Off To See The Wild West Show Part 2 Chapter 4 (3/5) By Frank Beill

(1/5), (2/5), (3/5), (4/5), (5/5). Part 1 Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20. Part 2 Prologue, Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4.

'Don't I know you?' I took a closer look at George's wife. 'Course you do, Sammy!' Sal interrupted. 'My best friend - Annie Phelps, as was!' The years had been kinder to Annie than Sal. The thin mousy brown hair and large teeth were the same as they were all those years ago. I hoped for George's sake she still possessed her easygoing disposition. 'I think I'll tek the afternoon off work!' My oldest friend stood back, to take a long look at me.

'I think you won't!' Annie's hands were thrust onto her hips. 'Jobs are 'ard come by. Took you long enough to get this one.' 'She's right, our George,' Sal said. 'I'll still be around when you've finished work. Don't worry.' I was in no hurry to run away this time. * *

There was work to be done in the city centre (I've got it right this time). A visit to the offices of the local newspapers, the Hull Daily Mail and the Hull News to arrange for advertisements and to deliver a letter - written by Major Burke himself - to the editor of each publication. The Major loved the personal touch: 'make people think you care.' Visits had to be made to all suitable stores located in prominent places to persuade them to accept window posters - in exchange for complimentary tickets to the show, of course. Holders' Piano Warehouse in Whitefriargate was an important call on my itinerary.

The Major asked me to pay a courtesy visit because they were selling advance tickets to the show - the expensive ones. He said a visit from a real Red Indian might inspire them to fill more seats. Really he only wanted me to find out how sales were going. Sal came with me after Annie volunteered to take care of little Martha.

'Not been in town for ages.' She looked out the window of our tram rattling along Hessle Road. 'No reason to go. You can't even afford to go window-shoppin' ... not unless you think one day things are gonna get better.' In the city centre she behaved like a total stranger to everything. Her eyes were near to popping out. She stared into shop windows and at the people in the street dressed in their Sunday best, as she described their clothes. I felt guilty bringing her out in her threadbare dress and torn shawl among all these people. I saw her gazing longingly at the dresses in the window of a ladies' outfitters in Prospect Street.

The grey stone face of the city's main hospital, the Hull Royal Infirmary reflected back at us in the window glass. The dresses on display were ones I anticipated seeing again soon but they would be in the most expensive seats in the show. Sal's eyes moistened and her face became sad. Window-shopping was an expensive business for someone with nothing.

Continued... Next Page (4/5)

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