The Silver Ladies Do Lunch

THE SILVER LADIES DO LUNCH JUDY LEIGH For my brother Tony… Middleton Ferris, Oxfordshire, present day CONTENTS Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Acknowledgments More from Judy Leigh About the Author About Boldwood Books 1 ‘Who do you think our new teacher will be?’ Josephine Potter fiddled nervously with her long plaits as she stood by the railings of the red brick primary school, beyond the separate entrances marked ‘Girls’ and ‘Boys’. ‘Not Terrible Thomas again?’ ‘He caned me on my hands last year…’ Linda Norton cringed at the memory. ‘He said my handwriting was like a spider. But my nib broke – the inkwell was full of soggy blotting paper and it splashed everywhere. It really hurt and I couldn’t write at all for a whole day. I didn’t dare tell Mum, though.’ It was 1959, the beginning of the autumn term. Josephine and Linda huddled in front of the painted wooden sign for Middleton Ferris County Primary School in Oxfordshire. They were wearing grey pinafore dresses, ankle socks, squeaky new shoes. As they linked arms, ten years old, best friends forever, they dreamed of wonderful things, although the dreams weren’t fully formed yet. ‘It’s our last year – we can’t have old Thomas again…’ Lindy’s small face was puckered. ‘I hate his guts – he caned Sally Corbyn because she didn’t know the seven times table, and she wears callipers.’ ‘He’s horrible.’ Josie shuddered. ‘I always feel sick on Mondays. I hate Sing-a-long-a-Monday with that posh woman on the radio with the warbling voice.’ ‘It’s even worse when Terrible Thomas cracks the cane and shouts, “Sing, you buggers, or I’ll make you sing.”’ Lindy sniffed, swishing her glossy ponytail. ‘His face goes all red.’ Josie said, ‘He’s the worst teacher in the school. He’s so bossy.’ ‘He made me dance with Jimmy Baker in country dancing. Jimmy Baker stinks.’ Lindy pinched her nose to show how bad the smell was. ‘Jimmy is a sweaty stink bomb,’ Josie agreed. ‘Old Thomas made me dance with George Ledbury and he smells just like the pigs on his dad’s farm. Fergal Toomey says he sleeps with the pigs, but I don’t believe him.’ ‘I wish I could dance with a nice boy when we do country dancing…’ Lindy said dreamily. ‘Who do you think’s the handsomest boy in the class?’ Josie asked, grasping her friend’s hand. ‘Neil Timms – he’s gorgeous, he has come-to-bed eyes.’ Lindy sighed, blushing. ‘I don’t know what come-to-bed eyes are, but his eyes are really nice… he has curly eyelashes…’ ‘It’s certainly not Dickie Edwards.’ A slim girl with long unruly hair joined them, her face bright with mischief. ‘I knocked his front tooth out in the rec when he tried to bully our Tina. It hasn’t improved his ugly face one bit.’ ‘I wish I was as brave as you, Minnie,’ Josie said, linking her arm through Minnie Moore’s. ‘Or as clever.’ Lindy linked the other arm. ‘You’ll go off to the grammar next year and leave us behind at the secondary modern.’ ‘My dad says I can’t go.’ Minnie spat on the ground and rubbed it into the tarmac with her plimsoll. ‘He says it’s a waste of money for a girl.’ She shrugged. ‘I don’t care. I’ll go anyway.’ ‘Even Terrible Thomas said you’re exceptionally bright.’ Josie said. ‘I am. But I’m not singing “Shenandoah” again, whether old Thomas is our teacher or not.’ Minnie frowned. ‘He can cane me all he likes. And I’m going to tell him to stop caning Kenny Hooper and making him cry. It’s not fair.’ ‘Ugh, Kenny…’ Lindy pulled a face. ‘He’s weird.’ ‘He’s not weird, he just sees things differently,’ Minnie said, picking at the threads on her second-hand pinafore dress. ‘One day, people will say he’s a genius.’ She sighed. ‘I hope they have some new books on the library shelf. I read all the Famous Five books three times last year. Can’t they get some Greek myths or some Shakespeare?’ An infants’ teacher came out into the playground, a woman in a long skirt, her hair in a roll, to clang a hand bell loudly. ‘We’d better go in,’ Josie murmured. ‘Then we’ll find out who our teacher is…’ ‘I hope it’s someone who can teach,’ Minnie grumbled. ‘Someone who won’t keep making us bloody sing – or dance with silly boys. I tell everyone Fergal Toomey’s my country dancing partner because he doesn’t come to school half the time and I get to sit out and read.’ ‘I hope we get someone who can keep Dickie Edwards under control…’ Lindy cringed at the thought. ‘He scares me a bit, to be honest.’ ‘He doesn’t scare me. We stick together.’ Minnie pulled a face. ‘That’s how it’s going to be. I don’t care about old Thomas and Dickie Edwards and smelly Jimmy Baker. We’ll make this the best year yet.’ The three friends walked through the door marked ‘Girls’. They crossed the hall that always stank of stewed cabbage, sweet pink custard and sweaty plimsolls. It smelled different today, a sharp whiff of too much polish and disinfectant. They made their way towards the classroom, taking their seats one behind the other. Most children were already there. Minnie went to sit at the front. She twisted round and winked as Lindy and Josie took the desks behind. Kenny Hooper sat down with a thump, looking around nervously. Dickie Edwards flopped behind him and flicked Kenny’s ears, causing him to yelp. Then they heard the clack of heels, and a new teacher walked into the room. The