Bye Bye Love. Patricia Burns

clean cotton dress with a pattern of pink and red flowers, so she added the red cardigan her mother had knitted her. Reluctantly, she picked up the horrible school mac. At least its pockets would be useful for carrying a handkerchief and some money. On the way down she called in at the bathroom and splashed some cold water on her face. Looking in the mirror, she practised a smile. She stood back and considered the full effect. She tightened the tie belt round her waist. Not bad. Not eighteen inches like her namesake, but it made her figure go in and out in all the right places, and who wanted to wear a corset like those southern belles? With a lighter heart, she went to join Jonathan again.

      The sea front was just coming to life as they walked towards the pier. Shutters were being taken down, doors opened, premises cleaned. Just like yesterday evening, people greeted Jonathan as they went along. As they passed the Golden Cod, Aunty Marge’s husband, Douggie, was opening up.

      ‘Morning Jonno, and young Scarlett!’ he called. ‘Off somewhere nice?’

      Immediately, Scarlett felt a little less strange. It wasn’t yet like the village, where she knew everyone, but at least somebody recognised her.

      ‘Morning! We’re going up the pier,’ she called back.

      ‘That’s the way, go and enjoy yourselves. You’re only young once.’

      Past the boating lake they went, and the full scale model of The Golden Hind, and up the steps to the pier.

      ‘Walk up and train back?’ Jonathan suggested.

      For the first time since her mother died, the leaden feeling had left Scarlett’s limbs. She had her energy back again.

      ‘Good idea!’

      They went round the pavilion, paid their entrance money and started up the long wooden walkway.

      ‘Just think, even the Yanks haven’t got one longer than this,’ Jonathan said.

      They marched along, first over mud, then over ever-deepening water. The wind tugged at Scarlett’s ponytail and whipped colour into her cheeks, the salt air freshened her face and filled her lungs. She felt alive again.

      By the time they were approaching the far end, a rain cloud was looming.

      ‘Come on, run!’ Jonathan cried, snatching at her hand.

      Together they raced up the walkway, past the train station and into the first amusement arcade, just as the shower arrived. Laughing and panting, they watched the heavy raindrops dimple the water and lash against the windows.

      ‘Made it!’ Scarlett said.

      Her hand was still tingling from where he had pulled her along.

      Jonathan turned away from the window to look at the nearest machine. It was a miniature crane in a glass case surrounded by a sea of small fluffy animals and cheap plastic dolls.

      ‘What would you like?’ he asked.

      Scarlett had tried to win something from similar things in the past. It was very difficult. Just as you got the end of the grab over the thing you wanted, it either closed too soon or didn’t catch hold of the prize properly.

      ‘A kitten,’ she said.

      Jonathan put his money in the slot, positioned the grab and dropped it over a white kitten with green glass eyes. The ends closed over its head.

      ‘You got it!’ Scarlett squealed.

      Up went the crane. The kitten wobbled in the feeble grip of the grab.

      ‘Careful, oh, careful!’ Scarlett gasped.

      She held her breath as the crane end juddered across the case to hover over the exit hole. The kitten was released from its grasp, landed on the lip of the hole, balanced for a second or two and toppled in to appear in the pocket on the outside. Jonathan picked it up and placed it in Scarlett’s waiting hands.

      ‘Oh, you’re so clever!’ Scarlett cried, delighted. She stroked the soft fur with her finger.

      ‘I’ve had a lot of practice,’ Jonathan said modestly.

      The rest of the day followed on the same high note. They explored all over the various decks, listened to the band, watched the steamers from London come in, visited the lifeboat and had beans on toast and tea in a café. When the sun came out, they played deck quoits; when it rained, they laughed at their contorted images in the hall of mirrors or wandered round the amusement arcades and put pennies in the laughing policeman and the haunted house and turned little handles at furious speed to beat each other at horse racing.

      At the end of the afternoon, they were leaning over the rail on the sun deck watching a steamer come alongside. The sailors threw the ropes, the men on the pier secured them, the gangplanks were run out and the passengers streamed ashore from their day trip to Herne Bay. Idly watching the crowds, one figure caught Scarlett’s attention. Her heart seemed to turn over in her chest. That hairstyle, those shoulders, that walk—

      ‘Mum!’ she cried out, starting towards the steps that led down to the lower deck, pushing people out of her way. ‘Mum, wait—!’

      Then she stopped short. Of course it wasn’t her mother. Her mother was—

      The whole happy day came crashing down around her. Her mother was dead. She would never see her again, never hear her voice or feel her arms around her. She was gone. Scarlett collapsed onto the step and wept, her grief all the more bitter for having been almost carefree only a few moments ago.

      ‘Scarlett? Scarlett, what’s the matter, what is it?’

      Scarlett just shook her head and cried all the harder. How could Jonathan understand? The pain of it tore at her.

      An arm came round her shoulder.

      ‘What is it? Was that your mother? We can catch up with her, Scarlett. We can find her. It’s not too late. Come on, I’ll help you.’

      ‘No, no—’ Scarlett tried to shake him off. ‘It’s not…her. She…she died. On C-Coronation day.’

      ‘Oh, Scarlett…’ his shocked voice was close to her ear. ‘I’m so sorry.’

      He didn’t tell her to stop crying. Instead she felt his other arm go round her and gently pull her towards him. Helplessly she sobbed on his shoulder while he patted her back and hordes of happy holiday-makers swirled past them.

      At last she subsided into sniffs and hiccups. She pulled away from him.

      ‘I’m s-sorry.’

      ‘It’s all right.’

      ‘I’ve spoilt your day.’

      She couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

      ‘No, you haven’t. It’s been a super day. Look…er… p’raps you’d like to go home now?’

      Home. Home was the Red Lion. Scarlett shook her head.

      ‘What, then?’

      She didn’t know. She couldn’t stay here on the pier, not now, but neither did she want to go back to the Trafalgar.

      ‘I don’t know.’

      ‘Come on.’

      Jonathan stood up and held out his hand. Scarlett let him pull her to her feet. Together they made their way towards the tram station.

      CHAPTER SIX

      ‘I ALWAYS thought there was something a bit dodgy about him,’ Jonathan’s mother said as she sat over her breakfast tea.

      ‘There’s always going to be something wrong, ain’t there?’ his father said. ‘Stands to reason. Man his age, if he ain’t got a place of his own, there’s a reason why.’

      He wiped the last of the fried egg from his plate with the last of the fried bread and sat back with a sigh of contentment.

      ‘That