by Joanna Larum
“It’s my copy of my will.” Nana said when she had perused the top sheet. “Anthony’s had it all legally tied up so it can’t be ignored when I die. Put it in the top drawer of my dressing table, will you? There’s a good girl. I can rest happy now that I know that’s been done. Will you do me one more little task today, Victoria? Will you promise me that you will let Mr Vine know when I die, as quickly as you can? I want him to start carrying out my wishes as soon as he can after I’ve gone.”
“Nana, please don’t distress yourself.” Victoria begged. “Please don’t talk about dying like that. You are frightening me, now. It’s almost as though you want to die tonight.”
Nana Lymer shook her head vigorously and then helped herself to one of the biscuits that Victoria had put on the tray.
“Rubbish.” She declared, twinkling her eyes at her granddaughter. “Let’s finish the story now, shall we? I’ve nearly told you all there is to tell. What happened after this was incredibly boring, so I’m sure you won’t want to hear about the rest of my life.”
“That was the turning point in our relationship.” Nana Lymer continued with the story. “After that night, Sam and I became more than friends. We had both tasted every nuance of the full load of human emotions and Sam losing his two boys seemed to balance out the death of Simon. There was only one road left that we could travel together and that was as proper partners in life- as husband and wife. We waited a little while until we felt it was acceptable for us both to make this commitment, when no-one could say that we had married because I was looking for a replacement for William or that Sam didn’t know what he was doing so close to losing both his boys and then we made arrangements to close the shop and have the quietest wedding ever in the Registry Office on Middlesbrough Road.”
“All three of Sam’s girls were bridesmaids for us and Sam bought them all a gold chain with a small locket as presents for wishing us both well. Annie gave me away because I didn’t have any other family and Sam bought her the same gold chain, which she cherished for the rest of her life. She had been very quiet after we had told her that we were getting married and I worried that she thought I shouldn’t have been looking for any happiness in this life after the loss of Simon, but, when I finally got the truth out of her it was so much simpler than that. She thought that Sam and I wouldn’t want her to continue living with us after we got married, because she wasn’t a family member and we had no duty to care for her. I soon disabused her of that notion and she finally accepted that we looked on her as family and that we wouldn’t tolerate her moving away from us. If the truth were known, I would get a cold sweat at the thought of her moving away, because she was as important to me as my bones were.”
“The three girls were all delighted that their father was going to marry me. Sarah admitted that they had been dropping hints to Sam for weeks for him to ‘pop the question’ but he had acted remarkably obtuse about the subject. They were even more pleased when they discovered that it was to be a spring wedding and that they were all to get new dresses for the occasion. They all made a trip to the wild meadow over behind the railway line and came back with armfuls of early spring flowers which they wove into coronets and wore atop their shining curls. I carried a bunch of wild violets which Hannah had managed to find in some hidden corner of the meadow and they released a delicate scent for the rest of the day, so beautiful that I am transported back to that wonderful day whenever I catch even a faint whiff of the perfume.”
Nana Lymer didn’t even pause for breath, but carried straight on to the next part of the story. It was obvious to Victoria that she fully intended getting through the rest of the story that day and nobody was going to stop her.
“In the run-up to the wedding, I had worried about the age difference between Sammy and I. He was forty seven and I was thirty three and fourteen years is a big age gap. I didn’t want the town gossips spreading vitriol about me marrying an older man for his money, as the townsfolk knew that Sammy rented out houses, but no-one knew I was part-owner of those houses. They would think I only had the income from my shop and my bit of pawn brokering and might look on me as a gold digger, marrying an older man for his money. When I mentioned this to Annie she laughed my fears away.”
“‘Fourteen years is nothing, Bia.’ She said, when I mentioned my concerns to her. ‘Any lass needs a man with a bit of maturity and there’s so many war widows marrying anything so long as it wears trousers to give themselves and their bairns a bit of security, that nobody is going to say anything about you. Anyway, you’ve only got to see the way you two smile at each other to know that you’re both in love. You worry too much about everything. Take a deep breath and get out there and enjoy your wedding day without worrying what other folks may say.’”
“She was right, as Annie usually was, although I took a few deep breaths, not just the one. I didn’t think that one would be sufficient. It was a wonderful day and we left the girls with Annie after the ceremony and went to Redcar on the train. The sun shone, although there was a chilly breeze coming off the sea, as there usually is at Redcar, but I was well wrapped up in my new shawl which I had crocheted for that day and so we walked along the sea front, watching the water lapping on the shore. It was so peaceful a scene that it was almost unbelievable that such death and destruction had come out of that same sea eighteen months before. We couldn’t help but wonder if the cruel ships would come again during this terrible war and wreak the same amount of damage again. It was the only dark moment of that glorious day, which soon dissipated when we left the sea front and went and had afternoon tea in the tea shop on the corner opposite the clock.”
“‘I’d like to run a teashop.’ I said to Sammy as we ate cucumber sandwiches and delicate little cakes from porcelain plates. ‘I’m sure I could make a go of it. I’ve got plenty of recipes for scones and cakes, people love the ones I sell in the shop, so the next step is to sell them with a cup of tea in a nice place like this.’”
“‘Don’t you ever stop, Bia?’ Sammy laughed, his face crinkling in the way I loved so much. ‘It’s our wedding day and here you are talking about wanting to open another shop! Business can wait until tomorrow; let’s enjoy being waited-on today.’
“He was right, of course, I did concentrate too much on business, but it had become a way of life for me and when I got an idea into my head which I thought would prove profitable, I wanted to run with it. So I tucked the idea away into the back of my mind for that day at least and concentrated on being happy for the rest of that day.”
“We caught the last train back from Redcar to Middlesbrough, getting off at the station and strolling up Station Road, past Turner’s the photographers and Mr Vine’s solicitors office, before turning into King Street, from where we could see the shop in the distance on the corner with Queen Street.”
“‘I wonder how many times I’ve walked this road since the war started.’ I said. ‘I remember going to see Mr Vine about starting my shop in Albion Street, when I was renting the house from him. If he hadn’t given his permission for me to use the parlour for my shop, I don’t know what I would have done. I certainly wouldn’t have succeeded as well as I have.’”
“‘He’s done a lot for us.’ Sammy agreed. ‘We’ve used him for all of our property buying and I’m sure he charges us under the going rate. I think he’s always had a soft spot for you, so he reduces the charges. It has its good points, being married to you, you know, cheap solicitor’s fees!’”
“‘I hope that isn’t the only reason you married me, Mr Lymer.’ I laughed.”
“‘No, Bia. I could think of a million reasons for marrying you and cheap solicitor’s fees would still be at the bottom of the list.’”
“He swung me round by my arm and we stood in the middle of the street and kissed and cuddled like youngsters. Laughing, we turned back towards Queen Street and started walking again until Sammy put his hand on my arm and drew me to a halt.”
“‘That’s Annie; she’s out in the stre
et. She must be looking for us.’”
I stared ahead, trying to make out Annie’s figure in the sparse light, immediately worrying what could have happened that she was outside waiting for us. My heart was hammering loudly and I was breathing with difficulty, afraid that something bad had happened.”
“Oh please, not today of all days.’ I moaned. ‘Please don’t let our day be spoilt by any more disasters.’”
“I didn’t know what or who I was praying to, my faith in a god having left me during the dock bombardment, but here I was, praying again. Sammy grabbed my hand and we ran down the road to meet Annie, who was trying to see if it was us in the darkness.”
“‘It is you.’ She exclaimed, as soon as we got close enough to her for her to be able to see us. ‘Thank goodness. I didn’t know when you would be home.’”
“‘What’s happened, Annie?’ Sam was as worried as I was, I could tell by his clipped tone. ‘Is it one of the girls? Which one? Is she ok?’”
“The questions were tumbling out of his mouth, one after the other, not leaving Annie any time to answer any of them. She took Sam by his hand.”
“‘Come away in, lad. It’s one of them telegram things. It came this afternoon after you’d gone off to Redcar and I didn’t know when you would be back.’”
“We were inside the house by this time and the three girls turned their worried faces towards us from where they were sitting grouped round the kitchen table. The telegram was in solitary state, face up in the middle of the table.”
“‘It’s for you, Dad.’ Hannah was almost whispering with the fear of it. ‘The boy took it to our old house but Mr Stevens next door sent him round here with it, knowing that we are living here now. We didn’t know what to do with it.’”
“She looked up at her father, her brown eyes huge with concern and her merry face creased with worry.”
“‘I don’t understand,’ Sammy said, slowly. ‘We’ve nobody else at the Front, not since George and William died, so why are we getting another telegram?’”
“That was the way of it during the War. We were all so used to getting the worst news in the form of a telegram that nobody remembered that they could be used for other news as well and their arrival always caused the deepest concern. Sam picked the telegram up and turned it over in his hand. Puzzlement was etched across his features as he opened it and began reading its contents. Then the hand that was holding it dropped to his side and a huge grin spread across his face.”
“‘It’s Bill.’ He gasped out. ‘He’s not dead! They’ve found him in a casualty clearing station, wounded but alive. He’s on his way home! That’s the perfect end to a perfect day!’”
“We all rejoiced at this news. The girls were overjoyed because they were getting their big brother back, Sam was overjoyed because he was getting one son back and Annie was happy because everyone else was happy. I was the only one with reservations. Oh I was ecstatic for Sam and the girls, but I had never met Bill. What if he didn’t like me or didn’t like the idea of his father getting married again? The girls were happy for me to be their step-mother, but they were still really children. Bill was twenty one and a man. He may have had a different idea altogether.”
“Annie saw me hanging back from the group of Lymers who were hugging and laughing and she moved round the table until she was standing next to me.”
“‘What is it, Bia? Aren’t you pleased that he’s coming home?’”
“Of course I am, how couldn’t I be? But what if he doesn’t like me? What if he thinks Sam shouldn’t have got married again and takes against me?’”
“‘You silly girl.’ Annie said in her forthright way. ‘Why do you always fear the worst? He’ll love you because his father does and because you are one of the kindest and nicest people he could ever hope to meet. Now, stop worrying and join in with the celebrations. I’m going to get that bottle of sherry you got me for Christmas and we’ll all have a double toast – one for your wedding and one for Bill’s return,’”
“So I tried to shake off the remaining doubts I had and we all had a glass of sherry, even the girls. Sam mixed theirs with some of my home-made lemonade so that it was mostly innocuous and we solemnly toasted our wedding and Bill’s return from the dead.”
.“‘Life is going to be better for all of us from now on.’ Sam declared as he raised his glass in the toast. ‘To the Lymer family and our new and better lives.’”
“‘To us and our better lives.’ We all chorused together.
Chapter Sixteen
Nana Lymer paused and eased her shoulders away from her pillow. She grimaced slightly as she did so and Victoria automatically leant forward and rearranged the pillows behind her, to make her more comfortable.
“I bet you would make a pretty good job of caring for me even if you had your eyes closed.” Nana smiled at her granddaughter.
“Yes, I’m number one nurse now,” she agreed. “But I don’t mind. I quite like it when I know that I can do something for you that makes you feel better.”
“I know you do, pet, but I don’t want to be a burden on you and if you’re looking after me then I’m stopping you from living your own life. Nobody has the right to use another person’s life like that. You only get one go at this living game, so you’ve got to make the most of it. My story is nearly finished now and, when it is, I want you to promise me you’ll stop thinking about my past life and concentrate on living your own life to its fullest extent.”
Victoria promised, although at that moment, she couldn’t see beyond the next few minutes, wanting only that Nana would finish the story. Mrs Lymer seemed to be able to sense this impatience wafting from her granddaughter, so she settled herself a little more comfortably and began again.
“I needn’t to have worried about Bill’s reaction to my marrying Sam. When he arrived home, about three weeks after our wedding, I realised he was the carbon copy of his father, always smiling and always seeing the best in life and in other people. He soon settled in with us although he was determined that he was going to recover from his wounds and go back to work. But I could tell from the moment he walked into the kitchen when he first came home that he was never going to work again. The wounds he carried, particularly to his legs and stomach, were too severe to ever allow him to return to a normal life and in my opinion he was never going to make old bones. He adapted happily, however, to becoming our amateur accountant, a task he carried out with great diligence and accuracy.”
“It was about that time that we realised that the Queen Street shop and house were far too small for the family that we now had and began looking for somewhere bigger. I had had a hankering to own one of the large houses off Normanby Road for quite some time and we were both delighted when we found just such a house on our first serious house-seeking expedition. There was an immense amount of land that came with the house and Sam soon came up with a use for it. He decided he was going to open a market garden and, with the help of Charlie who was promoted from working on the allotment near the railway lines, he set to with a will and soon had the whole garden set out and producing foodstuffs. It proved to be as profitable as our other business ventures and it wasn’t long before he was looking to hire more men to help. He found three good workers, all lads who had served their time on the battlefields of Flanders and France and had returned home from the war expecting to find a land that was oozing milk and honey to welcome home its saviours and found a land that had turned its back on them.”
“We had a very happy life in our new house, bolstered by the arrival of our joint ventures in the shape of David, born 1919; Abia, born 1920 and baby Annabel, born 1921. Sammy said Annabel was far too posh a name for a little scrap of a lass from Middlesbrough, but gave in when I explained that her name was to be shortened to Annie, an event which made our ‘big Annie’ gleam with pride. ‘Little Annie’ was a pleasure to have around, with a nature as sunny as that of her father and her older brother, David. Abia, however, was a different kettle of fis
h altogether. From birth, she viewed the world around her through piercing eyes, judging all who came within her sphere and finding all wanting, apart from her father. For him, she would smile and occasionally chuckle at his antics, for the rest of the world she showed her dislike and disapprobation with narrowed eyes, a sneer on her mouth and her nose lifted into the air. By the time she was five years old even Sam could see that she was totally without any humour, had a boredom level which didn’t reach the height of the skirting boards and lacked any trace of empathy or compassion. It was her presence in our lives that made me a great believer in the ‘nature not nurture’ school of child-rearing. She hasn’t changed as she has grown older, she still acts as though nobody could ever attain her high standards of intelligence and behaviour and I still don’t understand what your father sees in her. I could ignore it all if she wasn’t so vindictive towards you, as though you had personally set out to make her life a misery. Never mind, you’ll be able to escape when you go to college.”
Victoria didn’t answer these comments because her relationship with her mother was a very sensitive subject for her. She had grown up knowing that her mother didn’t like her, in fact, at times, her mother actively disliked her and she had no idea why this was so. She couldn’t remember ever having committed some unforgivable sin which could explain why she produced this hatred in her mother and, consequently, she was incredibly insecure and vulnerable, a state of mind she tried to hide by always being the first to make fun of herself.
Over the Christmas holidays, while she had been listening to her grandmother’s tale of her life during the First World War, Victoria had matured immensely. It was almost as though learning of the terrible events which had shaped her grandmother’s life had made her grow up faster and grow a carapace round her insecurities which her mother could no longer penetrate. Victoria had no idea how this had happened or even why it had happened but it had given her the confidence to ignore the vitriol which emanated from her mother and had wrapped a shield round her tiny ego so that it wasn’t pierced by any spoken daggers.