The Promise

by Lesley Pearse

  ‘She wasn’t very enthusiastic,’ Belle said as Peggy left them to go home. ‘I wonder why?’

  ‘You can ask Vera later,’ Mog said. ‘But my guess is that she’s the kind that loves lots of people around her and is just a bit disappointed that we are already talking about a home of our own the second day here.’

  Within twenty minutes Mog and Belle had the key to the empty house and were letting themselves in. Like all the buildings here it was wooden, the outside very plain and desperately in need of some replacement clapboards and painting. The steps up to the front door were rotting away and as they opened the door a musty smell made them both wrinkle their noses. A small square hall had four doors going off it and a narrow staircase. The room to the left had been the shoemaker’s workroom and was still littered with scraps of leather, cobbler’s lasts and a long work bench. But it had two windows, as did all the downstairs rooms, one at the front and one to the side, which would make it very light once the windows had been cleaned. The room to the right of the hall was a parlour crammed with very old, worn-out furniture. At the back to the left was a bedroom, again so full of old furniture they could barely get into the room. To the right was an antiquated and filthy kitchen. But there was a door leading from it to a garden. It looked as if it had been well cared for until Mr Phillips’ death, as there were flowering shrubs, rose bushes and what looked like a vegetable garden, all overgrown with long grass and weeds.

  Upstairs there was just one big room, the windows set into the roof at either end. Apart from an old iron bed with a stained mattress there was nothing else up there, and they assumed the owner had lived downstairs for many years.

  ‘I can live with the outside privy,’ Mog said, though she wrinkled her nose. ‘But I can’t be doing with getting water from a pump outside. All the furniture needs burning too. But it is light and bright. And the floorboards seem sound.’ She jumped up and down to illustrate this.

  ‘I suppose we could build a bathroom on to the back or the side and a plumber would be able to pipe water into the kitchen too,’ Belle said thoughtfully. ‘We could get a veranda built along the front of the house. Put up one of those white picket fences. It could be lovely. And we could use the workroom: you do dressmaking, I’ll make hats and we could sell haberdashery too.’

  They were looking at each other speculatively when they heard Vera call out.

  ‘Come on up,’ Belle yelled.

  Vera came running up the stairs. ‘I used to come here quite a lot when I was a kid, Mr Phillips made us all shoes,’ she said breathlessly. ‘His wife was nice, she used to make a fuss of us because they didn’t have any kids of their own. She died before the war. It’s a real mess now though.’

  ‘But it’s got possibilities,’ Mog said, her small face alight with enthusiasm. ‘Mr Henderson said he’d just got notification from the nephew who inherited it that he would get whatever he could for it as he needs money now. I have to make an offer.’

  ‘Well, nobody else will want it. Everyone is down in the dumps over the war and the flu, and no one’s got any money.’

  It was the first time in Mog’s life she’d had money, a great deal more than she ever dreamed of. But just the same, she didn’t intend to be reckless with it.

  ‘How hard will it be to get someone to fix it up?’ she asked. ‘We’d need a bathroom and a range in the kitchen to give us hot water. Then all the outside and the roof needs to be made weatherproof.’

  ‘There will be men queuing at the door to do the work,’ Vera said. ‘But what you need to think about is whether you are sure you want to stay here in Russell. You haven’t been here long enough yet to really know that.’

  ‘I knew I wanted to stay here the minute I stepped off the boat,’ Mog said. ‘It feels right for me. But I don’t know about Belle. You young people need to be somewhere with a bit more going on.’

  Vera looked questioningly at Belle. ‘Do you feel that?’

  ‘We haven’t been here long enough for me to even think about it. But I like the peace and quiet. Anyway, it’s Mog who has the money to buy a house, not me,’ she shrugged. ‘It’s her decision.’

  ‘Yes, it’s up to me whether I buy this house or not,’ Mog said. ‘But what I’m trying to say is that it doesn’t mean you have to be tied here too, Belle. It will be your home, but you must plan what you want to do with your life. I’d hate it if I thought you stayed with me because you felt you had to.’

  Belle frowned at her. ‘But we planned to build up a business together.’

  ‘I know, and I’d like that, of course I would. But there are no young men here, Belle. I don’t want you ending up an old maid. I’d like to see you marry again.’

  ‘You’ll wait till hell freezes over then,’ Belle laughed. ‘I’m never going to love another man.’

  ‘I think that too, now,’ Mog said. ‘But that’s just because we’ve only been widowed a few months. I’m getting on, though; you on the other hand are young and beautiful. Jimmy wouldn’t have wanted you to spend the rest of your life alone.’

  ‘Mog’s not quite right about there being no young men here,’ Vera said. ‘My brothers will be back soon, and there’s another couple of lads due home too. But I can’t imagine you going for any of them, Belle. Look at me, I’m a good example of what happens to the flowers of Russell! I’m seen as an old maid already!’

  ‘Then maybe you two should clear off to Auckland,’ Mog said.

  Vera laughed. ‘I am so tempted to do that. Ma drives me mad. It was bad enough before I went to France, but much worse since I came home. I don’t want to work in the bakery for evermore.’

  She began singing a song, ‘How Ya Gonna Keep Them Down on the Farm, after They’ve Seen Paree?’

  Belle spluttered with laughter. ‘Did you just make that up?’

  ‘No, not me. Some of the Americans at the hospital used to sing it. They’d heard it in a music hall in New York before they left for France. I heard it played on a gramophone too, apparently it’s really popular in America. But that’s another thing you’ll find here, we’re very cut off from the rest of the world. Music, fashion, art, new books, we don’t get to hear about any of it.’

  ‘I don’t mind that,’ Mog said.

  Vera sighed and looked shamefaced. ‘I feel bad that I didn’t warn you about any of that, but you see, I didn’t notice it myself until I got back, and by then you were on your way.’

  Mog put an arm round each of the girls and drew them to her. ‘Well, we’re here now, and I like it. But if it’s too dull for you two after seeing Paree, then you must find a place you like better.’

  ‘I’m not running off without giving it a good crack of the whip,’ Belle said firmly. ‘I like it here too, and before we start considering alternatives, let’s look objectively at what we could do here.’

  They spent about an hour looking round the house and Mog made a list of things which needed doing to it. ‘I’m going to mull it over for a few days,’ she said as she locked up before leaving. ‘I’ll need to find out what it’s worth and how much all the repairs will cost before I decide.’

  April slipped into May with them barely noticing how quickly the time was passing. Mog enjoyed helping Don in the bakery, and she’d shared some of her cake recipes with him and was delighted to find the finished products not only sold quickly but people came back for more. With Vera’s help, she had got prices for all the work that needed to be done on the old Phillips place, and once she had it all settled in her head, offered Mr Henderson a hundred pounds for the property. She expected him to be affronted at such a low price, but he accepted it cheerfully and threw in all the legal costs for the purchase too.

  Belle took up painting in water-colours, and though it was often a little chilly sitting for long periods down at the beach, she liked painting the sea and the boats so much that she hardly noticed it. Often when she was painting down on the shore she realized that there had never been a time in her life when she’d felt so relaxed an
d peaceful. Even during the period before Garth and Mog got married, when she and Mog had lived in a room in Blackheath while Garth arranged to buy the Railway, there had always been tension. Back then it was because they were both striving to become ladies, so they would be accepted in the village. Then Belle got her shop and had the anxiety of that. She had been very happy, marrying Jimmy, making hats, seeing her business grow, but there had never been long, lazy periods of doing nothing like there was here.

  The war had taken a great deal out of everyone, whatever their occupation or personal circumstances, with fear of losing loved ones, grief when they did, rationing, bombing and all the other hardships, including the horror of the flu that came at the end. But all that was over now; Belle had read in a newspaper that it was said to be ‘the war to end all wars’. She hoped so. She also felt that she and Mog had finally found a place where they could be themselves, where they didn’t have to pretend to be ladies, or be afraid to voice their opinions. Here they could put aside the sorrow and the hurts of the past for ever.

  Spud, Tony and two other young Russell men finally arrived home at the end of May, and the whole town joined in the celebrations.

  Vera’s younger brothers were very like her in nature, both outgoing, warm and friendly, with a great sense of humour. They were both much taller than Vera, with brown hair, but had the same duck egg-blue eyes. Everyone remarked that they had left Russell as mere boys and come back as men.

  Peggy was horrified to find that what Spud had called mere scratches on his right arm and leg were in fact very ugly scars, but Spud laughed them off and pointed out that he’d been lucky he hadn’t got gangrene as he’d fallen into deep mud and lain there for hours before he was taken to a medical post.

  Mog and Belle had intended to wait to move into their house until the new stove they’d ordered from Auckland had arrived and been installed, but the boys’ return changed their minds. It had become very crowded in Peggy and Don’s house, and it seemed wrong to expect Spud and Tony to have to sleep on the living-room floor, however much they claimed they didn’t mind.

  But as the damaged clapboarding on their house had already been replaced and the roof mended, it was at least weatherproof. Clearing the house had been a hard, dirty job; they burned the rubbish and put the furniture and other objects they didn’t want outside for anyone to help themselves. To their delight most of it vanished within a day. But they kept the sturdy Kauriwood kitchen table as once scrubbed of years of grime it looked good, along with the iron bedstead, which Belle and Vera rubbed down and painted white. They kept a couple of kitchen chairs too, a chest of drawers and the work bench. Mog sent a telegram to Noah asking him to arrange for her stored furniture to be shipped out as soon as possible.

  The inside walls of the house were matchboard covered in scrim. They had been told plastering wasn’t practical in wooden houses, and anyway, scrim supported wallpaper much better. Downstairs there were holes in the matchboarding, but as the big upstairs room had remained intact, they got a man in to hang the only wallpaper available in the general store. It was rather dull, pale blue with a swirly design in cream, but once up it looked surprisingly pretty. With linoleum down which they’d ordered from a store in Auckland along with a new mattress, which would come on the Clansman, they planned to live in that room while the rest of the work went on in the house.

  Spud and Tony intended to get work on the fishing boats or at the cannery, but for the time being they were only too pleased to get paid work helping the carpenter on Mog’s house, building the veranda, making cupboards and shelves in the kitchen and renewing the damaged matchboard and scrim.

  ‘Well, here we are in our own house at last,’ Mog said on the night of 2 June as they prepared to get into the iron bed they had to share.

  In the light of the oil lamp the room looked very attractive, with dainty cream blinds made by Mog in the windows at either end, a couple of rag rugs given to them as presents by women in the town on the linoleum floor, and the bed made up with linen, blankets and an eiderdown they’d brought from England in their trunk.

  ‘I love Peggy, but it will be wonderful not to be woken by her shouting to Don in the morning,’ Belle said as she slipped on her nightdress. ‘And the stove will be arriving this week too. No more going there for dinner.’

  ‘Shame on you,’ Mog reproved her. ‘Peggy and Don are kind, lovely people. Sometimes you can be very ungracious.’

  Belle grinned. She knew Mog felt exactly the same as she did, in fact she’d had a far harder time because she missed being able to cook meals, and she’d been the one who listened to Peggy wittering on about nothing, day in, day out. ‘Well, I’m going to make her a lovely Sunday hat, to make up for my ungraciousness,’ she said.

  ‘Changing the subject,’ Mog did the pursed-lip thing she always did when she was disapproving, ‘shall we take the Clansman to Auckland soon to pick out some furniture? Peggy said it’s not wise to choose a couch or armchairs from a catalogue as they might turn out to be as hard as rock.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Belle thought for a moment. ‘I think we should stay until the house is nearly finished and see what else we need. There’ll be curtain material, and I need some hat-making stuff too. We’ll be there for a week, so it’s best to get everything we’re likely to need all at once.’

  They got into bed and Belle turned out the oil lamp. ‘It’s good not to hear Don snoring,’ she said into the darkness. ‘He snored so loudly that the whole house reverberated with it.’

  Mog put a hand on Belle’s arm. ‘You, my dear, are becoming crabby. You need a sweetheart.’

  Belle giggled. ‘Are you going to order me one from a catalogue?’

  ‘Write down your requirements and I’ll check if they have a suitable one in stock,’ Mog responded, with laughter in her voice. ‘So go to sleep now and dream about him.’

  Belle lay awake for a long time after Mog had fallen asleep, mentally compiling a list as suggested. She thought she would write it down in the morning to make Mog laugh.

  Tall, slim build, fair hair, blue eyes, but as she reeled physical characteristics off to herself she realized she was describing Etienne. Just thinking about that one night they’d spent together made her feel such an intense longing that tears came into her eyes. She knew she wasn’t the kind of woman to live a chaste life, she wanted to be held, to be kissed, and enjoy the bliss of lovemaking. Mog was right; she was growing crabby, and this was the reason.

  Vera had told her that in the summer lots of men came here to fish, but the chances were they’d be married. Spud was sweet on Belle, she had seen the way he looked at her, but he was too innocent for her, even if she could get over the idea of a man called something as daft as ‘Spud’. She’d overheard his brother Tony talking to him about a French whore he’d been with. He was clearly captivated by the experience, yet the derogatory way he’d spoken about the girl had made Belle wince.

  She had no difficulty in maintaining the correct demeanour for a widow in a social setting, but if she should ever find a man she could love, she knew she wouldn’t be able to hide her past from him. Jimmy had been a rarity in that he’d accepted it, but even he had fallen back on scorning her after he was wounded.

  Belle thought the possibility of meeting a man who was as worldly and non-judgmental as Etienne, and who like him was also kind, fun and a wonderful lover, was as unlikely as waking up tomorrow morning and finding an elephant standing outside the house. So perhaps she ought to accept that she’d already had her fair share of passion, and resign herself to becoming an old maid?

  Chapter Thirty

  The work progressed on the house far quicker once Belle and Mog were living there and keeping the men at it. The stove arrived and was duly installed by a specialist who lived across the bay in Paihia. He not only put in a tank to store heated water from it, but ran a pipe from the outside water supply to a new sink in the kitchen, and another one for waste water to the cesspit outside. He said he would gladly come bac
k again when they’d extended the house and fit a bathroom.

  The veranda was built from Kauri wood, with the rails and balustrade painted white. Cupboards and a dresser had been built in the kitchen and the chimney had been swept so they could light a fire when it was cold. But they were still waiting for the wallpapers they’d ordered from Auckland for the downstairs rooms, and Mog’s furniture from England.

  It was the promised arrival of the wallpaper that made Belle walk down to the jetty when the Clansman was due in. Most people met the ship every week, not necessarily because they were expecting ordered goods, or to meet someone who was coming in on it, but just because the ship was a link with the outside world.

  It was raining heavily that afternoon, however, and even Peggy, who rarely missed a week, hadn’t turned out. Belle was wearing a long black waterproof coat she’d bought from the general store, a sou’wester hat and a pair of gumboots because the unmade up roads had turned to a quagmire.

  She liked the bay in any weather, and as she stood on the jetty and looked out over the choppy water which was as leaden as the sky above, she thought it had a dramatic beauty which was just as lovely in its own way as it was in sunshine. The rain was acting like a semi-diaphanous curtain, giving only a very hazy view beyond a few hundred yards, and she could hear the engines of the Clansman approaching but she couldn’t see it yet.

  It was likely that other people who had goods on the ship were listening for that sound. They were probably biding their time until the ship moored before they came down to collect their parcels. They might not even bother because of the rain; after all, the goods would be stored in the shipping office and could be picked up later when it stopped raining, or even tomorrow. Mog had said to leave theirs, adding that the wallpaper would be heavy and it certainly wasn’t needed right away.

  But for some reason Belle had felt compelled to come down.

  The Clansman’s engines were growing louder. Belle peered towards the sound and thought she could just make out a dark shape behind the curtain of rain. Then suddenly there it was, the funnel belching out smoke, and she could even see the crew members on the decks preparing for mooring.