by Helen Mcginn
‘Goodness, that does sound a huge undertaking. I love his books.’
‘What’s your favourite?’
‘The Mayor of Casterbridge.’ He hoped she didn’t ask any more questions. It was the only one he’d read and that was at school. ‘Yours?’
‘Tess, obviously.’ Kathy passed him a small Melamine cup of tea. ‘What about you, what brought you to Cornwall?’
‘I had a few days off work so thought I’d head down here to, you know, clear the cobwebs.’ Patrick hoped she couldn’t hear quite how hard he had to work to make this lie sound casual.
‘Oh, good idea, quite the best place to clear the head. And what’s work for you?’
‘I’m a photographer.’
‘How fascinating. What sort?’ Kathy reached into the tin for another biscuit.
‘I’m a photo journalist. A war photographer, specifically.’ He was used to this being met with a few polite but slightly awkward questions but Kathy was anything but stuck for words. She asked lots of questions. Not just the usual ones – where had he been, did he get scared – rather she wanted to know why he’d gone into it, how he felt when taking photographs on the front line. On and on they went and, for once, Patrick was grateful for the opportunity to talk about it, not least because it kept his mind occupied.
As the train pulled into Exeter Kathy started packing away her things, carefully screwing the lid back on the flask and pushing the top of the tin down hard before putting them back in her bag.
Patrick watched her as she scribbled on a piece of paper, wondering how this encounter might end. He’d enjoyed her company.
‘So, it was lovely to meet you, Patrick.’ Kathy extended her hand again. Patrick took it.
‘And you. Good luck with the job interview. I think this one’s got your name on it.’ He smiled at her, meaning it.
‘Thank you, I do hope so. It would be wonderful to be able to settle for a while. I do love it here. Here, this is me…’ Kathy pointed at a small scrap of paper on which she’d written her name in neat black letters. ‘And my number in Exeter. I’m staying with my godmother and I’ll be here for a while, I hope. Just in case you want to get in touch when you’re next passing through.’ She handed it to Patrick.
‘Gosh, thank you.’ He was momentarily taken aback, unsure what to say. He looked at it before putting it in his pocket. ‘I mean, thank you very much. I’m not sure when I might be back this way but…’
Her smile stayed in place but he saw her eyes lose their shine a little. ‘Yes, of course. You’re bound to be off somewhere far-flung by this time next week. Still, I really enjoyed talking to you.’ Kathy picked up her bag. ‘Good luck, Patrick, and thank you for your company.’ She turned to head towards the carriage door.
‘Kathy…’ Patrick reached out, touching her gently on the arm. She stopped and turned back towards him. ‘Thank you. I can’t tell you how much I’ve appreciated your company, too. There’s so much I would like to have told you but now definitely isn’t the time.’ He lowered his eyes.
Kathy looked at his face, sensing the untold hurt. She spoke softly. ‘I thought there was a story but I figured you weren’t ready to tell it. You looked so sad when I first saw you, and I couldn’t bear it. That’s the real reason I came over. Look, I’m not expecting you to—’
‘No, Kathy, you have been so kind. I’m going to give you my number too and really, I would love for us to meet up again.’ He took a pen from his coat pocket and hastily scribbled a number on the back of his cigarette packet. ‘Here, this is my number in Paris.’
‘Goodness, how very…chic.’ Kathy took the packet from Patrick. ‘I’d love to go to Paris one day.’
‘Well, I hope that one day you do. Because I think you’d love it.’
‘Well, goodbye again.’ Kathy smiled at him before turning back to head to the door.
‘’Bye, Kathy, safe journey.’ He waved as she walked past the window a moment later and she waved back, the shine back in her eyes.
13
1964
‘Are you going to put those on or are you waiting for them to do it themselves?’ Julia’s mother called across the shop to her. Julia stood motionless at the foot of a ladder with a pricing gun in her hand.
Turning back to her customer, Jeanie Shield rolled her eyes. ‘Honestly, that girl lives in a world of her own sometimes.’
‘Oh, don’t worry, Mrs Shield, mine don’t listen to a word I say either. How’s your husband doing, anyway?’
‘He’s much better, thank you. Almost back to normal now, thank goodness. Of course, he was very lucky. Not everyone his age survives a heart attack.’ Jeanie handed a paper bag over the counter to the customer. ‘There you go, Mrs Robinson. All yours.’
‘Thank you, take care now.’ The bell on the door tinkled as she left.
With the shop empty of customers again, Julia braced herself for a telling-off.
‘Honestly, Julia, it seems to take you twice as long to do anything as anyone else. Once you finally finish doing that please can you make yourself useful and go and see what your father wants for lunch? He’s upstairs. Go in quietly, though. He might be resting.’
‘Yes, Mum.’ Julia faced away from her mother, closing her eyes as she spoke. Making her way upstairs, she stopped at the door of the sitting room, pushing it slowly open.
‘Dad?’ she whispered.
‘I’m awake, love. Come in.’ Her father sat in his chair by the window, head resting against the side. He turned to look at her, his eyes lighting up a little.
‘How are you feeling?’ Julia spoke softly, kneeling down beside him. He’d aged quickly over the last few years and Julia couldn’t help but feel it was partly her fault.
‘Oh, don’t look like that. I’m not dead yet.’
Julia checked herself, smiling. ‘Sorry, Dad.’
‘How’s your mother doing?’
‘She’s OK. It’s been quiet this morning, only a handful of customers.’
He looked at his daughter, her eyes to the floor. ‘Listen, I don’t know how many times I have to say this to you.’ He lowered his voice. ‘You don’t have to stay here, you know? We’ll be fine without you.’
‘But Mum says—’
‘I know what she says. But you can’t stay here for the rest of your life, Julia. Listen to me…’ He gestured at the door. Julia got up and crossed the room to push it shut. She sat back down beside him. He took her hand in his. ‘I’ve watched you practically disappear over the last few years. I know what happened was… a terrible, terrible thing for you but, Julia… life goes on.’ He nudged her shoulder. ‘And it’s about time you went and lived it, my girl.’
‘Henry?’ Julia’s mother’s voice rang up the stairs.
Julia quickly opened the door and called back, ‘I’m just asking what he wants for lunch. I’ll be down in a minute!’ She turned back to her father. ‘Thank you. I know you’re right but I have no qualifications, nowhere to go.’
‘That’s because you’ve hidden yourself away here for too long! And I know we haven’t helped as much as we could have done, but I think it’s time you looked to the future. Your mother might take a bit of time to get used to it but she’ll come round, I promise. Now, I suggest you go and make some enquiries into getting a proper job, something you want to do.’
‘But it’s too late, surely.’ She looked at him, her eyes full of tears.
‘Julia, it’s never too late. Go on, I’ll help your mother this afternoon. Why don’t you start making some phone calls? You know where the phone book is.’ He winked at her, smiling.
Just then, Julia’s mother came into the room.
‘What are you two up to?’ She went to the window, peering down.
Her father quickly handed Julia a handkerchief. ‘We were just talking about how quiet it is in the shop today, Jeanie.’
Julia wiped at her tears whilst her mother’s back was turned.
‘That’s lucky, given she was too busy daydreaming
to be much help.’ She let out a short laugh. ‘Right, you go on back downstairs. I’ll make lunch for your father.’
‘Go on, love, off you go. I’ll see you later.’
Julia smiled back at him, though more tears were threatening to fall. Desperate for her mother not to notice, Julia made for the door.
‘You can make a start on unpacking the delivery by the door. And try not to take for ever this time.’ Her mother’s voice followed her as she went down the stairs.
The shop was empty, shut for lunch. Julia looked at the big cardboard box just inside the door and turned on the radio behind the counter. If she was going to spend the next hour stacking shelves, she decided she might as well do it to music.
The piano notes drifted from the radio, gentle and measured, almost dreamlike. Julia stared at the box by the door but her feet wouldn’t move. Instead, she let the melody surround her, carrying her thoughts to a place she rarely dared visit: the sight, smell and sound of her baby in his cot, his tiny feet in pale blue booties. Julia allowed herself to sit with these thoughts for a while, the music seemingly pulling at the memories. Tears now rolled down her face but instead of feeling shame, with her father’s words ringing in her ear, she felt something a little more like hope.
As the music faded, Julia found herself taking off her tabard, folding it gently and putting it on top of the counter. She took a handful of coins from the till, unlocked the shop door from the inside and headed out along the street towards the phone box at the end of the high street. She made two calls, the second to her aunt.
‘Aunt Tessa, it’s Julia.’ Julia whispered down the phone.
‘Julia, is that you?’ Tessa hollered back.
‘Yes, it’s me. I’ve leaving, Tessa.’
‘Leaving where?’
‘Home.’
‘Speak up, darling girl. I can’t hear you very well.’
‘I said I’m leaving home.’ Julia couldn’t help but laugh a little. She’d never felt as free as she did in that moment.
‘Do your parents know? Where are you going to go?’
‘No… well, I think Dad knows. He’s kind of told me to go – nicely, I mean. And as for where I’m going, I have absolutely no idea exactly where but I’m thinking I want to head for London.’
‘When?’
Julia looked at her watch. ‘In about an hour’s time.’
‘Well, I’m not having you walking the streets of London. When you get there, go to a pub called The Admiral in Chelsea and ask for Charles. He’s an old friend of mine. I’ll tell him you’re coming. He’ll give you a room for a few nights, I’m sure.’
‘I’ve actually got myself an interview at a secretarial college next week; I just rang. I thought that might be a good place to start. Then I can get some work, at least.’
‘Oh, Julia, I am proud of you. I’ve been waiting for you to do this for a while. I knew you would at some point.’
‘It’s just taken me some time to figure it out but I can’t stay at home any longer. It’s killing me, Tessa.’
‘Just promise me you will call me when you get to London so I know you’re safe.’
‘Of course I will. Thank you… I don’t know what I would do without you.’
‘Julia, I saw Patrick. He came here last year… to lay some ghosts to rest.’
‘How is he?’ Julia gripped the receiver in her hand, her knuckles turning white.
‘He’s fine. At least, he will be. I wasn’t going to say anything but I think now it’s better that you know.’
Julia remembered writing that letter to Patrick like it was yesterday, telling him that if he loved her, he’d move on. Her heart felt as if it might break – again – but she knew it was time for her to do the same. The line started beeping. Julia fished in her pocket for more change. ‘I’m going to have to go.’
‘OK, darling, but promise me you’ll call me when you get there. I’ll let your mother know you’re all right.’
‘Thank you, Tessa.’
Julia returned home and quietly put a few belongings in a bag. Reaching into the back of her wardrobe, she took out a shoebox from which she extracted a small notebook. Tucked in the back was a black-and-white photograph of Patrick, smiling with his eyes, his hair whipped by the wind. She held the photo in one hand, in the other a letter from him, sent on to her from Tessa not long after Julia had left Cornwall almost three years ago. She’d read it so many times she almost didn’t need to look at the words. Her heart ached but there was at least some comfort in knowing that he was going to be OK. She allowed herself to think of William, smiling at how much like Patrick he’d looked. It hurt to think of him but, as Julia was learning, it hurt more to try to pretend William didn’t exist at all. She tucked the letter and photograph back into the notebook, placed it in her bag and crept back down the stairs and out of the house.
That night Julia’s parents sat in silence at the table eating dinner, an empty space where their daughter used to sit.
A few weeks later Julia lay on her bed in her room, her fingers tired from typing. She was still living above the pub, paying a small rent in return for hours put in behind the bar in the evenings. Charles, it turned out, was one of her aunt’s old flames and clearly still carried quite the torch for Tessa, taking Julia in like an old acquaintance.
Glancing at her watch, she saw she had just twenty minutes until her shift started downstairs. She walked over to the sink in the corner of the room and splashed cold water on her face. She pulled her hair up into a ponytail and put on a clean white shirt, tied a purple scarf around her neck and applied a touch of lipstick.
In the bar downstairs, the regulars had taken up their usual positions, standing at the front or tucked away at favourite tables.
‘How was your day?’ Charles called from the other end of the bar.
‘Good, thank you. Everything all right here?’
‘I’ve just got to go and get something from out the back. Can you see to that gentleman who’s just come in?’ Charles nodded his head towards the door.
Julia turned to see a young man in a blue suit. She watched him pick a seat at the table by the window, putting the suitcase he carried on the chair and carefully placing his newspaper on the table. Walking up to the bar, he smiled at Julia.
‘What’ll it be?’ she said.
‘David…’ He held his hand out, rather formally, Julia thought. It amused her.
Julia shook it, smiling back. ‘What’ll it be, David?’
After that first meeting, David came by the pub more frequently on his way home. What’s more, Julia started looking forward to him walking through the door. It turned out that David had only come into the pub that first time by mistake; he’d meant to be in the one at the other end of the street to meet a friend. And it wasn’t even really on his way home. Not that Julia knew that until he confessed over dinner one evening a few months later.
‘Did your friend mind that you didn’t turn up?’
‘Not really, not once I explained that I wouldn’t have met you if I had.’ David smiled at her. For the first time for what seemed like an eternity, she felt her heart lift.
Two years later they were married, a small reception at a London registry office with just their parents and a small group of friends. After the ceremony they’d headed to The Admiral for lunch, sitting at a long table at the back. It had been a wonderful day but Julia’s abiding memory was her mother’s face, deploying a convincing smile for the wedding photograph but otherwise carrying a look of barely concealed disappointment throughout.
Just before the newlyweds left the pub to head back to David’s flat for the night (their budget hadn’t allowed for a night away) her mother had taken Julia’s hands in hers. ‘Congratulations, darling. Now, let’s just hope we don’t have to wait too long for a baby, eh?’
Julia’s heart shattered into tiny pieces.
It was years before Julia did have another baby. In fact, she and David had almost given up hope that they
would ever have children, despite doctors telling them there was no medical reason why they shouldn’t. But then Annie was born, Jess following just eighteen months later. And eventually Julia learned to live with the guilt she felt every time she looked at her daughters, only to see her son.
14
‘Which turn-off is it again?’ Jess punched at the radio controls, trying to find a song she liked.
‘Not the next one, but the one after.’ Annie squinted at the map on her phone. ‘Says we’re only ten minutes away. It’s not been too bad, really.’
The late afternoon light had faded fast, the sky now deep blue and cloudless. With each turn, the roads seemed to narrow further.
‘Are you sure this is the right way?’ Jess tried her best not to sound like she didn’t trust Annie’s directions.
‘Promise this is the way. Look, that’s got to be the coast up ahead.’
As they went over the brow of the hill, the landscape, hidden behind thick hedges until now, revealed itself. Fields swept away to either side and, up ahead, the grey-blue sea stretched out to the horizon, looking calm and cold. On the other side of the road, at the T-junction ahead, sat a pub the colour of turmeric. The windows glowed with warm yellow light and to the right, the pub’s sign told them they were indeed in the right place.
‘Told you!’ Annie was triumphant, prodding her sister gently in the arm in celebration.
‘Never doubted you.’ Jess drove into an almost empty car park beside the pub. ‘Right, what time are we meeting him?’
‘In an hour.’ Annie’s stomach flipped at the thought of meeting this man, her brother, for the first time, despite having had six months to get used to the idea. ‘Are you not nervous?’