'On Fridays Ray and Percy always nip down to the pub for a pint,' Dolly added shyly. 'Have a quick game of darts together.'
'Yeah, I look forward to my Friday nights,' Percy acknowledged as the car jerked forward and Dolly giggled.
'Tell you what, you can have a nice hot dip whilst I help Mum with the dinner and then you can borrow some of my clothes whilst yours are drying by the fire. Come on Percy. Get a move on. Or this girl will die of pneumonia.'
Bella didn't have the heart to argue. A bath sounded like heaven but she would have to pay the penalty of meeting the Taylors again. Still, as she gazed at the back of Percy's square, dependable head, she had to admit that the cosy interior of Chapel House Street was a far better prospect to the freezing cottage.
Percy landed his palm on the car horn and shook his fist. 'You blooming great idiot,' he shouted at a man on a bicycle inadvertently being blown in their path. 'You're not safe on that contraption.'
Dolly elbowed him fiercely in the ribs. ' 'Scuse the language, Bella. Ladies present, Percy Shine.'
'Oops, sorry girls. Forgot my manners I'm ashamed to say.'
Bella smiled at the picture they made together in the front seats. Some things didn't change after all. Dolly was the spit of her mother and it looked like Percy was following in Mr Taylor's footsteps. Dolly's startlingly awful taste in clothes, a bright red beret and a rust coloured raincoat, resembled a young Mrs T right down to the lace up boots on her size seven feet.
Yet Bella was envious of her friend. Dolly looked happy, even pretty in a sort of disorganized way and Percy wasn't bad looking either. He did have a nice smile as Dolly had said and it was lovely to be chauffeured.
'This is a nice car, Percy.' Bella leaned forward, her wet clothes making her shiver all the more.
'Yes,' he nodded proudly turning to wink at her. 'Second only in looks to the girl sitting next to me.'
Dolly giggled loudly giving Percy another shunt in the ribs. Bella reclined on the seat trying not to inhale the strong odour of fish. Apart from this small disadvantage, she was impressed with Dolly's catch. His suit, apart from the cap, looked reasonably modern and he had a nice straight back and broad shoulders.
'On Christmas Day Percy took us out to the country,' Dolly elaborated. 'It was really lovely, even though Mum and Dad and Ray was all a bit cramped in the back. We went over Bromley way, the posh part, you know. All them lovely houses and gardens.' Turning to Bella she grabbed the back of the seat. 'I'll bet Micky took you up West again to one of them revue clubs.'
Bella was trying to forget the terrible time she had had since Christmas. Micky didn't call round until New Year's Eve. He said he and Ronnie had been busy working all hours known to man. Bella hadn't told him how disappointed she had been on Christmas Eve. How every day had seemed like weeks with no word from him. And how finally she'd been forced to accept the fact that she was a long way down the list of his priorities. 'Sorry I didn't send a card,' she improvised to Dolly. 'But the time just flew by.'
'That's all right.' Dolly nodded wistfully.
'Hold tight girls, we're nearly there.' Percy tooted the horn with familiar ease as he steered the car into Chapel House Street where all the neat terraced houses were illuminated by the lights of their cosy front rooms. A far cry, Bella thought heavily, to the black coldness of Bow Street.
She couldn't wait to see the expression on Mrs Taylor's face.
Chapter 9
Battered cod had replaced the spam sandwiches though the five diners sitting at the table appeared to be savouring every bite. That was how it seemed to Bella, who was trying her best to swallow the fish that had been fried to within an inch of its life. Dorothy Taylor had served up the meal with as much aplomb as she served afternoon tea whilst Neville Taylor dutifully complimented his wife on her culinary triumph. Though on this occasion, Bella noted, the vegetables were not given credit as Mr Taylor's allotment was enjoying a "fallow" period.
Bella, though grateful for the hurriedly drawn bath and fresh change of clothing from Dolly's eclectic wardrobe – a woollen navy blue wool skirt and sunflower yellow blouse – was now wondering how she could politely refuse Mrs Taylor's margarine lashed white bread.
'No thank you, Mrs Taylor, I'm full.'
'Are you sure? You don't have much appetite for a growing girl.' Dorothy Taylor pushed the plate under her son's nose. 'Come on Raymond, eat up, there's a good boy.'
'Smashing dinner, Mum.' Glancing at Bella, Raymond Taylor flexed his muscles. He grabbed two slices, dropping them on his plate and smacking his lips.
Bella experienced a strong sense of déjà vu as she sat at the Taylor's dining table listening to the conversation; nothing had changed in their happy routine and if either Mr or Mrs Taylor or Raymond had felt upset about Bella's abrupt departure at her last visit, none of them referred to it.
'So how is office life suiting you, my dear?' Mr Taylor enquired as he dabbed his mouth with a napkin.
'Very nicely, Mr Taylor.'
'The staff seem all right do they?'
Bella nodded as she surreptitiously tried to divide up her crusty fish from the stalks of over cooked cabbage, hiding as much as she could beneath the mashed potato.
'You'll never go wrong with a good team behind you,' Mr Taylor continued as he gazed up at the ceiling for inspiration. 'I can honestly say if it wasn't for the support of my colleagues I wouldn't be where I am today. A good rapport with your subordinates is worth its weight in gold. Twenty years I've
