by Rosie James
At Emily’s insistence, they all went up to the top deck of the bus, and as all four of them sat together in the very front two seats with the aisle between them, Abigail hugged herself with happiness. She did have friends, friends who seemed to like being with her, as Luke had said they would.
Then Eileen said, looking across, ‘Didn’t we have a lovely time in the water this morning – you loved it, didn’t you Emily? And everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves with not a care in the world.’
An elderly man sitting right behind them leaned forward. ‘Well, we’d better make the most of it, my luvvers,’ he said, ‘because we might not be enjoying ourselves for much longer.’ He shook his head. ‘See, I ain’t got no faith in our prime minister who d’seem a spineless sort of bloke to me. Neville ain’t no match for Adolf, in my opinion!’ The man leaned forward even further to make his point. ‘The papers d’say that the German armies are already being amassed in great numbers! So what does that tell you? Eh? What does that tell you! Well, let’s hope our blokes are ready for ’em, that’s all I can say.’
Eileen glanced quickly at Carrie, whose eyes had suddenly become bright with tears. Even though Mark always brushed off Carrie’s anxieties, Eileen knew her friend never stopped worrying about him, his future – about their future. When this war came, would they have a future together?
Eileen half-turned to speak to the man behind them. ‘Let’s not spoil this lovely day,’ she said cheerfully. ‘It hasn’t happened yet, and you never know …’
The man stood up to get off at his stop. ‘I’m afraid we do know, luvver,’ he said. ‘Nothing’s gonna stop it now.’
Abigail decided not to add to this conversation because she’d be ashamed to admit that she didn’t know too much about the war, or what it might mean to them, to her and Emily. Aunt Edna had been the first to mention it the day they were leaving Coopers and Abigail had thought her aunt was just trying to scare them into staying. But war, any war, did sound terrible. Dada had told her a little about the one he’d fought in, that many of his comrades had lost their lives. But mostly he would tell her how, when things went quiet, his sketching and colouring helped him to gather his courage. Of course, Abigail thought, at school, they’d learned something of that war and what it had meant to both sides – but wasn’t that supposed to have been the war that ended all wars? And if so, why would there be another one?
Abigail gazed out of the window at the passing scene of people going freely about their normal business. Why couldn’t it always be like this?
Chapter 12
‘Come on, I think it’s time you got out now,’ Abigail said, holding out one of the new large towels they’d bought when they’d gone shopping for Wellingtons. Emily clambered out of the bath and Abigail smiled. ‘I think you are smelling so much nicer this evening than you did this morning!’
Emily wrinkled her nose as she snuggled into her mother’s outstretched arms. ‘What was that smell?’ Emily said, ‘I thought it was horrid!’
‘It was a sort of disinfectant to make sure no one caught any germs,’ Abigail said as they left the bathroom. ‘But our Pears soap has done the trick, hasn’t it? Now you are smelling just perfect again.’
Back in their bedroom, it didn’t take long for Emily to climb into her clean pyjamas, and Abigail said, ‘I think you wore Eileen and Carrie out this afternoon on the Downs, Emily. That game of leapfrog went on for ages! I gave up after half an hour!’
‘I love playing leapfrog,’ Emily said, ‘and Eileen said she does, too.’
‘Well, the only leaping you’re going to do now,’ Abigail said as she finished towelling Emily’s hair dry, ‘is into bed for a good long night’s sleep.’
‘But I’m not tired!’ Emily said. Abigail thought, when did her daughter ever admit to feeling tired? But it was obvious that Emily must be fairly exhausted after an hour in the water at the baths, and a whole afternoon running around on the Downs. And that warm bath just now would put the final touch to an eventful day, Abigail thought as she finally tucked Emily beneath the covers.
‘Can’t I do just a teeny bit of colouring before I go to sleep?’ Emily said, yawning. ‘Please, Mummy.’
‘No, not tonight, darling. There’s another day tomorrow.’
And almost before her words were out, Abigail saw Emily’s eyelids begin to droop, and within two minutes she was fast asleep.
After going back along to the bathroom to wash and brush her teeth, and to make sure everything had been left spotless, Abigail returned to their bedroom, admitting to feeling quite tired herself. It was only nine o’clock, but it wouldn’t take much persuasion for her to climb in beside Emily and have an early night.
She got undressed and slipped into her nightdress and cotton dressing gown, which she’d had for so long it was almost threadbare. Then she paused to look out of the window. It would soon be September, and already the nights were beginning to draw in. September, the beginning of autumn. The time of year when they’d always been so busy at Coopers, harvesting the hundreds of pounds of apples and pears, plums, gooseberries, raspberries. Abigail remembered how rough and raw her hands always became. And as soon as she could walk, Emily had been given the task of picking up all the fallers and putting them into the wheelbarrow. Those fallers would have to be checked over carefully to see that they were undamaged and fit for market. Nothing was wasted at Coopers. Abigail shook her head briefly. What a different life they had left behind them, she and Emily.
And how different that life had been from that of their new friends. Eileen had told Abigail that she’d been caring for her disabled mother for many years, while Carrie, living in a vicarage with her parents, seemed to enjoy supporting them in all that went with being part of a busy parish. Both girls had been born into loving homes and were now happy to repay that love with some of their own.
Abigail turned away from the window, suddenly feeling so tired she couldn’t wait to get to bed. But just then, there were two short gentle raps on the door. She paused a moment, confused, then went over to open it. Miss Grant must have come home early from her whist drive, though it was unusual for the landlady to want to speak to Abigail at this time of the day.
But it was not Miss Grant, it was Miss Grant’s brother, and it was obvious that he had been drinking heavily. Leaning against the door jamb to support himself, he stood there with an insolent smile on his face.
‘Shorry to dissturb you, Mrs Wilson,’ he said, his words slurred, ‘but it is Saturday night and I thought we could go out for a bit of a tipple. Jush you an’ me, eh?’
Frightened beyond words at this intrusion, Abigail desperately tried to close the door and shut him out, but he wasn’t having it, coming right into the room, closing the door and standing with his back against it.
He wagged a finger. ‘Now, don’t be like that, Mrs Wilson. It’s only a bit of fun, you d’know. All the girls like a bit of fun, don’t they? I bet you d’like a bit of fun!’
Trembling all over, Abigail found her voice. ‘Get out,’ she said quietly, trying to keep her voice calm, and glancing anxiously over at Emily. ‘My little girl is asleep. How dare you come into my bedroom, Mr Grant! How dare you!’
‘This is my bedroom, remember,’ he said, leering at her. ‘I got every right to come in ’ere.’
‘Well, you can have it back. As soon as you like!’ Abigail said, knowing that her flaming cheeks must look as red as his hair. ‘And I will certainly not be coming out with you tonight, or any night!’
Although she was managing to put some strength into her words, Abigail was afraid that in a minute she was going to fall to the floor in a dead faint. This was abhorrent, he was abhorrent! And if Emily should suddenly wake and see this huge, drunken man standing there it would terrify her.
But Ronald Grant hadn’t finished. It hadn’t taken him long to notice that Abigail was only wearing a flimsy nightdress and a dressing gown, untied at the waist, which did nothing to hide her curves. Now he stepped for
ward and put his hands on both her hips, drawing her roughly in towards him and trying to reach her lips with his.
Now, almost terrified out of her mind as she felt his hands begin to reach up past her waist, Abigail let his mouth get closer. Then, as hard as she could manage, she bit into that rubbery lower lip with such force that he stopped what he was doing and, yelling with pain, he stumbled backwards, almost falling over while trying to stop the blood from pouring down his chin.
Knowing that she now had the upper hand, Abigail edged him towards the door and pushed him outside with all the strength she had left in her body. And just then –praise be – Miss Grant’s voice reached them from the hall.
‘Ronald? Ronald? Is that you? Are you home already?’
Standing there holding his bloodied handkerchief to his mouth, Ronald Grant’s shoulders slumped.
‘Bloody ’ell,’ he mumbled. ‘That’s all I d’need.’
Going over to the other bed, Abigail collapsed onto it and covered her face with her hands. That was the last thing she might have expected in Miss Grant’s respectable household, and for several minutes Abigail could not stop herself from shaking.
Her first thought was to quickly get dressed, wake Emily and leave number fourteen, now, tonight. How could she bear to be in the same house as that man for another second!
But presently, regaining her composure, Abigail knew that there was nothing she could do about it tonight. She and Emily could not end up on the street with nowhere to go. But tomorrow – tomorrow they would leave Miss Grant’s house and never set foot in it again. Though it was going to be very embarrassing to explain to the landlady why they were leaving sooner than arranged.
Abigail clasped and unclasped her hands as her thought ran on – because there would be little chance of finding somewhere else tomorrow. The estate agent’s would surely be closed on a Sunday. How was she going to get out of this!
Then, suddenly, Abigail remembered the little note that Eileen had given her all those weeks ago. The note with Eileen’s telephone number on it. Eileen and Carrie would help her out of this mess, Abigail thought, because they knew Bristol and where she might find help.
Her mind now clearer as she assembled her thoughts, Abigail went over to pick up her handbag. She had put that note safely right at the back of her purse, though she hadn’t looked at it since. But as she fumbled, there it was, the figures of that telephone number boldly written.
Abigail breathed a huge sigh of relief. As soon as she and Emily left the house in the morning, she would ring Eileen. There was a telephone kiosk just up the road, and it shouldn’t be difficult to work out how to use it even though Abigail had never done so before.
She gazed at that little piece of paper with the magic number on it. Thank heaven for a friend! Thank heaven for friends!
Chapter 13
As soon as they’d had breakfast the following morning, Abigail and Emily quietly left the house and made their way towards the telephone kiosk. There had been no sight nor sound from the landlady nor her brother, for which Abigail was extremely thankful. What on earth could she have found to say to either of them?
‘Where are we going?’ Emily asked as she guided the pushchair up the hill. ‘Can we see Eileen and Carrie today and go to the Downs again?’
Abigail half-smiled, wishing she had the same energy as her daughter who showed no sign of being tired after their day yesterday. Abigail herself had managed to eventually get some sleep after her encounter with Ronald Grant, but it had been an uneasy rest and she’d been relieved to get up this morning. And she’d be even more relieved after she’d spoken to Eileen and Carrie. They would give her sound advice as to what to do next.
They arrived at the kiosk and Abigail opened the door for them to go inside. There was just room for the two of them and the pushchair. ‘What is this place?’ Emily asked curiously.
‘It’s where I can make a telephone call to Eileen, that’s all.’
Although Emily was obviously puzzled, she said no more as she watched Abigail read the instructions in front of her and then put two pennies into a slot before pressing a large silver button. And after a few seconds and some clinking of coins, they both heard Eileen’s familiar voice coming through the wires.
‘Hello? 6495?’
Speaking carefully so as not to alarm Emily, Abigail said, ‘Hello, Eileen. It’s me, Abigail …’
Frowning, Eileen stared at the receiver for a second. Abigail had never rung their number before so there must be something wrong. ‘Oh – Abigail,’ Eileen said. ‘Is … is everything all right?’
Abigail was so relieved to hear her friend’s voice, she couldn’t answer for a moment. ‘Not exactly.’ Abigail glanced down at Emily who had noticed the telephone directory and was idly turning the pages. ‘But I need to talk to you – I need your advice about something.’ Abigail hesitated. ‘It’s rather difficult to explain – but Emily and I need to see you today. Could we meet somewhere? After you’ve taken your mother to church, I mean. Or whenever you’re free?’
Without a second’s hesitation, Eileen said, ‘Of course! And as a matter of fact, my mother doesn’t feel up to going to church this morning so I can meet you wherever you like.’ She paused. ‘Um, how about College Green right by the cathedral? I can be there in half an hour, and there are plenty of seats for us to sit down. It’s a lovely morning and we can watch Emily go on practising her cartwheels on the grass!’
An hour later, sitting side by side on one of the park benches, Abigail said, ‘So you see, we have to get out of number fourteen today, Eileen. I’ve already put our belongings into bags, ready to make our escape, but I’m not sure how I should go looking for somewhere else. The estate agency won’t be open today, so should I just see if there are “Room to let” notices in windows, or even knock on doors?’ Abigail sat back for a moment. ‘Even if we have to end up sleeping under a hedge, that would be preferable to being anywhere near that – that man ever again.’
Eileen gritted her teeth at what Abigail had just told her. The revolting Ronald Grant had taken advantage of an unsophisticated young woman and it was obvious that it had really frightened Abigail. Thank goodness Emily had apparently slept through all of it.
Eileen put her arm around Abigail’s shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, you won’t be sleeping under any hedges tonight, Abigail,’ she said firmly. ‘You will be staying at our house until we can find something permanent for you.’ As Abigail started to protest, Eileen went on quickly, ‘Don’t worry. We’ve plenty of room, and as a matter of fact I happen to know that my mother would like to meet you both because when I explained to her weeks ago that you and your little girl had come to live in Bristol, and knew no one, she suggested that if I ever saw you again you might like to have a meal with us one day.’ Eileen smiled. ‘So there you are, Abigail – a Sunday roast, and a bed for the night are all yours!’
Emily ran up to them then, and Eileen picked her up, swinging her around and around. ‘Come on, we must go and collect all your things – then we are going to my house, Emily! Do you like roast lamb and roast potatoes for dinner?’
Although mystified at this unusual turn of events, Emily’s eyes lit up. ‘And will there be pudding as well?’ she said.
‘Of course there will be pudding!’ Eileen exclaimed. ‘And on the menu today is rice pudding and ice cream!’
Emily clapped her hands. ‘I love rice pudding – but I’ve never had it with ice cream before.’
By now it was eleven o’clock, and at last all the bells had stopped ringing as the city’s church services began. And with Emily in the pushchair, Eileen and Abigail walked quickly towards Redcliffe Way.
‘I think Miss Grant will probably be at church,’ Abigail said, ‘but if she hasn’t gone today and is at the house, I don’t know what I’m going to say to her.’
‘Just say you’ve found a more suitable address and that you won’t be coming back,’ Eileen said firmly. ‘She’s got her money for the rest of
the month so she can’t complain. And if she isn’t there, we’ll just leave a note thanking her for renting you the room for the last three months – and wishing her good health.’
‘But what if he – Ronald – is there?’ Abigail began, and Eileen interrupted.
‘You leave Ronald to me,’ she said. ‘He’ll have a piece of my mind he won’t forget in a hurry!’
Fortunately, when they arrived the house was empty, and after making sure that their room was left exactly as the landlady would have expected – with a polite little letter of thanks on the dressing table – Abigail collected the last of their belongings to take downstairs where the others were waiting.
‘Why are we taking all our things with us?’ Emily enquired, looking up from the pushchair where she was in charge of all the bags.
‘Because we shall not be coming back to Miss Grant’s house,’ Abigail explained. ‘We are going to find somewhere a bit nicer to stay. But just for tonight, Emily, we are going to be sleeping at Eileen’s house. What do you think of that?’
Emily’s eyes shone. ‘I would like to stay in Eileen’s house! And will Carrie be there, too?’
‘She may be – after she’s had dinner with her parents,’ Eileen said, ‘because Carrie’s just finished knitting a jumper for my mother and she said she might bring it over later.’
They arrived at the Centre and Eileen said, ‘I think with all these bags and belongings with us we should take a taxi this morning and go home in style. Don’t you, Emily?’
Emily nodded. ‘I’ve been in a taxi before,’ she said. ‘Haven’t I, Mummy?’