Walking Back to Happiness. Anne Bennett

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СКАЧАТЬ Arthur drew her away and put his arms around her shivering body. ‘Come on, you’ll get your death of cold,’ he said.

      ‘Oh, but, Arthur, it’s so beautiful. Majestic, somehow.’

      ‘And free,’ Arthur added.

      Hannah wished he hadn’t said that. It spoilt the moment. After a while though, Hannah was chilled through and she looked longingly at the numerous cafés around them. ‘I’d love a cup of tea or coffee, Arthur,’ she said. ‘It would thaw me out.’

      ‘Nonsense, my dear, it’s not cold, just bracing,’ Arthur said. ‘And really it’s pointless wasting our money in such places. You’ll spoil your appetite for dinner at the lodgings and after all, that is paid for. We’ll just walk a little further and then turn back and be in good time for it. Hold my arm and you’ll feel warmer.’

      Hannah felt no warmer, but held on to Arthur’s arm anyway, unable to think of anything further to say. Anyhow, she was interested in seeing Blackpool Tower, which Arthur told her was modelled on the Eiffel Tower in Paris, France, and she gazed at it in awe. There was an entrance fee to climb it with delights promised on every floor, but Arthur declared it to be a total waste of money. ‘What would you want to climb up there for, my dear?’ he asked Hannah incredulously, when she expressed a desire to go. ‘You’re complaining of the cold now. Don’t you think you’ll be blown to pieces and colder than ever on the top of that?’

      ‘Yes, but I’d still like to go. It’s just the experience, isn’t it?’

      ‘A costly experience.’

      ‘It’s not so much.’

      ‘Maybe not to you,’ Arthur said, turning away as he spoke. ‘Come along, we’ll be late for dinner if we’re not careful.’

      Hannah followed glumly behind him, feeling sure the dinner they’d ordered at the hotel would be little improvement on the one they had served to them the previous night. Or indeed the breakfast that morning – lumps of tepid scrambled egg served on old, soggy toast with barely a scrape of butter on it.

      Most of the other residents were much older than Hannah and Arthur and not inclined to make conversation and Hannah felt the dining room to be a dismal unfriendly place. The food was no help in dispelling this feeling and yet Arthur didn’t seem to find it a problem. It’s probably cheap, that’s why, Hannah thought later that day, as she chewed her way through sausages burned on the outside and still pink inside and tasting like sawdust. Cheapness seemed to be the only thing Arthur cared about.

      It was the next day after another, fraught night when Hannah had to say similar consoling words to Arthur that Hannah finally lost her temper. It happened because Arthur declared the Winter Gardens too expensive a place to go inside.

      ‘All I’ve heard you say since we arrived is that this, that and the other is too dear or a waste of money,’ she cried. ‘This is our honeymoon! It’s supposed to be enjoyable. Much as I like the sea, I don’t want to remember that on my honeymoon all I did was wander up and down looking at it.’

      Arthur looked affronted. ‘Hannah, if I may say so, you do not understand the cost of things,’ he said stiffly.

      ‘Yes I do!’ Hannah retorted. ‘I’m not a child. But if money is a problem, I’d rather not have had a honeymoon here at all. It would have been easier not showing me a host of delights I cannot enjoy or take part in.’

      ‘Please, Hannah, keep your voice down,’ Arthur hissed, looking around at the people in the street anxiously. ‘People are looking.’

      ‘Well, let them look,’ Hannah snapped. Her eyes were flashing fire and her face bright with temper as she went on. ‘I’m not putting up with this penny-pinching attitude any longer.’

      What she was about to do to change it she hardly knew, but before she was able to make another retort, Arthur glared at her, horrified, and then turned from her and began walking away. Hannah realised she had two choices; either to turn after him berating him like a fishwife, or leave him to sulk and go about on her own.

      She still felt too angry with Arthur to run after him and despite her spirited retort, she had a horror of showing herself up in public and so she stood for a moment, watching Arthur’s stiff back get further away from her before turning her head and walking the other way.

      All in all she had a good afternoon. She had a little money of her own and she intended to use it. She’d never seen slot machines and one-armed bandits that Blackpool had in abundance and normally would have been more careful with her money, but that day she threw caution to the wind and, though she lost every penny she spent, she decided it was good fun. She then tried unsuccessfully to get the arm of a crane that was encased in a glass box to lift a watch up for her, and she put money in the laughing policeman, which put a smile not only on her face, but anyone’s in earshot.

      She had little left after that, but enough to pay to climb the Tower. She stood on the top, buffeted by the wind as Arthur had prophesised, and unable to see much because of the leaden grey sky. But, she was still glad she did it. What was the point of coming to Blackpool and not climbing its most famous landmark?

      Once more on the ground, she wished she didn’t have to return to the dismal lodging house for the awful stuff they put in front of you under the guise of food. She looked longingly at the succulent fish and chips she saw people tucking into in the cafés and the smell of it made her stomach rumble. But she was nearly out of money and only had enough for one small cup of coffee before making her way back.

      Arthur greeted her coldly, which was only what she expected, and they ate the badly cooked lump of doughy, grisly, indeterminate meat covered in brown, tasteless gravy, that the lodging house described as steak and kidney pudding, in silence.

      It was as they started on the roly-poly pudding, which was made with the same dough as the dinner, but this time smeared with jam and covered with over-sweet yellow custard, that Hannah leaned towards Arthur. ‘Come on,’ she coaxed. ‘We can’t go on like this. I did have a point this morning, say what you like, but I did. You don’t like spending money on anything.’

      ‘Someone has to look after the pennies.’

      ‘I’m not expecting you to take me to expensive places or spend every penny,’ Hannah protested. ‘But just to relax now and then and not go all stiff and starchy if I suggest we have a few goes on the fair, or stop for a drink of coffee.’

      Begrudgingly, though never acknowledging that Hannah was right, Arthur did go to the fair later that day. It was not a success. It seemed to give Arthur actual pain to spend money and he showed such little emotion on any ride he went on that he dampened Hannah’s enthusiasm. The thrill of fear that rippled down Hannah’s back as the Big Wheel thrust them into the air made her want to scream, but the look on Arthur’s face stifled it in her throat, as it did her shout of exhilaration on the Carousel or the Big Dipper. As for the Ghost Train, Arthur was no earthly use to her. The long moans and sudden appearance of a skeleton looming up in the blackness and the spidery things that brushed her face and trailed in her hair caused her to start suddenly and give little yelps of terror. But no comforting arm came around her.

      Even the candyfloss was a disappointment; though she pulled large lumps off, as soon as she put it in her mouth it seemed to disappear and she got incredibly sticky. But she didn’t complain to Arthur and didn’t bother asking for a toffee apple, or an ice cream.

      That night Arthur made no attempt to touch Hannah and she was relieved СКАЧАТЬ