Onwards Flows the River

by Caroline Windsor

  “So, who do you go with? Or is there a group of you?”

  Hannah sighed. “There are three chaps who live fairly close to the poly. I’ve been going with them. But they all look about fifteen, they’ve got more spots than a leopard and when they’re not arguing about politics, they’re playing snooker or darts!”

  “So, they don’t spend all their time flirting madly to gain your undivided attention? Which is presumably what you were hoping for.”

  “They don’t think of me as a woman at all. I’m just a sort of honorary bloke.” Hannah curled her lip in disgust.

  “So, you just sit there, drinking endless pints, until the pub closes?”

  Hannah nodded.

  “I hope they see you back to Harrison House. They don’t leave you to struggle back on public transport, do they?”

  “One of them’s got a car. I imagine that’s how I’ve been getting back.”

  She saw the horror on Kate’s face. “You mean you don’t remember?”

  She shook her head.

  “Hannah, that’s appalling! I mean, they could have raped you or something and you’d never have known.”

  “I’m safe enough with that lot.” Despite herself Hannah grinned. “They’d only rape me if they thought I was a Tory!”

  Kate stared at her in silence.

  “It was meant to be a joke.”

  “Well, excuse me for not laughing. I just can’t understand how you could possibly have been so stupid.”

  Hannah shifted uncomfortably. “I’m a student – students are meant to let their hair down now and then.”

  Kate gave her a withering look. “So, being a student gives you carte blanche to behave just as badly as you like, does it?”

  “No, of course not... but I do think you might at least try to see things from my point of view.”

  “Believe me, Hannah, I’m trying.” Exasperated, Kate rose and walked across to the window. Arms folded, she leaned against the sill. “I can understand why you’re disappointed – but don’t you think you’re overdramatising the situation? I mean, you’re living in London, which is what you wanted – and you’re doing a degree, which is what you wanted. The fundamentals are still there, even if some of the frilly bits are missing.”

  “Some of them? For goodness’ sake, Kate. I’m living in a hostel with a God-awful deputy warden who can’t stand the sight of me, rather than a flat where I could do my own thing without being nagged to death all the time... and I’ve got to spend three years at some crappy college with the most boring bunch of no-hopers I’ve ever had the misfortune to come across. There’s not a frill in sight!”

  “Have you any idea how appallingly selfish you sound?” Kate’s eyes were blazing. “There are thousands of people who would give their eye teeth to be in your position. Take Jo for a start...”

  “Can’t you leave that cow out of it?”

  “No, I can’t! How would you like to have gone through the trauma of losing your mother, having to find yourself a job, taking on extra waitressing in the evening to try and save a bit of money – all in the space of a year? And I know for a fact she spends half the night studying on top of everything.”

  “Well, if she wants to drive herself to a nervous breakdown, that’s her choice I suppose.”

  She heard Kate’s sharp intake of breath. “That’s exactly the point, Hannah. It wasn’t her choice. But given the awful circumstances she found herself in, she’s doing everything she can to make the best of a bad job. Which is more than I can say for you.”

  “Thanks a bunch.”

  “We’ve been friends for a long time, Hannah, more years than I care to remember. You’re kind, you’re generous, you’d give your last farthing to someone who needed it. This sort of behaviour isn’t like you at all.”

  Hannah maintained a dignified silence.

  “If you want to be happy at Harrison House it’s going to be in your own interests to apologise to Jo. She didn’t have to clean up after you’d been sick all over the place... she didn’t have to get you undressed and put you to bed. She could just as easily have knocked on Esme’s door and passed the buck to her – and I know how much you’d have hated that.”

  Hannah shrugged.

  Kate leaned down and retrieved a dirty sock from beneath the radiator. “And when you’ve made your peace with Jo and got over this awful bout of self-pity, I hope you’ll do something about this room. I’ve never seen such a tip.”

  “And I’ve never heard you sound so smug! For God’s sake, go to your stupid exhibition, Kate. Just stop nagging me!” Hannah clutched her throbbing head and dived beneath the bedclothes. She waited until she heard the door click shut before allowing a torrent of tears to overcome her.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Jo put down her pen and leaned back in her chair with a sigh. Her essay on Sons and Lovers was way overdue but getting on to Lawrence’s wavelength was proving more of a challenge than she had anticipated.

  She looked around her room with satisfaction. Brought up in a cramped terraced house, she had never had the luxury of anything larger than a box room to herself before, let alone a room with its own adjoining bathroom. Knowing that she was about to embark upon several years of extremely hard work, she had taken pains to turn it into an oasis of tranquillity; a womb to which she could retreat and regain her strength after the rigours of the day.

  The high white ceiling, with its elegant moulded cornice, reflected the light from the two tall, square-paned sash windows which looked out across the gardens. Lacking a sewing machine, it had taken her hours of laborious stitching to make the handsome full-length curtains in apple green which now adorned them. The material itself, a bargain of which she was particularly proud, she had eventually run to earth in the street market up the road. Recalling how much she had hated the dark, dingy rooms of her childhood, she had painted the walls pale lemon so that the room gave the appearance of sunshine even on a cloudy day.

  The second bargain which Jo had alighted upon had been the large oak table which she used as a desk. Battered and scratched by generations of use it had sat, ignored, for months in a local antique shop. So relieved had the shop owner been to offload it that he had knocked down the price to a fraction of its real worth and had it delivered free. Now polished to within an inch of its life, it was her pride and joy.

  Frowning, Jo chewed the end of her pen and tried to summon up some elegant prose to complete her final paragraph.

  A tap at the door interrupted her train of thought and she threw down the pen in disgust.

  “Come in, it’s open.”

  Kate’s blonde head with its halo of curls appeared round the door. “Sorry to interrupt when you’re off duty, but I wondered if I could have a word.”

  Her politeness brought a smile to Jo’s face. She was used to residents who just barged in willy-nilly, assuming they had the right to demand her attention at any time they chose.

  “Come in and sit down.” She waved her hand at the winged armchair in the corner which was on permanent loan from Esme. “Actually, I am technically on duty, for answering phone calls and so on. But at weekends I can do that in my own room; I don’t need to be downstairs in the office.”

  Kate perched on the chair and gave her a shy smile. “I just wanted to say that I’ve had a long talk with Hannah. I think she’s feeling pretty grim today.”

  “Serves her right. Maybe she’ll think twice about hitting the bottle again.”

  “I hope so. She was horrified when I told her that you’d had to clean up after her and get her to bed the other day. Apparently, she doesn’t remember a thing about it.”

  Jo grunted. Her own memories of the scene were still painfully graphic. “Thanks for talking to her, anyway. Let’s hope it does some good.” It struck her that Kate was looking remarkably smart for
a Sunday. Most of the residents tended to slummock about in jeans and tee shirts. “You’re looking very elegant. Are you off anywhere nice?”

  “What? Oh, thanks.” Kate blushed slightly. “I was just going off to the Tate to have a wander round.”

  Jo wasn’t surprised. She had heard the subdued tones of Radio Three emanating from Kate’s room earlier in the day and realised that here was a person whose cultural interests were very much a part of her everyday life, not just reserved for special occasions or to impress her friends.

  “It’s lovely in here, isn’t it?” Kate was looking around her room with obvious appreciation. “Like living in perpetual sunshine. And that old table’s wonderful.”

  Jo ran an affectionate hand over its gnarled surface. “I couldn’t afford a proper desk and this was going cheap so I thought I’d make use of it. It’s marvellous to be able to spread my books out and so on.”

  “I see you’re reading Sons and Lovers,” Kate smiled. “Somehow I didn’t have you down as a Lawrence devotee.”

  “You’re right. It’s for A level rather than purely for pleasure I’m afraid, though I’m not not enjoying it, if you see what I mean. I love the way he describes things, and I enjoy reading about what it was like to be the son of a poor miner and all that. But he really was a bit of a mummy’s boy, wasn’t he? And that Miriam – she gets right up my nose.”

  Kate laughed. “She was a bit of a clinging vine, I agree. As for his mother, Lawrence wasn’t a mummy’s boy in the same way as Jeremy is, for example, but his love for her certainly wasn’t filial. More lover-like, I’d say.”

  “Yuk!” Jo slammed the book shut. “That’s the trouble with fiction. Too many bleeding hearts... too much emotion and sentiment altogether. History, now, that’s much easier to deal with. You either know the facts or you don’t.”

  “You’re doing history A level too, are you?”

  Jo nodded. “I had to leave school in a bit of a hurry – what with Mum dying and everything. Now I’m doing them by correspondence course, which is easier in one way – because I can do the work in my own time – but it can be a bit isolating sometimes. It’d be nice to have someone to discuss things with.”

  “Well, let me know if I can be of any help.” Kate’s smile was warm. “I did English A level earlier this year, so I may have some books which would be of use to you. Feel free to come and have a look any time.”

  “Thanks, that’d be a great help.” Jo sighed. “Now, I suppose I’d better get on and type out this essay. My typing is of the two-fingered variety, so I’m a bit slow. And then I’ve got a pile of reading to get through – not to mention getting the teas – so, as you can see, it’s not exactly a relaxing Sunday afternoon!”

  “I could help.” Kate bounced to her feet with enthusiasm. “In fact, I’d really love to. Sunday afternoons are my bad time, you see. I tend to get all depressed and morbid if I have too much time to think. You’d be doing me a favour – I could do with some typing practice too. I’ve got an exam coming up soon.”

  “It’d be selfish of me to refuse then.” Jo smiled at her enthusiasm. “Seriously though, I really would be grateful. I don’t get a lot of time for study.”

  “I can’t think how you manage it at all what with all your warden’s duties, not to mention the waitressing.” Kate paused for a moment. “Talking of warden’s duties, if you show me what to do, I could get the teas ready as well. I’d feel much better if I knew I was doing something useful.”

  “What about the Tate?”

  “I can go there any time. It’s a regular haunt of mine. Besides...” Kate shrugged awkwardly, “... I’d like to think I was doing something to repay you for your kindness to Hannah.”

  “That wasn’t kindness,” Jo hastened to disabuse her. “I was merely doing my job. Given the choice, I’d have preferred to give her a good slap.” She gathered the pages of her essay together and fastened them with a paper clip. “Typing this out for me, now that really is an act of kindness. Do let me know if there’s anything you can’t read.” She handed the essay to Kate.

  “What about the teas? If you show me what to do now, I won’t need to disturb you again.”

  “Right, thanks.” Jo rose to her feet and stretched. “It’s just a matter of putting out some cold meat, washing the salad, and rustling up a blancmange or something if that’s OK.” She headed for the door.

  “Sounds easy to me.” Kate hesitated. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but who’s that lovely girl in the photo by your bed?”

  Jo followed her gaze, aware of the usual lump in her throat which seemed to appear whenever someone mentioned her sister.

  “That’s Beth.” She swallowed hard. “My kid sister.” The picture was achingly familiar to her; it was the last thing she saw before she went to sleep and the first when she awoke. There was a quality to the photograph which revealed far more than mere physical appearance. Beth’s serious heart-shaped face stared straight at the camera. But behind the long mane of dark hair, the heavy fringe which almost obscured the eyebrows, lay an ethereal beauty which made the onlooker catch their breath and look again more closely. It was partly, Jo thought, the expression in the eyes – there was pathos there, and a Weltschmerz not generally seen in one so young. The skin, too, seemed to possess a transparent quality as if it had only been borrowed by the wearer for a short while until her sojourn on earth was complete.

  They looked at the picture in silence. “She’s beautiful,” Kate said simply. “There’s something other-worldly about her.”

  Jo cleared her throat. “It was taken just before Mum died. The expression on her face – it was as if she knew somehow that something dreadful was about to happen.”

  “How old is she?”

  “Thirteen. She lives in a children’s home down in Kent.” She saw the quick sympathy which leapt to Kate’s eyes and looked away. She had work to do; she couldn’t afford to spend the rest of the afternoon blubbing. “I see her as often as I can, which isn’t as often as I’d like. That’s what all the waitressing is about, trying to save enough money so that I can afford a home for both of us.”

  “She’s been there since your mum died?”

  Jo nodded. “She went to pieces, couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t have coped with her even if I could have had her to live with me. She needed professional help.”

  “I hope she found it.”

  Jo shrugged. “She’s better than she was. There’s one woman at the home who’s been particularly kind to her, brought her out of her shell a bit. But she’s still far too withdrawn.”

  “I’d love to meet her sometime.”

  “You will.” Suddenly Jo knew that this would indeed be the case. That Beth and Kate would meet and that a real friendship would develop between the two of them. Exactly how all this would happen she couldn’t quite envisage, but the knowledge gave her hope.

  “Mum’s favourite book was Little Women.” She smiled at Kate. “That’s why she named us Jo and Beth. Given what happened, it’s just as well she didn’t give birth to a Meg and Amy too. She was a simple woman, my mum. All she wanted out of life was a comfortable home and a happy family. Sadly for her, she never had either.”

  This unaccustomed revelation of her private life brought the lump back to her throat. She swallowed fiercely. “Come on.” She put her arm around Kate’s shoulder. “Let’s go and get these teas underway.”

  o0o

  Kate paused in her painstaking washing of a bowlful of lettuce leaves, “Jo, shouldn’t you be getting back to your books? I was meant to be helping you by doing the teas myself, not sidetracking you completely.”

  Jo paused in her furious slicing of two dozen tomatoes and glanced at her watch. She gasped. “My God! I’ve been yacking away for nearly an hour. I must have bored you to tears!”

  “Bored me!” One look at K
ate’s face disabused her of that notion. “You couldn’t bore me if you tried. I’ve never met anyone with such single-minded determination before. You know exactly what you want and you’re prepared to work to get it. I’ve got nothing but admiration for you. I just don’t want you to feel that that you’ve got to stay and talk to me because it’s Sunday and you know that Sundays are my bad time.”

  Jo smiled at her earnest expression. “I’m talking to you because I want to talk to you, Kate, not because I feel I ought to.” She reached for the basil and sprinkled some of the chopped leaves over the tomatoes. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to spill my guts like this to anyone – thanks for being such a good listener.”

  Kate returned her smile. “I hope it all works out for you. It’d be lovely if you had your own flat and Beth could come and live with you. You obviously love her very much.”

  “More than anyone else in the world.” Jo drizzled some French dressing over the tomato salad and set it aside. “She’s all I’ve got and she’s suffered enough in her thirteen years. It’s up to me to bring some happiness into her life. Because if I don’t, then sure as hell no one else will. Social workers and so on are all very well, and I’m not decrying what they do, but they do what they do because they’re paid to. It takes love to make a real difference to someone’s life.”

  Kate nodded slowly. “Yes, you’re right. I’ve never really thought of it like that before.” She reached for the white cabbage. “Shall I make some coleslaw out of this?”

  Jo nodded her approval. “And now I’d better go and make a start on my history essay.” She gave Kate a warm smile. “Thanks for everything – I really appreciate it.”

  o0o

  Esme Connors gazed benignly around the dining table. It wasn’t often that all eight of the residents of Harrison House managed to meet together for the evening meal on a Monday evening, but it was nice when it happened.