A Family Affair by Janet Tanner Read Free Book Online

drink. A real drink, not cordial! I daren’t yet or I might trip over in the parade and make a complete fool of myself.’
    â€˜There you are!’ Heather said. ‘They’re coming out now!’
    A small group had emerged from the manager’s office, which was being used as the committee room – three men immaculate in dinner jackets and black ‘dicky-bow’ties and two women in long floaty chiffon, their hair set rigidly into elaborate coifs. Heather recognised Harry Hall, their MP and a local boy – Harry had been the Miners’Agent in Hillsbridge before he had been elected to parliament. Tonight he was to be one of the judges, and they had heard that Margaret, his wife, had been asked to be a judge too, but had declined. Set hairdos and floaty chiffon dresses weren’t Margaret’s thing, and she was uncomfortable with being in the limelight, although, as the wife of the sitting member, there were times when it was unavoidable.
    Basil Thatcher, owner of the Palais de Danse, who was acting as MC, went up on to the stage, took the microphone and called for the village representatives to come forward.
    Julia stood rooted to the spot, and Heather gave her a little push.
    â€˜Go on! This is what you’ve been waiting for! If you don’t look out you’ll miss it!’
    â€˜Oh – I can’t! I can’t! All those people.’
    â€˜Go on!’
    Julia went, nervously, joining the other girls who, in the interests of a fair contest, would not be identified until after the selection. That was a farce, really, of course – even without their sashes it was obvious to everyone which village they came from by the cheers of their supporters.
    The minute the spotlight fell on her, Julia’s nervousness seemed to disappear. In Heather’s opinion there was no contest – Julia outshone the others by a mile. But she knew anything could happen, and her heart began to pound as it had when it was she herself up there parading before the judges.
    As the girls lined up to loud cheers and whistles, Heather edged her way to the front of the crowd.
    â€˜Hello, gorgeous, trying to get in on the act?’ one man quipped.
    Heather ignored him. She had recognised him as a miner from Purldown – Brian Jacobs – and knew his reputation as something of a troublemaker. He was one of those who squatted on the pavement outside Starvault Colliery waiting for the coach to take him to the pithead baths and when he was on the morning shift he always seemed to be there when Heather was going back to the glove factory after her dinner break, catcalling, whistling and making suggestive remarks as she passed. Tonight he was with a gang of others who had come along to support Miss Purldown – and ogle the other girls.
    â€˜Oh – too snooty to speak to us!’ he said now. ‘Not good enough for you, are we, darling?’
    His voice was slurred – he had obviously had too much to drink already, and it was still early.
    Heather refused to so much as glance in his direction. She kept her eyes fixed firmly on Julia, willing her to do well.
    One by one the girls paraded across the floor in front of the judges, twirled, sashayed back again, teetering on their high heels.
    The Purldown group sent up a loud cheer as their representative made her walk, hoping, no doubt, to sway the judges, but Heather thought she didn’t stand a chance. Compared to Julia she was downright plain.
    The girls retired to the side of the hall, marshalled by Basil Thatcher. The judges put their heads together, conferring, then asked them to do it all again. It must be a close run thing, Heather thought, her heart in her mouth.
    Basil Thatcher had the microphone in his hand again. He was clearly enjoying himself.
    â€˜Ladies and gentlemen, the judges will now retire to consider their decision. Whilst they do so, would you please take your partners for a waltz.’
    The band