There was the merest hesitation. ‘I haven’t told her.’
‘Not told her?’ Mercy was appalled. ‘Joey, you’ve got this far with your plans and you’ve never once consulted her? That is awful. This place is her home, even if you don’t think much of it. She lived here long before you came on the scene, don’t forget!’
‘All right, there’s no need to jump on me,’ snapped Joey.
‘Yes, there is, because it seems I’m the only one who ever calls you to order. Queenie never would! She’s a nice woman, and she deserves some consideration. Far more than you give her!’
‘All right! All right! I’ll tell her about my plans.’
‘No you won’t, Joey! You’ll discuss your plans with her! There’s a difference!’
‘And what do I tell her about your part in this?’
‘Nothing, because it’s nothing to do with me.’
‘You mean you won’t help me?’ Joey was dismayed.
‘I don’t know yet. I’ll give you my answer after you’ve consulted Queenie.’
‘Queenie always falls in with my plans,’ said Joey, impatient again. ‘Why won’t you give your decision now, or at least say you’ll think about it?’
‘Queenie might disagree this time. It’s a pretty momentous step. And I refuse to consider the matter until she has agreed to it fully, without you bullying her into it.’
‘I don’t bully her!’ protested Joey indignantly.
‘You do a passable imitation at times.’
Joey glared at his sister for a moment, then he grew shamefaced.
‘I don’t mean to,’ he said. ‘I suppose I’ve got a bit short in the temper lately.’
‘You’ve had your reasons,’ Mercy said more gently. ‘Talk things over with her; but calmly, mind! I’ll come back in a couple of days. If she is in agreement, then we’ll discuss the matter further.’
‘If that’s the way you want it, Mercy.’ He paused and looked at her sheepishly. ‘And thanks!’
‘You haven’t anything to thank me for yet,’ smiled Mercy, rising to go. ‘Oh, and one more thing. Don’t let Queenie know you’ve talked to me about this before you mentioned it to her. She’d be terribly hurt! As far as she’s concerned this is just an ordinary family visit!’
‘All right! You’re the boss, Sis! You always were!’
Mercy gave a derisory snort. ‘Liar!’ she said cheerfully, and kissed him on the cheek. ‘See you in two days.’
Queenie did not ask the purpose of Mercy’s visit. It would never have occurred to her to do such a thing. All the same, Joey felt obliged to offer some explanation.
‘She came over to ask after Ma and Lizzie. She hasn’t heard from them in some time,’ he improvised.
‘Oh…’ Queenie accepted his account totally.
‘Are you busy? Too busy to give me a push as far as Torbay Road?’ Joey asked suddenly. He had to broach the subject sometime. Now was as good as ever.
‘Of course I’m not too busy,’ Queenie beamed.
‘Right, then let’s go. There’s something I want to show you.’
The For Sale board was still on the property when they got there.
‘Nice looking place,’ remarked Joey.
‘Yes, it is.’
‘Someone with a bit of go could really make something of it, couldn’t they? It’s an ideal spot for a cafe or something like that.’
‘Yes, it is.’ Queenie sounded a little bewildered. She could sense there was a hidden significance in Joey’s, and she was at a loss to know what it was.
‘Wouldn’t it be grand if we had somewhere like this?’
‘But this is far beyond us!’ she said hastily, suddenly nervous.
‘Is it? Don’t you think the three of us – you, me, and Millie Baxter – could run a place like this? I think we could turn it into a smashing cafe. A really smart one, with tablecloths and matching cups and saucers. Maybe even flowers on the table. What do you think of that?’
‘It sounds lovely.’ For a moment she was carried away by the picture he painted. Then she added. ‘It sounds ever so grand, though. Far too grand for us.’
‘If I’m grand enough to get my foot shot off for my country then surely I’m grand enough to run a flaming cafe!’ retorted Joey angrily.
‘Of course you are. I only meant… I meant that it would cost a lot… More than we’ve got…’
He had upset her, which was the last thing he wanted. ‘Maybe not. Not if we sold the place in Church Street,’ he said more quietly.
‘Sell the house? We couldn’t!’
‘Why not? It’s ours to sell.’ Seeing the stunned expression in her eyes he tried another tack. ‘You know, a good cook like you is wasted running a lodging-house. Just think of all the lovely things you could make if we had a cafe – the scones and the pies and the fruit cakes – the stuff you love doing but don’t get time for.’
‘I’m not good enough… not for a cafe.’
‘You are! You’re a first-rate cook, and I’ll have something to say to anyone who argues! I defy anyone to better your gingerbread!’
‘Oh!’ gasped Queenie, torn between pleasure as his praise and terror at the enormity of his ideas. ‘We haven’t enough money…’
‘Not right at this moment, we haven’t. Funnily enough there was a fellow came round the other day. He was looking for a property like ours to turn into a garage. He was offering a pretty good sum – one I don’t see us bettering.’
‘Did you accept?’
‘Without consulting you?’ Joey looked aghast at the idea. ‘Tell you what! Just for the fun of it let’s look round the back.’
‘We shouldn’t… It’s not right… Let’s not…’
In spite of her protests Queenie allowed herself to be persuaded into pushing Joey to the lane at the back. She protested more when he reached up and opened the gate.
It swung open to reveal a modest garden leading up to the rear of the building. Queenie hung back fearfully, so Joey was obliged to propel himself by pushing his hands along the wall. He reached the back area and peered in through the window.
‘Queenie, come and see this!’ he urged.
Reluctantly she joined him, pressing her face against the glass.
‘Oh!’ she gave a sigh of awe. ‘The whole kitchen’s lovely, it would be ever so easy to keep clean. It hasn’t got a sink, though! How funny! There isn’t anywhere to wash up.’
‘There is!’ said Joey! ‘Here in the scullery. Have a look!’
Queenie looked. She regarded the large shining stoneware sink, the gleaming taps, the ample draining boards, the draining rack for the crockery, and compared them to the cracked, dilapidated equipment she was forced to use.
Joey watched her face.
‘The stove looks efficient,’ he remarked. ‘I bet it would give you all the hot water you want.’
Her face brightened at the prospect of constant hot. But it dropped again. ‘We still couldn’t manage it,’ she said sadly. ‘Whatever we got for our place, it would never be enough to buy this.’
Joey allowed a moment to elapse before he answered.
‘I wonder if Mercy might lend us some?’ he said, as though he had just thought of the idea. ‘Or maybe she would care to be a partner in the business. What do you think?’
Queenie did not reply. She had gone back to have another look at the kitchen.
Even if Mercy had not already made up her mind to help financially she doubted if she could have withstood the eager pleading in her brother’s eyes. The moment she was shown into the back parlour, two days later, his desperation seemed to reach out to her.
‘All right,’ she said laughing, before he could say a word. ‘How much do you need?’
They spent the whole afternoon talking finance. Queenie blenched at the sum Mercy offered to lend them.
‘That’s an awful lot? Can you spare it? I’m sure we could manage with less.’
‘I dare say you could,’ said Mercy. ‘But it will give
you a bit in hand to tide you over any difficult patches. And it’s to be a straight loan, without interest. You’ll be doing all the work and so you deserve the profits. Besides…’ She eased her back, which was beginning to ache. ‘I’ve enough to bother about at the moment without getting involved in business affairs.’
She regretted her casual remark immediately, for a shadow crossed Queenie’s face. Joey, however, was too overwhelmed by his sister’s generosity to notice his wife’s sadness.
‘Are you sure? I mean, it is a lot of money,’ he gasped.
‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to lose it, am I? And I can spare it at the moment. Peter gives me a very generous, and I’m spending very little on myself these days. Before you get carried away, though, hadn’t you two better have a proper look at the place?’
‘I’ll go and see the estate agent now!’ Joey was already reaching for his crutches.
* * *
‘I believe you are looking at the property with the idea of running it as a business as well as a home, Mr Seaton?’ remarked the agent, opening the front door for Joey and Queenie.
‘Yes. A cafe.’
‘Oh, ideal! You couldn’t have a better spot. Let me show you the kitchen and service area.’
For over an hour Joey hauled himself from room to room, up and downstairs, opening doors and windows, peering into cupboards. It did not matter that he was covered in perspiration or that his body was one great ache with fatigue. He drove himself on to the point of exhaustion.
‘Does this property seem to meet with your requirements?’ asked the agent tentatively, when at last there was nothing more to examine.
Joey pulled a doubtful face.
‘I must warn you, this type of building is very much sought after,’ the agent said hurriedly. ‘I’ll do my best to hold it for you while you consider it, but if someone else makes a definite offer…’
‘What do you think, Queenie?’ Joey turned to his wife.
Poor Queenie was too alarmed to make such a momentous decision.
‘It’s up to you, dear,’ she said.
‘The place seems satisfactory enough.’ Joey chose his words carefully and with deliberation. ‘We could make something of it, given a chance. Sadly, I think we’re going to have to say no. Very reluctantly, mind. It’s the price, you see. It’s a bit above our touch, I’m afraid.’
‘The price? And… and is that your only objection?’ Emotions between hope and desperation flickered over the face of the young agent. Joey guessed it had been quite a time since he had made a sale. ‘Well, I suppose I could approach the seller, with a view to a reduction. He is a very reasonable gentleman, and when I explain the sacrifices you’ve made for your country… Yes, I think I can assure you he’ll reduce the price.’
‘By how much?’ asked Joey.
‘Fifty pounds,’ was the prompt reply.
‘We’ll have it,’ said Joey.
It took him a full week to realize the enormity of the step he had taken; a full week of bemused disbelief. When he finally came out of his dazed state it was to realize how much there was to be done. In the same week that the contracts were exchanged his discharge from the Army came through.
The day when they moved into the house in Torbay Road was the most thrilling of Joey’s whole life. He felt that finally he had put a foot – his only foot, as he wryly observed to himself – on the ladder of success. After the excitement came the hectic activity and the problems. A major difficulty was having to master the bureaucratic web that would ensure they would have food to offer their customers. There were moments when even he wondered if he had taken on too much.
One thing was certain, he would never have managed without Mercy. Quite apart from her financial help she was a constant source of encouragement and advice. At first she always deferred to Queenie, until she finally realized that her sister-in-law was quite out of her depth in matters of decor and furnishing, and happy to leave the choice to others.
Decor! That was Mercy’s fancy word for the paint on the walls, and the lino on the floor. Fancy or not, she certainly had a flair for making the ordinary look special. Mercy had suggested covering the plain deal tables they bought with red checked cloths to give a continental air to the place. It was Mercy who had ordinary butter muslin made into curtains, draping them until they looked like something out of a smart magazine. The pictures brightening the plain walls, the pot plants bringing a refreshing touch of greenery to the darker corners, they were all found by Mercy.
Buying crockery proved the greatest setback. Thanks to the general shortages it seemed impossible to purchase any sort of china in quantity, never mind something attractive. It threatened to delay their opening.
‘I’ll have to have a word with Mercy. Perhaps she’ll have a few ideas,’ he said, when yet another potential supplier was unable to help.
‘I don’t think we should trouble your sister!’ said Queenie. ‘She’s doing too much. Have you forgotten she’s having a baby?’
‘It’s not an easy thing to forget, with her being as big as a house end,’ he blustered. In truth, he had come close to overlooking his sister’s pregnancy. ‘As for being unwell, she’s as strong as an ox, is our Mercy.’
‘She’s been looking very peaky lately,’ Queenie insisted, so firmly that Joey began to feel uneasy.
When next he saw his sister he felt decidedly ashamed. She did look pale, and there were dark shadows under her eyes. He should have noticed sooner, only, he had been too involved with his own affairs.
‘You’re going to have to start taking it easy,’ he said. ‘You’re looking washed out.’
‘Thanks! That’s really boosted my morale.’ Mercy managed a smile.
‘I mean it. You haven’t long to go now, have you?’
‘Only four weeks, hopefully.’
‘Right, from now on we’re going to manage by ourselves.’
‘Does that mean you’ve managed to find your cups and saucers? Oh good! I needn’t make any more inquiries. And just when I thought I was on to some for you, too.’
‘You were?’ exclaimed Joey. ‘Where?’
‘But you don’t need my help, you’ve just told me so.’
‘Don’t be daft. I was thinking about you. Tell me about this crockery.’
‘Someone told me about a guest-house in Teignmouth. The owners are selling up and retiring and they’ve probably still got their crockery. Do you want me to make inquiries?’
‘Certainly I do!’ stated Joey, forgetting his concern for his sister’s health in his excitement. ‘Find out what else they’re selling, while you’re about it. Don’t forget we’ve got four guest bedrooms to furnish.’
‘Are you sure about all four?’ Now it was Mercy’s turn to look concerned. ‘Do you and Queenie have to sleep in the attic? Think of all those stairs.’
‘If I get stuck Millie Baxter’ll help Queenie give me a push. She’s sleeping up there too, in the next room. Besides, soon I’m getting a nice tin foot. I go to get fitted next week.’
‘Oh well, I suppose you know best. I’ll see what I can find in Teignmouth.’
‘Take a taxi, Mercy!’ Joey urged.
‘Don’t you know there’s a war on? I’ll go by bus.’ Two days later Queenie paused in her task of cleaning the windows and exclaimed, ‘Fancy! There’s a furniture van pulling up outside. Oh, and Mercy’s getting out!’ Joey looked out of the window. And there, sure enough, was Mercy coming towards the front door. Behind her two removal men were already lowering the tailgate of the van. Queenie hurried to open the front door.
‘Stand by to receive furniture!’ Mercy announced, as she entered. ‘I went to the house in Teignmouth, and I managed to get a couple of bedroom suites. That’s all they had that were suitable, and even they are a bit old-fashioned. But they are in good condition, and lovely wood, so I hope they’ll do to get you started.’
‘Of course they’ll do!’ cried Joey enthusiastically. ‘Did you just get bedroom furniture?’
‘I got a whole load of china, too. Some nice stuff, although it is quite plain – white, with a blue and gold rim. And I got some kitchen equipment…’
Her voice tailed off oddly, causing Joey to look at her sharply.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked. ‘You look washed-out.’
‘Just a bit tired. It was rather a rush.’ Mercy put a hand against the wall to steady herself.
‘Here, sit down before you fall down.’
Joey’s warning came none too soon, for Mercy crumpled into a nearby armchair, and lay back, her face ashen, her eyes closed.
‘Queenie!’yelled Joey in a panic. ‘Queenie! Millie! For heaven’s sake come!’
Both women came running. Millie Baxter took one look at Mercy and went for the smelling salts and the brandy, while Queenie lifted her sister-in-law’s feet on to a stool and began fanning her with a newspaper. The smelling salts did the trick. Mercy gasped and spluttered, then her eyes opened.
‘Sorry to be such a fool,’ she said limply, waving away the brandy. ‘I just came over faint for a minute.’
‘You haven’t any pain, have you?’ asked Queenie anxiously.
‘Don’t worry, the baby’s not trying to make an early appearance.’ Mercy summoned a smile. ‘It was just a fainting spell, that’s all!’
‘Brought on by doing too much!’ said Queenie. ‘You’ve got to stop, really you have.’
‘Yes, you must!’ Joey insisted. ‘We’re very grateful for all your help. I can’t even begin to say thanks – but you’re not to do anything more for us, do you hear?’
‘I enjoy it, though!’ said Mercy. ‘It’s been fun and—’
‘I’m glad to hear it. All this dashing about on buses! It’s got to stop. We don’t want to see hide nor hair of you until after the baby’s born, and that’s final!’
When Mercy had fully recovered, Joey made sure she went home by taxi. Perhaps it was as well he did. At the end of the week a telegram arrived from Torquay. It said: ‘Jennifer Blanche born twenty-eighth May stop Both well stop Love Mercy.’
Jennifer Blanche! Mercy had called her daughter after their grandmother. How the Old Un would have liked that. Not that she would have shown it. She would have responded with some pithy comment. The thought made Joey smile.
To Dream Again Page 35