VI — Scarborough

The coach reversed slowly into Scarborough's main car park. The seaside town was crammed with tourists on this glorious July day.

"Now listen carefully," demanded Earnest Blackstock, the Club Secretary. "We all have to be back for 5 o'clock and no later, or you'll be left behind. Does everyone understand? And remember, no getting drunk either. Do I make myself clear?"

He did make himself "clear" to the few who had bothered to stay behind, as most of the passengers had already set off towards the main promenade.

"Ronnie, promise me you won't get too drunk, will you? It would spoil the day for me, and I want to enjoy it. It's not often we get a chance to get away. Please," pleaded Mary.

"Don't worry, my love," Ronnie fired back. "We'll have a great time. Let's go on the dodgems first and have a bit of fun in there."

Mary knew her exhortation had fallen upon deaf ears. Ronnie was buzzing and bristling with joy, oblivious to any chastisement to his pleasure.

However, for the first part of the day, Mary, Ronnie, and Thomas had a wonderful time: they played on the penny machines and would regularly fall into spirited laughter when one of them won a few pennies; each flung off their shoes when on the beach and, like children, waded in the gently lapping wavelets; and they tucked into large helpings of fish and chips—Scarborough style, of course.

Meanwhile, in another part of town, a little, bald-headed bookseller was trying to explain to two persistent ladies the meanings of two words. He lisped incredulously, "Are you sure that's what she said: 'copulating mamba'?"

The largest lady, displaying an unnaturally red face, replied, "Yes, they are definitely the words she said: 'copulating mamba.' Now, tell us what they mean."

With extreme decorum, the words were explained to the eagerly listening ladies by the uncomfortable bookseller. The two women then staggered out of the shop.

As the afternoon wore on, Ronnie, Thomas, and Mary bumped into a small bunch of men from Scardale who were off to the pub for a pint.

"You wanted to have a game of bingo earlier, Mary love, and you know I don't care for it; so why don't you have a game, and I'll have a couple of pints with the lads from the pit?"

All the pit lads listened for Mary's reaction and answer. Mary's first reaction was to say "No," but she felt a sort of intense pressure from that laddish lot, and, against her will, she reluctantly agreed.

"What the hell; he'll only throw a strop, and I can't do with him whinging," she thought.

"Are you sure you don't mind, Mary?" Thomas asked to one side.

"Yes, Thomas, thanks. I like a game of bingo, and I'll be fine. Keep an eye on Ronnie, though, and make sure he doesn't get too drunk as the bus leaves in a few hours."

"I'll do my best, Mary. See you later."

Thomas, Ronnie, and the pit lads headed with gusto to the nearest pub, whilst Mary turned around and headed in the direction of Scarborough's biggest bingo hall: The Bingo Bam-Bam.

On the way there, Mary literally bumped into Daisy Doodeck, waddling the other way with a cream doughnut in her face.

"Hiya, Mary. Where are you going?"

"I'm off for a game of bingo, as Ronnie's gone down the pub with a few mates. Do you want to come along and we'll share?"

"Yeah, lead on, girl!" was Daisy's enthusiastic response.

And off they went arm in arm: Daisy Doodeck with her 20-stone-something covered in the fantastically coloured dress—which had shamefully failed to conceal much above her knees—and Mary Hardaker with a beehive haircut to die for.