by Lizzie Lane
Polly smiled as she beheld the deep blush behind the pale brown hair. No need to worry. Colin must be up to the job if Edna’s blush was anything to go by.
‘Never mind,’ said Polly. ‘You can always adopt.’
She sauntered back into the shop where Colin had temporarily buried his hostility towards David and was enthusing about his toy making, explaining that although it was quiet now, it would be hectic by Christmas.
‘Any bit of wood you come across,’ he was saying. ‘Any at all, I’d be most grateful. And paint. I can always do with paint. Mind you, Billy Hills provides me with a lot of stuff. Sells a few toys for me too an’ all. You do know him, don’t you? Oh, yes. Of course you do. You met him at our wedding. He visits here a fair lot.’
Edna came in and put a brown Bakelite tray of four cups and a plate of digestive biscuits down on the corner of a workbench.
David looked to Polly. ‘Have I met him?’
‘Yes,’ said Polly quickly drinking the tea. ‘I was with him at Edna’s wedding.’ She glanced swiftly at her watch. ‘Do you think we’d better go now?’
She ignored David’s look of surprise and headed for the door. The last thing she wanted at this moment was Billy Hills turning up and laying her history bare in front of David. She hadn’t uttered a word about Carol. Kids spoil relationships.
Head down, Edna bustled the tea things away quickly once David and Polly were gone. She didn’t want Colin to see her face or stay around long enough for him to ask her questions about where she had left the scarf and why she had gone there. If she got to the kitchen door quickly enough …
‘Oh no you don’t!’
He’d got quick with the chair. Very quick. His fingers were around her wrist. The tea things rattled on the tray.
‘He said you left the scarf at his place in Clifton. You didn’t tell me you’d been up there. Is there something I should know?’
Despite having just drunk a cup of tea her lips were dry. She licked them but they remained resolutely the same.
It was difficult to look into his face. ‘I was looking for Charlotte. I needed more material to make clothes for the kids at the orphanage. I thought it was the least I could do, seeing as she gave me that stuff for my wedding dress – and that suit she put back for me at the jumble sale.’
Colin loosened his grip on her wrist – not that he held her that firmly anyway. He looked at her a little sadly and shook his head. ‘I used to think you were too good to be true. Now I know I was wrong. You are too good, Edna, and I’ll never understand why you married the likes of me.’
The tea tray landed on the floor, the crockery clattering and the teaspoons flying. They were of no importance. Edna threw her arms around his neck. Her eyes were full of tears because she’d suddenly remembered exactly why she’d loved him in the first place. Incapacitated as he was, he still put others first, generous to a fault no matter what. And she couldn’t hurt him. She couldn’t tell him about Sherman. Not yet. Not just yet.
She saw his hand reaching for the scarf and immediately knew he had a question to ask.
‘You love this scarf. What happened to make you leave it behind?’
The truth could not be avoided. Even her silence would speak volumes – and Colin heard.
‘I thought her and David were too friendly. Poor Charlotte,’ he said hugging her as close as the wheelchair would allow.
Just she and the children: Charlotte told herself she was going to enjoy this holiday. Sea air was famous for clearing the head.
But duty came first. Before leaving she attended a Trustee meeting. To leave without doing so would have been irresponsible. As it turned out she was glad she did go. Lady Garribond actually apologised!
‘I’ve never known that before,’ said Matron who had overheard the mumbled words.
‘Perhaps she’s found a few skeletons in her own cupboard,’ Charlotte remarked.
Matron smiled as if she knew something no one else knew. ‘Bear in mind that she was a society belle when old Edward was king and you know what sort of man he was!’
‘I’ve heard rumours,’ Charlotte said. Edward VII had indeed frequented the city to see one or two of his lady friends.
‘It doesn’t hurt to remind the old what it feels like to be young,’ said Matron, as if reading Charlotte’s thoughts.
‘Enjoy your holidays, Mrs Hennessey-White. Forget your duties and have a nice time,’ Matron called, her words echoing off the glossy coldness of the corridor.
‘Thank you.’ Duties were the last thing on her mind.
What was it Matron had said about reminding the old how it feels to be young? And being happy? What about being happy? That’s how Josef made her feel. She reminded herself that she was a married woman. Divorce was on the increase but it wasn’t an option she wished to contemplate.
‘No!’ she muttered to herself. ‘I have to try!’
The cool darkness of the entrance hall framed the view through the windows where her car sat baking in the bright sunshine. By the time she reached the door she was convinced that she could leave without wandering the grounds like a lovesick fool.
The sun was hot, the sky bright. She squinted and raised a white-gloved hand to shield her eyes. Once she was in her car the sound of the engine and the wheels turning on gravel would drown out her emotions. Once she was in the car she would be safe.
But there he was, leaning against it just like she’d seen him do before. And her heart beat faster.
If I rush past and don’t look into his face …
There is nothing he can do to make me stay and talk to him, she told herself as she hurried forward.
‘I’ve come to say goodbye.’
She stopped in her tracks and looked into his face. Those blue eyes, the kind mouth that smiled so casually and with such charm.
‘Where are you going?’ Her breath felt tight in her chest.
He shoved his hands in his trouser pockets – such a casual gesture, completely devoid of military pretension. ‘Mr Partridge has located an organisation in Germany that places people wanting to work with charity organisations.’
‘You specifically asked him for that?’ It surprised her that he’d found something suitable so quickly.
He nodded just once and a tight slightly sad smile came to his lips. ‘I want to do something towards rebuilding my country. Do you know how many orphans there are in Europe, in Germany alone?’
She shook her head. ‘I dread to think.’
‘Millions!’
She who had for so long been involved in charity work was suitably awe struck. Words stuck in her throat. ‘When?’ she whispered.
‘One week. The eleventh.’
‘That’s halfway through our holiday. I’m going to Devon,’ she blurted. ‘The children are home from school’
He placed his hands on her bare arms. His touch was warm and so unbelievably pleasant. A cool breeze played with the hem of her blue striped dress – so clean, so pristine. But she wasn’t clean, she wasn’t pure! She had sinned. But the straight and narrow was turning out to be a lonely road. Was it really so wrong to feel like she did with Josef? And could she resist sin? Or was it love?
His voice was irresistible. ‘You will be at the station to see me off? One fifteen. My train leaves at one fifteen.’
‘I will,’ she said, resolute that somehow she would indeed make her way back to Bristol and say goodbye to him on the same station she had welcomed her husband home from the war.
Chapter Fifteen
TOOT! TOOT!
Polly nearly jumped out of her skin. ‘Very funny!’ she said, hands on hips as Billy Hills’ battered black van pulled in beside her.
Billy grinned. ‘Wanna lift?’
‘Again? Everywhere I go you seem to be going my way,’ she said, standing as seductively as she knew how. Much as she liked to belittle him in public, she had to admit he was kind – and besotted, which automatically attracted her to him. She’d always liked men to be be
sotted with her. It made her feel like a film star.
‘How’s yer kid?’ he asked, as she got in.
‘OK.’
She took her time, careful not to snag her stockings on the boxes of cheap china and bric-a-brac stored on the floor in front of the seat.
That was something different about Billy too. He didn’t mind about Carol. In fact every time she saw him he made a point of asking how she was. Most men would run a mile.
‘Off to the doctor’s, are you? Odd thing to do on a Sunday night.’
She tried not to look guilty at his question. ‘Mrs Grey’s not well. I’m doing the cooking while she’s away.’ Actually, she was worried. Mrs Grey being ill was very inconvenient. Charlotte was away on holiday with the children and, to put it mildly, she was afraid of being alone in the house with David. But she’d braced herself to do it. This was an opportunity to tell David that she had changed her mind about getting involved with him. Once that little problem was out of the way she was free to dally with whom she liked and, at present, she liked Billy.
There was a silence. She knew instinctively that Billy had been about to mention his need for a housekeeper again. Obviously he’d decided not to risk being told to sod off. Well, silence was all right with her. She had things to think about. Meg was getting on her back, keeping on about Carol needing a better home. Well, she was doing her best.
Billy spoke and broke into her thoughts. ‘Beginning to look a bit tidier.’
They were crossing what used to be the Tramway Centre. Polly looked out at what was left of the old tram lines, now twisted bits of metal glowing softly red in what was left of the setting sun. Sunday silence lay over the scene like the curtain in the picture house, waiting to go up on the activity of clearing the roads and getting things moving again – really moving.
‘Couldn’t look any worse,’ she said.
They drove up Park Street, where bomb damage had left gaps like broken teeth between buildings. The smell of old cinders and dust lay heavy on the evening air.
‘Buses get up here easier than trams,’ said Billy trying his best to provoke some response from her.
‘Do they?’ she said. A car would be better. Preferably chauffeur driven. That would be better. She sighed heavily and rested her head against the side of the van. She pretended to look at the damage and noticed the signs saying KEEP CLEAR – DEMOLITION IN PROGRESS. Just like our lives, she thought. Demolish the old and build up the new. If she didn’t do something about David she could achieve just that. Only it would be Charlotte’s life she’d be demolishing and goodness knows what would become of her own. She was sure that Edna had seen them and it embarrassed her. She was desperate to live it down and, besides, she wanted to leave the door open for Billy. Although he couldn’t read or write, he had a mind full of ideas for making money. Life with him could be good.
He had given up trying to impress her and was staring at the road ahead. But he caught her looking and gave her a warm smile. She smiled back. She knew when a man wanted her.
Grand Victorian houses, some six storeys high, threw their shadows over the road ahead of them as the sun sank lower. Polly eyed them thoughtfully. Somehow they didn’t seem quite so attractive today. Their reflections flashed by in the broad-paned glass of the wide bay windows. Lights were being turned on in high-ceilinged living rooms, curtains were being drawn. No looking in, no looking out, and suddenly it struck her how isolated the lives of the people that lived here seemed – even David and Charlotte. Was that why Charlotte threw herself into charity work and all that stuff?
They were at the end of Royal York Crescent. ‘Stop here!’ she said suddenly.
‘Are you sure you’ve got to stay overnight?’ Billy asked.
‘Sorry mate, but there you are.’
She waved as she walked away but didn’t look back, partly because she didn’t want Billy to see the guilt in her eyes but mostly to avoid any accusation in his.
Sand, sea and brilliant sunshine. People were swimming again, children were building sandcastles, and others, like Charlotte herself, were sitting in deckchairs outside their gaily-painted beach huts. Granted the paint was looking a bit tired, but once the paint manufacturers went back into brightly painted colours instead of battleship grey or khaki, she’d get someone to brighten it up. She busied herself writing a letter to Aaron. It was difficult to know what to say. She mentioned Polly of course, and also thanked him for his assistance at the camp. After posting it air mail she expected to get a reply back in about three to four weeks.
Geoffrey was launching the boat he’d had for Christmas from off the rocks and into a pool.
Janet was slumped in a deckchair next to Charlotte, her face a picture of adolescent boredom.
Charlotte took off her sunglasses and squinted at the rock pools where some other boys had joined Geoffrey, pushing the boat from one end of the pond to the other. He seemed happy enough and she smiled. She turned to her daughter and frowned. Janet was obviously far from happy.
‘Why don’t you go for a swim?’ she said.
‘I don’t want to.’
‘Then why did you bother to put your swimming costume on, darling?’
‘To air my body.’
Charlotte frowned more deeply. The cheeky comment called for a reprimand yet, somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Childish rebukes didn’t seem to suit her any more. Charlotte eyed her speculatively. Janet’s eyes were closed, one arm tossed up behind her head. She was no longer a child. The light woollen swimsuit her daughter wore clung to curves Charlotte was sure were not there before last term.
‘Then let’s talk,’ said Charlotte. ‘You know your father is considering letting you stay at home and go back to your old school.’
Janet turned round to face her and opened her eyes. ‘Mother, how could you be such a fool! Of course he’s not! If you hadn’t told him I ran away that day …’
Charlotte’s jaw dropped. ‘I never told him any such thing! And he’s never mentioned that he knew …’
‘Well, he mentioned it to me,’ Janet said bitterly, before turning on her side so that Charlotte was left looking at her back.
Charlotte racked her brains. Mrs Grey wouldn’t tell. So who else?
The answer came swiftly. Polly! Polly had seen Janet there.
She reached for her skirt and blouse. ‘I’m off to the Post Office. I won’t be long.’
Gripping the letter in her hand she made her way off the beach. The sooner Aaron confirmed her story the sooner there would be a truce between her and Polly.
‘There you are,’ said Billy.
Colin took the crisp notes Billy handed him.
‘Twelve pounds, fifteen shillings and sixpence. Not bad for a month’s work, is it?’ Billy said.
Colin beamed. ‘Not bad on top of my disablement.’ He looked up at Edna and grabbed her hand. ‘Keep us going, girl. Won’t need your wages before long.’
Edna smiled weakly. ‘I’ll keep going as long as I need to. Once you’re making millions I’ll give it all up.’
They all laughed. No one there could guess that behind her smile Edna’s heart was aching. Sherman needed her. She wanted to go to him again but the length of time it took to get a bus out there was unfair on Colin. She didn’t like leaving him alone that long. But if Billy could give her a lift?
Billy stopped laughing. ‘That’s what I want to talk to you about. This bloke approached me down on the Centre and took two of your toys away.’
‘You gave them away?’ asked Colin with raised eyebrows.
‘Sort of, free samples you might say. Anyway, he’s come back.’ Billy paused, obviously enjoying the looks of apprehension on their faces.
Edna broke first. ‘What did he say, Billy?’
A wide smile spread slowly across Billy’s face. ‘He said ’e wants one hundred by Christmas.’
Edna clapped her hands. Billy would be calling in even more than he was at present. ‘That’s wonderful! Which one does he
want?’
Billy looked from one to the other of them. ‘One hundred of each.’
Edna and Colin’s mouths dropped open as they turned and looked at each other.
‘But we’ve got ten different designs now,’ said Colin. Edna touched his shoulder. She was aware that he didn’t always feel one hundred per cent. A man who’d gone through what he had couldn’t expect to. But it was obvious that Billy had more to say.
‘You need to employ someone,’ said Billy. ‘You can find someone, can’t you?’
Colin said he’d think on it. ‘In the meantime you’d better take that lot,’ he said pointing to six more horses painted in dark pink with yellow dots.
‘I’ll help you,’ said Edna, desperate now to get Billy alone so she could ask him one huge favour.
The back doors of the black van had oval windows, similar to the frames you used to get on Victorian pictures. The headlights had a brass trim. Billy kept them highly polished. It hadn’t occurred to him that such gleaming accessories made the rest of the vehicle look positively decrepit!
‘Billy!’ said Edna breathlessly as he opened the back doors. ‘I wonder if you can do me a favour once a week.’ She glanced furtively towards the front door of the shop. Colin had not come out. It was sunny and something about sunshine made him depressed. Other people walked out in it. He didn’t.
‘Whatever you want, Mrs Smith, I’m only too pleased to oblige,’ said Billy with mock civility.
‘Charlotte – Mrs Hennessey-White – is away on holiday. I promised I’d take some baby clothes and things out to the orphanage but it takes so long on the bus and I don’t like leaving Colin alone for too long. Do you think you could take me out there – if it’s not too much trouble?’
‘None at all! I’d be pleased to do it.’
‘Billy!’ She touched his arm. ‘I don’t want Colin to know. You won’t tell him, will you?’
There was a questioning look in his eyes, almost as though he knew that there was someone at the orphanage she particularly wanted to see. She blinked but kept her courage.