About a week later, Beth met up with John again. It was a warm, Friday afternoon. The sun was shining down and burning one's feet as they touched the ground.
The two shook hands.
"You know, Lizzy, it's my payday. I say we go have some fun, eh?" John asked.
"And what would we do?" she asked.
"We could go to the pub. It's right down this street," he suggested.
"Oh no, my mother always said that those places are filthy." Beth said with a hint of disgust.
"Well, if they are filthy, then people wouldn't go there, would they?" he laughed.
John didn't have a lot of money, and in 1939, going to a pub every single night wasn't a popular decision for young people trying to save it. One of his mates, however, owned a cheap, relatively affordable pub. John could go there on his payday to 'reward' himself. A lot of young people in general without much money went there because it was still a form of entertainment and time occupation.
As Beth stepped into the pub, she couldn't help but feel like she had been transported to a completely different era. The dimly lit room, filled with the aroma of ale and the sound of lively chatter, was a stark contrast to the polished and pristine environments she was accustomed to. Her eyes widened as she took in the worn wooden tables and the faded paintings on the walls.
Beth's upbringing in a protected bubble became visible as she looked around, her expression a full of curiosity and unease. She clutched her handbag tightly, feeling a bit out of place amidst the casual attire and relaxed demeanor of the guests. She couldn't help but notice the slight griminess of the floor and the worn-out upholstery on the par stools, causing her to scrunch up her nose in disapproval.
"Oh, and Lizzy, you better watch out. This place is very dangerous, people get robbed here almost every day," he exaggerated with a sarcastic tone, hoping to make a joke.
Her eyes widened even more, and she just whispered, not getting the joke, "Then why on earth would you bring me here, John?"
He then quickly put his arm around her and whispered back, "I'm just mostly kidding. I'm messing with ya."
John, with a cheeky grin on his face, approached the waiter, an old mate of his from Liverpool. He said hello to him and ordered a drink.
"Right, Lizzy," John began, leaning against the bar, "this here is Alfred, or Alf, our top-notch barman. He's a regular around here and knows all the ins and outs of this pub."
Alf, giving a nod and a friendly smile, chimed in, "Very nice to meet ya. Elisabeth I suppose, eh?"
She nodded while looking very shy, and trying to stay close to John because he was the only 'safe person' in the room.
"First time in a proper pub, innit?" Alf asked John. He just nodded and confirmed. "Well, you're in for a real treat, dear. I'll tell ya what, first round is on the house." Alf said, John got happy and couldn't refuse, and Beth was just confused.
A bloke then approached them, seeming friendly and talking in a heavy slang, "Oh, you're in for a proper treat, love. There's always a good jolly mix of characters around here, from cheeky robbers to spirited alcoholics and even a few friendly homeless people. It's all part of the charm, you see."
Beth, feeling a bit perplexed by the guy's sarcastic tone, looked over to John for some clarification. John, ever the helpful person, stepped in and said, "Don't mind George's banter, Lizzy. He's just pulling your leg. That boffin over there is George Wilton, a good mate of mine. But he's got a knack for adding a bit of rubbish to any conversation."
YOU ARE READING
We'll meet again Evelyn Rosewood
Historical FictionIt's April of 1939. Elisabeth Miller, the spoiled and naive daughter of a wealthy navy captain doesn't want to get married to a man he chooses. And she is ready to do anything to avoid it. The comfort of just making her parents disappointed was good...
