Comet

by Andie J Fessey

  He stared at her, his mouth still agape.

  “Bob would really love for you to say yes David, but you know what he’s like, hence me asking you. So, what do you say Love?”

  David sat speechless for several moments.

  He thought back to his cold, damp lodgings in the centre of the City.

  The grouchy landlady he answered to, who always wanted to know his business.

  The noises from the couple who lived in the flat downstairs, fighting like cat and dog most nights.

  The noises of the rowdy rabbles, venturing from one pub to the next, along the line of Lime Street.

  A tear fell down his cheek, Flo gently dabbing at it with the handkerchief she wiped his blood away with.

  “Yes Flo, thank you, yes, I’d love it,” he managed to say, though his voice was breaking.

  Flo wrapped her arms around him, giving him a huge hug, until she felt him grimace with pain, as she squeezed his bruised ribs.

  “Oh, I’m sorry David Love, I didn’t realise.”

  “It’s alright Flo,” he said, wiping another tear from his cheek.

  “Yer soppy happeth,” she said, with a warm smile, “now c’mon, let’s get you back home to Woolton Love.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The morning shift at the Haberdashery was, gladly to her, busier than usual, helping to make the hours pass by quickly.

  She expected the morning to be spent, performing what Irene called ‘Stock Checks’, feeling to Sheila a futile exercise these days, as the stock was hardly flying off the shelves.

  This morning was a pleasant surprise.

  Irene took on board one or two of her suggestions, and it appeared business had picked up already.

  “If it carries on at this rate Sheila love,” she said, “I’ll not only be able to take you on fulltime, but I may be able to go buy a new sewing machine!”

  The pair of them laughed, but Sheila felt terrible and torn at the same time.

  She knew, given half the chance, she could turn the fortunes of the shop around and turn it into the success Irene wanted it to be.

  But she was unable to find it within herself, to let Irene know she intended to leave for Australia as soon as possible.

  She was always treated with kindness and understanding by her employer.

  Though she would not allow herself to cry in front of her, she knew Irene somehow knew. Frequently was the occasion when she was told, to ‘go have a sit down in the back love, whilst I deal with the next customer’.”

  Leaving the shop, she walked up Saint Johns Road towards Crosby Road, where she made it in time to catch the bus into town.

  Her journey felt different this time, than when she last travelled it.

  No courting couples, or any other couples for that matter, sat on the top deck of the bus. An elderly man sat at the front, a large, full-bent billiard pipe hanging from the side of his mouth.

  A distinctive aroma, slightly nutty with a trace of vanilla, wafted back to her, reminding her of her late Father, as he too smoked a pipe.

  But, it was not this fascinating her, causing her to watch him intently.

  Occasionally, a large pummel of white smoke would billow from his mouth, taking to the air and trailing passed her head, seated a few rows behind.

  Her imagination, turned the wafts of smoke into the billowing smoke of a steam liner and she allowed herself to let her mind wander, imagining her new life down under.

  She needed to think of it positively, but still her mind was plagued with doubt.

  She loved Harrowby Street, her neighbours, her friends, her job in the shop. But, she knew she was unable to endure much more abuse and humiliation from Henry.

  Allowing herself to imagine the possible new life ahead, simultaneous thoughts swiftly entered her head.

  Where am I going and what am I doing?

  She knew where she was going, Town.

  But increasingly, the plague of doubt rushed through her thoughts, strong currents trying to drown her glimmer of hope.

  Keep thinking of the future.

  Looking out, passing the overhead railway at Seaforth she felt pangs of sadness, as shortly she may not be seeing it again, or taking her son there to take a trip into Town.

  We’ll have new sights and places to see, creating new memories.

  The journey into the city centre, did not take half as long as she anticipated.

  She found the swirling sensation she was experiencing in her stomach, escalated and threatening to make her physically sick.

  Presently, the bus pulled up at its destination and she descended from the upper deck uneasily, her legs feeling they may give way any second.

  “Are you alright love?” A voice said from behind her.

  Turning around, she found it belonged to the old man.

  “Yes, err, yes, I’m fine thank you, just getting over a cold,” she lied.

  “Aye, the weather is too unpredictable here,” he said, “you should get yourself off to somewhere hot, like Australia. My son has recently moved there with his family and they love every second of it.”

  She studied him silently.

  He appeared to be in his seventies, a thick white beard falling upon his chest, the whiskers around his mouth stained yellow with nicotine.

  There was something familiar about his eyes, but she was unable to fathom, where she may have met him before.

  “Oh, that’s err, lovely for them,” she replied, beckoning for her to disembark from the bus, with a gentlemanly flourish of his arm.

  “Did you not think of going with them?” She asked.

  “No love, it’s alright for the youngsters, but too late in the day for the likes of me, who’s way passed getting long in the tooth,for that sort of malarkey,” he replied, smiling warmly, “any-roads, I’d best be off now, as I’ve things to meet and people to do as it were.”

  Giving her a nod of his head, he disappeared into the large crowd of people passing them by.

  Staring after him open mouthed, she shook herself from her trance and walked along the street to Lewis’s.

  Upon reaching the doorway she looked around, her eyes scanning the large crowds of people, walking along the street.

  Where is he?

  Her stomach felt empty, as the thought occurred to her, he may not be coming to meet her.

  I’ve been such a fool.

  Her eyes darted left and right, in the hope of seeing him.

  I know he said it was only for a friendly cuppa. Maybe it’s because I told him I’m married, that’s why he is not here. Why couldn’t he have just said? Why did have to tell me he’d meet me? Why…

  “Sorry I’m late Sheila,” the baritone voice behind her, interrupted her thoughts, “but I realised I’d forgotten to pick up some of these.”

  She turned slowly, her heart racing.

  He’s here!

  Towering above her, his broad shoulders masking her view of the pavement beyond, his outstretched hand held a bunch of brightly coloured flowers.

  “What, oh, you shouldn’t have,” she stuttered, taking the offered bunch from his hand, feeling strangely excited as her fingers brushed against his.

  “The least I could do,” he replied, in a voice heavy as rock.

  “Why’s that?”

  “Oh, because you give me a reason to believe that going to Australia,” he replied, “is the best decision I’ve ever made, that’s why.”

  She stood open-mouthed.

  “I’m sorry for being so forward Sheila,” he said, a genuine air of embarrassment in his voice.

  “Err, that’s okay. Shall we go for that cup of tea?”

  Walking into the large Lewis’s store, they headed straight to the café inside.

  Sheila was completely mesmerised, by the gentle giant she found herself in the company of.

  The afternoon flew by, whilst they chatted. Sheila found Arne to be an attentive companion, listening intently to her words. Words appearing to possess a lif
e of their own, as she opened up to this man she barely knew.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, “I didn’t mean to burden you with my troubles.”

  Arne smiled across the table at her, pouring her another tea from the teapot between them.

  “Don’t be silly Sheila,” Arne said smiling, “a problem shared, is a problem halved they say.”

  She returned his smile, accepting the fresh cup of tea he offered her.

  She spoke of Wally, her job, her dreams.

  And surprisingly to her, her unhappy marriage.

  She was careful to not divulge exactly how far the extent of her husband’s cruelty went. But, there was a look in Arne’s eyes, to say he already surmised it was something much more than emotional cruelty, to make her wish to emigrate to Australia with her son.

  “So,” he said, “your mind is made up then, over emigrating?”

  She found herself staring into the cup held in her hand.

  “Not really,” she answered quietly, “I have so many friends here, as does Wally and I really do love my job.”

  She looked up from the cup to meet his stare, her eyes staring deeply into his.

  “How about you?” She asked.

  “Same here,” he answered smiling, “I mean to say, I don’t have any children, always been too busy to settle down and marry. And as I mentioned I certainly don’t have a job to hold me back now. But I guess that’s one of the reasons, why I’m looking at going.”

  “Why’s that?” Sheila asked.

  “Well, I don’t really have anything to stay here for,” he replied, his eyes not leaving hers.

  They kept their gaze for a few moments more, both hoping the other read in their eyes, words they were unable to speak.

  “Well, it’s been a wonderful afternoon,” Sheila managed to say, “thank you Arne, I really mean that. But, I’ll have to get going back now, to make sure my Wally is alright.”

  She began to move her chair back, but found Arne moved with a speed deceptive of his size, to stand behind her, gently moving it for her.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “No, thank you Sheila,” he replied, “this afternoon has been lovely.”

  They left the department store and stood on the steps outside, the city centre still bustling with life and activity.

  “May I walk you, to the bus stop?” he asked.

  “That’d be nice,” she replied.

  They walked along the pavement to the bus depot, Arne’s size ensuring the crowd, did not hinder them too much.

  “Well,” he said, as they approached her bus, “hopefully, we can meet again.”

  “Maybe,” she replied, “maybe.”

  “Do you have far to go?” He asked.

  “Just to Seaforth.”

  “Oh, I have a friend who lives there, Morris,” he replied, “I used to work with him at the Brewery. Lives on Gladstone road. I call in now and again, so maybe we’ll bump into one and other?”

  Gladstone Road? That’s at the end of our street!

  Her mind raced with the possibilities of what would happen, if Henry ever found out she had met up with Arne.

  What if Arne stops me in the street and Henry finds out?

  Knowing instinctively, the worrying thoughts racing through her mind, he held her hand gently as she stepped onto the bus.

  “But, I’d never stop you, talk to you, wave across at you or anything,” he said, pausing, “unless of course, maybe I bump into you in Australia.”

  Smiling at him, she let go of his hand and headed to her seat.

  She waved through the window at the large man stood on the pavement, receiving a wave in return.

  As the bus pulled away from the depot, she closed her eyes and smiled.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Turning the car slowly into the bottom end of Harrowby Street, the driver became aware at least several children played in the street itself, even though the early evening brought with it a fine drizzle.

  Stopping playing their various games, catching sight of the impressive vehicle, several of the children ran to it.

  “Wow, what type is it?”

  “That’s smart that is Mister.”

  “How much did that cost Mister?”

  “Can I have a go?”

  The driver, politely tolerating the children, edged slowly to the terraced house, where he dropped the girl and her Mother the previous evening.

  Switching off the ignition, he stepped out to find the children had kept up with his car and now stood around it, still asking the same type of questions.

  As before, he was polite enough to be tolerant with them, understanding most of these children more than likely, had not seen a car such as his before.

  The front door to number Twelve opened and Robert stepped onto the pavement.

  He stared at the man, engaged in small talk with the other children.

  He certainly looks the part, look at the clobber on him!

  “Good evening, young man,” the man said, richly, “is Iris at home?”

  “Iris? Our Iris?” Robert asked, interrupted by his Mother, gently pushing him behind her.

  “Go fetch your sister will you Robert, there’s a good lad,” she instructed him, before turning to Tobias.

  “Mr Anderson, such a pleasure to meet you again.”

  “The pleasure is entirely mine Mrs Bennett, I can assure you.” He replied smiling.

  “Won’t you come in?” She asked, smiling in return.

  “Certainly, thank you so much,” he replied, whilst she held the front door open, stepping back to allow him to entry.

  Whilst he entered the hallway, she took an opportunity to cast a glance along the street, counting at least several of her neighbours standing outside their own houses, some by themselves, some in pairs, but all looking across in the direction of number Twelve, with the expensive car parked outside.

  “First door on your left,” she said, entering the hallway, closing the door behind her.

  Tobias entered the parlour, pleasantly surprised to find it was not as ramshackle, nor dirty as he anticipated.

  “Please, take a seat,” Patty said, gesturing to the sofa.

  Smiling, Tobias seated himself.

  “Iris will be down in a moment, you know what girls are like these days Mr Anderson,” she said, “would you like a cup of tea Mr Anderson?”

  “Please Mrs Bennett, call me Tobias and a cup of tea would be delightful, thank you so very much,” he replied, inwardly dreading the thought of whatever concoction she would present him with.

  Best to keep up appearances and all of that.

  Smiling, Patty retreated to the kitchen to make the tea.

  Tobias looked around the tiny room with its sparse, yet surprisingly clean furniture and furnishings.

  How quaint.

  Noticing the framed photographs on the bureau beneath the large oval mirror, he rose from the sofa, walking across the room to where they stood.

  Amongst several of the photographs located upon the lacy cloth covering the top of the bureau, was one of a handsome looking man in a uniform he immediately recognised as that of His Majesty’s Royal navy.

  The eyes staring back at him from the photograph appeared the same as the girls he arrived to accompany this evening. The dimple in the centre of his chin enunciating his handsome features, serving the same purpose in the man’s daughter.

  To Tobias, there was no denying the man in the photograph was Iris’s Father, the resemblance was too strong to deny.

  Picking up the photograph to examine it closely, he tried ascertaining what type of ship it was the figure stood upon.

  “Now, what are you?” He asked aloud.

  “She is, or rather was, HMS Laforey,” Iris’s voice spoke from the doorway.

  He turned, surprised and delighted to find her looking stunning in her long cream dress.

  Her hair held up, ringlets fell across her forehead.

  “Iris my dear, you look positive
ly radiant,” he said, returning the picture to its place on the bureau, before walking across the room to her.

  “Thank you,” she replied, feeling her cheeks redden.

  Upon reaching her, he lifted one of her hands in his own and placed a kiss atop of it.

  She did not feel the same warm feeling she experienced, when David held her hand.

  David’s touch made her feel electricity coursed through her veins, touching each fibre of her being.

  “Oh,” Patty exclaimed, walking around Iris brandishing a tray with her best china upon it, “you look beautiful our Iris.”

  “She certainly does Mrs Bennett, but I did not wish to sound out of place nor term, by using that description,” Tobias said, “she does you proud.”

  Placing the tray upon the wooden table in the middle of the lounge, Patty turned to get a better look at her eldest child.

  Oh my, she really does look ever so beautiful. Her Father would be so proud.

  Smiling at her daughter, Patty fought hard to keep herself from crying.

  She knew her daughter was blessed with her Father’s handsome features, but she did not once see her adorning her make-up and clothes, the way she did at that moment.

  “I’ve made you both a lovely cuppa,” she managed to say, without her voice betraying her emotions.

  “Why, thank you so much Mrs Bennett,” Tobias said, beckoning with his hand for Iris to be seated, “that is delightful.”

  “Please, call me Patty,” she said, before turning and heading along the hallway to the kitchen.

  Iris turned to call out to her, but Tobias patted his hand on the sofa.

  “It seems your charming Mother has produced only two cups,” he said with a flourish of his hand at the tray on the table, “let us do her the honour of drinking them, before we make haste to the Adelphi.”

  Iris felt embarrassed, though not understanding why.

  “Err, yes, lets,” she replied, taking a cup from the tray.

  They sat for a while drinking their tea in silence, before Tobias gestured to an item on the mantelpiece.

  “That looks quaint, rather interesting, what is it if I may be bold as to enquire?”

  Iris looked to the mantelpiece, where sat a music box, with a Mother of pearl door previously opening to reveal a pirouetting ballerina.