by Carol Rivers
‘The front door’s been open,’ Rose shrugged. ‘But I didn’t hear anything.’
‘I don’t know how you can keep so calm.’
‘I’m not,’ Rose admitted. ‘Inside I’m all of a shake.’
‘Do you think they were watching, waiting for you to go out?’
Rose shrugged. ‘I saw a car at the top of the road. It was just parked there as if the driver was . . . well, on the lookout for something or someone.’ She stopped, not wanting to accuse the person or persons without proof, yet she was almost certain now that the occupants of that car had been responsible for this deed.
‘Shouldn’t you tell the police?’
‘What could they do?’ Rose asked as she walked into the hall and stepped carefully over the broken china. ‘I’ve had enough of their big feet traipsing all over this house. As I told you in my letters, I never want to see a policeman under my roof again.’ She could well do without an inquisition by the police. Five hundred pounds was a fortune in her book and no doubt in theirs. She couldn’t explain where it had come from nor where it might have gone to.
‘Yes, yes of course,’ her sister agreed in a small voice as Rose closed the front door. ‘Do you think the burglar went upstairs?’
‘There’s only one way to find out.’ Rose pulled back her shoulders and they ascended the stairs in silence.
‘Oh no!’ Em’s voice shrank to a whisper as they walked in the small bedroom. It took all Rose’s strength not to weep at the sight of the girls’ mattresses. Just like the couch, someone had ripped away with a sharp implement exposing the horsehair inside.
‘These were our mattresses as kids,’ Rose murmured, wondering if she possessed a needle and thread strong enough to repair the damage.
Em nodded, trailing her fingers over the rough edges. ‘They survived the Blitz even. Mum and Dad carried them downstairs to put over the table before we had the shelter.’
‘How could they do such things to children’s beds?’ Rose questioned fiercely. ‘They couldn’t have had hearts.’
‘It’s downright malicious,’ Em agreed hoarsely.
‘I’m beginning to get angry now.’ Rose turned to lead the way to her bedroom. It was as if these people had not only stolen Eddie’s savings, but intentionally violated their home, too.
‘They’ve done the same in here,’ Em said faintly as they stood on the landing staring in. ‘Oh Rose, they’re monsters.’
At the sight of her big double mattress all ripped and torn Rose wished she could humiliate these sick people as she felt humiliated, degrade them in a way that removed all power from their thieving, brutal hands.
Rose walked slowly in. All the drawers of her dressing table were open.
‘Your underwear, Rosy! To think they’ve touched your knickers.’
Rose replaced her belongings, trying to hide her anger. She went down on her knees. All Eddie’s socks in the bottom drawer were pushed to one side. The navy blue pair were still rolled in a ball. She pulled them apart with fingers that shook so much she could hardly control them. Lo and behold the little string of pearls slithered down on her palm.
‘Mum’s matching necklace to my earrings,’ Em whispered as the necklace glowed softly in the daylight.
Rose nodded. ‘They’re safe, Em, and that’s all that counts.’ Rose knew in her heart that if she’d had to choose between the money and the necklace, there would have been no contest. The pearls meant more to her than any amount of money, even though they were probably worth very little.
‘It’s a good hiding place.’ Em stroked the silky smooth surfaces that had once hung so attractively around their mother’s neck. ‘Aren’t they beautiful?’
Rose nodded, holding back the tears. ‘Just like she was.’
‘Eddie would have done better to hide his money in his socks,’ Em said as she sank down beside Rose.
‘And I should have thought to take the key off the string,’ Rose said wearily. ‘But it didn’t cross me mind.’
‘Keys on strings are part of everyday life round here,’ Em said with a shrug.
‘We always did it and it’s a hard habit to break,’ Rose nodded as she replaced the pearls and sat back on her heels. ‘I’ll have to tidy up before the girls come home.’
‘Why don’t we put covers on the mattresses and couch for now? We can mend them later,’ Em suggested.
Rose nodded slowly. ‘Yes, I’ve got some old blankets in the cupboard which would do.’
‘And Will can make use of himself and sweep up the china, can’t you, love?’
The ten-year-old had been silent up till now and Rose looked up at him. ‘Will, I don’t want the girls to know about this,’ she said gently. ‘It might frighten them.’
‘I won’t tell them.’
‘That’s very grown up of you. Can it be our secret?’
The boy nodded solemnly.
His mother lifted her hand to his shoulder and sighed. ‘He’s good at secrets is our Will.’
Rose didn’t know what her sister meant but she could guess that a great deal had gone on in their lives before leaving Eastbourne.
‘Mum, I want to go,’ he said looking at Em under his fair lashes. ‘I’m bursting.’
‘Do you remember where the toilet is?’
Will shook his head.
‘No, well, you were very young when we last paid Auntie Rose a visit.’ Em gestured to the door. ‘Downstairs, in the backyard you’ll find the washhouse. It’s a little shed and the toilet’s in it.’ After he’d gone, she sighed. ‘That takes me back, Rosy. We didn’t think anything of going outside for a wee, summer and winter alike. Sometimes our bums froze to the seat.’
Rose was thinking the same. ‘I still cut up squares of newspaper to tie on the back of the door.’
Em was shaking her head as if in a daze. ‘I’ve been living the life of Lady Muck, enjoying all that Arthur provided and forgetting my roots. This is who I am, Emily Read of forty-six Ruby Street, a two up and two downer, and I should have been proud of the fact.’
Rose was shocked to hear her sister speak in such a way. ‘Em, whatever do you mean?’
‘Just what I say. All these years you’ve been struggling, making ends meet and don’t deny it, I know you have. And there’s me, pretending to own a posh house and going out shopping and wearing nice new clothes as if money was no object at all. But in my heart I knew it was wrong. I knew it was a sin.’
Rose stared at her sister. ‘That’s ridiculous, Em. You deserved a good life, you’re a good woman.’
Em turned to her as a little tear trickled down her cheek. ‘You don’t know the half of it.’
‘Then why don’t you tell me?’ Rose said gently as her sister drew out a hanky again.
‘I would if I could stop crying.’
Rose reached out and pulled the stiff little body against her. ‘You’ll stop crying all right. And when you do I’ll be here for you, and just as always we’ll find a way out of all our troubles, both yours and mine. Now, how about a quick tidy before I meet the girls?’
Her sister nodded and pushed herself away. ‘Just like old times,’ she said with a hitch in her voice.
Rose nodded. ‘Just like old times.’
Rose was deep in thought as she walked to school. Every penny of Eddie’s savings was gone. What was she going to do? The answer to her problems was to find a job for without any money they were certainly on the breadline. What would Eddie say when she told him? Well, she wasn’t going to. At least, not yet. First things first. There was only one way to pay the rent and fill the larder. She’d have to get a job – and quickly.
The ice cream man sitting on his gaily-coloured pedaltrike whizzed by. She hoped they didn’t bump into him on the way home as the girls would ask for their favourite ice cream cornets. What would she do on Sunday when Barney came round with his handcart? She always bought a bag of winkles for Sunday tea. It was more a ritual than a meal. A whole hour was taken up with the fun of piercing the
little black eyes and curling the winkles on a pin. It would be those little treats that would be denied to them and she grieved their loss.
But there was no use fretting, she told herself robustly. And ten minutes later she was standing at the school gate with a smile plastered across her face. ‘Auntie Em and your cousin Will have come to stay with us,’ she told the girls as they rushed out, all eager beavers today.
‘Are they sad about Uncle Arthur?’ Donnie asked at once.
‘A little. But we’ll cheer them up, won’t we?’
‘What’s Will like?’ Marlene was curious as usual.
‘He’s a very nice boy,’ Rose assured her as she gathered the pieces of paper on which they had drawn and coloured during their lessons.
‘As long as he ain’t bossy,’ Marlene decided and skipped the rest of the way home.
There were lots of hugs and kisses in the front room on their return. ‘Are you me real cousin?’ Marlene sat on the newly covered couch staring intently at her bemused relative.
He nodded, adjusting to the glare of Marlene’s wild brown eyes assessing him under a cloud of vivid red hair.
‘You don’t talk much, do you?’
‘He can’t get a word in edgeways, that’s why,’ Donnie said jumping to the rescue.
Marlene scowled. ‘Well you ask him something, then.’
‘All right.’ Donnie was all light and sweetness. ‘Do you like arithmetic?’
‘Yes,’ he nodded. ‘It’s me favourite.’
‘Good. You can do me homework for me then,’ Marlene grinned.
‘No he can’t,’ Donnie objected haughtily. ‘That’s cheating.’
‘It ain’t, not if I couldn’t do it in the first place. Miss won’t have to write so many red crosses will she?’ They all began laughing and Rose knew the children would get on like a house on fire, something of an achievement it had to be said, after the events of the day.
Supper consisted of thick wedges of bread, bloater paste, corned beef and a slice of Em’s own homemade fruitcake that she had brought with her in the heavy bag. After everyone had stuffed themselves full, the girls wheeled Will out to meet their friends and Em and Rose sat drinking tea.
‘They’re lovely girls,’ Em commented. ‘You and Eddie have done yourselves proud.’
‘I just wish he was here,’ Rose murmured softly as she twisted the teacup between her fingers. ‘Still, he isn’t and I ain’t gonna moan about it.’ She looked up and caught her sister watching her. ‘Was Arthur ill before his heart attack?’
Em’s mouth twitched. ‘No, it was quick,’ she said offhandedly.
Rose sighed. ‘How dreadful for you.’
‘Dreadful? Merciful, you mean.’ Her sister’s voice was bitter.
‘Em, what do you mean?’
‘It’s the truth, Rosy.’ Her face went very pink and her eyes shifted this way and that. ‘I couldn’t have stood living with him any longer.’
Rose gasped. ‘But you and Arthur were happy!’
‘You don’t know the half,’ her sister burst out as she gripped the table and her knuckles showed white. ‘No one knows what goes on in other people’s lives.’
Rose had always thought that Arthur, despite his righteous ideas and his stuffiness, had provided a comfortable life for his family, a lovely home by the sea and no money worries for his wife.
Em looked down at her hands. ‘If you’ve been wondering why you weren’t asked to his funeral, it’s because there wasn’t one. At least, not in church.’
‘But wasn’t Arthur a member of St John’s?’ Rose asked in surprise. ‘I’ve still got that picture you sent me of him standing next to the vicar in his black gown at his investiture as choir master.’
‘You can tear it up and burn the pieces,’ Em said vehemently as she hid her face behind her hands, little sobs shaking her body. For a while Rose sat there, wondering what terrible events had befallen Em to make her so unhappy. They were not tears of grief falling from her eyes, Rose understood that now, but because she was ignorant of the cause of her sister’s pain she didn’t know what to say.
Eventually Em sat back, her body slack against the chair. Silence enveloped them and Rose studied the ravaged face in front of her, a shadow of the pretty young girl her sister had once been.
As if coming out of a deep trance Em stared around the kitchen. ‘Do you remember our strip washes at the sink?’ she asked so softly Rose almost didn’t hear. ‘It was so cold in here we had goose bumps the size of St Paul’s. I longed for Dad to drag in the old tin bath and tip in the saucepans of hot water that made all the condensation drip from the windows so that we could draw pictures on them with our fingers. That was lovely. I can still feel the warmth now, the smell of soap . . . Sunlight, wasn’t it . . . that Mum used?’
Rose nodded as the pleasurable memory engulfed her. ‘Yes, and afterwards when we were all dry and wrapped in our dressing gowns, you’d sit on my bed and read me a story from Grimm’s. Your voice lulled me off to sleep, you know.’
Em’s eyes were faraway. ‘Mum let me have a go on the Singer if you went off quick enough. Well, you were only six and I was twelve. I could make a dress at that age, in fact I did, for both of us.’
Rose smiled faintly. ‘You were so good at sewing.’
‘Mum taught me everything I know.’
‘I was like Marlene, impatient to get things done, but you took your time, even when the bobbin kept sticking and breaking the cotton, you’d just wind it all through again.’
Silence descended once more until Em shifted on her seat and said in a resigned voice, ‘Oh Rosy, I’m such a coward.’
Another statement that shocked Rose. ‘What on earth do you mean, Em?’
‘Look at you after all that’s happened. Eddie in prison, the burglary, me turning up with all me troubles and you haven’t shed a tear.’
‘Oh yes I have. Plenty of them.’
But Em wouldn’t have it. ‘I’m weak, I’ve always been weak.’
‘Stop it, Em, you’re talking daft. You’ve lived through a war and survived it and whatever happened between you and Arthur, well, you survived that too.’
‘I’m not sure that I have.’ Em’s bottom lip wobbled. ‘Look at me, I’m a wreck.’
‘If you say that again I’m gonna scream. Now let’s talk about something nice and practical,sleeping arrangements for instance.’
Her sister smiled faintly. ‘Me and Will can sleep on the floor.’
‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ Rose said firmly. ‘We can sleep in my double and Will can have the camp bed which will fit nicely by the wall in the girls’ room. Though of course, thinking about it, a boy of ten would probably need his privacy. If so, the front room will be better.’
‘He’d like to be with the girls I think, at least for the first couple of nights. Sometimes . . . well, sometimes he wakes up. He has bad dreams.’
‘Poor little lad,’ Rose said, dreading to think what the dreams consisted of. ‘Well, he won’t feel alone with Marlene, I can tell you that for certain. In fact, she’ll probably cure him of nightmares keeping him awake all the time.’
‘You know the last time I saw Marle was when she was ten months old,’ Em said faintly, her eyes misting again. ‘Arthur drove us down for the day, remember?’ Her bottom lip quivered and Rose spoke quickly.
‘Will was what? Five?’
‘Yes, he’d just started school.’
‘Donnie would have been nearly three. It’s unbelievable, isn’t it?’
Em nodded slowly, then giving a deep sigh she picked up her little black bag from beside the chair. ‘Now, I’ll give you some housekeeping.’
‘But you’ve only just arrived,’ Rose said, embarrassed.
‘And I don’t expect charity,’ her sister said with a big sniff. ‘Here’s five pounds. I can well afford it.’
Rose hesitated, embarrassed again. Five pounds would go a long way to stocking the larder, but could her sister really afford it?
> Em looked into her eyes. ‘I’ve got Arthur’s pension, you know. At least they didn’t stop that. Now take it.’
Once again not understanding her sister’s comment, Rose reluctantly accepted the five pounds. She had to feed them and she couldn’t perform miracles. Perhaps when she was working she could repay the money. ‘Actually, I’m looking for a job,’ she said as she tucked the money into her own purse and slipped it into her bag.
Em stared at her. ‘Really?’
Rose flushed under her sister’s scrutiny. ‘I know what you’re going to say. That Eddie never liked the thought of me working and it’s true he didn’t. But circumstances have changed, haven’t they? And most women round here work part time at least.’
‘But it’s the holidays coming up. What are you going to do with the girls?’
Rose repeated her little mantra. ‘If I find a cleaning job, I can take them in with me. I’ve seen the cleaners at school and they take their kids who wait in a classroom or playground. The same happens in offices and factories when the staff aren’t there.’
Her sister sat up eagerly. ‘Rosy, what if I looked after the children for you? It would be one way of repaying your kindness. And you know they’d be safe with me.’
It was dawning slowly on Rose that her sister and nephew’s visit was going to be of some duration, not just a few days or even weeks. She couldn’t help asking, ‘But what about Eastbourne, your home and all your friends?’
Em looked at her solemnly, her big hazel brown eyes fluttering as she tried to form the words that she had resisted saying all day. ‘I . . . I haven’t got any friends, none at all after what’s happened. And I haven’t got a home, either. All we have is the clothes we stand up in and those we brought with us in the bag.’
Once again Rose couldn’t believe what she was hearing. ‘What happened to your lovely house by the sea?’
‘My lovely house, as you put it, was never Arthur’s property despite how he lied about owning it.’
‘But I thought Arthur said he bought it outright?’ Rose still recalled the endless hours of lecturing Arthur had given them on his house purchase before they moved to Eastbourne. The lectures that Eddie had found too much to swallow and for which he had disliked his brother-in-law.