"I See The Moon"

A thin spring cold settles over Mawney Road, the kind that creeps into the folds of your coat if you stand still too long. The sky has cleared after a brief shower, leaving the pavements dark and shining. The moon hangs pale above the rooftops, not yet bright as the early evening begins to gather.

Esther checks her appearance in the changing room mirror. Her face looks a little flushed after her shift in the laundry room so she dusts on a little Max Factor from her compact. Her hair is lightly frizzed around the nape of her neck but she doesn’t want to risk combing out her curls. She quickly refreshes the Revlon Certainly Red on her lips, then slips on her swing coat and slings her handbag over her forearm.

Out in the corridor, she waits until exactly 5:15 on the mechanical clock, before punching her timecard with a loud clunk. She then exits by the staff door at the back of the Public Baths, buttoning her coat against the sudden chill.

Bobby waits outside, leaning against the brick wall, with both hands shoved deep in his pockets. He keeps a respectful distance from the door, well away from the beady eyes of her supervisor.

“You’re early,” Esther says.

“You’re late,” Bobby replies, though he’s smiling.

She smirks. “I finished bang on time.”

“Then I’m early,” he shrugs.

They fall into step, heading south towards the town centre. The air smells faintly of wet brick and coal smoke.

Esther glances up. “Moon’s out early today.”

“Yeah,” Bobby says. “Clear sky for once.”

At the junction, they cross St Edwards Way and head for the High Street, where the shops are closing but their window displays still glow. They carry on to the Market Place, skirting round the stalls that are packing away. The smell of the day’s produce still lingers: bruised apples, damp cabbage leaves and the faint sweetness of oranges. The church tower stands dark against the sky.

“Quiet tonight,” Bobby says.

“It’s always quiet this time of day.”

They linger outside Stones Department Store, which is showing New Season Arrivals: tweedy cardigans in pastel shades, crisp cotton New Look dresses and Dior influenced matching ensembles. A long tailored jacket with a cinched waist in lavender Worsted is draped over the shoulders of a headless mannequin.

Esther stops. “That’s nice.”

Bobby studies the coat. “Would suit you.”

“It’s too dear.”

“Still would though.”

She smiles, faintly. “Maybe one day.”

They move on, circling back to South Street. Boots’ window shows Gala of London cold cream, Vaseline hair tonic and a poster for Vicks medicated cough syrup. Burtons has a charcoal grey, double breasted flannel suit on a heroically posed dummy, the price tag tucked discreetly under its wide lapel.

“You’d look smart in that,” Esther says.

Bobby snorts. “Not on my wages.”

“Maybe one day,” she echoes.

Further down the road, they reach Radio Rentals. The shop is closed, but one television glows in the window: a small, boxy set showing flickering footage of the Queen’s Commonwealth tour. A few people stand watching, their breath fogging the glass.

Bobby and Esther join them for a moment.

“Picture’s better than last week,” Bobby says.

“Still fuzzy.”

“Better than nothing.”

Esther nods. “We’ll never have one.”

“Not yet.”

They walk on. The lights are still on in the jeweller’s window and the security grille not pulled down yet. They look at the modest arrangements of rings and watches on velvet trays.

Esther pauses at a simple gold locket. “That’s pretty.”

Bobby looks at it and thrust his hands even deeper in his pockets. “Yeah.”

“Too much money.”

“Yeah.”

They stand there a moment, with the cold settling around them and the moon brightening above the rooftops.

Esther says, “You don’t have to walk me every night.”

“I know.”

“You’ll get fed up.”

“I won’t.”

She looks at him, trying to read his expression. “You sure?”

Bobby shrugs, but it’s a careful gesture that conveys more than he says. “I like walking.”

Esther smiles and lets him off the hook. “All right.”

They soon reach the place where their ways part; his toward the converted flats in Junction Road, hers toward the terraced houses in Western Road. The streetlamps begin to glow softly. A bus rumbles along South Street, its passengers showing as silhouettes in its fogged-up windows.

Esther stops outside her door. “Thanks for walking with me.”

“Any time.”

The moon hangs above them, shining brighter now.

Bobby says, quietly, “See you tomorrow?”

Esther nods. “Yeah.”

She opens the front door and a snatch of song drifts out: Please let the light that shines on me, shine on the one I love.

Bobby watches her go, his breath beginning to show in the cooling air. After the door closes, he continues to his own home, with the tune from the wireless lingering in his mind: simple, hopeful and a bit childish. He doesn’t hum it, but just looks up at the moon, as if it might tell him something he’s not ready to say aloud.