The Postmistress

by Maggie Sullivan

  When he saw her draw a deep breath he thought she was going to refuse but then, to his surprise, she blushed and for a moment he even thought he saw her eyes sparkle. ‘After tea, do you mean?’

  Roger nodded. ‘It needn’t be for very long if you’re worried about leaving your father …’

  ‘No, that’s not it; his cough’s not been too bad of late. It’s just that I’ve had a busy day.’

  ‘Then a gentle walk might be exactly what you need. Besides, there’s something I wanted to discuss with you,’ Roger said.

  Vicky looked startled. ‘If it’s that important then I’m sure I could manage half an hour,’ she said.

  ‘Great, then I’ll come back to pick you up about eight.’

  Roger hadn’t realised how closely they were walking together, their hands almost touching, until he saw Vicky take a deliberate step away. She didn’t say anything but continued walking.

  ‘You must be wondering what I want to talk to you about?’ Roger waited until they reached the towpath and were walking beside the river.

  Vicky looked up at him expectantly and he suddenly felt uncertain.

  ‘Is everything all right with Julie?’ Vicky asked.

  ‘Yes, thanks, she’s fine,’ he said, grateful that she had unwittingly given him an opening. ‘It’s not Julie I wanted to talk to you about,’ he said. ‘It’s Ruby Bowdon.’

  Vicky frowned. ‘Ruby? Is she all right? I heard she’d had a bit of a setback recently.’ Vicky stopped walking and turned to face him, her eyes anxiously scanning his.

  ‘She’s better now. It seems to have been something and nothing, thank goodness. Tell me, how well do you know her?’ They set off walking again.

  ‘As well as I know any of the local kids. They’re in and out of all the shops on the parade on weekends and after school, generally making a nuisance of themselves. They’re high-spirited as Violet Pegg always says, and she should know. Why do you ask?’

  ‘Because Ruby’s leaving school very soon. Her parents seem to expect her to work with them selling green-groceries, but I get the impression she doesn’t really want to.’

  ‘What does she want to do?’

  ‘That’s the problem; I’m not sure she knows, but I promised I would scout around to see if there might be something better she might like to do.’

  ‘And you thought of the Post Office?’ Vicky said.

  Roger grinned. ‘Am I that obvious?’

  ‘In this circumstance, yes.’

  ‘I know you’ve been thinking of trying to get some extra help to take over from your father,’ Roger said, ‘and I wondered …’

  ‘That’s true, but would Ruby want to do that kind of work? It can be pretty hard as there are so many different things to do and it’s not always easy to keep switching, you know; there’s such a lot to learn.’

  ‘Her options are going to be somewhat restricted …’ Roger began. ‘Not that I’m trying to sell you a pig in a poke, because I sincerely believe she’ll be a hard worker.’

  ‘I take it her leg is not going to get much better?’

  ‘Not significantly, no. She’ll have to learn to work round it, as it were, and I thought the Post Office could be ideal. Not too far to stretch, no stairs to negotiate, and I presume she could probably sit down for large parts of the day?’

  ‘Possibly some parcels to heave about ready for collection, but that’s not insurmountable.’ Vicky looked thoughtful. ‘Any idea what she’s been like in school?’

  ‘I’ve no first-hand knowledge though she’s always struck me as being quite bright. I’m sure you could get a reference from Mrs Diamond or whoever her last teacher is.’

  They had reached the munitions factory where stragglers from the early evening shift were still drifting homeward.

  ‘Thank you for thinking of me, that really is very kind and I’ll certainly …’

  ‘I’m glad to be able to help,’ he said and for a moment took hold of both of her hands, hoping he could get her to meet his gaze. But she looked away and for a moment neither spoke.

  ‘Do you want me to say anything to her?’ Roger asked finally and he let her hands drop.

  Vicky cleared her throat. ‘I wonder if it might be more appropriate for me to approach her? Though I would tell her it was your idea.’

  ‘That sounds good; after all, you know more about the job than I do.’ He grinned. ‘Let me know what happens when you’ve had a chat.’

  Chapter 12

  The more Claire became embedded in the Barker household, the more she began to question whether she had done the right thing in coming all this way to be with people who were tantamount to strangers, even though her mother insisted on calling them ‘her family’. There was no denying that she enjoyed working in Aunty Sylvia’s shop and she was grateful to her aunt for giving her the opportunity to develop her own sewing and knitting initiatives. That was something she would never have been allowed to do at home and she appreciated Sylvia entrusting her with what she considered to be such grown-up responsibility. Aunty Sylvia had done her best to make Claire feel at home; Claire knew that. She was kind and generous and she always tried to be helpful, but somehow their association had not progressed beyond the superficial. Whenever she was alone with her aunt, or her cousin for that matter, she still worried that somehow they didn’t feel like real family.

  The main problem was Rosie, who never passed up a chance to remind Claire how much she resented having to share her bedroom, and try as she might, Claire never felt able to make a true connection with her cousin. In addition, it had come as a shock to discover that neither Sylvia nor Rosie shared her religious beliefs and she wondered why her mother had never seen fit to mention this before she came. Hannah must have known that Sylvia had renounced any religious affiliation when she had married outside of the Jewish faith, something that was frowned upon in the religious community Claire had grown up in. Indeed, it was the only explanation for why her mother had never met Sylvia’s husband but it wasn’t something Claire had ever been able to discuss with her aunt.

  Uncle Archie was more distant – a shadowy figure even within his own household. Claire had met him briefly on only a few occasions and from the little she had seen of him he seemed to be a complete enigma. He was rarely at home, was referred to infrequently, and it seemed that neither Sylvia nor Claire saw much of him either. He stayed in rented digs in Derbyshire during the week when he was working and even some weekends when he was not. At first Claire had thought it might be her fault and that he objected to having a stranger living under his roof, but as time went on she began to doubt if that were true, though she didn’t feel it was something she could talk about with Rosie or Sylvia.

  The only place Claire heard mention of Archie’s name was when she’d overheard gossip about him – which she had on more than one occasion – when she had been out shopping locally. Most of it implied that he drank too much, that he was quick to lose his temper – and even worse, that he actually hit his wife. But mostly these were isolated whispers, fragments that she had not been able to string together into a coherent whole, because people usually stopped talking as soon as they realised she was there. Not that she’d ever seen any evidence of such behaviour when Archie was home, though she wasn’t sure she would always know what signs to look for. She had never seen anyone who had drunk too much nor witnessed anyone being slapped about except by a teacher in school.

  She tried to imagine what Archie might be like if he were totally inebriated and out of control, but she had no experience of what the consequences of such overindulgence might be. She thought of her own father, a gentle man who never drank anything except a small ritual glass of sweet wine on a Friday night after the benediction of the Sabbath and occasionally a tot of whisky if he was invited to someone’s special celebrations after the service in the synagogue on a Saturday morning; neither her mother or father had ever raised a hand in anger. Besides, if her mother had had any knowledge of such wild behaviour then sur
ely she wouldn’t have let her daughter come all this way to live with them, no matter how much she feared the bombs that were threatening London in the event of war? Claire felt trapped in a difficult situation and she didn’t know what to do. She wrote letters home each week but was careful not to mention any of her concerns. She didn’t want to be seen telling tales and there was no point in having her mother worry about something she couldn’t change.

  Now that the days were longer and the weather was fine, Claire sometimes took a walk after tea so that she could enjoy the country air. It smelled so much fresher and cleaner than the air in London. Rosie always seemed to find some excuse for not joining her but as Claire had made at least one new friend she tried not to be a nuisance to her cousin.

  When Rosie came home one night, excited about the funfair that had opened recently in the local park and to which she’d been once already, Claire thought it sounded like fun and was pleased when Sylvia suggested that she and Rosie should go to it together as Claire had never been to one before.

  ‘Yeah, she could probably come with me sometime,’ Rosie said, ‘but not tonight as I’ve already promised to go with friends from work and they wouldn’t take kindly to other people muscling in.’

  ‘How long will the fair be here?’ Claire asked.

  Rosie gave a shrug of her shoulders. ‘Dunno. But I’ll let you know what night I’m free.’ Then, ‘Gosh, is that the time?’ Rosie said. ‘I’ve got to get going,’ and she pulled out her coat from under a pile on the bannister. ‘I’d better get off; I’m already late. See you later.’ And she slipped out of the house and disappeared.

  ‘Oh, the wretched girl, she can be so thoughtless.’ Sylvia watched her go. ‘Claire, why don’t you go after her? If I know her she’s probably meeting Penny and her sister and I’m sure they won’t object to you joining in.’

  ‘Oh, do you think that would be all right? I don’t want to upset Rosie.’

  ‘But you’re friends with Penny; Rosie’s probably forgotten,’ Sylvia assured her. ‘No, you go. If you go straightaway you can catch them up before they get to the park.

  ‘If you really think I should?’ Claire said, as she rescued her own coat from the pile on the bannister.

  ‘Definitely, now shoo, and have a lovely time,’ Sylvia said.

  Claire walked briskly in the direction of the park and found the funfair easily enough but there was no sign of Rosie and she lost heart and gave up hope of finding her as she wandered up and down the aisles of dried mud that divided the field. She stopped each time she came across a group of young girls chattering and laughing but there was no sign of Rosie and Claire began to feel dejected. Although the stalls were exactly as Rosie had described them, she had omitted to mention the fact that everything cost money and she looked down miserably at the few pennies she had in her pocket. It would seem wasteful to throw them away on a slot machine, or to shoot at a row of mechanical ducks. The only thing that did attract her was the dodgem cars and she stood watching them wistfully, not wanting to try them on her own.

  ‘Claire?’ She turned round when she heard someone call her name and to her great relief found she had come face to face with Penny and her sister Stella. ‘I thought it was you – but what are you doing here by yourself?’ Penny asked.

  Claire’s gaze darted beyond the two girls, though she still couldn’t see her cousin. ‘I’ve been looking for Rosie, but it seems I’ve missed her, somehow.’ She gave a self-conscious laugh. ‘She came out before me and I thought she was meeting up with you.’

  ‘No, she’s not with us tonight,’ Stella said. ‘Which direction did she go?’

  ‘I don’t know, that’s the problem,’ Claire said.

  ‘Oh well, never mind, you’re with us now,’ Penny said and the sisters linked arms with Claire.

  ‘So come on, get some speed up. Are we going on the dodgems or not?’ Stella asked. ‘At this rate they’ll be closing up before we’ve had a chance to go on anything.’

  ‘Of course we are, I wouldn’t miss the dodgems for the world,’ Penny said. ‘What do you say, Claire?’

  ‘I’d love to. I thought they looked like fun though I’ve never been on them before.’

  ‘Then come with us, lass,’ Penny said heartily. ‘They really are great. Stella can go in one car because she much prefers to drive on her own and you and me can go together in another one. I’ll show you what to do.’ And before Claire could protest, Penny had persuaded her to part with one of her precious pennies and she was bumping and weaving and being swung from side to side as the cars violently collided. They were all laughing and trying to catch their breath by the time the bell sounded to signal the end of their ride and Claire couldn’t remember when she had had such a good time. After that she was happy just to look at all the stalls, though she was persuaded to buy some candyfloss.

  ‘I really enjoyed that,’ Claire said, wiping the wisps of sugary cotton from her mouth. ‘I’m so glad I bumped into you – quite literally.’ They all laughed. ‘Thanks very much for letting me join you.’

  ‘It was our pleasure,’ Penny said. ‘We enjoyed it too. And we can do it again sometime because the fair will be here for a while. But I suppose for now it’s time to go home, whether we want to or not.’ She pointed to the stallholders who were beginning to close up their booths.

  It was rapidly getting dark and the lights of the fair were winking out one by one.

  ‘Why don’t you come back home with us, Claire, for a cup of tea,’ Penny said.

  ‘Good idea,’ Stella said. ‘It’ll give me a proper chance to get to know you at last.’

  ‘That’s very kind, but my aunt will worry if I stop out too late,’ Claire said.

  ‘You can drop in there first and tell her where you are, then she won’t be concerned,’ Penny suggested.

  ‘Thanks, then I will,’ Claire said, and she felt a warm glow with the excitement of meeting up with her two new friends.

  It wasn’t until they had exited the park through the double wooden gates that Claire realised that they were not the same gates she had entered and that she didn’t actually know where she was. She stood for a moment staring at the brick wall that surrounded the entire park. It looked no different from the wall that enclosed her local Gladstone Park in Cricklewood, and for a moment she shivered with a sudden flash of homesickness. But she had no time for that; they needed to get home. The streets were deserted now and the girls used their torches that they pointed downwards, although the diffused beams were so weak in the crepuscular light that it wasn’t easy to see where they were going and Claire was glad they hadn’t left her on her own to find her way own way home.

  It had been fun being with the Downs sisters, Claire decided, when it was time for her to go home. She knew that Rosie had had words with Penny in the past, although she didn’t know what about, but she had enjoyed getting to know them and they had chatted together companionably for the rest of the evening. Perhaps it was fortunate that she hadn’t found Rosie, though she did wonder what had happened to her cousin and she hoped she was all right.

  ‘Do you need an escort or do you think you can find your own way home from here?’ Penny joked when Claire finally got up to leave. ‘It’s all of four shops down. But take care and we’ll see you soon. Perhaps we can go to the pictures together next time?’ Stella called after her.

  ‘Yes, please,’ Claire agreed and she walked away smiling. Up ahead she could see a young couple, arms linked, weaving an unsteady path along the pavement and the thought crossed her mind that it might be the consequence of someone having had too much to drink. She could hear the couple’s laughter as they kept stumbling into each other and then rolling apart. As she came closer, the light breeze that was coming off the water wafted the smoke from their cigarettes in her direction and, despite being outdoors, it made her splutter and cough. Claire walked slowly, not wanting to overtake them. But the young couple stopped suddenly when they almost bumped into a lamppost on the street corne
r and Claire stopped too. None of the lamps in the street had been lit for some reason and she peered into the darkness, hoping the scant moonlight would illuminate the Knit and Sew shop’s banner. She could see that the couple had stopped outside the Post Office and, having extinguished their cigarettes they turned towards each other to kiss. As they did so, a small cloud flitted away from the narrow crescent of the moon and Claire could see quite clearly that she had finally found Rosie.

  Chapter 13

  Ruby had fallen in love with Dr Buckley the first time he had attended her bedside, though she would never have had the courage to tell him that at the tender age of eleven. But now, as far as she was concerned, he was her hero. He had saved her life twice – and any man who did that deserved her undying love, particularly a doctor as handsome and as kind as Roger Buckley. The first time he had saved her was when he had personally rushed her into hospital with suspected polio. She hadn’t been able to breathe and his prompt actions had ensured that she was hooked up to an iron lung as quickly as possible. And then he had saved her again the other night when he had sat up with her parents for most of the night until he was certain she was out of danger and didn’t need to go to the hospital. Was there ever such a wonderful man on this earth?

  And now Ruby was excited because he had promised to look out for a job for her and she knew that she would be forever in his debt.

  Ruby had always hoped she might be able to stay on at school, maybe undertake a teacher’s training course so that she could go to work in the village school as Violet Pegg had done. But she had missed so many classes in the years she had been ill that her teacher, Mrs Diamond, had advised her to leave because it would take her too long to catch up the months of schoolwork she had missed.

  ‘You need to be considering other options and I’m sure there are lots of things you could do,’ Mrs Diamond had counselled, and Ruby realised, with much reluctance, that she would have to be sensible and realistic and put aside her dreams. Her brothers were much younger and it would be some time before they were ready to take on the mantle of the family’s greengrocery business; in the meantime, she knew that her parents were keen for her to work with them in the shop. It was a kind and well-meant offer and she knew they would spare her some of the more arduous tasks, such as having to go to the market to pick up fresh produce in the early hours of the morning. But it also meant that she would never be independent and free. Helpful as it seemed to be offered a job that she could begin immediately, she didn’t want to be tied to them or committed to selling fruit and vegetables for the rest of her life without being able to consider any other options. The trouble was, she didn’t know how to tell them.