The Candle Factory Girl

by Tania Crosse

  He set off down the street, and then turned with a cheery wave before disappearing round the corner.

  Hillie went back inside to where the girls were finishing their breakfast, the atmosphere so much brighter since Harold had gone. ‘Hurry up, you lot,’ she chivvied her sisters. ‘Toilet and teeth, and then off to school.’

  ‘Only two more weeks for me,’ Joan boasted, shoving the last piece of her bread and margarine into her mouth. ‘And then I can join you at Price’s.’

  ‘Oh, no, you won’t!’ Hillie was adamant. ‘You’ll take whatever time it needs to find a job you like. And you can go to evening classes so you can get an even better job later on. And Luke can do the same.’

  ‘But… can we afford to do that? And what about you, Hill? You’re cleverer than all of us.’

  Hillie gave a rueful smile. ‘I’m not sure about that. And I’ve got you lot to take care of for now. But who knows what’ll happen in the future? I might get my chance later. But in the meantime, Jimmy… Jimmy and I had some reasonable savings,’ she went on, chasing away the catch in her throat. ‘I can dip into those if need be.’

  ‘OK, Hill. But that money’s rightfully yours.’ Joan squeezed her sister’s shoulder as she got up from the table. ‘You sit down and have a cuppa. I’ll see to the others.’

  Hillie nodded her thanks, mouth curving upwards at the corners. Yes, she could do with a sit-down. Not because her ribs were aching from the fall off the ladder – or more accurately, the landing on the concrete below – since what she’d said to Luke was true. Physically, she was feeling much better. But it was making sense of everything that had happened that was troubling her. Just over six months ago, she and Jimmy had been living at the flat in relative harmony as they rebuilt their trust, unaware of how things were going to explode with Jackson. But now both Jimmy and Harold were dead and Hillie was happily living back in Banbury Street – ironically, just as her stepfather had wished.

  But at least not under his terms. She’d well and truly rung the changes. Luke was sleeping in a proper bed for the first time in years, up in the smaller room at the back of the house that the four girls had once shared. Trixie, Daisy and Frances now occupied the larger bedroom at the front, and Hillie and Joan slept in Harold and Nell’s double bed that Kit had helped Luke move downstairs into the parlour.

  Yet again, Kit had been a tower of strength. Now, as she pondered her feelings for him, Hillie questioned her loyalties to Jimmy. In her grief and with all the upset of the trials from the Jackson case, and having to go back to work and endure Harold’s taunting proximity even more than ever, there hadn’t been room in her strung-out emotions to think about Kit. She’d just accepted his support with grateful thanks.

  But now, with Harold gone and the horrors of the past beginning to fade a little, she was starting to put some order back into her life. Into her life, and Luke’s and her sisters’. It had started with the practicalities in the house, and now things were settling down, with nobody seeming to be missing Harold in the slightest, Hillie could think about what was going on in her heart.

  She’d been wrong to let her affections err away from Jimmy while she was married to him. So had everything that had happened been her fault, some sort of divine retribution? She’d been through hell, but it was Jimmy who’d lost his life. And if she hadn’t interfered, he’d still have been alive.

  But would it be wrong now for her to give in to her feelings for Kit? To seek some happiness for herself? Did she deserve it? Or was she destined to be a widow for the rest of her life? To accept that her role in the scheme of things was to care for her siblings and make sure they enjoyed a good future? Hardly a penance, but it’d mean saying goodbye to any life of her own.

  The tea she swallowed tasted bitter as a tumult of tortured thoughts tumbled about in her head. Kind and supportive though he’d always been, Kit would doubtless be horrified to learn of her feelings anyway, especially so soon after Jimmy’s demise. Perhaps it would be best if she drove them out of her head and knuckled down to devoting herself to her family instead. Her own future would have to take care of itself.

  She breathed out a tormented sigh. There was no point dwelling on what might or might not be. She had plenty to do. No heavy work, the doctors had said. But easy, day-to-day tasks were fine. Clear the table, wash up… and then steel herself to sort out Jimmy’s clothes. Though Harold’s she’d disposed of already, her mouth curling up in contempt as she touched them, as yet she hadn’t found the courage to sort out Jimmy’s. But now she’d moved back into her old family home, she felt it was time to put the past behind her as best she could. And this would be another step in the right direction.

  Gert, Rob and Kit had helped her pack all her possessions from the flat and load them into Rob’s car. There hadn’t been much, and one trip had sufficed. Back in Banbury Street, Hillie had unpacked the household items they’d accumulated, and the cut-glass vase had been given pride of place on the mantelpiece in the front room. But Jimmy’s clothes… She hadn’t touched them until now.

  Gert, bless her, had folded them with the utmost care. Hillie sat on the double bed now and, gritting her teeth, began to lay the items out beside her. Underclothes were too personal to use even as rags, although Jimmy’s vests still had some wear in them and might be useful for Luke. Likewise some shirts and trousers, as Jimmy had been the same height and slight build – if Hillie could bear to see her brother sporting Jimmy’s attire. That just left his best Sunday coat and his jacket – the very same he’d been wearing when he’d been stabbed.

  Hillie gazed down at the bloodstained garment in her hands and felt hot tears scorching the back of her eyes. And as she held the jacket to her face, breathing in Jimmy’s smell, fat, salty pearls dripped down and spangled the thick, dark material.

  She lost track of how long she sat there, motionless and drenched in sorrow. Her marriage to Jimmy hadn’t been made in heaven, and he hadn’t been her ideal partner in life. But she’d loved him, and he hadn’t deserved to die.

  She didn’t know what to do with the jacket. The extensive crimson stains would be impossible to remove, so it couldn’t be worn again. It was only fit for the dustbin, but could she bear to part with it? And such a pity as it was almost new.

  Hillie hadn’t realised that her tears had dried as she arranged the garment on the bed, and then opened it up to inspect the lining. It was in perfect condition, and a rich, deep blue. Jimmy had bought the jacket from his ill-gotten gains from Jackson, and had been as proud as a peacock of it. No wonder he’d mentioned it in his dying breath. Almost as if he was trying to tell her something. Remind her that it was good quality and worth a bob or two? But he wouldn’t have realised about the stains…

  The lining was a lovely colour, though, and she could probably salvage enough material to make a skirt for Frances. It seemed a shame to cut it, but it was the best use Hillie could make of the jacket, and she might then feel justified in keeping the rest of it for sentimental reasons.

  Wait a minute, though. Hillie frowned. It looked as if a couple of inches of the lining hem had been badly sewn. So perhaps it had been a second, and therefore cheaper, which was why Jimmy had bought it. But why just in that one place?

  Hillie’s curiosity was aroused, and she went to investigate further. It felt, well, as if something had been caught up in it. How odd.

  A few moments later, she’d armed herself with some scissors and began to snip the stitches. The scissor blades scraped on something small and hard. Hillie put down the scissors and smoothed out the hem that appeared to have been carefully rolled up, concealing something inside.

  Out fell a dozen or more tiny, multi-faceted, twinkling stones.

  Hillie stared at them as they gleamed on the bedspread. Stunned. Amazed. Shocked. And yet somehow, utterly calm. She didn’t need telling. Diamonds.

  So Jimmy had been trying to tell her something. Somehow, in his dealings with Jackson, he’d managed to steal from the blackguard himself.
Trick him. Getting his own back, perhaps. A secret satisfaction. But, more than that, a way of securing their own future.

  But how was Jimmy intending to turn them into cash? Some were only tiny. You could scarcely pick them up between finger and thumb. But others were relatively large, and from what Jimmy had explained to her, these all appeared to be ready cut and polished. The colours differed slightly, some being whiter or yellower than others. But overall, they must be worth a small fortune, or would at least have boosted their savings enormously. Making enough for a deposit on a house, perhaps?

  Oh, bless you, Jimmy.

  But what could Hillie do with them? She had no idea where to sell them. And were they hers to sell? She knew they weren’t, of course, but she jolly well felt they should be! Recompense for her widowhood.

  A gentle knock on the front door shattered the silence and made her jump. Quickly, she scooped up the diamonds and slipped them into a drawer before stepping out into the hallway.

  ‘Kit!’ she greeted her visitor, disguising the disquiet in her voice. ‘Oh, come in. Day off?’

  ‘Yes,’ he confirmed, coming inside. ‘How my shifts worked out, at least. I’ve just been into Mum’s. But I thought I’d pop in and see how you’re doing.’

  ‘Oh, that’s kind of you,’ Hillie smiled, even though she felt all upside-down inside, what with the discovery of the diamonds, and then Kit’s arrival making her feel so happy and yet almost afraid of her feelings for him. ‘Cuppa?’ she asked, grasping at the answer to all ills.

  ‘No, thanks,’ Kit replied, following her into the kitchen. ‘I had one with Mum. You know, Hill, you mustn’t go back to work before you’re ready,’ he went on with concern. ‘You mustn’t worry about money. I can help you out.’

  Hillie caught her breath. Oh, Kit. He was such a good man. Strong and dependable. Had been her rock. And glancing at him over her shoulder, her heart skipped for the umpteenth time.

  ‘That’s so kind of you, but we’ll be fine,’ she smiled back. ‘Joan will be job hunting when school finishes in two weeks, so her wages will help when she starts. And Trixie’s always been good at looking after the little ones, so it’ll all work out OK.’

  ‘As long as you’re sure.’ Kit still looked anxious. ‘And Hill, you’ll always come to me if you need anything, won’t you? I mean, anything at all. Not just money.’

  Hillie blinked at him. There was something in his eyes that made her heartbeat accelerate. The words flowed out of her mouth almost before she’d thought of them. If she could trust anyone in the world, it was Kit.

  ‘I want to show you something,’ she told him, and instead of sitting down, led the way into the front room. ‘Look,’ she said, opening the drawer. ‘I found these. Just two minutes ago. Sewn into the lining of Jimmy’s jacket. I think that’s what he was trying to tell me.’

  She watched Kit’s eyes widen, and then his lips pursed together as he whistled.

  ‘Blimey.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Hillie murmured. ‘What… what d’you think I should do with them?’

  She mentally crossed her fingers. Kit dealt with all sorts of merchandise coming through on freight trains. Surely he had connections with the companies involved. But… diamonds? And stolen diamonds, at that?

  ‘You’ll have to hand them in to the police,’ Kit said levelly. ‘They might be able to trace who they belong to through all the shenanigans of the trials. They’re stolen, after all.’

  Hillie sighed with reluctant relief. Yes, of course. What had she been thinking of? Trying to sell the diamonds was out of the question. Even if she knew how, the guilt would have dogged her for the rest of her life. It would have been wonderful not to have to worry about money again, mind. But as always, Kit was right.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ she muttered. ‘It was just such a shock, I couldn’t think straight. I’ll find something to put them in, and take them along to the police station.’

  ‘I’ll come with you. Maybe we should take the jacket along, too. But first,’ Kit said with a certain urgency, ‘I actually came to tell you something. I haven’t told anyone else yet. Not even Mum and Dad.’

  ‘Oh, yes?’ Hillie dragged her eyes from the diamonds, and saw that Kit’s face had moved into solemn lines. Dread took hold of her even before he spoke.

  ‘I’m leaving,’ he announced in a low, steady tone. ‘There was a job as senior clerk at a station called Edenbridge Town. It’s a small town – well, obviously it’s a town – in Kent. But it has a busy goods yard and employs several people. The senior clerk’s retiring and nobody else there is experienced enough to take over. My boss put in a good word for me, and the job’s mine. I start at the beginning of September.’

  Hillie stared at him. And her world splintered. Life… without Kit. It was inconceivable.

  ‘B-but I thought you always wanted to be station master here?’ she stammered in appalled desperation.

  But Kit shook his head. ‘That’s never going to happen. Clapham Junction’s enormous. And it’ll get bigger. I’d never be able to be my own boss, even if I did get to the top. Always answerable to the bigwigs. But at Edenbridge Town, who knows, I could be SM one day, and really happy.’

  ‘Oh, Kit.’ Hillie was too numbed to say anything more. Everything was falling apart. Her mum, Jimmy, and now Kit. Who she… she knew with certainty now… she loved. Oh, no, she couldn’t bear it.

  He was looking at her oddly, his mouth twisting. ‘The thing is,’ he hesitated, ‘you and Luke and the girls could come with me. Give you all a fresh start.’

  Hillie frowned in confusion, and then the meaning of his words came like sunlight breaking through a mist. ‘Yes,’ she articulated in a tiny whisper. There was no need even to think about it.

  ‘It’s a nice little town surrounded by countryside,’ Kit was continuing. ‘But the station’s right on the edge. The job comes with a house. There are three pairs of semis, painted white and quite attractive, but hardly a cottage with roses round the door. And they overlook the goods yard at the front and only have small backyards, but they back onto open fields.’

  ‘Yes.’ Her voice was stronger this time.

  ‘Three bedrooms, I think, but we could work that one out, I’m sure. People might assume that you and me… but they could think what they wanted. The thing is, Hill,’ Kit faltered, and she noticed colour flooding into his cheeks, ‘I’ve never said it before. And then Jimmy got there first. But… I guess I can tell you now. All I’ve ever wanted is to be with you. To look after you. And everything that’s happened to you has broken my heart.’

  He took her hands in his, and she could feel him shaking. Her own heart was soaring, spinning circles, and yet somehow she felt perfectly calm. Could it possibly be that Kit had felt the same way about her all along? The same way that she knew had been deep inside her, too, but she’d been too blind to see until it had been too late?

  She watched, joy spiralling up inside her, as he raised his eyes slowly to hers.

  ‘Hillie, this might not be the right time, but… I love you. I think I always have done. I’d understand if you didn’t want to, but I’d like you to come to Edenbridge with me, and then I can help you start a new life, get back on your feet. All I want is to see you happy. Settle down, maybe find some nice lucky chap and get married again. Have a family.’

  Hillie stared at him, losing her gaze in his. ‘Oh, Kit, that’s so typical of you,’ she whispered. ‘So unselfish. Wanting to do everything correct and proper. That’s why… why I love you, too.’ She reached up and tenderly brushed his cheek, watching the astonished expression on his face. ‘I think I always have, too, but it’s taken all this to make me realise.’

  But then Kit’s eyebrows met in a frown. ‘Are you… sure? But… Jimmy?’

  ‘I did love Jimmy, yes. But I know he wouldn’t have wanted me to be a grieving widow for the rest of my life. He thought life was for living.’

  ‘Well, in that case … If you really are sure.’ Kit dropped down on one
knee. ‘Hilda Baxter – no, let’s say Hillie Hardwick who I’ve loved for so long – will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?’

  ‘Nothing would give me greater pleasure,’ Hillie agreed, quietly and calmly. And never having felt more sure of anything in her life before. ‘Except this.’

  She took his hand, pulling him gently to his feet and tilting her head upwards. She saw the love in his eyes, and wondered how he’d managed to keep his feelings hidden. But all that could wait as his lips brushed against hers, sending shivers down her spine. His breath softly fanned her cheek before he kissed her again, gently and caressing.

  For just a second, another face swam before her, echo of another time. Another life. It smiled, giving its blessing, and then it was gone.

  A new and joyous future was waiting…

  *

  ‘You know, I think I’m going to miss this place in a strange sort of way.’

  Hillie’s gaze swept over the short street with its grander houses on one side, and humble terrace on the other. It had been her lifelong home, and now she was moving on. They’d gone to see the parish vicar straightaway, and had the banns published so that they could be married on the twenty-fourth of August, a week before Kit was due to start his new post. This would also give them plenty of time to settle into their new home with Luke and the girls who were all delighted at the idea of moving to the country as well as seeing their big sister so happy. She and Kit weren’t having a honeymoon, for surely starting their new life would be like a perpetual honeymoon, stretching before them in endless delight?

  Unlike at her previous wedding, Hillie had been surrounded by all the people she loved. If only her mum and her real dad had been there to share this most wonderful day, but somehow Hillie had the fancy that they were looking down and giving their blessing. Perhaps they’d even been reunited in some other realm.

  They’d had a small reception at the Duke of Cambridge on the corner, and now it was over, they’d called into the house for the final time to collect the last of their luggage. They stood on the pavement with Luke and the girls, waiting to say their goodbyes. The entire Parker family littered the pavement, of course, Eva dabbing at her eyes, and Rob and Belinda and their parents were there, too, and some colleagues from Price’s and from the railway station.