by Katie Flynn
Gran assured him he was wrong, and said she would whip up some Welsh cakes to go with the tea they were about to drink, but Snowy still shook his head. ‘Another time,’ he said. ‘I must be going home or my mother will wonder what’s kept me.’ He smiled at the two women and Tess accompanied him downstairs, returning almost at once to give Gran another hug.
‘You don’t know how marvellous it is to be home,’ she told the older woman. ‘Our kitchen is only small, but when there are only two of you in the family what do you need with a huge kitchen? And it’ll be nice to go to bed tonight with my own things around me: my books, my clothes, my raggedy doll and the pictures I cut out of old geographic magazines. And right next door I’ll have you, my very own gran.’
Her smile was so wide and delighted that any thought of revealing the secret of her friendship with Albert disappeared from Gran’s mind. Bide your time and the right moment will come, she told herself. Instead, she went over to the stove and prodded the potatoes; yes, they were cooked right through. She should start the chops now. But Tess was still chattering. ‘And it will be lovely to talk at mealtimes again,’ she said contentedly. ‘The Bells don’t, you know – talk at meals, I mean. I don’t believe they think it’s rude, they just want to finish as quickly as possible so they can get back to work.’ She twinkled at Gran. ‘But you and I can tell each other what we’ve been doing over the past three weeks,’ she said contentedly. ‘I’ve got masses and masses of news. Norfolk’s had really weird weather and life’s been truly hard for farmers.’
The story lost nothing in the telling, and long before the chops were cooked Gran knew all about the hail which was the size of tennis balls, the gale which had carried off the Morris’s hood and the twister which had wrecked a whole field of wheat. Naturally, she oohed and aahed in all the appropriate places, expressing her sympathy for the Bells and laughing heartily when Tess related the story of Crippen’s escape and recapture.
When Tess finished her tale with the invitation to stay on at the farm Gran felt a moment of panic, but it was short-lived. Tess assured her that though the hard work and long hours had not put her off the farming life, she was pretty sure it would never be for her. ‘I’m a city girl, even though I love animals and growing things,’ she assured Gran. ‘So you needn’t worry that when I’m older I’ll look round for a job on a farm. There are all sorts of careers I might take up, but right now I’ve got another year in school – maybe two if the government decides to make education compulsory for a further year – so it isn’t a decision I have to make in a hurry.’ She looked quizzically across the table at the older woman. ‘And now it’s your turn, Gran. You mentioned in your letters that you’d met Mr Payne at last. Did you get on? You didn’t say much apart from the fact that you’d been on the same trips a few times. Go on; I’ve told you everything that happened to me, now you can jolly well do the same.’
Tess listened to Gran’s story with interest and, it must be confessed, a little anxiety. She had been so happy to return to the flat, to Gran and to her old life, but now it looked as though that ‘old life’ was going to be rather different from her imaginings. Gran made no secret of the fact that she and Albert Payne had talked of going into partnership in order to start an ice cream parlour, or a soda fountain, as Albert apparently thought it should be called, quoting his daughter Janine, who worked in one in America.
‘Of course, such an enterprise would need capital – that means money to set it up – and neither Albert nor I can lay our hands on that sort of cash,’ she explained. ‘But banks will lend on security, and Albert owns his shop and the flat above it. So perhaps, if we can find the right premises—’
At this point Tess felt she must interrupt. ‘You and Mr Payne are daydreaming,’ she said accusingly. ‘Just like I do when I talk about getting my School Certificate, then my Higher, then going to university . . . You’ll never persuade a bank to lend you money for a daydream, any more than it would help me to take my School Certificate, let alone to sit for a scholarship.’
‘You aren’t daydreaming,’ Gran said. ‘And neither are Albert and I. Oh, we may not find premises and get a loan this year, mebbe not even next, but one of these fine days we’ll do it, you’ll see. And in the meantime we’ll both save up and go without, and—’
‘Gran, I don’t like to be selfish, but what about me?’ Tess said plaintively. ‘I don’t fancy saving up and going without for years and years just to get an ice cream parlour I don’t believe in! And if I’m not daydreaming, what about the scholarship? You’ve always said that if I did get into the grammar school you’d see me right, because scholarships don’t pay for everything, though they’re a big help.’
She was laying the table for supper, and Gran was mashing the potatoes. Tess plonked the salt cellar and the pepper pot down on the table, glancing across at Gran as she did so, and was immediately swamped by guilt, for the pink had drained from the older woman’s cheeks and she looked both unhappy and remorseful. Gran began to apologise, saying she had got carried away, that of course Tess’s education must come first and if she managed to get a scholarship she, Gran, would be the proudest person in the world and would cast all thoughts of ice cream parlours – or soda fountains – out of her mind and concentrate on seeing that Tess had everything a grammar school girl would need.
Tess had just sat down, but at these words she threw herself at Gran and gave her a hard hug, tears of shame filling her eyes. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m the biggest pig in the world, even bigger and piggier than Crippen,’ she said, her voice breaking. ‘Oh, Gran, you and Mr Payne must go ahead with your ice cream parlour and not give me a thought. After all, I don’t know that I want to go on to further education; after another year of being bossed about and shouted at I might well be glad to leave school and get a job. And if I was earning money I could do lots of nice things, including helping to set up the ice cream parlour . . . Wouldn’t you like that? I’d be a first-class waitress and you and I would be working together . . . Mr Payne too, perhaps . . . and earning lots and lots of lovely lolly!’
Gran laughed but shook her head. ‘Dear Tess, don’t you listen when I’m talking? Your education must come first. And now let’s eat our supper before it goes cold.’ She hesitated, then met Tess’s eyes squarely. ‘You – you do like Albert, don’t you? I know he was your friend before he and I had exchanged a word, but . . .’
‘Oh, Gran, of course I like him,’ Tess said quickly, feeling her own colour rise hotly to her cheeks. ‘But – oh dear, I suppose I must be honest; I do feel just the tiniest bit jealous. You see, at the farm there are the Bells, and Adam, and lots of cousins who come over from time to time, and – and me, who is no one in particular. But here . . .’ she gestured round her at the small, well-appointed kitchen, ‘here it’s just our family, which is you and me, and now we’re going to add Mr Payne . . .’
‘And Snowy White,’ Gran said quickly. ‘He’s a new friend of yours so far as I’m concerned. Or doesn’t he count?’
Tess began to giggle. ‘I’m not planning to start a business partnership with Snowy!’
‘Oh, go on with you,’ Gran said, laughing. ‘And now let’s take a leaf out of the Bells’ book and stop nattering and start eating!’
Despite the best of intentions Tess overslept the next morning, which meant she was in a rush to get into the kitchen before Gran left for work. Gran had apologised the previous evening for not taking Tess’s first whole day home off, but Saturday was Deering’s busiest day and Gran did not want to let them down. So when Tess entered the kitchen she had already spooned porridge into two dishes and was about to sit down at the table. She looked up and smiled as Tess burst in, then gestured to her marketing bag which she had stood ready by the door.
‘I’m sorry to send you out with a list of messages a mile long on your first day home, love,’ she said apologetically. ‘I meant to do some shopping in my break, but we were so busy yesterday that I only got ten minutes off. Still, you
can call for Lucy – or Snowy, for that matter – and I’ve put a bit extra in the housekeeping purse so you can treat yourself and your pal to a bun and lemonade once you’ve got everything on the list.’ Tess slid into her seat, saying, as she spooned golden syrup, that it would be a lovely change to go into proper shops again after three whole weeks of only visiting Mrs Bailey’s Post Office and Grocery.
Gran pulled her cup of tea towards her and took a sip. ‘Well, I’m glad you feel like that, because I’ve not got our rations this week which means you’ll have to visit Mrs Thomas,’ she said. ‘But you seem to be getting on better with Marilyn, from what you’ve told me, so there should be no difficulty there.’ She ducked her head, then looked at Tess from under her eyelashes. ‘I wonder if you might pop in and tell Albert – Mr Payne, you know – that you’re back. And – and ask him if he’d like to come over for supper this evening.’
Tess had been looking forward to renewing her friendship with various people in the shops Gran frequented and seeing friends from school who would also be doing their household messages, but now, strangely, she felt like a cat whose fur is stroked the wrong way, or like a child whose treat has been removed. It was odd, because she really did like Mr Payne; it was just that having him over for a meal on her first day home felt like an intrusion.
But Gran was looking at her, her eyebrows rising, and Tess broke into hasty speech. ‘What time shall I say?’
Gran, looking relieved, gave Tess a beaming smile. ‘Well, he closes his shop about six, so if he could be here for half past we can eat then, and you can tell him all about the Bells and the farm.’
‘Haven’t you done that already?’ Tess said, and could have kicked herself. Her tone had been too sharp.
But if Gran had noticed, she did not let it show. ‘No, queen, I’ve not said anything. Did you want me to? Albert and I don’t discuss other people’s business, and anyway you will tell it all much better than I should.’ She pushed her porridge plate away from her and got to her feet. ‘I hate to impose on you the moment you get home, love, but can you do the washing up and tidy stuff away? You can make yourself a meat paste sandwich at midday, but don’t worry about supper. I’ve the makings of a salad, some Spam and a couple of pounds of new potatoes, so if you wouldn’t mind scrubbing them I’ll put them on the stove at about quarter past six.’
‘Right. I’ll do that at lunchtime,’ Tess said briefly, having already decided that she would come back before six o’clock, do any small jobs that were needed and then go off out again, pretending that a friend had asked her for a meal. She still felt miffed and asked herself why she should share her supper with Mr Payne on her very first full day home, though she knew she was being unreasonable. However, she would have gone off without a word had Gran not stopped her in her tracks. ‘Hold on a minute, Tess,’ she said as the girl began to descend the stair ahead of her. ‘Why don’t you ask Snowy or Lucy if they’d like to come for supper? Then we might have a hand or two of cards when the meal’s over, a foursome being easier than a threesome.’
‘Well, I don’t know . . .’ Tess began uneasily. She felt that the wind had been taken out of her sails and suddenly suspected that Gran had guessed she meant to invent another invitation. She felt quite ashamed of herself, because it was a mean thing to do.
‘Of course, you can’t know whether your friends have already made other plans,’ Gran said when Tess did not finish her sentence. ‘But if you’d like to pop into the bakery at around twelve-thirty you can tell me what you’ve arranged. Mr Deering’s very good, so if either Snowy or Lucy will be coming for supper I’ll buy a couple of Cornish pasties – staff rates, you know – and you can scrub a few more potatoes and we can have quite a little party.’
By now they had reached the end of the stair and were standing on the pavement, and Gran slipped an arm through Tess’s and gave it a little shake. ‘Don’t worry yourself over me and Albert Payne,’ she said gently. ‘You and I are family, but even family have pals that they like to spend time with.’ She let go of Tess’s arm as a large man with startling ginger hair standing up in spikes all over his round head crossed the road and grinned at the two women.
‘Well, if it ain’t Mrs Williams! And this must be the granddaughter we’ve heard so much about.’ He held out a huge hand, the fingers like sausages. ‘How-de-do, young lady? I’m Jacob Jones, chief baker at Deering’s, and your gran’s me best worker.’ They shook hands and then Jacob Jones and Gran crossed the road and disappeared into the baker’s shop, Gran looking over her shoulder as she did so.
‘Cheeribye, Tess,’ she shouted. ‘Don’t forget the washing up!’
Tess stood where she was for a moment, staring at the closing door of the bakery. Should she return to the flat and do the washing up right away? But no, that would be a waste of energy, since she would be returning to the flat for her sandwich lunch. She had pushed the list of messages into her jacket pocket, but now she got it out and scrutinised it, giving a rueful little smile as she did so. Gran mustn’t have done any shopping at all during her three-week absence, she thought, because judging from the shopping list it seemed the pantry at home must be pretty well empty. It would certainly take Tess most of the morning, and since she had no idea where Snowy lived she had best call on Lucy and see if her friend was free, first to accompany Tess round the shops, and second to come to supper at the flat.
Accordingly, Tess hurried along to Mere Lane, only stopping once en route to buy a cabbage and some more potatoes from Mr Gaulton. But when she reached Lucy’s house a disappointment awaited her. No one answered her knock, but a woman in a wrap-around overall with her hair in curlers and her teeth obviously still reposing in a glass by her bed popped out of her front door and gave Tess a gummy grin. ‘Hello, ducks. Is you after young Lucy?’ she asked brightly. ‘’Cos if so you’re out of luck. Her dad’s ship come in a couple of days ago and he’s took the whole fambly off down to the coast for a seaside holiday. Seems Lucy’s mam has a brother what works on the fairground in Rhyl, so they moves into his caravan and the whole lot of ’em has two whole weeks of fun almost for free, they say.’
‘Oh! Well, that’s nice for Lucy and her brothers and sisters,’ Tess said vaguely. She knew that Lucy had brothers and sisters, all younger, but had never actually met them. ‘Do you know when they’ll be coming home? Only I’ve been away myself and only got back yesterday.’
The woman shrugged. ‘Work it out for yourself, queen,’ she advised. ‘They left this mornin’ so they’ll be back two weeks today . . .’
The screech of a whistling kettle split the air and the woman flapped a hand and turned back into her own house. ‘Sorry, ducks, that’s me kettle; I gorra turn it off or else . . .’ The rest of the sentence was lost behind the slammed front door.
Tess waited a moment but the woman did not reappear so she turned her footsteps in the direction of St Domingo Road, feeling suddenly lonely. Doing the messages with someone else was fun; you could chatter as you walked, go to St John’s Market and buy a bag of little red apples for sixpence; they could have sat down at one of the outdoor tables attached to Dorothy’s Tearooms in Church Street and had lemonade and a bun with the money Gran had given her whilst enjoying the sunshine, for it was a beautiful day. But alone none of this was possible; oh, you could do it all right, but you’d feel self-conscious lacking a friend to share it with. So it was rather glumly that Tess retraced her steps and headed for Mrs Thomas’s corner shop.
Despite the earliness of the hour there was the usual queue of hopeful housewives waiting to be served, but instead of Mrs Thomas behind the counter Tess recognised the woman known locally as Fat Betty. She was a cheerful soul who helped out at small shops when illness or holidays made her services necessary. Tess had seen her in the Thomases’ shop before, enjoying a gossip as much as the work, laughing raucously and cracking jokes, though it was well known that Betty would not handle money. That was left to her son Willie, who was slow but reliable, and cut out point
s and crossed out coupons with meticulous care. Tess knew that Mrs Thomas’s sister Freda would be somewhere on the premises, popping in now and then to see that all was as it should be, although she thought herself far too superior to actually work in a corner shop.
‘That Freda!’ Tess had heard Fat Betty comment, when the other woman was out of hearing. ‘I dunno why she thinks she’s so bleedin’ important, just because her hubby’s a steward on the Irish ferry. Still an’ all, she checks Willie’s sums and atwixt the pair of ’em they’re never so much as a ha’penny out.’
The queue began to edge forward and Tess was edging with them when she felt a hand clutch her arm. She turned, and saw it was Snowy. ‘So this is where you are. I suppose you thought it were the last place I’d look, knowing how you and Marilyn feel about each other,’ he said, scowling at her. ‘Well, I’m not waiting here among a lot of perishin’ women. I’ll meet you outside.’
‘Please yourself,’ Tess said indifferently, feeling cross. What right had Snowy to be annoyed to find her in the Thomases’ shop? Come to that, why should he expect her to be anywhere in particular? So she stayed in the queue and when at last she reached the counter she made no attempt to hurry fat Betty or Willie, but stood waiting patiently whilst the small amounts of butter, sugar, bacon and other rationed commodities were carefully weighed, wrapped and tenderly placed in her basket. Then she left the shop and looked around for Snowy, but despite his promise to wait she could see no sign of him. Shrugging, Tess turned her steps towards the next shop on her list, but no sooner had she set off than she saw Snowy leaning against the wall, clearly waiting for someone. As she reached his side he gave a pretended start – she thought it was pretended – and smiled down at her.