The Candle Factory Girl

by Tania Crosse

  ‘Glad you’ve been let out to play for once,’ Eva nodded at Nell with a hint of bitter irony. ‘I see the old bugger ain’t coming, thank goodness. Wouldn’t want him spoiling the afternoon.’

  Hillie had to chuckle. Didn’t mince her words, did Eva. Hillie noticed she was giving her best coat an airing in honour of the occasion. She’d bought it for next to nothing, Hillie recalled her saying, in a pawnshop years earlier. It would have to do her until she died, she’d proclaimed proudly. And it would probably have to!

  ‘Hello, Mr and Mrs P, Gert, kiddies,’ Hillie beamed, her dragging heart lifting at the prospect of spending some time with this jolly family she loved so much. And then she noticed that Stan was assisting Kit to manoeuvre Old Sal’s wheelchair over the threshold and onto the pavement. The old lady was so swathed in blankets and scarves that Hillie could scarcely see her wizened little face, but Old Sal’s eyes were like bright, shiny beads. It was so difficult to take her out that it was a rare occurrence. Hillie doubted she understood what was going on, and admired the family for making such an effort.

  ‘Hello, Kit,’ she greeted Gert’s brother as he heaved over the back wheels. ‘Not working, then?’

  ‘Early shift, so I’ve finished for the day,’ he replied pleasantly. ‘It’s early to bed and early to rise for me at the moment. I’ll be heading back to my digs and my bed straight after the concert.’

  Hillie fell into step beside him as he trundled his grandmother along the street. ‘You all right, Old Sal?’ she asked, leaning forward and raising her voice, and the old dear answered with a gummy grin. ‘I wonder if she appreciates it,’ Hillie commented as she straightened up. ‘D’you think she knows it’s Christmas?’

  ‘Not sure, but it was the only way we could all come out together. You know we can’t leave her. God knows what she’d do.’

  ‘Set the house on fire probably,’ Gert joined in the conversation. ‘Or have a fall. But I’m sure she’ll enjoy coming out, and we’ve got her well wrapped up.’

  ‘Yes, so I see,’ Hillie chuckled, smiling first at Gert and then at Kit as she walked along between them. Kit was the only one of the six children who took after his father in looks, Hillie reflected. Stan must have been good-looking in his youth if Kit was anything to go by. Funny that, she mused. But she supposed you didn’t normally consider such things when you’d grown up with someone. But the thought slipped away as her attention was drawn by her mother nattering away with Eva, and she breathed a sigh of contentment. It was wonderful to see her mother having a good time when most of her life was lived under a weighty cloud.

  As they reached the corner of the street, the unusual sight of a motor vehicle turning in from Battersea Bridge Road drew Hillie’s curiosity. She looked back to see a black taxi pulling up outside Number Three on the opposite side. Out climbed Mr and Mrs Braithwaite, heads held high in their habitually superior manner. While Charles Braithwaite paid the driver, Hillie saw Jessica slip out of the cab behind her mother, looking downtrodden and cowed despite her fashionably tailored coat and cloche hat with its turned-back brim. But it seemed Jessica couldn’t help glance across at the large, rowdy group gathering on the corner of the street. When her eyes met Hillie’s, her long face moved into a broad smile.

  Hillie didn’t allow herself the luxury of hesitation. It was only when she’d crossed the street behind the departing taxi that she found herself making a deliberate attempt to steel her nerves.

  ‘Good afternoon, Mr and Mrs Braithwaite. Hello, Jessica,’ she called with apparent confidence. ‘Been somewhere nice?’

  With her back to her parents, Jessica rolled her eyes. ‘Lunch with another manager at Arding and Hobbs. It was so boring.’

  ‘Ah,’ Hillie nodded knowingly, then raised her voice again. ‘Not coming to the carol concert in the park?’

  Jessica’s face lit like a beacon. ‘Oh, I’d love to!’

  ‘Well, I’m not sitting round in the cold with the hoi polloi,’ Mrs Braithwaite proclaimed curtly, stabbing a disparaging look in Hillie’s direction.

  Hillie ignored the woman’s remark. ‘Jessica’s welcome to come with us if she wants.’

  ‘Now look here, young lady.’ Already halfway up the stone steps to the front door, Charles Braithwaite turned to sneer down his nose at Hillie. ‘My daughter doesn’t want to mix with the likes of you.’

  Hillie felt the hairs on the back of her neck bristle with resentment. ‘What you mean is you don’t want her mixing with us. But this is just a carol concert by the Sally Army. I don’t see how you can object to that. It’ll be over in an hour or so. Hardly time for us to corrupt her. And she wants to come, don’t you, Jessica?’

  Hillie held her breath as Jessica appeared to waver in her resolve, but then to Hillie’s relief, she gave a decisive nod. Hillie saw the slight hesitation on Charles’s face and seizing the opportunity, grasped Jessica’s hand.

  ‘Come along, then,’ she said, drawing Jessica away. She chose to ignore Charles’s open mouth as he went to protest, but he didn’t come after them as they hurried across the street to catch up with the others making their way towards the park.

  ‘Oh, my goodness, well done.’ Jessica had hunched her shoulders as if she expected her father’s wrath to descend upon her. ‘I’d never have had the nerve.’

  ‘Look upon it as a first step,’ Hillie grinned. ‘Maybe we can work on it.’

  ‘I don’t know about that.’

  Jessica arched a wry eyebrow as they hurried along to join the two families walking past the opulent mansions in Cambridge Road. Gert had watched what had happened, her jaw dropped in awed astonishment at Hillie’s bravado.

  ‘You joining us, then?’ she called.

  ‘It would seem so, yes!’ Jessica replied, still bewildered at her freedom. ‘Thanks to Hillie here.’

  ‘Oh, you can rely on our Hill to stir things up. Come on. This is me brother, Kit,’ she announced as they finally caught up.

  ‘Oh, hello. Yes. I’ve often seen you coming and going.’

  ‘Of course. And I, you.’ Kit briefly took one hand from the wheelchair handles to shake Jessica’s. ‘Hope you’ve got some gloves. Your hands are cold already.’

  ‘Yes, I have. In my pocket.’

  ‘Hello, Jessica, ducks,’ Stan welcomed her over his shoulder, and Eva nodded a greeting, too.

  Nell turned back to add her own warm smile. ‘Nice to meet you properly, dear. Sorry I can’t shake your hand. Got to hold onto these two tykes until we get into the park,’ she explained, jabbing her head down at Daisy and Frances who were skipping boisterously along on either side of her.

  ‘Gosh, there’s so many of you. Let me help,’ Jessica offered, starting to look so relaxed and happy that Hillie was pleased she’d made the decision to stand up for her.

  And so it was that quite a little army crossed over Albert Bridge Road together and entered the park through Sun Gate. Once inside, they joined the throngs of people making their way towards the bandstand, and soon the group got broken up by the surging crowd. The little ones were some way ahead with Nell, Stan and Eva who was pushing a vociferous Primrose in her pram, since now that she was walking, the toddler wanted to join her siblings on her own two feet. Jessica came next, chatting with Kit as he propelled Old Sal along in her wheelchair, and Hillie and Gert were just a little behind them.

  ‘Hello, miss. Not with your young man today?’

  Hillie’s wide-stretched eyes alighted on one of the park’s brown-uniformed keepers, and a slick of sweat oozed down her back. The man was smiling genially, litter-spike resting in his hand like a javelin. He was a jovial, friendly fellow who’d chatted to her and Jimmy on many occasions. But his innocent comment was the last thing she wanted to hear just now. It was sod’s law she should bump into him just there when he patrolled the whole flipping park!

  ‘Not today,’ she muttered feebly.

  ‘Enjoy the concert, then!’ the park-keeper called, and went on his way.

  Hi
llie released a sigh of relief. She and Jimmy had been so careful to keep their relationship hidden. They’d even agreed not to give each other a Christmas present. If Harold discovered she’d stowed away a gift suitable for an adult male, there’d be hell to pay. Likewise if Jimmy gave her something, where could she say it had come from? No. Far better not to take any chances and just wish each other a Merry Christmas instead.

  As it was, they often just walked in the park on their dates, but if the keeper had recognised her from that, perhaps they’d better not go there anymore. Everyone else who knew about her and Jimmy was sworn to secrecy, but she’d kept her own family in the dark as she couldn’t risk it getting back to her father. But as luck would have it, her mother was well ahead of her with Eva and Stan, with all the children cavorting around out of earshot. Jessica, who as yet didn’t know about Hillie and Jimmy, was still engrossed in conversation with Kit, so neither she nor Nell had been aware of the keeper’s words. So the dangerous moment had passed unnoticed and Hillie relaxed as they reached the bandstand area in plenty of time.

  ‘Oh, look, there’s Belinda!’ Gert cried, waving frantically. ‘She said she’d try and meet us here. And who’s that handsome fella with her? Here, you don’t say she’s been hiding something from us, do you?’

  ‘Hello, Belinda!’ Hillie greeted their friend as she weaved her way through the crowds. ‘Glad you made it!’

  ‘Oh, I’m looking forward to it!’ Belinda grinned. ‘And this is my brother, Rob.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you. I’m Gert.’

  Hillie had to smile as her best friend blinked up at Belinda’s good-looking brother. In her head, she could hear Gert saying, ‘Cor, he’s a bit of all right, ain’t he?’ Rob was unattached, they knew. Wouldn’t it be good if he and Gert hit it off? With a sister as nice as Belinda, he must be a good sort.

  Hillie quickly introduced Jessica to Belinda and her brother, and then all conversation was lost in the scramble to get everyone seated. Kit parked Old Sal’s wheelchair to one side and stayed standing beside her, while Eva managed to sit on the end of a row so that she could have the pram beside her, and the others vied to find seats among the thousand places available. To make room for others, each child was seated on an adult’s knees, and Jessica ended up with Trudy on her lap. Hillie noticed that Jessica seemed to delight in having such close contact with the little girl and didn’t mind a jot that the tiny, none-too-clean fingers were constantly playing with the earrings that twinkled on her earlobes.

  ‘Here we go, then. “The Holly and the Ivy”,’ Gert announced as if she’d arranged the concert herself, beaming at Rob who she’d managed to sit next to, even though she had Mildred wriggling about on her lap. ‘The women don’t half look funny, don’t they, in them old-fashioned bonnets?’

  ‘It’s their traditional uniform,’ Hillie whispered sharply on her other side. ‘They do such wonderful work. Of all the trees that are in the wood,’ she sang gustily, and with a cheeky grin, Gert joined the entire audience in belting out the familiar words.

  ‘Quite magical, isn’t it?’ Jessica breathed in the break before the next carol. ‘There must be over a thousand people here. Every seat’s taken and there’s loads of people standing.’

  ‘Something about music in the open air,’ Hillie agreed. ‘And the cold somehow adds to the atmosphere.’

  ‘Yeah, everyone’s breathing out clouds!’ Gert put it. ‘Oh, “Once in Royal” is next.’

  Music rippled out across the park again, and voices were raised in happy exultation. As the day began to fade, hurricane lamps were lit around the bandstand, and the tinsel and baubles on the Christmas tree glittered prettily in the flickering lights. Hillie watched the wonder on the faces of the little ones and a lump came to her throat. She wished so fervently that she could do something more for Luke and her sisters, but how could she? Then she saw her mum smile at her over their heads, and that nagging feeling began tugging at Hillie’s heart again. What was it that made her mum bend to her father’s cruel will all the time? But they were all together, safe and happy for now, and she should put all else aside to enjoy this delightful moment. If only she could have shared it with Jimmy, it would have been perfect. But they’d decided it was too dangerous to risk any contact, however fleeting, at the concert. Hillie kept looking round, though, hoping he might have come anyway, but keeping his distance. She was both relieved and disappointed when she didn’t spot him.

  As it was, the concert was over all too soon. As the final rousing chorus of ‘Oh, Come all ye Faithful’ died away on the early evening chill and people queued to leave their row of seats, sadness stole into Hillie’s heart. The majority of those in the audience would have little to spend on Yuletide celebrations, yet she could imagine them spending a happy Christmas with their friends and families. And so would Hillie – if it weren’t for her father’s menacing presence and the fact that she couldn’t risk trying to see Jimmy.

  ‘Hello, there. It’s Miss Braithwaite, isn’t it?’

  They were all wending their way down the avenue away from the bandstand when a man’s voice interrupted the lively conversation between the three young women. Hillie realised that the fellow must have picked Jessica out of the milling crowds, and her curiosity was drawn for more reason than one. He was tall and dressed in a good quality coat, but even in the gathering dusk, one glance showed Hillie that his skin was as dark as coal! Hillie hadn’t seen many people of his race in her life, and he looked a bit frightening at first, but he was well-spoken with a lovely lilting accent and seemed friendly enough. Hillie judged him to be about thirty, and once the initial shock had worn off, she thought he actually looked quite attractive in an unfamiliar and exotic way. Waiting patiently beside him was a beautiful dog, ghostly pale in the gloom and gazing up alertly at its master. Who could this chap be, and more to the point, how on earth did Jessica know him?

  ‘Do you remember me?’ the man asked.

  Hillie glanced across at Jessica and was intrigued to see recognition dawn on her friend’s face.

  ‘Yes, I do,’ Jessica said slowly. ‘I did the paperwork when you collected Honey from the dogs’ home. But I’m afraid I don’t recall your name.’

  ‘Ah, well, that is no surprise,’ the stranger chuckled amiably. ‘My name is Akpobio. But please do call me Patrick. But I am afraid I changed Honey’s name to Africa to remind me of my homeland every day.’

  ‘Well, I think that’s lovely. And it’s really nice to see her again and looking so healthy.’ Jessica bent to ruffle Africa’s fur behind both ears, setting the animal’s tail swishing vigorously. ‘She’s such a gorgeous dog. I don’t know how anyone could’ve abandoned her.’

  ‘Perhaps she was lost,’ Patrick suggested.

  Jessica shook her head. ‘I doubt it. If a stray doesn’t have a collar, we contact the police and it didn’t seem as if anyone was looking for her.’

  ‘Their loss and my gain.’

  Jessica straightened up and Hillie was surprised to see the pair smiling at each other hesitantly, not quite knowing what to say next, but as if hoping the conversation wasn’t over. Could Hillie detect some sort of instant attraction between them? But, oh Lord, they were from two very different cultures, oceans apart. If they wanted to be friends, Hillie could only see problems ahead, especially given the Braithwaite’s superiority complex. But even in the fading light, she caught the delicate hue blossom on Jessica’s face.

  ‘Do you mind if I walk with you?’ Patrick found his tongue at last. ‘I go out through Sun Gate.’

  ‘So do we.’ Jessica’s voice quivered with pleasure, though Hillie was sure there was some nervousness there as well. ‘These are my friends, Hillie and Gert. They live in the same street.’

  ‘How do you do, ladies? And do you work at the dogs’ home, too?’

  ‘Nah, we work at Price’s.’

  Hillie exchanged meaningful glances with Gert. Belinda and Rob had already set off in a different direction, but not before invitin
g Hillie and Gert to a New Year’s party at their parents’ house in two weeks’ time. They asked Jessica as well, but Jessica had said she was expected at a party with her own parents. But now Hillie knew exactly why Gert had put on her most working-class accent in reply to Patrick’s question. She, too, could see that no good could come of any relationship between Jessica and this stranger. She was doubtless trying to put the clearly cultured chap off by letting him think Jessica’s best mates were uneducated factory girls. But it didn’t work!

  ‘Indeed? I must say I admire their beautiful decorative candles. I have a box of Christmas ones all ready to light, but alas, no one to share them with. I have no family in this country, and no one wants to spend Christmas with their dentist.’

  ‘Dentist!’ all three girls chorused.

  Patrick looked somewhat abashed. ‘For my sins. Every mouth is fascinating, you know. It tells a story. But I am sure you do not want to hear about that.’

  ‘On the contrary, I should love to,’ Jessica answered breathlessly.

  ‘Then… perhaps I could make so bold as to ask you out? Would you like tea at Claridge’s, perhaps? Oh, my goodness, all this and I have yet to ask your given name.’

  Hillie held her breath. Claridge’s! Blimey. But surely it could only end in tears? So she slumped with relief when she heard Jessica’s reply.

  ‘It’s Jessica. But I’m afraid that wouldn’t be possible. My parents wouldn’t allow it.’

  ‘Because of the colour of my skin?’ Resignation trembled in Patrick’s voice.

  ‘My parents can be very prejudiced,’ Jessica apologised. But then she flicked up her head. ‘But I’m not. Give me your telephone number and I’ll ring you when the coast is clear.’

  ‘Why, yes, of course,’ Patrick almost stuttered, fumbling inside his coat. ‘Here is my card. And here we are at Sun Gate. I go this way, and you?’