Battersea
Chapter 01 ~ A Fine Romance
Battersea
Chapter 01 ~ A Fine Romance
The Battersea Temperance Hall was an austere, solid Victorian building.
This hall was the draw card for many social events whether it was a fete, school concert, jumble sale or a Saturday night social.
This social or dance was held in the main hall with its drab colour palette of utilitarian cream and green
This hall smelled of tobacco, furniture polish and mustiness.
Overhead lights shone through fluttering crepe paper streamers onto a glittering swirl of dust motes that danced in time with the couples as they moved around the floor.
These evenings were the highlight of the week for many local people.
Battersea did the best with what it had, the men came in shiny suits and slicked back hair, with a hip flask of alcohol. For the women, it was an imitation of glamour - painted lips, curled hair and home made dresses.
For a few hours on a Saturday night, this was enough.
The women held on to their virtue until they were safely married, the men had no choice but to hold onto theirs.
This was the night for the women to wear a new pair of silk stockings, which would be fresh and new tonight and end up being patched and darned through the week until they were unwearable.
Mothers often came along to keep an eye on their daughters or to just get out of the house.
"I hope that George bloke is here tonight, I met him last time if you remember and he seemed nice, a bit cheeky but I did let him have a bit of a ‘you know’ to keep him interested," giggled a stout young woman, "he’s a Foreman where he works so he’s got a bit of dosh and good prospects. I think he’d be good husband material, I reckon he’d keep me in style."
"I’m telling you, I wouldn’t let any man try that with me, I’d give him a quick knee you know where." Remarked her thin, peroxide blonde friend.
"No Faye, it don’t work like that, he’ll just think you’re a cold fish, you’ll never catch yourself a bloke that way, keep them dangling and only let them have the lot when that bleeding ring is on your finger."
"You’re probably right, Jean, I certainly don’t have a Mister Right to lean on that’s for sure, I’d love to be married and have someone to look after me every day."
The two young women entered the hall full of hope and a head full of romantic ideas.
"You seeing that big girl again tonight Fred?" One man asked his friend.
"I hope so, Tom, I reckon I might crack it tonight, I softened her up last time, I could do with a bit of ‘how’s your father." Answered Fred.
"Got your Frenchys?" Asked Tom
"Don’t worry, I always carry a couple with me just in case, I hope I get to use them before they fall apart, I hate going into the chemist and asking for ‘em, his wife always seems to be there and I end up buying something I don’t need."
Cordial was all that was the only drink allowed, but most of the boys brought hip flasks filled with Dutch Courage which they added to the cordial.
They offered the women a sip in the hope that they may drop their guard just a little.
Some of the younger men weren’t seasoned drinkers and ended up sleeping it off on one of the benches, this was an evening wasted but the stories of conquest and bravado would do the rounds among the men on the factory floor on Monday.
Maude Lorraine Parrett, better known as Maudie to her family and friends was a local woman, she was an only child and her father ran The Castle, one of the best pubs in Battersea, that gave her some standing in the community.
She was a pretty woman, although inclined to plumpness, she had fair, clear skin and curly auburn hair.
She’d had a couple of dances with a few young men this evening but they seemed to be all hands and she didn’t like that sort of nonsense.
"Please don’t," cried Maudie, "I don’t like you doing that, it’s horrible."
"Please yourself lovey, can’t blame me for trying, you’re a smashing sort you know, anytime you want to change your mind, give me a yell, I’m always ready."
She was having none of that, she was saving herself for marriage.
"If it ever happens." She thought.
Maudie was in almost thirty. She was just too choosy, she’d had a few boyfriends but nothing seemed to come of those relationships so, here she was, a woman verging on middle age and still living at home.
Her parents despaired of her finding a husband. But Maudie was unconcerned.
"I don’t mind, of course I’d like children because I love babies but if it happens then it happens, I’m happy enough working at the pub." She would tell them.
Her parents were ever hopeful when she went to the dances but nothing ever did happen, there didn’t seem to be even one beau to whisk her off her feet.
"We’re going to be stuck with a spinster daughter and no grandchildren if she don’t find someone soon." Her father said to her mother.
"Hmm, she’s getting on and she’ll be too old for children if she don’t shift herself." Said her mother.
The dance continued, the evening was in full swing, cigarette smoke filled the air as the couples danced or chatted while some kissed in dark corners.
In the middle of all this, the band played a Fox Trot.
Barry Rossiter approached Maudie, who was sitting demurely on a bench with a glass of cordial in her hand, she looked pretty with her long, print voile dress spread around her.
Barry thought she looked beautiful with her long, shiny hair catching the light, her pink cheeks aglow and her delicate white skin shining, he was nervous but determined to speak to her.
"Nothing ventured, nothing gained," he said to himself, “would you…um…like the next dance?”
“Er….yes, thanks...” Maudie replied breathlessly.
Maudie put her drink on the bench and took a good look at her dancing partner, she saw a tallish, thin man with brown hair with a touch of grey at the temples and a small moustache. (that would have to go).
His suit was nicely pressed and he wore a bright, clean white shirt. "He looks like he has some substance." Thought Maudie as he led her to the floor.
"Well, he’s a good dancer." Maudie said to herself as they swirled and fox trotted around the floor, she was swept off her feet.
"She’s a great partner," thought Barry, "and she has some meat on her bones, I like that in a women."
He was overwhelmed by her closeness and was intoxicated by her perfume.
As the evening continued, some in the crowd were losing their inhibitions, helped by the contents of the hip flasks.
Meanwhile Maudie and Barry chatted, danced and relaxed in each other’s company.
"May I walk you home?" Barry asked shyly, " it’s a lovely night for a walk."
"I’d like that very much," Maudie replied, "I don’t like walking home alone, it’s not far but I would love your company."
Barry linked Maudie’s arm in his and walked her home.
As they walked she leaned into him and held his arm tightly and looked up sweetly at him, his heart lurched and he wanted to kiss her there and then.
"Would you like a cup of tea first - and a piece of cake perhaps?" He asked, hoping to spend a bit more time with Maudie.
"That would be lovely, I am a bit dry from all that cigarette smoke at the dance." She said, clutching her throat.
They stopped at a food van on the way and he bought tea and a piece of cake.
As they sat on a park bench drinking and eating, they discovered that they only lived a couple of streets away from each other.
“I must confess, I’ve never been to The Castle, my Pa likes the Bull & Bush, I don’t mind, that’s the place he likes, he’s the darts champion, so he’s not going anywhere else and his mates are there.” Barry said.
“Well, maybe one night you might come, Ma cooks lovely food, she even makes her own pork pies.” Maudie said.
Finishing their tea, they walked on, when they stopped outside the pub, Barry asked her if it would be alright if he called on her.
“ Yes, Oh yes." Maudie replied without hesitation.
He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and walked home with a spring in his step, smiling and humming to himself.
Barry called to see Maudie the next week.
"I was wondering if you would like to accompany me to the cinema, a Fred Astaire film is showing, it’s called Carefree, I think you’d like it, it has singing and dancing." Said Barry.
"Oh, that would be wonderful, I love musicals and Ginger Rogers is so lovely and she wears beautiful clothes. I would love to go, thank you." Maudie replied breathlessly.
The last thing Barry wanted to see was a musical but he knew Maudie would like it, if that was the case then he’d be able to sit through it.
The pair of them met several times over the next few months, One Sunday, Maudie prepared a picnic and they sat by the river. Barry thought she looked so lovely sitting on a rug with her white blouse and modest skirt.
"She looks just like the lady in the Bovril advertisement." He thought.
