest person she’d had the misfortune of laying eyes on. I could feel any hope of making her like me slip away. I could already envision her taunting me in the corridors of my new school, egged on by a gang of sneering kids. “Anyway,” she continued, “I don’t know why you’d want to live in London. It wasn’t up to much, far as I’m concerned. This year the Young Wives did a trip to Whitby, and that was a lot better. I won two pounds on the amusements.”

“You did?” It wasn’t as much as some of my mother’s bingo wins, but two pounds was still a lot of money.

“Yeah, on one of them one-arm bandits. But then I lost it all on one of those Penny Falls machines. They’re a bloody rip-off, if you ask me.” She let out a weary sigh. “Listen, I’m going to get some goodies. They’ve got a sale on sweets at the Co-op.” She eased herself off the fence. “You coming?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, who else do you think I’m talking to?” I was astonished at the invitation. I felt a sudden, hopeful thrill. Then the thrill abruptly abated. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

My cheeks began to burn. “I’m banned. They banned me from the Co-op.” Surely now she’d think me far worse than an interloper who lurked around her neat little housing estate. I was a teenage vandal. A newcomer who was already the scourge of the village.

“They banned you?” she asked. I was surprised when the flat tone of her voice brightened and she looked at me with undisguised delight.

“Yes. This big ugly woman with black hair told me I wasn’t allowed in anymore.”

“Oh, you mean Mrs. Franklin. I call her Frankenstein ’cause she’s such a bloody monster.” Tracey laughed. “So, what happened?”

I gazed into her excitement and felt overpowered by its draw, giddy with the possibilities it promised. “She tried to overcharge me,” I said, folding my arms across my chest as if still outraged by the idea. “So I got into an argument with her, but she wouldn’t listen. Then I got so mad I kicked over this display they had of Mr. Kipling’s cakes. And then I just stormed out of the shop.”

Tracey’s mouth gaped. “That was you?”

I nodded.

“Bloody hell. My mum heard about that. Her friend Doris was in there when it happened. Said there was boxes of chocolate cakes all over the floor. Said Frankenstein was bloody livid. So you’re not one of those boring brainboxes, then?”

I shrugged, trying to look casual, but I couldn’t help smiling. If only I could extend this moment, make Tracey want to be my friend, I knew I could leave