Yes, Mama

by Helen Forrester

  VII

  Her mind freed of financial worry, Alicia was able to establish a routine and even keep Nurse Trill reasonably satisfied.

  Polly and Fanny thankfully took their usual weekly afternoon off, and Polly suggested that Alicia should do the same, even if it were only to attend church on Sunday evening.

  ‘You don’t never get round the shops, neither, never mind church,’ Polly said. ‘You go while you’ve got the chance, duck.’ She was ironing heavy linen sheets as if her life depended upon it and she slammed the iron back on to the fire as if to emphasize her words. ‘It worries me no end, the way you bin kept in these last few years.’

  Alicia slowly digested the fact that neither of her parents was in a position to be aware of her absence. ‘What would Uncle Harold say, if he arrived and I wasn’t here?’ she asked doubtfully.

  ‘Och, him? He’s a real gentleman – remember how he allus brought you bits of chocolates when you was a kid? He’d have a fit, if he knew how you’ve bin treated since you left school. I don’t mind tellin’ ’im what a time you’ve had, if you like.’

  Alicia was so used to being confined, her biggest expedition being an occasional visit to the grocer, that it was strange to her that the cage door was suddenly open.

  Polly watched her out of the corner of her eye, as she spat on a fresh iron to make sure it was hot enough. She was relieved when Alicia said suddenly, ‘I’d love to walk down to see Aunt Sarah Webb – she’s too frail now to come over to see us.’

  A few days later, she delighted Sarah Webb with a visit, and she poured out her news of Humphrey and Elizabeth to the old lady. Elizabeth’s steady decline distressed Sarah greatly. She said sadly, ‘I’ve seen it coming for some years – but we have simply to be patient with her. It happens to all of us, sooner or later.’

  After this first plunge, Alicia took her shilling pocket money each Friday and, sometimes, spent most of it on tram fares, happy to sit on a slatted wooden seat and watch the great city go by.

  VIII

  One Friday afternoon, a letter came for Polly from Billy, and she read it while leaning against the back door jamb to get a little fresh air while she waited for the kettle to boil for Elizabeth’s and Nurse Trill’s tea trays.

  Billy wrote fairly regularly three or four times a year, but no letter had puzzled her as much as this one did, so she showed it to Alicia as soon as the girl returned, glowing, from a brisk walk in Princes Park.

  ‘He’s got ’imself a new job,’ Polly explained. ‘Workin’ with ’orses in a stable – he always did love ’orses when he were in the warehouse. Says the pedlar chap’s gone ’ome to Montreal – but he does a bit o’ peddling ’imself, still, when things is slack at the stables.’

  As Alicia began to read the badly printed letters and was amused, as usual, by the total lack of punctuation, Polly went on darkly, ‘What’s worryin’ me is he’s all mixed with them Chinamen again – he’s forever talkin’ about this man, Huang. Says he’s gone into partnership with him and put some of his savin’s into making Huang’s Café look nicer, so as to draw a family trade – and feed weddin’s and parties – says he built shelves and tables for him. Throwin’ his money down the drain workin’ with ‘eathens! Needs his head examining,’ she fulminated.

  Alicia laughed, as she turned over the page and read on. ‘Well, you never know. Perhaps there is no nice restaurant there – it could be a good idea. I see that he says his main aim is still to get a farm. He wants to run horses on it.’ She looked up at Polly. ‘Horses should be a pretty safe thing – people always need them.’

  Polly made a face. ‘He’s proper daft,’ she said, and returned to her ironing. ‘I hope he gets enough to eat.’

  ‘I expect he can always get a meal in the café.’

  ‘At the rate he’s goin’, he should stick with his stable, silly bugger. Savings is savings,’ and she thought of her sovereigns still sitting in their pillbox at the back of her dresser drawer. A lump rose in her throat at the sudden memory of Edward.

  Alicia smiled impishly at Polly’s rank disapproval and took off her hat and coat. Despite the constant worry of two sick people, she had begun to feel much better since being able to go out. She now said cheerfully, ‘I’ll take mother’s tea up, if Fanny is busy.’

  As she went upstairs with her mother’s tray, she wished she could convince Elizabeth to visit her old friend, Sarah Webb. She had tried on a number of occasions and had once got Elizabeth partly down the road towards Sarah’s house, only to have her suddenly baulk and almost panic. No amount of reminding her of her dear friend had persuaded her to go a step further. Alicia had had to bring her home.

  Despite her mother’s persistent refusals to go out, she had twice been found wandering down the street in her house slippers. Now, the front door was kept locked and the key was removed, for fear she strayed and became lost. Sometimes, she would find her way downstairs to the back garden and would meander amid its increasing wildness. Polly locked the door to the alleyway.

  When she entered the morning-room with the tea tray, she found her mother standing by the window, staring pensively out of it.

  She turned a bright face to Alicia, and inquired, ‘Have you a stamp? I must write to Andrew.’

  Alicia put the tray carefully down on to the table beside Elizabeth’s favourite chair. ‘Andrew, Mama?’

  ‘Yes, dear, Andrew Crossing.’ Then seeing the surprise on Alicia’s face, she added a trifle impatiently, ‘My lawyer. He always makes me save some of my allowance and I want to ask him to let me draw a little more from the Bank – you’re not getting enough pocket money and I want to increase it now you’re fifteen.’

  Alicia swallowed hard, and answered carefully, ‘It’s very sweet of you to think of me, Mama – but Mr Simpkins is your lawyer. Of course, he hasn’t been to see you for ages, so I’m not surprised you’ve forgotten.’

  The smile faded from Elizabeth’s face and, to Alicia’s distress, tears welled up in her mother’s eyes and rolled slowly down the fat cheeks.

  ‘Oh, Mama, don’t cry.’ Alicia eased herself round the intervening furniture, and went to put her arms round her mother. She took out her handkerchief and wiped away the tears. ‘Come and sit down, Mama, and have your tea. You’ll feel better, and if you wish we’ll send for Mr Simpkins. Who is Andrew Crossing, Mama?’

  But the curtain fell once more over Elizabeth’s mind and Alicia did not get any pocket money from her mother; the lawyers continued disinterestedly to transfer the same sum each month from the Trust established by her grandfather to her mother’s banking account, and it began to be difficult to persuade Elizabeth to write cheques to pay Miss Blossom, the old dressmaker, or for cash for her other small needs.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I

  Though it took months, Humphrey did make a partial recovery and managed to get around the house with the aid of a stick. He tried hard to deal with his affairs again and his clerk, Mr Bowring, became such a frequent visitor to the house that Alicia had a table put in the library for him to work at.

  Humphrey’s temper, never good, became worse. His irascibility sometimes reduced Polly and Alicia to tears; Fanny kept as far away from him as possible. He was frequently unpardonably rude to Elizabeth, but she would simply look at him in a bewildered fashion and it was clear that within a few minutes of his biting attacks, she had forgotten what he had said.

  His patient clerk, Mr Bowring, mindful that he was getting to the end of his own working life and that he would in old age be largely dependent upon whatever small sum Humphrey settled on him, kept very quiet and did his best to care for Humphrey’s interests and to guide him where necessary.

  When Humphrey first saw the housekeeping book, he flew into a temper at Uncle Harold’s generosity; but when his brother came from Manchester he finally accepted his explanation that there had been many unexpected expenses in connection with his illness. With some temerity, Harold pointed out to Humphrey that, in addition t
o the expenses entered in the book so meticulously by Alicia, Alicia herself needed both clothing and pocket money.

  ‘You owe your life to that girl’s patience with you,’ he said. ‘With Elizabeth sick herself, nobody in this world is going to look after you the way she does. She attains her majority this coming year and could very well leave you if she is not happy. My wife pointed out years ago that she hadn’t a decent garment to bless herself with and she’s dreadfully shabby now.’

  Harold was aware of Alicia’s likely origins, but had, in an absent-minded way, always treated her as his niece. Now he said, ‘I realize why you dislike her so, but you could regard her as a valued employee. If she left, you would have to pay heavily for someone else.’

  Humphrey saw the sense of the argument. Mr Bowring was instructed to pay Alicia a wage of eight shillings a week. Mr Bowring opened his mouth like a landed goldfish at the order, and then said quietly, ‘Yes, sir.’ Poor young lady, he ruminated; he had grown fond of Alicia.

  When he paid her, he did not humiliate her by calling the money a wage. He said kindly that her father had instructed him to see that she got some pin money each week, and she flushed with pleasure.

  Without asking permission, she continued to take Friday afternoon off and Humphrey found himself facing a frigidly polite Polly whenever he wanted something on that afternoon. Usually, he wanted to be read to, because he could not hold a book or newspaper steady and got too tired when he laid them on his desk to read. He was very angry on the first day he discovered Alicia’s absence, but Polly told him coolly, ‘I can read to you, sir.’

  He was surprised, and asked, ‘You went to school, then?’

  ‘No, sir. Mr Charles taught me when I first come here and he were a little boy.’

  ‘Well, I’m damned. Bring in the newspaper.’

  So while Fanny kept an eye on Elizabeth, Polly sat primly in the library reading aloud.

  Alicia found that there were less expensive ways of dressing oneself than going to George Henry Lee’s or to Miss Blossom. She discovered the world of Lewis’s, a department store, where for a few shillings she could buy decent blouses, hats, shoes and a thousand oddments; her newfound wealth stretched much further than she had imagined it would. She was very thankful for this, because her father had had a number of visitors during his illness and a few of these gentlemen came regularly to see him. She had had to receive them, since, as she explained, her mother was indisposed. In her shabby skirts and home-made blouses, broken shoes and general air of dishevelment, it was obvious that they had thought her to be some kind of companion-help, and their surprise at finding that she was a daughter of the house had been apparent from their expressions. She had felt hurt.

  At first, her father’s speech had been so slurred as to be unintelligible to anyone but Alicia, who was with him so much that she was able to follow what he was trying to say. Dr Willis, however, sent a middle-aged lady to see him, and, for what Humphrey regarded as a monstrous fee, she taught him how to improve his articulation. In his frustration, he used to get very angry with her, but she persisted until there was a kind of rueful friendship between them.

  On her own initiative, Alicia ordered a carriage one sunny November afternoon to drive him and her mother through the park. While Humphrey was eased into his outside clothes, he shouted at her that it was needless extravagance. Fanny helped Elizabeth into her fur coat and she wandered about the hall saying it was bedtime and too late to go out. Once out, however, they both seemed to enjoy the trip.

  Colonel Milfort watched their departure from his drawing-room window. He observed the difficulty with which Alicia managed to persuade her mother into the carriage and then hoist her stiffened father into it. He was also sorry for the girl, whose history he had heard from his batman, who had got it from Fanny.

  He limped to his desk and wrote her a note offering the loan of his carriage one afternoon a week, so that her parents might take the air in the park. His batman would be pleased to assist her father in and out of the carriage and to drive it.

  Harassed and fatigued, Alicia burst into tears when she read the stifflittle letter. She accepted the offer with alacrity, though she expected that her father would raise every objection he could think of, once he knew who had sent it. He had, however, enjoyed the outing that Alicia had arranged; it had given him a sense of assurance that he was indeed recovering his health, so he accepted Colonel Milfort’s offer quite gracefully and instructed Mr Bowring to write him a note of thanks. The Colonel was surprised to receive the following Christmas from a grateful Alicia a hand-embroidered desk blotter, which she had worked during long hours of watching her mother.

  ‘Well, damn me!’ exclaimed the Colonel, running his fingers over the elaborate workmanship which held the blotting paper in place. He shook it free of its enveloping tissue paper and stumped slowly upstairs to show it to his friend, Major Ferguson, who was lying comfortably on a sofa in the drawing-room window.

  The house on the other side of Humphrey’s residence was put up for sale on instructions from the heir to the owner; according to Fanny, the heir lived in Jamaica and had no intentions of living in Liverpool. It was bought by a well-to-do carriagemaker, a tradesman called Hunter.

  ‘Proper nice old girl, that Mrs Hunter next door is,’ opined Polly, as she heaved a steak and kidney pudding out of a steaming pan of water. ‘She’d be good for your Mam.’

  ‘Mama and Papa wouldn’t wish to know them, Pol. They’re in trade, not commerce.’

  ‘’Strewth!’ exclaimed Polly in disgust, but said no more.

  One day in January, however, when the sun was gleaming softly between the forests of smoking chimney-stacks and when Alicia was about to pass Mrs Hunter’s front steps, the lady had just descended from her truly magnificent pale green carriage. Beaming, she left her groom and rolled gently towards the younger woman, to inquire anxiously how her dear father was. They had, she said, seen Dr Willis’s brougham regularly at the Woodmans’ door.

  Alicia was surprised to find that this exuberant lady knew a great deal about her parents and herself, forgetting that Fanny and Polly would indubitably gossip with the maids next door. Made nervous by this sudden revelation, Alicia retreated as gracefully as she could.

  Not only did Mrs Hunter wish to ingratiate herself with the ladies in her new neighbourhood, she was also very kind. Armed with a large bunch of grapes for the invalid, she ventured to call on Alicia.

  Not sure what to do with her, Polly took her upstairs to the cold, dusty drawing-room, and called Alicia. Alicia explained that her mother was indisposed and unable to receive visitors. She asked Polly to bring tea.

  Mrs Hunter stayed half an hour during which time Elizabeth wandered in to join them. Seeing a lady dressed in hat and gloves for visiting, Elizabeth automatically dropped into the role of hostess; it was obvious, however, that she could not keep track of the conversation. Alicia was embarrassed, but Mrs Hunter gave no hint that she realized that all was not well with Elizabeth.

  She told her amused husband afterwards, ‘I’ve never seen such a dismal house. Hasn’t bin painted in years. And it was that cold – no fire in the drawing-room! Can you believe it? And her poor mother’s out of her mind – non compos mentis. Between her Ma and her Pa, I don’t know how that girl stands it.’

  Mr Hunter turned a page of his newspaper. ‘So you saw Mrs Woodman? And Woodman?’

  ‘No. According to his daughter, he’s up and about, though. I saw him once, driving in the park.’

  ‘Well, I’m glad I was wrong when I said you’d be snubbed,’ he responded.

  After her visit, Mrs Hunter always stopped to chat when she saw Alicia, and one day asked her to come in for tea. Alicia refused, but explained that it was not because she did not want to; she was simply so busy. She began to enjoy these small encounters with her neighbours, and was quite vivacious with Colonel Milfort and his friend, Major Ferguson, when they paused in their afternoon perambulations, to inquire after Mr Woodm
an.

  For the first Christmas after Humphrey’s stroke, Florence brought her maturing brood for Christmas tea rather than to midday dinner. ‘It will save you having to cook so much,’ she told Alicia. The visit was, however, quite hectic, and Frank was unsubtly spiteful to Alicia. Clarence spent half an hour with a barely coherent Humphrey, talking about the need for new choir-stalls for his church – woodworm had badly damaged the present ones.

  Blithely indifferent to who cooked it or what the menu was, Charles shared a roast capon with Alicia and their mother at midday dinner and stayed on for tea. Alicia cut up some of the meat very small and fed Humphrey in his bedroom. He was propped up in an easy chair beside the bed.

  Immediately after tea, Charles left to catch the train for London where he would stay with friends. It was he, however, who suggested that the library was large enough to be adapted as a bedroom for Humphrey, to save running up and down stairs.

  Dr Willis saw the convenience of this suggestion and Humphrey liked the idea of being amongst his books and papers again, so a vast amount of furniture-shifting was done by Polly, Fanny and Alicia, including a commode and wash-stand which were concealed behind a folding screen near to the bed.

  Being on the ground floor of the house undoubtedly encouraged Humphrey in his efforts to walk again. Fires in the morning-room and the dining-room, added to the blaze in the library, kept the whole area fairly warm, and he began to set goals for himself, to reach the chair by the door, then the chair in the hall, then to cross the hall. Once or twice, he fell and bruised himself, but after Dr Willis had warned him that he might break a bone, he would ring furiously for Polly or Alicia to help him to move about.