by June Francis
‘It must have been really sad for yer, losing yer little girl.’ Maggie wiped crumbs off the counter. ‘Alf would have liked kids.’ She paused. ‘Have yer given any more thought to what I said about the Other Side? I mean, yer husband and yer little girl, they’ve passed over, haven’t they? Yer could get in touch with them.’
Flora stared at her, feeling uncomfortable. She did not want any prying into her affairs. What if there was something in it and they found out about Tom being a deserter? There was part of her that still found that truth difficult to come to terms with. ‘I don’t really believe in that sort of thing, Maggie,’ she said gently. ‘I think it’s all just wishful thinking.’
Maggie stilled, her toffee-coloured eyes round. ‘You can’t really believe that, Flo. Why the messages that ’ave been passed on to me! A real comfort, they’ve been. That’s why I can stay so cheerful.’
Flora did not know whether to take her seriously or to smile. ‘What kind of messages?’ she asked with a certain reluctance.
Maggie’s mouth split into a smile. ‘Nice messages. Since Alf went on the other side he’s a much better person. Sometimes he used to get real frisky, like after a couple of ports on a New Year’s Eve.’ Her fingers fidgeted with the keys of the till. ‘But of course on the other side there’s none of that.’
‘That?’ Flora stared at her with a strange kind of fascination.
‘You know,’ articulated Maggie carefully, glancing furtively at the bakeroom door. ‘Sex.’ Her finger pressed a key accidentally and the till tray shot out.
‘Oh, sex!’ Flora was pretty certain that Maggie knew little about it – so she was curious.
‘You don’t need it in Heaven,’ informed the older woman. ‘Men like it down here, but for us women it only means having babies to populate the earth. But in Heaven they’ll have enough people. I mean all the children that have died like your little girl will be in Heaven – they won’t need any more.’
Flora could not take her eyes off Maggie’s face. She could see that the woman was perfectly serious and felt a sudden affection for her. She smiled. ‘I’ve never looked at birth, death and sex just like that. Thanks.’
Maggie smiled back. ‘I worked it all out from things I’ve seen an’ heard. I mean, it makes sense, doesn’t it? It’s love that’s important, isn’t it, an’ caring? If yer’re interested in getting in touch, Flo,’ she said eagerly, ‘I could take yer along to a gatherin’.’
Flora hesitated, not wanting to hurt her feelings. ‘I might find it too painful, Maggie. And 1have so little time to spare,’ she said softly.
Maggie tried to hide her disappointment and persisted. ‘I could try for you.’
Flora did not know what to say, not wanting to hurt her feelings. The whole idea of getting in touch with the dead gave her the creeps. But there was Rosie – she yearned after her child still. ‘Please yourself,’ she said. Then picking up the tray of bread she took it outside to the delivery van.
When she came back Maggie was serving a customer and there was another waiting. She was relieved that their conversation could not be continued and hoped that Maggie would forget all about getting in touch with the Other Side.
‘I got news for yer, Flo.’ Maggie’s face was brimming with excitement as she pulled on her overall a couple of mornings later.
‘Oh, aye!’ Flora’s nerves gave a peculiar kind of jump as she set a plate of buns in the window.
‘Yer’ll be ’alf pleased with wha’ I’ve gotta tell yer.’
‘Will I?’ She turned and faced Maggie, unexpectedly apprehensive. ‘I don’t know if I want to hear. I mean, I don’t really believe in all this.’
The older woman smirked. ‘Yer will now. Your Rosie is perfectly happy. In a garden picking flowers.’
‘Is she?’ said Flora wistfully, her hands trembling as she picked up another plate. ‘I wonder what she’s going to do with them.’
‘Wha’?’ Maggie stared at her as if she had gone mad.
‘The flowers. What would she do with flowers? What kind of flowers were they?’
‘Roses, I suppose.’ Maggie looked bewildered. ‘What does it matter? Yer know I’ve never ’eard anybody ask a question like tha’ before. I don’t suppose it’s important really. The important thing is that she’s sorry for what she did.’
‘She’s sorry!’ Flora stared at her unbelievingly, barely noticing that Mr Brown had come into the shop. She cleared her throat. ‘Anything else?’
Maggie pulled her face. ‘We couldn’t get yer husband. Pity! But there it is. Perraps if yer came with me?’
Flora was relieved but hoped it did not show – but how to put Maggie off? ‘I don’t know,’ she said softly. ‘Let me think about it.’
‘Think on your own time, Mrs Cooke, and let’s see you moving.’ Mr Brown’s voice caused them both to jump. Maggie hurried away into the back and Flora nearly dropped the plate of cakes. She glanced at him involuntarily and he stared back at her, unsmiling. ‘You should have more sense than to take notice of Maggie. She’s a bit screwy. She even wanted me to get in touch with Mam. Daft, I call it.’
‘Yes, I suppose so,’ murmured Flora. ‘But if it helps her …’
‘Helps her!’ he sneered, leaning against the counter. ‘You must be as daft as she is. She pays that man and he tells her just what she wants to hear.’
‘Pays him? She said nothing to me about paying him.’ Her voice was low. She moved to put the cakes in the window.
‘She wouldn’t, would she? Not yet.’ He gave a bark of laughter. ‘Surely you aren’t believing her! I can understand an old crow like her allowing herself to be deceived but you’re only young. You could get another man.’ He folded his arms and his eyes gleamed. ‘So what’s the point of Maggie getting her fella to call up the spooks? They won’t bring him back. What you need, Mrs Cooke, is another man to help you forget.’ His voice was silky. ‘If you’re in need I’m on call anytime – day or night.’
For a second Flora thought she had not heard him aright, then as she continued to stare at him, there was something in his expression that caused an angry blush to colour her face. ‘No, thank you,’ she said as calmly as she could before turning and going after Maggie into the back room.
She leaned against a table a moment, feeling like the day was already hours old. Was it because she was a widow that men thought that she was willing for a romp in the hay any old time? Or did she look like that kind of woman? Even Little Paddy had become a mite too familiar, putting his arm round her and calling her ‘Poor girlie’. Squeezing her arm as well as patting her bottom. All this since Rosie had died. It was embarrassing and irritating, especially since Carmel had told her that she was having another baby. Well, if that short Irishman thought that she was ready for a bit of slap and tickle because his wife was expecting, he was in for a rude awakening one day. She smiled wryly. But perhaps she was getting things all out of proportion and taking it all too seriously.
Even so when it came to going home time Flora was out of the door quicker than Maggie for once and striding out along the road. Although why she should think that Mr Brown should follow her home when he had not taken any notice of her for the rest of the day was stupid. Besides, what had the man really said? For now she would forget him and look forward to seeing the children and putting her feet up once she had done the tea and tidied round.
Flora picked up Vivien at Mrs Murphy’s and handed over a loaf, which she herself had paid for. It was the unasked for payment that she gave for Carmel’s keeping an eye on the children. She was told that George had gone to the park to play football, and was relieved that at least she knew where he was and that he wasn’t doing anything worse. She took Vivien’s hand and they idled down the street, the girl telling her about her day in school.
Pushing the front door open, they walked up the lobby. Then Flora sniffed – Californian Poppy! With an overwhelming sense of shock she recognised the scent and for a moment she could not move. Then her hand went to the kitchen door,
only to have it opened from the other side before she could turn the handle.
‘At last!’ exclaimed her sister, a cigarette dangling from her scarlet mouth. ‘I thought you were never coming home. This is a fine welcome for the prodigal. Where’s the fatted calf?’ She took the cigarette from between her lips and smiled. ‘Well, Flo, try and look pleased to see me!’
Chapter Thirteen
Uncertain what exactly she was feeling, Flora said nothing for a moment, nor did Vivien, and neither of them made a move towards Hilda. Then Flora freed a long breath. ‘So you’ve decided to come and see us at last. It would have been a good idea to let me know instead of just walking in.’
Hilda pulled a face. ‘I was up this way so I thought I’d call in. But if I’m not welcome then I can turn round and go back out again.’
‘You could,’ said Flora calmly, shrugging off her coat. ‘What have you come for after all this time? To see your daughter, I hope.’
A frown creased Hilda’s forehead. ‘Partly. But I suppose you won’t believe that. Just as you won’t believe that I was worried about you when I heard about Rosie. I know the way you feel about your kids.’
‘It’s over a year ago! How did you find out?’ Flora put a match to the fire, before sitting down and kicking off her shoes.
‘Doris. She saw it in the Echo when it happened, but I only learnt about it the other day when I came back to Liverpool.’
‘So you immediately came round to see me. How nice!’
Hilda walked over to her. ‘I do have feelings, Flo! I was sorry to hear about the kid. How have you been?’
Flora closed her eyes and rested her head wearily against the back of the chair. Seeing her sister had brought to mind their last meeting and she was really in no mood for emotional turmoil. ‘How do you think I’ve been?’
Her sister took a deep drag at her cigarette. ‘Lousy, I suppose.’
A harsh laugh escaped Flora. ‘Hardly describes my feelings. But it’s nice to have you caring about me for once.’
‘There’s no need for sarcasm.’
Flora opened her eyes briefly. ‘I wasn’t being sarcastic. But knowing you – why have you come, Hilda? There’s always something other than family feeling behind your visits.’
Hilda fiddled with her cigarette, not looking directly at her. ‘I met Mike in town a few days ago.’
Flora’s heart seemed to jerk and her eyelashes flew open. ‘You can’t have! He went back to America!’
‘Well, he’s at Burtonwood base again. Something to do with the Russians blockading Berlin.’
‘How did he look?’ Flora tried to calm the unexpected surge of feeling inside her. Hilda’s eyes narrowed as she stared down at her painted fingernails through a haze of smoke.
‘Just the same. You know Mike. Perhaps he’s a little thinner.’ She shrugged. ‘Anyway, me and him sorted out our differences and we had a night out on the town.’
Flora straightened up, her fingers trembling on the arm of the chair. She felt slightly sick. ‘Why bother to come and tell me?’
Hilda took another drag on her cigarette. ‘It’s funny, but I thought it might annoy you – me and Mike. I was almost sure you and him had something real going once.’ She laughed mirthlessly. ‘But he did tell me that it was all over.’
No way could Flora allow her sister to see how much the words hurt. ‘Of course it’s over. Mike was fun,’ she said lightly. ‘But I never kidded myself that it could work. I’m not the dreamer you always accused me of being.’
‘No?’ said Hilda, scrutinising her carefully. ‘Perhaps that’s your trouble, Flo. You’ve let life shake the stardust from your eyes.’
‘How poetic,’ said Flora with a false brightness. ‘But you helped by loading me with your problems.’
‘I’m about to help you out with one.’ Hilda gazed down at the glowing tip of her cigarette, then lifting her eyes she stared at her daughter. ‘She’s grown. She’s looking well.’ She held out a hand. ‘Come over here, kid.’ Vivien returned her regard and moved slowly towards her, but instead of taking the hand or stopping in front of her, she brushed past and sat on the rug at Flora’s feet. For a moment Hilda looked disconcerted and then she laughed. ‘That’s put me in my place! Okay, Viv, I admit I’m not much of a mother. But perhaps Mike’s idea of me taking the role of being your mam more seriously isn’t a bad one.’
‘Mike said that?’ said Flora. It should not really have surprised her because it was what he had said many times.
‘Yes.’
‘It would mean you staying in Liverpool,’ she said in a mocking voice that concealed the hurt deep inside. ‘After all you said about this dirty old city, dear sister, could you really stick living here?’
Hilda scanned her sister’s face and smiled sweetly. ‘I’m prepared to give it another go if it means catching Mike.’ Her eyes gleamed as she flicked ash into the blazing fire. ‘I always did have a soft spot for him. I know he’s not devastatingly handsome – but he’s got something, and it’s just possible that it could be love that I feel for him.’
‘It’s never shown before,’ said Flora, determinedly cheerful. ‘Last time we spoke of him, you were going to murder him.’
‘And you,’ said Hilda pensively, blowing out smoke and watching it curl in the air.
There was a silence and Flora moved her shoulders, wanting to believe that by doing so it would ease the ache in her chest. Why couldn’t Mike and Hilda have stayed out of her life?
‘Could this sudden feeling of love for Mike, have anything to do with you still wanting to go to America?’ she drawled. ‘Mike’s no fool.’
‘All men are fools at times,’ murmured Hilda. ‘And of course I still want to go to Yankee land.’
‘With or without Viv? Have you thought of her at all in the last few years?’ she asked under her breath so that the girl could not hear. ‘What’s your excuse for not sending anything or getting in touch? She was terribly upset when you walked out.’
Hilda stubbed out her cigarette and smiled. ‘Don’t let’s start an argument by bringing up old quarrels. So I left Viv with you and didn’t get in touch! In the circumstances I reckon I had every reason for not speaking to you ever again. But – I’m not one to bear grudges, little sister, even though what you did made me really mad.’
‘What you said about Tom made me more than mad.’ blurted out Flora. ‘It was cruel! You and Stephen both seem to want to get your knife into Tom, and it’s not right. A dead man can’t answer back, as you said.’
Hilda bit her bottom lip for a second, then said. ‘Stephen who?’
‘Never you mind,’ said Flora, frowning and folding her arms. ‘It’s what you said that really bothered me.’
Hilda stared at her, her expression thoughtful. ‘You’re a dark one. Tell me – Stephen who?’
Flora smiled grimly. ‘Mind your own business.’
‘It is my business.’ Her brow knitted. ‘You’re my sister and if there’s a man in your life I want to know about it. The way you go on about Tom makes me laugh. First it’s Mike and now it’s a Stephen. You really get around, sister.’
‘You’re talking rubbish.’ Flora cleared her throat. ‘So I’m getting over Tom now – that’s natural. It doesn’t mean I’ll ever forget him – or that I found it easy to take your nasty insinuations.’
Hilda shrugged. ‘Truth, Flo. Now how about me taking Viv off your hands one day?’
‘I suppose you think you’ll fool Mike into believing that you’ve turned over a new leaf,’ said Flora acidly. ‘Viv’s not a toy to be used in your games.’
‘She’s my daughter.’ Hilda’s smile was predatory. ‘And I could take her from you.’ Flora shot a glance at Vivien, who looked at her and shifted closer. Hilda laughed. ‘There’s no need for you both to worry yet. I haven’t gone all maternal overnight. Just name one day a week for now I can see her.’
‘There’s times when I hate you,’ said Flora quietly. ‘But I accept that you have a
right to see Viv. I just wish you realised what you’re missing, not being a proper mother to her.’
Hilda grimaced. ‘Face facts, Flo. Sentiment doesn’t sway me. Name your day.’
Flora did not hesitate. ‘Saturday. I have another job and I have to work then. At the moment Father looks after the kids. It’s not easy for him – he’s getting old and l think he finds all day too much.’
‘Saturday!’ Hilda frowned. ‘I was looking forward to dancing on Saturday.’
‘Forget I mentioned it.’ Flora’s voice was bland. ‘You’ll never fool Mike into believing that you take your responsibilities seriously. Although I wasn’t asking you to give up your dancing.’
Hilda’s mouth twitched. ‘That’s a good job – because I wouldn’t! So you want me to look after her during the day?’
Flora nodded and Hilda pursed her lips. ‘Why don’t you give her and George the money to go to the kids’ matinée?’
Flora’s eyebrows rose. ‘Why don’t you? You owe Viv.’
‘I’ll see.’ Hilda threw the butt of her cigarette into the fire. ‘What is your new job, by the way?’
‘I work in a bakery.’
‘Where is it?’ Hilda yawned and stood up.
‘Round the corner from Father’s,’ she said shortly. ‘Are you going now?’
Hilda nodded. ‘I know you can’t wait to get rid of me.’ She reached for a coat. ‘I’ll see you on Saturday then.’
‘I doubt it,’ said Flora. ‘I’ll be at work. But George will wait in till you come.’
‘All right.’ She stared at Flora. ‘We should be prepared to forget and forgive each other everything, Flo,’ she said dreamily. ‘Isn’t that what the Good Book says? But forgetting and forgiving doesn’t come easy, does it?’ She pulled on her gloves and swayed out of the room.
Flora and Vivien heard the door slam behind her. The girl’s sharp eyes met her aunt’s. ‘I’m glad she didn’t stay long.’ She struggled to her feet, the cat in her arms. ‘Do I have to go out with her?’
‘She’s your mother,’ said Flora absently, wondering which one of them her sister’s parting shot was intended for. Herself or Hilda? Or both perhaps?