Maisie assumed that although she was only twenty-six, she would never marry again. After all, widows with a child in tow were not much of a catch when there were so many single women available. The fact that she always wore her engagement and wedding rings probably cut down the number of propositions she received at the tea shop, although one or two still tried it on. She didn’t include dear old Mr Craddick, who just liked to hold her hand.
Mr Atkins was one of Miss Tilly’s regulars, and he liked to sit at one of the tables where Maisie was serving. He dropped in most mornings, always ordering a black coffee and a piece of fruit cake. To Maisie’s surprise, after he’d paid his bill one morning, he invited her to the cinema.
‘Greta Garbo in Flesh and the Devil,’ he said, trying to make it sound more tempting.
This wasn’t the first time one of the customers had asked Maisie out, but it was the first time someone young and good-looking had shown any interest.
In the past, her stock response had succeeded in putting off the most persistent of suitors. ‘How kind of you, Mr Atkins, but I like to spend any spare time I have with my son.’
‘Surely you could make an exception for just one evening?’ he said, not giving up quite as easily as the others.
Maisie glanced quickly at his left hand: no sign of a wedding ring, or, even more damning, a pale circle revealing that one had been removed.
She heard herself saying, ‘How kind of you, Mr Atkins,’ and agreed to meet him on Thursday evening, after she’d put Harry to bed.
‘Call me Eddie,’ he said, leaving a sixpenny tip.
Maisie was impressed when Eddie turned up in a Flatnose Morris to drive her to the cinema. And to her surprise, all he got up to while they sat together in the back row was to watch the film. She wouldn’t have complained if he had put an arm around her shoulder. In fact, she was considering how far she would let him go on their first date.
After the curtain came down, the organ lit up and they all rose to sing the National Anthem.
‘Care for a drink?’ asked Eddie as they made their way out of the cinema.
‘I ought to be getting home before the trams pack up for the night.’
‘You don’t have to worry about the last tram, Maisie, when you’re with Eddie Atkins.’
‘All right then, just a quick one,’ she said as he guided her across the road to the Red Bull.
‘So what do you do, Eddie?’ Maisie asked as he placed a half pint of orange squash on the table in front of her.
‘I’m in the entertainment business,’ he said, without going into any detail. Instead, he switched the subject back to Maisie. ‘I don’t have to ask what you do.’
After a second orange juice, he looked at his watch and said, ‘I’ve got an early start tomorrow, so I’d better get you home.’
On the way back to Still House Lane, Maisie chatted about Harry, and how she was hoping he would join the choir at Holy Nativity. Eddie seemed genuinely interested, and when he brought the car to a halt outside No. 27, she waited for him to kiss her. But he just jumped out, opened the car door for her and accompanied Maisie to her front door.
Maisie sat at the kitchen table and told her mother everything that had happened, or not happened, that night. All Grandma had to say was, ‘What’s his game?’