This series of stories will be titled 'I'm surprised I turned out as well as I did, given my childhood ...' 59

I went out with my friend, Cathy the next day. I told her all about everything. Finishing with Scooby-doo (she never liked him…) and the baby rabbit and then I told her about ‘Wheelie-man’.

When we got back to my house, someone had called. No, they hadn’t left a number to call back. In other words, the person that answered the phone, probably my father, didn’t want me to call him back.

That meant it would be best if I called from a phone box. But I didn’t have his number…

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The added complexities to this is that he had only just got a phone line put in (yeah, it was that long ago) so his number wasn’t in the phone book. I used my initiative and went round to my friend’s house, his ex.

She still had his number!

Cathy and I went round to the Post Office where the closest public phone box was. I called him.

We had quite a chat. He asked if I’d thought on what Mick had asked me and I told him I hadn’t thought about it yet. (Not really had time, dead bunnies and everything). I promised to think about it and he’d call me the next day, after I got back from work.

That night I was in a great mood.

Yeah, I didn’t have a boyfriend, but it was looking promising.

I worked in the kitchen of the nightclub. Back in those days when they had a restaurant and it was a little more classy, they served meals, up to a certain time.

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Keep an eye on that bridge... it's an important factor

I started out working there on a Sunday, washing the dishes. I progressed to sometimes Friday and Saturday nights too and eventually, I got the opportunity of making the starters for the meals.

I got pretty good at making Egg Mayonnaise – basically, a couple of hard-boiled eggs, smothered with Rose-Marie sauce, garnished with lettuce and other salad and sprinkled with paprika to give a bit of colour.

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I also made the Prawn Cocktails. I had my own method for these. Because we couldn’t make too many up at once, because they wouldn’t keep, I had to make them as the order came in – great fun! I had free rein and could use as many prawns (tiny little shrimps) within reason. I shredded the lettuce and hid a few prawns in there because I hate getting through all the delicious prawns to find there’s only lettuce left to go at.

Decorate the glass with a couple of the larger prawns, sprinkle a touch of paprika over the Rose-Marie sauce and there you go!

The kitchen was heaving that night. It was especially busy and the starters were going down a storm. My main duties were, of course, standing in front of the sink washing, rinsing and drying the plates as they came in.

The dirty plates were stacked either to the side or in the deeper sink to my left. I hated when they put them in there because it meant I didn’t have anywhere to rinse the plates I was about to wash, which made the dishwashing water dirtier faster. Ahh, the subtle nuances of life as a kitchen maid…

We were allowed a meal when we were at work and because I didn’t smoke and took no smoke-breaks, (plus the fact that both my parents worked there, and I was looked after,) I was allowed to ‘graze’ rather than have one sit-down meal.

If I wasn’t busy and I wasn’t getting in the way, I’d nip up and grab a cup of soup or coffee or whatever. The coffee was always on the go because of the restaurant.

So there I was, elbow-deep in the washing-up water, minding my own business, the window onto the carpark open because it was hot and steamy in the kitchen – a face appeared at the open window. Then another. I almost dropped the plate I was washing, he made me jump out of my skin!

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said in a thick Liverpudlian accent.

“I don’t suppose you could get us a coffee, could you? We’re freezin’.”

Hmm… Well, I got them both a coffee – with cream and sugar and it… ‘saved their lives’ so that was my good deed for the day (night).

The lads had a story to tell and they told it while I carried on working. They’d walked from Nottingham to the club. They’d been at the football match between Liverpool and Nottingham Forest (my team) and they’d missed the bus.

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They saw the lights from the motorway (they weren’t supposed to be walking along that busy stretch of road in the dark – DANGEROUS!) and because they were really inappropriately dressed, they were cold. They also couldn’t get into the club because of the dress code. Remember the bridge? That's the major motorway they walked along.

“Can I take you home after you finish?”

“Take me home? How do you propose you take me home? By Piggy-back?”

“We can walk…”

“I’m not walking home after a full shift standing up all night. I’ll get my usual lift, thanks.”

“I’d crawl over a mile of broken glass for you,” he said. “Can you let us in?”

When I told him no and I was obviously not receptive to his romantic overtures… he said, “You’ve probably got a boyfriend anyway… Have you?”

I told him I did have a boyfriend and though it wasn’t technically correct, I knew I was going to tell Trev that I’d thought about it and I’d like to go out with him.

So the two lads from Liverpool knew before Trev did.

They were gone by the time we finished work. I wonder if they got back home to Liverpool… it’s a long walk.

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