had been some time before she answered Fiona's question, by saying, "She's Daisy. She would say, she's her own self. And by, Mam, she is! Well, you've seen some of them in the town, brogues, football
stockings, and pink hair, and everything startling in between. "
"Oh, she's one of those? And she fences?"
"Oh yes. Yes. There's a lot like her down there. Well, not up to Daisy's standard of colour; it's part of the vogue now to be outrageous. But there's one thing I've learned about her, that her tongue is much sharper than any foil; it's more like a rapier edge."
"How do you mean?" Fiona had asked, and Katie had answered, "I just can't explain. You'd have to meet her, Mam. And I doubt if you ever will, because she's very level-headed and she's quite aware of where she would fit in and where she wouldn't. If anybody knows their place, it's Daisy, and she would put you or anyone else, Mam, in their place if you tried to move her out of it. She's a character, and there's only one person I know who could get through to her, and that's the assistant fencing master. I've told you about him, Jimmy. Well, he'll be here tonight," she had ended, 'and you'll see him. And Jimmy's got a theory all his own. But I suppose, at bottom, he's quite right when he says, a person can pass himself in any company so long as he remains himself. He's the only one she seems to take any notice of.
But, you know something? Dad would understand her. Oh, yes; I think Dad would understand her. "
"Oh, she's a female Sammy then?"
"Oh no, Mam. She could knock Sammy ... well, the Sammy that was, into a cocked hat."
"She uses language?" Fiona's face had stretched somewhat, and Katie said,
"Well, I haven't heard her go in for the four-letter kind with which our Mr.
Love greeted you, but she can damn, bugger and bloody like the best of them."
"Katie!"
"Oh, Mam!" Katie had turned her head slightly to the side before she added,
"You live a closeted life. You always have, you know. You've been lucky and' - her voice dropped " I've been lucky, too. I said this to Willie the first time we went to the Centre. I said to him, "You know, we've been lucky to be brought up as we have." None of us, Mam, in this house knows how the other half lives. Even dad doesn't now; he's moved so far up the scale. I bet there's not one of his workmen live like some of them do down at Bog's End. I've had my eyes opened during these past months and have been made to think a lot about why people do things and are as they are. You know what I think, Mam. It's the kind of environment we live in that makes us. In the long run it makes us what we are. Take Daisy for instance. If she had been brought up under you, she would now be having university in mind, for she's as bright as a button. "
"Well, why isn't she still at school? Even now they can stay on."
"Not with a family like hers. I think there's about ten of them. And as far as I can gather the father hasn't been in work for the last five years. And of the five brothers at home, there's only one at work. I would love to meet them, you know. I really would. And the family next door, they are two
7i
maiden ladies who enjoy rescuing the family from the father who gets drunk, mortal ious she calls it, and runs around wielding and threatening them with a poker. "
'0 . Oh! " The syllable expressed shock, and Fiona was shocked at that time to realise that she was finding out another side to this Fickleworth Leisure Centre, or at least to the people who frequented it. And the latent snobbery born of her mother and buried for years raised its head for a moment as she said, " Aren't there any nice people go to the Centre? "
"They're all nice, Mam. At least the ones I've met, including Daisy.
They're all nice. "
"Katie! Do you know you are shouting at me?"
"Oh, Mam, I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
When, after a moment of quick thinking, Fiona said, "And so am I, dear, so am I; that sounded like utter snobbery. And when I come to think of
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