Between Friends by Audrey Howard

kiss’ dropped a few, noses erupted with blood and it was only a question of time before the ‘scuffers’ arrived.
    Meg was pushed further and further back from the centre of the crowd as excited women elbowed her aside to get a better view. Her temper showed in her heightened colour and the blaze of the golden light in her eyes. She was furious! She’d never forgive Martin, never! What on earth had got into him picking a fight with that chap and him only asking for an innocent bit of a dance with hundreds watching! It didn’t take much to ignite Martin’s temper, true, but the chap had done nothing and would you look at Tom, usually so mild and inoffensive, happy-go-lucky even and the last man on earth to pick a fight, throwing punches like he was ‘Gentleman’ Jim Corbett himself!
    She turned away and stamped her foot in frustration, almost in tears. This had promised to be such a lovely day, unexpected and therefore the more exciting and now those two great daft lumps had spoiled it for her! Martin had hinted at a surprise at Mr Hale’s though what it could be in the smelly old bicycle shop she could not imagine. This small diversion, before it had erupted into the rumpus it had become, had been lovely, dancing in the sunshine amidst the good fellowship of the holiday crowd and now it was ruined. They’d probably end up in gaol, the pair of them and she’d have to go home and report to Mrs Whitley that two of her servants had been arrested for brawling in the streets!
    A hand clutched her arm and she spun about, ready to give what for to whoever it was had the temerity to interfere with her, so short was her temper but a lively voice told her to ‘Look sharp, Meggie, before they miss us.’ and Martin’s laughing brown eyes and glowing face were there and she was pulled along at such speed she was in danger of falling.
    ‘Tom,’ she gasped.
    ‘I’m here,’ a voice cried from her other side and Tom’s hand gripped her left arm and as she began to laugh, her feet scarce touching the ground as they bore her along, they laughed with her.
    From behind the noise of the fighting multitude died away, pierced by the sharp shrillness of police whistles. The culprits continued to run, Meg clinging to her boater and the length of her skirt which threatened to trip her up until they turned into St John’s Lane.
    ‘Oh for God’s sake stop!’ she beseeched. ‘I’ve a stitch in my side that’s cutting through me and I’ll lose my hat in a minute. Let me go, the pair of you!’
    They all three slowed down and shrugging her arms from their grasp Meg adjusted her straw boater and pushed back the crop of curls which had become loosened in the mad flight, tucking them carelessly under her hat. Her face had become stern though her eyes could not rid themselves of the laughter. She felt she should be cross with them both for hadn’t they spoiled her lovely dance but they leaned against the wall, blowing on their grazed knuckles and grinned at her and she could not stop her mouth from forming into a wide smile. Martin had a cut lip and as his grin deepened he winced, putting his hand to it ruefully. Tom’s eye looked suspiciously swollen and there was no doubt he would have a ‘shiner’ which he would have to explain to Mrs Whitley in the morning but who cared, his expression said. He had acquitted himself well beside the more skilful fists of his friend and he was pleased with himself. He was enjoying this day, this moment and with Tom’s outlook on life that was all that mattered!
    ‘Will you look at the two of you! Cook’ll skin you when she sees the state of your good jackets!’
    ‘No she won’t, Meggie. I shall tell her she’s lovely and give her a kiss and she’ll forgive us like she always does.’ Tom’s engaging smile was perfectly confident for he knew what he said was true.
    ‘Don’t you be too sure me old cock sparrer.’ Martin fingered the tear in the sleeve of his jacket. ‘This cost Mr