Standing in the Shadows by Peter Robinson

Author:Peter Robinson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2023-01-30T00:00:00+00:00

8

5 December 2019

“How exciting,” said Winsome as Banks drove down Blackpool prom past the Central Pier, the South Pier and the Pleasure Beach, closed for the season, on their left. “I get to go to the seaside twice in two weeks.”

“I hope you didn’t bother to bring your bucket and spade,” said Banks.

“Spoilsport.”

“It’s December.”

“Gerry and I found a great little fish and chip in Blackpool on our way back last week, not far from here.”

“We’ll see what we can do later. Pity the Illuminations have finished.”

“I’ve never seen Blackpool Illuminations.”

“You’ve missed a real treat,” said Banks.

“Why do I think you’re being sarcastic?”

Banks glanced at her and grinned. “Because I am. They used to be quite the thing, though, in Blackpool’s heyday. Along with the entertainment on the piers, the Tower Ballroom and rides like the Big Dipper and the Ghost Train at the Pleasure Beach. Every summer half the north of England went to Blackpool for their summer holidays, except for Fair Fortnight, in July, when it was full of Glaswegians. It was booming with families on holiday back then, and the Illuminations extended the season.”

“Did you ever go?”

“Once,” said Banks. “Mostly we went to Skegness or Great Yarmouth, but one year we ventured further afield. I was about twelve, just at that age when I wanted to go off exploring by myself rather than trudging around with my parents. Hang out in coffee bars. Maybe even meet a girl.”

“A girl? At twelve?”

“Why not?”

“You must have been a fast developer. Go on.”

“Not much to say. It was all right. It rained quite a lot, but you expect that on holiday. We went up the Tower, of course, and one night we saw a show on one of the piers. I remember Joe Brown, the Tornados, Johnny Kidd & the Pirates, but that’s about all. I do remember I wanted to go and hear Gene Vincent and the Animals and a bunch of other bands on one of the other piers, but my parents weren’t having it. And I had a fine time wandering the Golden Mile, or checking out the joke shops on the pier, buying itching powder, Dracula teeth and whoopee cushions.”

“What on earth are they?”

“You don’t know what a whoopee cushion is?”

“No.”

“Well, I’ll try and put it as delicately as I can. It’s a small cushion that you can hide under a real one, and when someone sits on it, it makes a farting sound. Great for shocking grandparents and maiden aunts, not that I had any of the latter.”

Winsome laughed. “I don’t believe it!”

“It’s true.”

“And now? Blackpool?”

“Well, I’m sure you know as well as I do that Blackpool’s one of the most depressed towns in the country. And a hotbed of crime. Drugs, prostitution, you name it. No more Morecambe and Wise, Billy Fury and Tommy Cooper at the Central Pier.”

“Sad. Whoever they are.”

“Were. Blame the package holidays and cheap trips to Lanzarote, Benidorm and so on. People don’t take their holidays in Britain any more.”

“Do you think the weather might have something to do with it?”

“Now you’re being sarcastic.

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