Molly's Journey

by Sheila Newberry

  He stepped aside, inviting Nancy’s mother to enter the house. ‘Good to meet you at last, Mrs Atkins. Just close the door after you, Nancy, when you leave. I’ll be round to see you this evening, if you like?’

  ‘Yes, please,’ she said. When he had gone, she asked her mother: ‘Would you like to sit down?’

  Mrs Atkins shook her head. ‘I mustn’t be long. He’ll want to know why, if I am. I was in the store and Mrs Mac told me she’d heard you was back from the Pastor’s wife. I thought you wouldn’t want to come to me so—’

  ‘You came to me. I’m glad.’ Nancy finished. They stood facing each other, but not touching.

  ‘I knew you got married, of course, but I didn’t know till today you had lost your husband. Is that why you’re back here? I never thought I’d see you again.’

  ‘I never thought I’d ever be back either. Leonard died getting on for three years ago, Ma. I married him because he was kind and good, a real gentleman. He treated me as if I was someone special. I loved him, and respected him for that. He was as much a father as a husband to me, being older. I’m not sure if he guessed I was in love with Art before we were wed. My feelings were all mixed up then. Art went right out of my life: it was a long time before I discovered that he was actually living and working here!’

  ‘The school teacher?’ her mother asked.

  ‘Yes. I can’t quite believe it but he still wants me, still feels the same way, like I do. We only met again yesterday but we’re not going to waste any more time. We’ll get married as soon as we can. This little place will be my home, Ma. You’ll be welcome to visit us whenever you like. I don’t want to stir things up between you and Dad; you have to live with him. Fortunately I don’t, not ever again. I’m free of all that, don’t even feel bitter about it now. There’s no need for that. I’ve got my heart’s desire, and that’s enough.’

  She moved nearer, gently touched the mark on her mother’s face. ‘If only you were free, too . . . ’ Then she held her close for a long minute, comforting her as if their role were reversed and she was the mother. ‘Be happy for us, Ma.’

  ‘Oh, Nancy, I am happy for you. Look, I got to go—’

  ‘You know where I am now, at the mission house.’

  *

  In the weeks that followed, Molly saw Henning only once; he was working, of course. On that occasion they met up by chance at the store. Almond soon became bored as they stood chatting by the oil drums, and the next thing Molly knew, she had climbed up on to the counter via some boxes and was sitting there, legs swinging over the edge, entertaining the customers with her chatter. The assistant hastily moved the heavy scales out of reach.

  ‘Oh, dear,’ Molly exclaimed, ‘I’d better take her away, I suppose, before she does some damage. When are we going to meet up properly, Henning?’

  ‘How about this Sunday – shall we go for a ride?’ he asked. ‘If Nancy and Art are willing to take the child off your hands . . . ’

  She felt a slight unease. He obviously thinks my daughter is a handful, and she is, but we come as a pair most of the time; Matthew accepted that, and Rory, though that was different, because he is her father. ‘That would be nice,’ she said.

  ‘You’d better grab her,’ he said. ‘She’s disappeared over the other side of the counter and the assistant is signalling rather frantically to you!’

  *

  ‘Funny trousers, Mummy,’ Almond giggled when Molly paraded in the old jodhpurs in their bedroom first thing that Sunday.

  ‘I can understand now why Alexa thought they weren’t for the well-endowed,’ Molly remarked ruefully. ‘They’re definitely straining across my rear.’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ Nancy reproved her. ‘I’m sure you don’t weigh any more than you did when I first saw you.’

  ‘I’ve got curves in places I didn’t have then. I daren’t do my daily limbering up here, which might even ‘em out, it would upset Elfie – she’s so house proud.’

  ‘Maybe, but she’s had a lot to put up with, Molly Sparkes, what with you and Almond, you know!’

  ‘Both she and Ernst have been so patient with us,’ Molly agreed. ‘Still, I shall make tracks back to Melbourne soon after your wedding next weekend, then hope to book an earlier passage home. I do worry about Alexa – I know she’ll be thrilled to bits about you and Art, but she’ll no doubt be glad to see the two of us return! Also, I don’t want to outstay our welcome here.’

  ‘You haven’t heard from Rory yet.’

  ‘No. That’s strange, because he promised to write, but I suppose he and Sarah have been busy with their own wedding plans.’ Molly tried to sound casual, but she couldn’t keep secrets from Nancy.

  ‘Don’t forget your hat, Molly. It may be only the start of spring, but the sun can beat down when you’re out in the open. And don’t go too far—’

  ‘Promise I won’t. In every sense, dear Nancy. Stop worrying about me!’

  ‘Someone has to damp you down occasionally, Molly.’

  ‘Talking of which – save your efforts for controlling my lively daughter in Chapel during the morning service! I wouldn’t like her to embarrass Elfie!’

  *

  ‘We mustn’t go too far this time, Molly – what are you laughing at?’ Henning asked, puzzled. ‘I am concerned you have not sat in the saddle since you and I were last together.’

  ‘Not quite true,’ she teased him. ‘I tried to ride bareback on one of the circus ponies but I soon slithered off.’

  ‘The circus?’

  ‘Ah, it’s a long story. I won’t tell you today. Maybe I won’t tell you at all. It doesn’t concern you and me, you see.’

  She wasn’t riding old Rusty, the pony had been pensioned off, but another placid plodder, so it wasn’t likely they’d cover a great distance anyway. Certainly not to the mysterious place she now and then still dreamed about. She always woke at the point where she and Toby splashed in the dawn-cold water. Henny hadn’t even kissed her then, just held her hand for a while in the dark, unfathomable night.

  Mid-morning they dismounted under some trees by a water hole.

  ‘Lunchtime, I think,’ Molly said cheerfully, opening the canvas bag. ‘What’s in the sandwiches, I wonder – cheese or meat?’

  ‘You haven’t changed, Molly. Shall I boil a billy?’

  ‘Mmm. Tea! You’re wrong, Henny, I have changed, in many ways.’

  ‘You’re not making, for certain, moon-eyes do you say? at me. I miss that,’ he teased her.

  ‘Oh, isn’t it nice to feel, well, comfortable with each other – over all that?’ she asked. ‘I’m glad we met so unexpectedly again because I suppose I might have continued thinking, if only I had received your letter, that first one, we would be together—’

  ‘No, Molly. It wouldn’t have lasted.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Because I know myself. I often thought of you, yes, regretted what might have been. Still, I did not remain celibate all this time. Yes, I found you desirable then, which was dangerous for you were young and innocent. It would have been easy for me to play on your infatuation. Let me be honest, those feelings could be revived . . . ’ He gave her a pretend cuff round the ear. ‘None of that. I told you before, it cannot be the same, however much you try, when you go back.’

  ‘Prove it. Kiss me,’ she challenged.

  He smiled. ‘You trust me for that?’

  ‘I trust you. And, more important, I trust myself,’ she said.

  It was a brief kiss, warm and friendly.

  ‘There,’ Molly told him. ‘Now I’m sure. Watch out, the billy’s boiling over!’

  I still have that little carved horse, she thought, to remind me of past passion, damped down now like the camp fire.

  SEVEN

  ‘I’ve got something for you,’ Elfie told Nancy when they were on their own in the kitchen, preparing the meal. Art was amusing Almond out in the yard, showing her how to steer an orange box on wheels. Ernst was still talking to parishio
ners in the chapel porch; the others had come on ahead. ‘When you said you weren’t buying anything new for the wedding—’

  ‘Well, we will be marrying on a shoestring, Elfie. Art’s savings are long gone. I’ve got some money, praise be, which will help us out while he is studying which could be years, couldn’t it? So it seems sensible not to spend unnecessarily. At least I brought all my decent clothes with me from England. I suppose I’d already made up my mind that I wouldn’t be going back.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I didn’t make this gift for you myself,’ Elfie said wryly. She was well aware that homespun efforts were not always appreciated. ‘I also sent an order to the Universal Providers – I thought of it when you ordered the mattress. Alexa once surprised me with a very pretty hat from the catalogue, I’ve still got it, in fact. I always thought it was that hat which turned Ernst’s head.’ She actually sounded arch. ‘The package came yesterday. It’s on top of my wardrobe. We’ve got ten minutes before we have to lay the table, so come with me and see what you think.’

  Remembering the hat Alexa had bought her on that other wedding day, Nancy thought: Oh, please, let it be a garment I would have chosen myself, even though that’s unlikely because Elfie obviously has no idea what young people like to wear. I could never hurt her feelings, of course . . .

  ‘Don’t try it on now, just tell me if you approve.’ Elfie sounded anxious as she laid the box on her bed and lifted the lid. ‘Molly told me your size, in confidence. It’s what they call Japanese crêpe. Nice for now, cool enough to wear through the summer. Do you like the checks? Latest London fashion, they say, but I’m not sure I believe all that.’

  Nancy lifted the two pieces of the costume from the folds of tissue paper. The shadowy grey check on rose pink was very pretty. The bodice and hem of the gored skirt were cut on the bias. The outfit was elegant, looked good. It would suit her slender figure, accentuate her waist. Nancy absently counted the pearly buttons on the jacket. ‘It’s exactly right, Elfie, but it must have cost the earth.’

  ‘A guinea well spent,’ she said, pink-cheeked and pleased. ‘You deserve it, Nancy. I didn’t take the money out of the housekeeping, or the money Frank left me – that’s our insurance for the future. My father gave me a little bag of sovereigns on my twenty-first birthday, a long time ago, and I thought it was about time I dipped into it. Now, put this all away before Art comes to find us and catches sight of it, which wouldn’t do!’

  ‘Elfie—’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Thank you! I’m sure that Art will appreciate it as much as me. And, Elfie, won’t you wear your special hat, the one you wore when Ernst fell for you – to our wedding?’

  *

  The chapel was fragrant with bright flowers arranged simply in jam jars on the windowsills. Beams of sunlight danced on the uneven whitewashed walls. Elfie and her loyal band of helpers had polished the furnishings and flooring to a special shine with beeswax, despite the scratches and scuffs of regular use.

  Nancy and Art knelt at the altar rails. She carefully arranged her skirt for she didn’t want to crease it or to catch the hem with her heels. She wore a chip hat, bought at the stores for a few shillings, but trimmed by herself with pink silk roses and ribbon to match the costume, which looked as if it had been tailor-made for her.

  Art wore his only suit, the same one he’d had back in the days when they were walking out together in London, which Elfie had insisted on sponging and pressing, despite his mild protests that he was quite capable of doing this for himself – his mum had expected him to, he said with a grin.

  Elfie wore her hat as Nancy had requested. As it was such a special occasion, she had pinned her hair-piece into place also. This had taken her some time as she had not touched it since her marriage. She silently dared anyone to comment.

  Molly sported her best blue linen, complemented by Matthew’s earrings of course, and Almond wore a new gingham dress, in blue and white, with a wide satin sash. She looked angelic, but Molly was keeping her fingers crossed and fruit-drops, thoughtfully donated by Mrs Mac, in her handbag.

  It would have been perfect if Art’s family could have been with them, and Alexa had been sitting next to Molly in the front pew, Nancy thought. But she was really happy when, as she entered the church on Art’s arm for the simple wedding ceremony, she caught a glimpse of her mother sitting on her own, right at the back. She might be unable to stay for the whole of the service, Nancy rightly guessed, but she indicated to her mother, with a smile, the lace handkerchief just showing in her pocket. She had taken it from an envelope addressed simply ‘To Nancy’, pushed through the mission letterbox sometime during yesterday evening. No message, but Nancy knew who it was from. Then she saw the sea of expectant faces as the children from the school turned to watch their progress. The harmonium, pumped with vigour, welcomed them with cheerful music that almost invited them to dance, and certainly quickened their step, and Almond’s cheek bulged as she sucked blissfully on her boiled sweet.

  *

  They were on their own at last, in the schoolhouse. Nancy put her wedding posy in water, and gave a little sigh. Art took off his jacket and hung it on the back of a chair. The table was still littered with books.

  ‘Elfie did us proud with the meal,’ he observed. ‘We won’t want anything else tonight. Anyway, I don’t want you busy in the kitchen on our wedding night. Come and sit down on the sofa.’

  ‘Silly things you think of,’ Nancy said, sinking down gratefully into the cushions. The sofa was second-hand, but very comfortable. The plaid shawl that covered the back displayed the sofa’s origin: they had bought it from Mrs Mac. ‘When we were enjoying those cold cuts and Elfie’s best pickle, I suddenly had a yearning for meat pud.’

  ‘Steaming under a turban in the old pudding shop, eh?’

  ‘Yes. And you with a glass of beer and froth round your lips, and—’

  ‘Ah, you were aware of my lips, were you?’ he teased. ‘Well, it was root ginger beer today, but I was so busy looking at you that it tasted like champagne.’ He cuddled her close. ‘I was so proud to be marrying you today, Nancy, especially as I never believed this day would come. Have I ever told you how much I love you?’

  ‘You didn’t have to: I knew.’ She yawned this time.

  ‘You’re tired, you must be. It’s a much more hectic day for a bride than a groom.’ He looked at her so tenderly. For a moment she was reminded of Leonard and the way he had regarded her; it was hard to banish such thoughts from her head.

  ‘I must say, I’m looking forward to trying out that lovely feather bed – oh!’ she ended, when she realised what she had said, and was grateful that he didn’t laugh at her confusion. She thought, I won’t try to delay that moment as I did before. Art and I have wasted enough time when we might have been together.

  ‘Shall we retire then?’ he asked. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tidy up the books, by the way. I certainly didn’t intend to do any studying today.’

  ‘I’ve been thinking about that, Art. Would you mind if I – well, began learning alongside you? I might not be up to it, of course, but I’d like to try to see if, one day, I could teach here, too – pass on some of the knowledge I’ve been so grateful for myself.’

  He didn’t answer at first, just looked at her, bemused.

  ‘Of course, if you don’t want me to, I’ll understand,’ she floundered.

  ‘Of course I want you to! It’s a wonderful idea. I’m just sorry I didn’t think of it myself! Is tomorrow soon enough to start?’ he joked.

  ‘Let’s go to bed,’ she said softly.

  *

  They certainly didn’t rise early the following morning. ‘We ought to be getting ready for chapel,’ Nancy said drowsily at last, making no move to disengage herself from his arms. The new bed took up most of the small room: they had thrown back the covers because it was so warm, and bright light flooded through the slats in the blinds, which they had forgotten to close.

  ‘I don’t imagine they�
�ll send out a search party.’ he murmured. ‘Don’t go; don’t spoil it.’ His lips gently brushed her bare skin; her fingers tangled in his hair as he lowered his head.

  ‘How can I?’ she whispered after a while. ‘Oh, Art, I love you so much.’

  ‘You don’t need to say it either – just show me.’

  *

  ‘Someone called after all.’ Art opened the front door and discovered a huge bunch of flowers wrapped in newspaper on the step. There was a muffled burst of laughter, as he stood there, clad in his dressing gown at midday, but he did not catch sight of anyone. There was a note: TO THE BRIDE & GROOM. ‘It’s from my class,’ he said, pleased.

  ‘Oh . . . ’ Nancy said, in the kitchen. At least they didn’t get a glimpse of me, she thought, in my nightie, frying this great panful of bacon and eggs. ‘I don’t even know if you like your egg served on top of the fried bread,’ she told him wryly.

  ‘Everything you do for me is perfection,’ he teased her, catching hold of her waist from behind.

  ‘Oh!’ she exclaimed again. Then: ‘Art! D’you want me to drop the lot?’

  ‘Let’s have breakfast in bed,’ he said.

  ‘Suppose – suppose we get more callers—’

  ‘We’ll pretend we don’t hear ‘em. Want some toast?’

  ‘That’ll take time. Bread and butter will do,’ she said demurely.

  *

  They forgot about lunch, but at around nine in the evening Nancy moved the books on to the windowsill and spread a pretty new cloth, one of their wedding gifts, on the table in the living room. They pulled the curtains across; Art lit a fat candle to illuminate the plates of bread and cheese, and they toasted their first day of married life with tea poured into rose-patterned bone-china cups, gold-rimmed, which in future would be kept in the cabinet for special occasions only. Another unexpected present from Elfie and Ernst; Art was obviously held in high regard by them both.

  ‘I wish Alexa could see us now,’ she said dreamily, adding more hot water to the teapot. She had changed into the oyster silk dinner dress, the first wearing for her, but Molly had insisted. ‘Just the dress for an intimate dinner for two . . . ’ Not at all the dress, she thought now, for such a simple meal, but intimate, none the less. She was rosily aware that Art could hardly take his eyes off her.