The Guv'nor by Lenny McLean Page B

a knockout.
    She was a tiny little thing, about 17, blonde hair, beautiful face, and a tiny bum that would’ve fitted into one of my hands. I can even remember what she was wearing and I bet not many blokes could say that about their wife looking back nearly 30 years. She had a beige suit on, red shoes and a red handbag.
    Me and Sid both eyed this little dream up and down, and I said, ‘You know what they say about girls who wear red shoes.’
    He said, ‘You mean red hats, don’t you?’
    I straightened my tie and said, ‘Oh, bollocks, who cares? I’m going to give her a pull anyway.’
    When the girlfriend she was with went out to the ladies’ room, I slipped over and gave her a bit of the McLean charm. I said, ‘What’s your name, darling?’ and she said, ‘Valerie, and yours is Lenny McLean.’ I was well chuffed that she knew me but I didn’t let on, just gave her my film star look and said, ‘Why don’t you park yourmate up and let me take you up West?’ She gave me one of those looks that birds like to put on and told me, ‘I couldn’t do that, I couldn’t leave her on her own and, anyway, I might be seeing my boyfriend in here later on.’ I sussed she was giving me a story. I could see by the look in her eyes that she was more interested than she was letting on, so I just gave a shrug, dead casual, and said, ‘Well, I’ll be in here next Saturday, meet me then if you change your mind and I’ll buy you a drink.’
    I couldn’t believe how I acted all the next week. I was like a lovesick kid, mooning about and counting the days until Saturday. There was no guarantee that she’d show, but it couldn’t hurt to consider the possibilities.
    Come Saturday, I was suited and booted and in the Standard at opening time. I never took my eyes off the door for the next hour. Then it opened and in she came, on her own, and even better looking than I’d remembered from a week ago. Her first words after we said hello were, ‘Are you going to behave yourself if I go out with you?’ I pretended to be shocked. ‘Don’t worry, babe,’ I said, ‘I’ll keep my hands in my pockets all night.’
    She giggled at that. ‘No, I don’t mean that, but I’ve been hearing all about you. Everybody says you’re always fighting.’
    â€˜Me, fighting, never. Just you tell me who said that and I’ll belt them.’ She giggled again and I knew I’d cracked it.
    I took her to the Royal in Tottenham, and we had a great time. She said she’d like me to take her out again and after I left her that night I went home clicking my heels together, well pleased. I told Mum all about this beautiful girl I’d met and I must have gone over the top a bit because she laughed and said, ‘You’re in love, son.’
    â€˜Don’t be daft,’ I said, ‘that stuff ain’t for me.’ She just stood looking at me with a little smile on her face. Then we both burst out laughing. She was dead right. She’d spotted what I hadn’t really thought about, but now that I did, I had to admit, yes, I was in love and it was a nice feeling.
    I said, ‘Mum, don’t say nothing to Jim. You know him, he’ll try and dig me out and I’ll have to unload him.’
    â€˜I won’t, son. But one night, when he’s not around, bring Valerie home for tea, I’d like to meet her.’
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    Val and me went everywhere together, pictures, clubs and pubs, and day trips to Margate or Southend. I took her home to Mum and they got on like a house on fire, and, naturally, then Val’s parentswant to meet the fella who’s taking up all their daughter’s time. I suppose it must have been about two months after I met her that she said, ‘My Dad suggested that as we are going to be very late home Saturday night, it would be all right if you stopped