penny rush,’ Fizz had said, rather dismally; he loved his weekly visit to the picture house, knew the names of all the film stars and intended, he told Dot, to be a cowboy when he grew up.
‘But cowboys have to be terrible handsome and – and they all have kinda dangerous faces,’ Dot had observed. She had not wanted to insult her friend but his round, rosy, rather flat face, his snub nose and his spiky, straw-coloured hair were unlikely to change greatly, she thought, in the years to come. ‘Besides, you can’t ride a horse or whirl one of them ropy things and catch a cow or – or use a six-shooter, even.’
Fizz had turned on her a look which had mingled contempt and pity. ‘They teaches you to ride a horse and shoot straight, an’ stuff like that,’ he had said loftily. ‘Don’t you know nothin’, Dot McCann?’
Dot, realising that she had offended her pal, had said meekly that she was sorry for doubting him and had hastily changed the subject, but now, as they walked towards the Central underground station she was unable to prevent herself from giving a little skip of excitement. ‘Since we’re going over the water, we might as well go a bit further and take ourselves off to New Brighton for the rest of the day,’ she suggested hopefully. ‘I know you hate missin’ the Sat’day rush, but do you know what film’s showing? It’s Little Miss Deputy , what’s all about a cow girl , not a cowboy, starring that Texas Guinan, the one you thought was such a twerp.’
Fizz’s darkening brow lightened considerably. ‘Oh, it’s her , is it?’ he said cheerfully. ‘To my mind, there ain’t no such thing as a cowgirl – girls can be cows, an’ I know several of them who are, but a woman dressed up in a Stetson and chaps, and jangly boots, is going agin nature, if you ask me.’
It would have been fun to disagree, to tell Fizz that Texas rode, shot and lassoed better than any man, but Dot realised that she had best hold her tongue, especially if she wanted to go to New Brighton and to have a share in Fizz’s ninepence. So, instead, she talked about school, Aunt Myrtle’s latest fight with Uncle Rupert and the fact that Fizz’s sister, Laura, had just got a job at the dairy on Heyworth Street. This passed the time pleasantly until they dived down the steps of the underground station and found themselves immediately caught up in a large crowd, many of whom seemed to be in a holiday mood. Dot guessed that because it was bright and sunny she was not the only one who had thought of the delights of New Brighton; why, some of these people might be going over for a weekend at the seaside, staying in one of the many boarding houses which offered cheap accommodation to families eager to escape from hot and grimy Liverpool streets.
A train came roaring into the station and the crowd surged forward, even though they must know that they would be unable to board the train until those passengers waiting to alight had done so. She was shouting into Fizz’s ear that she doubted if they would be able to get this particular train when the doors opened and people began to descend. Others immediately pressed forward and Dot and Fizz got separated, though by the time the train drew out they were right at the front of the crowd and pretty sure of catching the next one.
Dot guessed that Fizz’s laundry basket had come in useful to barge people aside, but also thought that it might impede his getting on the train. She signalled to him over the intervening heads that she would try to join him and was inching towards him on the very edge of the platform when she heard the roar and felt the tidal wave of hot air as the engine of the next train emerged from the tunnel. Prudently, she moved back from the edge, and even as she did so felt a sharp push between her shoulder blades and staggered forward again. Had it not been for the man standing beside her, she might well have fallen on to the line, but he shot out an arm and