Page 58 of The Stolen Child

Elsie shrugged, flopping into her couch and curling her feel up under her.

‘Is everything okay with Reggie?’ Sally asked. The question was met with silence. ‘If you want him to come along tonight, I don’t mind, honestly.’

While Sally didn’t relish being a third wheel, she always had a great time with them. Reggie was good company, full of funny stories. Last week, he’d had them both in stitches about an incident with a rabid dog. He was generous too, insisting on buying the rounds for not only Elsie, but also Sally.

‘I keep telling you, Reggie and I ain’t no Romeo and Juliet; we’re not tied at the hips. I told him I didn’t want to see him tonight,’ Elsie announced, picking up a piece of lint from her denim flares.

Sally sensed that Elsie’s mood was more complicated, than whatever was going on with Reggie. But she decided not to probe further for now. She knew Elsie. She’d only open up if she decided she wanted to.

Elsie picked up a copy of the Evening Post newspaper from the coffee table. Her jaw tightened as she pointed to the glaring headline out loud.

‘Killer may strike again’ warning.

‘Scumbag,’ Elsie said. ‘I can’t stop thinking about those poor women. Emily Jackson left three children behind. Wilma McCann, four.’

Sally’s stomach heaved when thinking about what those women had been through. She noticed Elsie’s hand shaking and reached over to lay hers on top of Elsie’s.

‘I know. It’s scary. Even the name they’ve dubbed him, the Yorkshire Ripper. It sends shivers down my spine. But, whoever he is, he’s a long way from London.’

Elsie threw a look at Sally, rolling her eyes. ‘I bet that’s cold comfort for the poor sods working at Battersea Park every night.’

Sally had seen the prostitutes who stood on the corner of the park after dark. ‘We can only hope that the police find him. He’ll have to slip up.’

‘It’s the way the press talk about the women. As if they deserved what they got, because they were prostitutes,’ Elsie said, her voice laced with anger.

Sally looked at her friend in confusion. ‘I know it’s unfair. But why are you getting so worked up about this, Elsie? Talk to me. What’s going on?’

Sally had felt that her friend had been holding back something from her for a long time. And she knew that if she’d only unburden herself with Sally, it would help. Elsie looked about to say something for a moment, but she remained silent.

Sally tried another tactic, stretching her arms above her head. ‘What do you want to do tonight? It’s our favourite day of the week – no work tomorrow. Don’t know about you, but I plan to sleep until lunchtime.’

Elsie’s face remained set like stone.

‘Don’t be like that,’ Sally cajoled. ‘I’ve been looking forward to tonight all week.’ She moved closer to her friend and leaned in to tickle under her arm like she used to when they were kids.

‘Stop!’ Elsie cried out, but her face lightened as she giggled.

‘Never!’ Sally responded, using both hands to tickle until Elsie begged for mercy. They lay back on the sofa, shoulder to shoulder, laughing together. And the earlier tension, whatever that was, disappeared.

‘Let’s treat ourselves today,’ Sally said. ‘We both work so hard and barely get to see each other. So how about a drink in the Grove, then a fish-and-chip supper from the Apollo Café afterwards?’

‘I’m broke. I can just about manage to buy two half-lagers. That’s it,’ Elsie said, her mouth downturned again.

Sally did the maths quickly. She had £1 from tips in the salon yesterday in her handbag. That would pay the 48p needed for two pints of lager and 42p for their chippy supper.

‘On me. I had a good day at the salon yesterday,’ Sally said. ‘Come on. Put some lippy on, and let’s go have some fun.’

Twenty minutes later, they were sitting in the corner near the jukebox, with a half pint of lager and lime each. Elton John belted out Crocodile Rock, and they sang along to the chorus along with most of the pub.

Elsie’s earlier tension disappeared, and Sally thumped the table in front of her, giving herself a drumroll.

‘I’ve got news,’ she said in a rush. ‘The results of my first exam. I’ve only gone and got a distinction!’

Elsie punched the air with a fisted hand and whooped out loud. A group of ladies sitting close to them looked over with interest, one of which was Hazel, her client from the salon. Sally was chuffed to notice that her hair was still perfectly groomed.

‘What are you celebrating, Sally?’ Hazel called over.

‘My best friend is going to be the next Vidal Sassoon! She’s got a distinction in her exams!’ Elsie boasted.