The Girl from the Corner Shop

by Alrene Hughes

  ‘I don’t mind, you choose. I’ll be happy just to be with you,’ and his lovely smile melted her heart.

  ‘We could go out for a walk if you like, it’s a lovely day.’

  Brookdale Park was all a good park should be. In early September the rose beds were still in full bloom, the grass was neatly clipped and trees dappled the pathways. There were men, some in their whites, playing bowls and beyond them there was a bandstand surrounded by deckchairs where a brass band was tuning up. They sat together, holding hands and swinging them in time to the music: a lively mixture of patriotic and modern songs with a few well-known hymns included. Every now and again she would look towards him, studying his handsome profile and broad shoulders. Once, he turned towards her and caught her staring. He laughed then and said, ‘What is it?’ But she just smiled to have him close to her on such a lovely day.

  Later they walked, hand in hand, on a secluded path under chestnut trees and down into a little ravine. She saw him look around, then he leaned against a tree and pulled her towards him. His kisses were slow and gentle, then he kissed her neck and the closeness of him sent her heart racing. She didn’t know how long they stayed there, but it wasn’t nearly enough.

  ‘Helen, my darling, shall we go back to your house now?’

  It wasn’t far to walk, but Helen knew she was about to take a huge step in her relationship with Laurence. His kisses and his touch made her hungry for more and she sensed he felt the same.

  The door closed behind them and Laurence held her close. ‘Darling Helen, I love you so much’ he said.

  ‘And I love you, Laurence.’ Then he kissed her with such passion that she longed for more.

  ‘Shall we go to your bedroom?’ he whispered.

  Yes, yes,’ her voice breathless.

  He swept her into his arms and carried her up the stairs, but as he was about to lay her on the bed, she stiffened as if in panic.

  ‘No, stop, please! I can’t do this.’ She struggled in his arms.

  He set her on her feet and she backed away from the bed. ‘It’s all right, Helen,’ but now she was weeping. ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked. She could only shake her head. ‘What is it, tell me?’

  ‘I… I can’t, I can’t. I’m so sorry.’ She ran out of the room and down the stairs.

  He found her in the parlour, sobbing. ‘Ssh, everything’s all right,’ and he took her in his arms again. ‘It’s my fault. It was too soon, we’ll take our time. We’ve found each other, that’s what matters. Don’t cry, my love.’

  ‘It was the bed, I couldn’t…’ she whispered. ‘It’s such a sad memory, I can’t explain.’

  *

  Helen arrived early for her shift on Monday morning. It was good to be back in uniform and she was glad to find a stack of filing waiting for her. She half expected to be called to Sergeant Duffy’s office to be questioned further, but no one sent for her. Then towards the end of the day, she was told by her superior to report to the chief constable’s office. She’d only ever seen him once, getting into a police car. What could he want with her? Was she in trouble for not following orders to stay in the club? Would she be chastised for putting herself in danger? Maybe she wouldn’t be allowed to walk the beat any more. She knocked, the door opened and there was Sergeant Duffy. ‘Come in, Harrison.’

  She marched into his office and stood to attention, eyes forward. ‘Well now, WAPC Harrison, you’ve had quite an eventful few weeks, haven’t you?’ said the chief constable.

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Sergeant Duffy has brought me up to date with Saturday night’s events – quite a story, I must say. I’ve brought you here to thank you formally for your commitment to this force. I can honestly say I have never come across a female officer who has proved herself so convincingly in such a short space of time. I commend you too for your bravery and your judgement. If you hadn’t taken the initiative to go with Carter, we would never have apprehended him.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’

  ‘He’s been up before the magistrate this morning and he’s been remanded to Strangeways. It’ll be all over the papers tomorrow, and bear in mind that the Manchester Guardian covers the whole country. Thanks to you we’ve put Manchester policing on the map.’ He stood for a moment, smiling. ‘Now, I’ve been talking to Sergeant Duffy here, and I’m of a mind to offer you the rank of Woman Police Constable. What would you say to that?’

  She was speechless. She had occasionally wondered what it would be like to be a WPC and she wasn’t quite sure she wanted it. A glance at Sergeant Duffy, but there was no reading her face. ‘I don’t know, sir,’ she said. ‘Could I have some time to think about it?’

  ‘Hmm, well I suppose so. Let Sergeant Duffy know tomorrow.’ He shook her hand. ‘Well done, Harrison, you’re a credit to the Manchester police.’

  She was walking back to the office when Sergeant Duffy caught up with her. ‘He’s right, you know, you are a credit to us. That’s why I recommended you. When I think back to all you’ve done, I’m so proud of you.’

  ‘Thank you, Sarge, but deciding whether or not to become a WPC is complicated for me.’

  ‘Let’s go to my office and talk about it.’

  *

  With her hands round a good brew, Helen explained. ‘I like being a WAPC, not so much the office work, but being out on the beat and maybe I’d get more of that as a WPC, but I want other things too.’

  ‘Sure, I can understand that, you’re a young woman and there’ll come a time when you might marry again and have a family.’

  ‘I’d like to have children, but if I was to take promotion I’d worry that I’d be…’ she hesitated, trying to find the right words, ‘consumed by it and not want to stop.’

  Sergeant Duffy nodded. ‘You know I understand that, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Can I ask whether Dr Fitzpatrick figures in these thoughts?’

  Helen gave her a wry smile. ‘I think he might do.’

  ‘Helen, I really want you as one of my WPCs, you know that, don’t you? But I’ll understand if you decide for now that you want to stay as you are. Why don’t you sleep on it, eh?’

  ‘I will. Thanks, Sarge.’

  *

  When she arrived home that evening, there was a letter waiting for her and she recognised Pearl’s handwriting at once. She would have been in touch with her before now, if it hadn’t been for the Calico Club job. She ripped open the envelope and scanned the contents. She could hardly believe it; Pearl was living with Mam at the shop. How on earth did that happen? It was still light and it wasn’t raining, so she set off, hoping nothing untoward had happened to either of them.

  The shop bell rang as she came inside. The first thing she noticed was the smell of fresh paint, closely followed by a whole new layout in the shop. Pearl came through the chenille curtain and at the sight of Helen she let out a scream and ran to hug her. ‘You’re here, that’s great!’ and she went to the door and turned the sign to ‘Closed’.

  ‘What’s going on?’ asked Helen.

  ‘Come into the back room and I’ll tell you all about it.’

  Pearl recounted her story: the circumstances of Fenner’s death; the bankruptcy and closure of the business; the loss of her home. She wept a little, then wiped her eyes.

  Helen was shocked. ‘I can’t believe Mr Fenner died. Oh, Pearl, I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be. The man’s dead and I lived with him for so long, but the way it ended was cruel. I was out on my ear: no home, no job, and I lost friends I’d worked with for years. I went to your house when I had nowhere to go, but your neighbour told me you were working nights. So, what could I do? It was either Elsie or sleeping on the street. When I got here, I couldn’t believe the state of the house and shop and since then I’ve been doing a bit every day trying to make it shipshape. Anyroad, I told her I would stay – she certainly needs me and to be honest I need her.’

  ‘I take it she’s upstairs.’

&nbs
p; ‘Yes, she has a lie down before her tea.’

  ‘But what’s wrong with her?’

  ‘The doctor said it was her nerves and he gave her a tonic. But if you ask me, she just hadn’t the will to go on. She couldn’t rouse herself to do anything.’

  Helen was quiet for a moment. ‘Do you think it’s my fault, leaving her?’

  Pearl shook her head. ‘You had to go, you were buried alive in this shop. Elsie would have carried on telling you what to do for the rest of your life, but now, you are your own woman.’

  ‘So, what’s going to happen?’

  ‘She wants me to stay, can you believe it? I told her we’d get this shop back on its feet and I’ll do it, Helen, you know I will.’

  There was the sound of movement above them followed by a shout. ‘Who are you talking to?’

  Helen felt a nervous flutter in her stomach at the sound of her mother’s voice, but she swallowed hard and called up the stairs, ‘It’s me, Mam.’

  Elsie was slow coming down and at first sight, Helen could see her mother had lost weight and her face was gaunt and pasty.

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I’ve come to see you. How are you?’

  It was a moment before she answered. ‘I told you before I wasn’t well.’

  ‘I know, but I’m here now, and it’s good that Pearl’s staying with you. She was telling me you’re going to do up the shop together.’

  ‘Ha! I’ll believe it when I see it. This flighty piece,’ and she waved a hand in the direction of Pearl, ‘will be off chasing another man before we know it.’

  Pearl gave as good as she got. ‘I might just do that if you don’t buck up your ideas, you miserable bugger. You’ll stay for your tea, Helen? It’s only tinned sprats, peas and potatoes, I’m afraid.’

  Around the table, Pearl talked about her plans for the shop and the conversation moved on to Helen in the police.

  ‘I hope you don’t have to deal with criminals, like those black marketeers.’

  ‘No, Mam, I’m just a clerk,’ she smiled.

  Helen left in time to walk home before the blackout and, on the way, she thought about her mother. She didn’t welcome her with open arms, but when she was leaving she called out, ‘Will you come again?’

  And she answered, ‘Of course I will, Mam, I’ll see you soon.’

  By the time she arrived home she had made another decision. She didn’t want to be a fully fledged policewoman and she didn’t think she would volunteer for any other undercover operation. In time, she might even be happy with clerking duties. And then there was Laurence…

  She made herself something to eat then sat by the fire knitting the cardigan she had started several months before. There was a knock on the door. She opened it and there was Gwen and Frank, hand in hand. She was delighted to see them together. ‘Come in, come in, it’s lovely to see you,’ and they went through to the kitchen.

  ‘We have news,’ said Gwen, wreathed in smiles.

  ‘I thought you might have.’

  She held up her hand and there was a lovely engagement ring with three little stones.

  ‘I’m so pleased for you,’ said Helen, and the way Frank looked at Gwen warmed her heart. ‘I’m so happy for you both. When’s the big day?’

  ‘Next Saturday, four o’clock at the register office off Deansgate and you’re invited, if you can make it.’

  ‘I’ll be there, don’t you worry. Would it be all right if I brought someone with me?’

  ‘Oh, who is it?’

  Helen blushed. ‘Someone I met through work.’

  ‘A policeman?’

  ‘No, he’s a doctor.’

  ‘Ooh,’ said Gwen, ‘I can’t wait to meet him.’

  Helen glanced at Frank. He was smiling at Gwen.

  *

  Helen cried at the wedding. Gwen looked radiant and Frank was so handsome in his uniform. It brought it all back to her – the bittersweet memory of her own wedding day. Afterwards, the dozen guests walked from the register office over to Quay Street to the Old Grapes for a drink. Laurence went to the bar while she went to hang up her coat.

  ‘Hello, Helen, let me help you with that.’ It was Frank. ‘I wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for me and Gwen. When Jim died, I thought I was taking care of you, but most of the time it was you looking after me. I still can’t believe the way I treated Gwen but I promise you I’m going to make it up to her, especially when the baby comes.’

  ‘I know you will, you’ll be a wonderful dad.’

  Then Laurence was at her side and Frank shook his hand. ‘I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot, that night when you brought Helen home. I was out of order. Anyroad, no hard feelings, I hope.’

  ‘Not at all, everything worked out all right for all of us.’

  ‘I know you’ll look after her.’

  ‘I will,’ said Laurence and he put his arm around her shoulder.

  It was late when they left the pub, and as they walked to the car Helen said, ‘Laurence, instead of you doing a round trip to take me home, why don’t I just go home with you?’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘All right, I don’t mind sleeping on the sofa.’

  In his cosy flat, Laurence put on a gramophone record then poured them a nightcap. ‘Single malt from the Highlands. Sip it slowly,’ he said. He was leaning back on the sofa, his eyes closed, and she watched his handsome face. He had never mentioned the episode with the bed again, but he was so loving with his gentle kisses and chaste caresses. In the meantime, she had grown more and more in love with him. She leant over and kissed his cheek. He smiled and opened his eyes, then took her in his arms.

  ‘Do you want to go to bed now?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, Laurence.’

  ‘All right, I’ll just get a pillow and a blanket from the bedroom. Won’t be a minute.’

  She watched him go, then followed him. He turned around, the blanket in his arms. She took it from him, laid it aside and hugged him.

  He gave her a quizzical look. ‘What is it?’

  She kissed him, he kissed her back. Her heart raced: here at last was the passion she had longed for.

  ‘Helen, my darling, do you want to…?’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ and her breath quickened. ‘Please…’ They lay on the bed and Laurence kissed her again.

  ‘I love you, Laurence,’ she whispered.

  ‘And I love you, my darling.’ His hands, his lips, his body on hers…

  In the early morning, they lay in each other’s arms and talked about their future. ‘You know I want to marry you,’ he said.

  ‘Yes, Laurence, but I remember you saying that, because of your job, you didn’t want to get married until the war was over, and I’m happy to wait.’

  ‘But that was long before I fell in love with you.’

  ‘I would be happy just to live with you, she said.’ But there was disappointment in his face.

  ‘Would you really want that?’ he asked.

  She looked away. How could she explain it without hurting him? He turned her face towards him and wiped the tears from her cheeks.

  ‘Helen, in the cold light of day, are you still sure you love me?’

  ‘Yes, with all my heart.’

  ‘Then tell me why you’re crying.’

  She paused to gather her thoughts, so much would depend on what she had to say. ‘Jim died just before Christmas,’ she began, ‘and on New Year’s Day I moved into my house alone. It was so hard at first, without him, but over the months I came to terms with his death. I never imagined I would fall in love again.’ She stroked his cheek. ‘And now I have you and I love you more than words can say, but...’

  ‘But what?’

  ‘It might seem strange, because I do want to be your wife, but I think it’s fitting not to marry until the anniversary of Jim’s death has passed. Would that be all right?’

  Laurence smiled and wiped away the fresh tears. ‘O
h, Helen, I understand you would want to do that. I should have realised.’ He kissed her tenderly. ‘Shall we get married on New Year’s Day at the register office? In the meantime, if you want to come here at the weekend, we could be together. What do you think?’

  ‘I think that would be wonderful.’

  Chapter 40

  Helen sat at her dressing table and fastened the pearl-drop necklace around her neck. She was glad of some quiet time with her thoughts and memories. The morning had been busy with Mam and Pearl arriving early to help her get ready. She had been pleased to see Mam looking so well and there was hardly any bickering between the two of them.

  Mam had made breakfast for them and, after that, Pearl took charge with the same meticulous preparation as when she organised shows at Fenner’s Fashions. First, she styled Helen’s hair, smoothing out her blonde curls to frame her face, then applied her make-up so skilfully that she could have been a model on the cover of Vogue. Finally, she had helped her into her wedding outfit, a powder-blue costume with a pencil skirt and a jacket with a peplum. Helen knew it suited her so well because the assistant, her good friend Anna now working in Kendal Milne, helped her choose it.

  She leaned towards the mirror. It was her face in front of her, but something in the way she held her head and the look in her eyes told her that she had come a long way from the corner shop. Mam had kept her close all the time she was growing up and, just when she thought she would escape with Jim to raise a family of her own, fate had other plans for her. Grief and despair had walked beside her this past year, but determination had been there too. She was naive, but she learned from every lesson, and once she joined the police, she found a way to make life worth living.

  She went to the window and looked down over the park, recalling the day when she and Jim stood on this very spot and decided it would be their new home. Now, she was leaving it for good and tears pricked her eyes. Jim would have loved it here.

  She was glad that Gwen and Frank were to take over the tenancy. He would make it a lovely house for his family. She would leave them the furniture – her eyes flitted to the bed – all of it. Laurence’s cosy flat was all she wanted.