A Sister's Duty

by June Francis

  The door was flung open and Rosie entered. She knelt in front of Amelia and pulled her hands away. ‘What’s going on? What’s happened? Chris has slammed out of the house and Dotty’s crying that much, I can’t get any sense out of her. Did Chris do something to her?’

  ‘He said not,’ said Amelia, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘Where’s Peter?’ Her voice was unsteady.

  ‘Trying to get the twins to go back to sleep, but they’re kicking up a fuss.’

  ‘Damn!’ muttered her aunt, getting wearily off the bed. ‘What should I do?’

  ‘About the twins, Dotty, Chris or me?’

  ‘I must get Peter to go after him . . .’

  Rosie laughed. ‘You’re crazy! This whole house has gone crazy! But our Dotty might get some sense into her head if Chris isn’t here, and you and Uncle Peter can settle down too. He certainly didn’t want you two happy.’

  ‘I know. But—’

  ‘Let him go,’ insisted Rosie, grabbing her arm. ‘It’s the only way he’ll realise how good you two have been to him.’

  Amelia stared at her, wondering how much her niece knew or at least guessed. Had she seen that likeness? Amelia took a deep breath. ‘We’ll see. What about you? Why were you all het up when you came in?’

  Rosie dropped her arm and went over to the window, moving the curtain aside to gaze out. ‘I found out where Granddad was living. He’s moved back in with that Vera. I went to check and there he was.’

  Amelia had to think before she could remember who Vera was. ‘What did he have to say?’

  ‘Excuses, excuses. I shouted at him. Couldn’t believe he could do such a thing. Then she came out all smirks, and showed me a ring he had given her and I recognised it as one of Gran’s.’ Rosie faced Amelia, tears in her eyes. ‘That was the final straw. I really blew my top then. He had her jewellery all the time and never told me! He offered me Gran’s pearls but I threw them at him and told him I never wanted to see him again.’ Her voice broke.

  Amelia forgot everything else and went over to her. ‘Poor Rosie.’ She put her arms round her.

  ‘I still love him, that’s the trouble,’ said the girl, a tiny sob in her voice. ‘He’s my granddad after all and there’s a lot I liked about him. That’s why it hurts so much.’

  ‘I know. I liked him too,’ said Amelia soothingly against her hair. ‘He was good with the twins – started to teach them ju-jitsu as well as play dominoes with them.’

  There was silence for a moment.

  ‘How did he try and explain it away?’ asked Amelia after a few moments.

  Rosie lifted her head. ‘He said he couldn’t stay here and Vera’s place was the only one he could think of. He needed the jewellery to buy his way back in with her and pay for the funeral. It was a fib about the Friendly Society. He stopped paying it when he left Gran.’

  Amelia smoothed back her hair. ‘He’s known this woman a long time. I know that doesn’t make it right, but – are they going to get married?’

  ‘She said so. He said nothing. I don’t know what to do now.’ Rosie sniffed back her tears.

  ‘Do nothing.’ A faint smile lifted the corners of Amelia’s mouth. ‘That’s what I was advised once. When in doubt, don’t. Time works many things out.’

  Rosie nodded, giving her aunt a hug before leaving her.

  Peter entered a few moments later, looking thunderous. ‘I’ve smacked the pair of them and they’re packing a pillowcase each.’

  Amelia glanced down at the clothes on the bed and did not know whether to laugh or cry. ‘I was doing the same thing myself. I’d had enough. I wanted to run away.’

  He looked stunned, picking up an armful of clothes and throwing them on to the floor. He sank on to the bed, shoulders drooping, head in his hands.

  She picked up a frock and hung it back in the wardrobe.

  ‘Do you wish you hadn’t married me?’ he said in a muffled voice.

  She did not answer, couldn’t because she might burst into tears.

  She heard him sigh. ‘I wonder if this is how Tess planned it. Chris hating us both and you hating me.’

  ‘I don’t hate you, you must know that?’ Her fingers shook as she slotted another frock, the oatmeal one which had been Violet’s, on to the rail. It reminded her of how long it had been since she had dressed up to go out with him. Every spare moment he was working on that darn book; not that he had much free time.

  ‘Chris hates me,’ he stated.

  ‘No! It’s me he hates. He’s jealous, wants Tess back. Rosie said to let him go and then we could settle down and be happy.’ Amelia went and sat on the bed beside her husband. ‘Do you believe that?’

  He put an arm round her shoulders. ‘It’s possible. He’s going to have to grovel if he wants to live here again.’ Amelia put both arms around him, loving him but wondering how long it might be before he regretted those words. He had treated Chris as a son for so long, despite everything.

  ‘Let’s go to bed,’ said Peter wearily. ‘I’ve had enough of young love for a month.’

  ‘Me too, But what about the twins?’

  ‘Can you see them going anywhere on a night like tonight? Besides, Rosie’s with them. She’ll talk them out of it.’

  They undressed and snuggled beneath the bedclothes. The mattress dipped in the middle and the springs twanged. They did not move or speak for a long time. Then Peter said, ‘Cosier than two singles, isn’t it?’

  ‘Mmmm,’ said Amelia, thinking he was only a touch away, a breath! She wanted to make love, not only because she still found the act exciting but comforting as well. But maybe he wasn’t in the mood with all that had gone on this evening?

  Reluctantly, she turned over, twanging the springs and poking Peter in the back with an elbow. ‘Sorry,’ she murmured.

  ‘That’s OK. If we’re going to apologise every time we touch or kick each other, we’ll be at it all night.’

  ‘I won’t say sorry then.’

  ‘Only if it’s deliberate,’ he said. ‘Say if you kick me because you’re really fed up with me. Or think I’m a bully for clouting Chris and the twins.’

  ‘I pushed him and I wanted to smack Dotty. But if I kick you, it will be an accident.’

  He twisted and said against her ear, ‘We’re both bound to turn over in our sleep. I believe it’s a fact of life. But I’d hate you to think I was up to something.’

  She could tell he was smiling, and lifting her head she caught him under the chin. ‘Sorry! I didn’t expect you to be there.’

  ‘Liar.’ He pulled her against him, burying his face against her neck. For a moment, they just held each other.

  ‘Do you have many love scenes in this book of yours?’ she murmured.

  ‘Of course. Why d’you ask?’

  ‘I thought you might want to run through them? Act them out?’

  There was silence and she held her breath. ‘That’s not a bad idea. Can you imagine me in full regimentals, scarlet coat, the lot?’

  ‘It’s not how I want to imagine you in bed.’

  He smiled as they kissed. She felt herself relaxing, limbs turning to water as he began to make love to her. There was silence then except for the occasional twanging of springs.

  Afterwards, Amelia lay for a while, feet tucked beneath his legs, wondering if Rosie and Dotty and the twins had heard those terrible springs. Whatever they thought, it was a noise they were going to have to get used to. With Chris gone, there was no longer any need to pretend they were together just for the children’s sake. Yet for all her bravado, the guilt was still there.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Water dripped from gutters and gurgled down drains. The thaw had come at last and suddenly it felt as if spring was just round the corner. Scarves, hats and gloves were discarded and the milkman from Brook Farm whistled as he delivered the milk. But Dotty went round with a face on her, refusing to eat. For days after Chris left, she had wept buckets.

  Amelia had enquired at the es
tate farm, only to be told Chris had given his notice and they were unable to say where he had gone. That news only made Dotty more moody. Rosie had no time for such behaviour. She was missing Davey and her granddad but knew she just had to get on with things.

  ‘You’re a right tragedy queen,’ she told her sister. ‘Why don’t you grow up? One thing’s for sure, Chris is best away from you until you do.’

  ‘It’s OK for you to talk,’ said Dotty sulkily. ‘You know Davey will be coming home to you.’

  Rosie leant across the bed, bringing her face close to her sister’s. ‘How do I know that? He could be killed! So stop making all our lives a misery and take some of the blame for what happened. Buck your ideas up. You shouldn’t have been canoodling in the dark.’

  ‘He only kissed me once,’ said Dotty gloomily, sinking on to the bed and hugging herself. ‘But that’s not why I’m feeling so miserable. I saw him outside the chemist’s on the corner the other day and he ignored me.’

  ‘You what?’ Rosie gave her a wrathful look. ‘And you didn’t tell Aunt Amelia, when you know she’s worried about him, with his mother committing suicide!’

  Dotty removed her spectacles and rubbed her eyes. ‘What was the point? He didn’t speak to me. And anyway, I don’t think he’s the type to commit suicide.’

  ‘How do you know what kind of people kill themselves? Still, if you’ve seen him it means he’s OK. He probably didn’t speak to you because Uncle Pete warned him to stay away from you. Maybe Chris has some sense in his head at last.’

  ‘That’s not fair on me, though, is it?’

  Rosie realised it was no use saying their uncle and aunt were trying to protect her, because knowing Dotty she wouldn’t see it like that. She’d just say they were picking on her. Still, she took pity on her sister, deciding she needed taking out of herself. ‘If you promise not to mope, I’ll take you to the flicks,’ she said loudly. ‘And maybe, if you buck up your ideas, Aunt Amelia’ll let you come and help out in the shop.’

  Dotty put on her spectacles and gazed at her. ‘You really think so? Could I cope? Are my eyes good enough? What if I made a mistake? A life and death mistake?’ she added with a certain relish.

  ‘You can see OK for at least six feet, can’t you? And as I’ve said before, it’s not that easy to make mistakes. Anyway, let’s see what Aunt Amelia has to say.’

  Amelia, who had convinced herself Dotty would spend the next few months sullen and uncooperative, greeted the suggestion with relief, having had second thoughts about her working in the shop because of her closeness to Chris. But she told herself that Rosie would keep her eye on her sister and gave the OK. Dotty, who seldom had a penny to bless herself with, realised she would be paid a wage and almost stopped feeling sorry for herself.

  The next day she went into the shop with Rosie.

  She wrinkled her nose, glancing round at her new surroundings. ‘Why couldn’t Aunt Amelia have had a sweet shop? This has got a hospitally smell.’

  ‘No, it hasn’t,’ protested Rosie, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, almost in ecstasy. ‘It smells lovely – of soap and perfume, shampoos and creams. It’s a little bit medicinal, I’ll give you that, but what d’you expect of a chemist’s shop?’

  She ushered her sister into the back and plucked an overall from a hook. ‘This was Aunt Amelia’s. It’ll probably be a bit big on you but it’ll have to do.’

  ‘She never works in the shop now, does she?’ said Dotty, eyes magnified by the thick lenses of her glasses, reminding Rosie of Mr Magoo, the cartoon character.

  ‘She comes in once a week to collect the books and see how the stock is. Maybe she’ll come in more often when I start college in September.’ Rosie shrugged herself into her own overall.

  ‘What about when Davey comes home? You won’t be working if you get married.’

  ‘Nothing’s settled,’ murmured Rosie. ‘Aunt Amelia mightn’t give her permission. So, you see, you’re not the only one who can’t have what she wants right away.’ She whirled round as Irene entered the stockroom and introduced the two girls to each other, telling her sister to take note of what the assistant said and did. ‘She knows the customers as well as I do and it’s them we’re here to please.’

  Dotty nodded and followed Irene into the shop, feeling important and grown up in the overall. She picked up things and sniffed them, listening with half an ear to all that Irene said, thinking of Chris and of boys in general. ‘D’you have many lads coming into the shop?’ she interrupted Irene in mid-explanation of the workings of the large brass till.

  Irene looked startled, then she chuckled. ‘That’s not a question I’ve ever been asked before in here. Like the fellas, do you?’

  Dotty flushed. ‘I have been kissed. Do you have a boyfriend?’

  ‘More than one.’ Irene winked. ‘Keep them guessing, that’s my motto. But if you’re looking to find one in here, you haven’t much chance. More women and girls come in. Then there’s the old men with ailments and the odd married man who gets all embarrassed and asks to see Mr Brown.’

  ‘Why do they get embarrassed?’ said Dotty.

  Irene grinned. ‘That’d be telling! You just pass any difficult ones on to me. Oh, and there’s the salesmen. But you won’t be having anything to do with them.’ She was about to add something more when a couple of customers came into the shop, one with a child on leading strings. ‘She’ll want Farley’s rusks and Virol,’ hissed Irene. ‘You can deal with her.’

  Dotty stepped forward with an important air to serve her very first customer.

  ‘So how did you get on?’ said Amelia when the sisters got home that evening.

  ‘I enjoyed it,’ said Dotty, flopping on to the sofa and kicking off her shoes. ‘But my feet hurt with standing all day.’

  ‘You’ll get used to that,’ said Rosie, sitting next to Jimmy, who was sorting out cigarette cards on an occasional table.

  ‘I’m not complaining,’ said Dotty.

  Peter glanced up. ‘You do surprise me. If I’d known all we had to do to hear those words was send you out to work, I’d have done it earlier! Let’s hope it lasts,’ he added without much conviction.

  To his and Amelia’s relief, the next few weeks passed without any complaints or Dotty getting the sulks. She chattered about different customers but made no mention of the sales reps. Something Amelia was thankful for. She began to believe all her worrying had been unnecessary.

  Dotty was fairly content with her job. She had discovered like Rosie that life did go on, and although she could not get Chris completely out of her mind and her heart, began to make the best of things. She was earning money and getting out and about with her sister and Irene, going to the pictures, the theatre and the occasional dance at the church hall. But she did not meet anyone she liked half as much as Chris.

  Rosie’s eighteenth birthday came round, bringing letters from America and Palestine, as well as a registered parcel.

  ‘Open the parcel first,’ said Tom eagerly, as they sat round the breakfast table. ‘I’ve never had a parcel delivered on my birthday. Dad’s were always late.’

  Neither had Rosie. She tore at the wrappings to reveal a narrow oblong box. It contained Maggie’s pearls. She fingered each glowing orb, knowing the eyes of the whole family were on her. Then she picked up the accompanying card, although she knew already it was from her granddad. She read it, then glanced at Amelia. ‘What do I do?’ Uncertainty shadowed her eyes.

  ‘Keep them, of course,’ said her aunt without a shadow of a doubt. ‘Your gran intended you to have them, didn’t she?’

  ‘You’re a lucky duck,’ said Dotty, looking sulky. ‘I bet I never get anything half as nice as that in my life.’

  ‘You might,’ said Rosie. ‘Anyway, what if he’s gone and married that Vera? If he has, I don’t want to accept anything from him. I can’t forgive him for lying to me and decking that woman out in Gran’s jewels. She would have had a fit.’

  ‘What does he sa
y in his card?’ said Amelia patiently.

  ‘That he wants me to have them and hopes we’re all keeping well. Nothing about coming to see me.’

  ‘Probably nervous,’ said Peter. ‘“Hell hath no fury”! You threw everything at him but the kitchen sink when you last saw him.’

  ‘I did not,’ she said indignantly.

  ‘Words can hurt just as much as a rolling pin,’ he said, smiling. ‘Why don’t you go and see him? Then you’ll know if you’ve got a stepgranny or not.’

  Rosie shuddered at the thought. That Vera was so tarty and full of herself, having got her claws back into Walter, that Rosie could not bear it. ‘I’ll think about it,’ she said loftily, putting the pearls to one side.

  ‘You could write to him,’ suggested Amelia. ‘You should anyway to thank him for the present. He didn’t have to send them to you, after all.’

  ‘I suppose I could do that,’ said Rosie, grudgingly, reaching next for the letter from America. She read it swiftly, letting out an exclamation. ‘They’re coming home!’

  ‘Who? What! You mean, our Iris and the kids?’ said Amelia, starting to her feet.

  Peter, who had been halfway through the door, came back. ‘What’s that?’

  Rosie’s dark eyes shone with excitement and she tapped the letter with her finger. ‘It says right here they’re coming home!’

  Peter and Amelia exchanged glances.

  ‘When?’ Amelia demanded.

  Rosie read the contents of the letter again. ‘Doesn’t give an exact date but Babs says Aunt Iris has almost run out of money.’

  ‘Great,’ muttered Peter.

  Amelia shot him a look.

  He tapped a fingernail against his teeth. ‘They haven’t booked their passage then?’

  ‘She doesn’t say so.’ Rosie turned over the card. ‘There’s an extra bit here. Babs says Aunt Iris will be writing to you, Aunt Amelia.’ She handed over the letter. ‘Read it for yourself. I’ll have to get to work.’ She picked up Davey’s letter and left the house with Dotty.