War Widow

by June Francis

  The rabbit stew, rich with carrots, onions and rice, flavoured with thyme and thickened with seasoned flour, was a gift to the taste buds. They washed it down with the ginger beer. Her father wasn’t pleased when Vivien dropped the information that Mike had bought the beer – but it didn’t prevent him from drinking it, nor from scoffing Mike’s chocolates.

  George disappeared with his football outside, and Flora was overwhelmed by restlessness as she cleared the table and washed the dishes. Vivien dried them, before setting up her new snakes and ladders game in the parlour. Wildly exciting time, thought Flora sardonically, sliding her counter down a snake.

  Around teatime there was a hammering at the door and Flora hurried to open it, hoping Mike had managed to get away, but it was only a rosy-cheeked Hilda accompanied by Kevin Brown.

  ‘Merry Christmas!’ Hilda aimed a kiss at her sister’s cheek. It landed on her ear. ‘I bring you a gift.’ She flourished a bottle of sherry. ‘I bet you haven’t got any drink in the house.’

  ‘You guess right,’ lied Flora, attempting to take the sherry only to have her sister snatch it back as she swayed on high wedged heels. ‘In a minute, Flo. Say Happy Christmas to my fiancé, but don’t overwhelm him with the Christmas spirit. He’s mine, remember?’

  Flora gave Kevin a quick look as she hauled her sister into the lobby. He stared back at her, with his beautiful dark eyes slightly out of focus. She had given him only the briefest of congratulations a few days ago. She nodded to him, releasing her hold on her sister’s arm. Hilda swayed up the lobby.

  ‘Come on in, Mr Brown,’ said Flora with assumed friendliness. ‘My father’s inside so there’s likely to be high jinks when he and Hilda meet.’

  He stepped into the lobby, closing the door behind him, and caught her arm as she would have led the way. ‘No seasonal kiss, Flo? We’re going to be related now.’ His fingers dug into her flesh, hurting, and she could smell rum on his breath. She offered him her cheek but he grabbed her chin and kissed her on the mouth with such force that he pressed her lower lip into her teeth and drew blood. It hurt, and unable to pull free, she ground her heel into his foot just above the edge of his brown polished shoe. She felt the shock of his recoil, and he released her abruptly. ‘It’s going to be like that, is it?’ he said, breathing heavily as he brought his foot up and rubbed it. ‘You’re not very friendly.’

  ‘That kiss wasn’t either,’ she responded in a flash.

  She left him and went into the kitchen where the tea table was set, to be brought up short by the sight of Hilda wrestling with the sherry bottle and her father. ‘Let go, you soft old bugger,’ she was saying. ‘I want to pour you a drink. The prodigal has returned. So let’s have a party!’

  ‘There’ll be no party, yer daft bitch,’ he grunted, his chest rising and falling as he managed to wrench the bottle from her, only to fall backwards into his chair.

  Hilda shook her head at him. ‘You meany, Father. Give it to Flo. It’s for her and we’ll all drink a toast. There’s going to be a wedding, a lovely, lovely wedding,’ she chanted.

  Her father started at her. ‘A daughter of mine drunk! You oughter be ashamed.’

  ‘Why? Men get drunk and they couldn’t care less!’ she exclaimed defiantly, clutching at the table. ‘Don’t be an ol’ misery guts.’ She caught sight of her sister. ‘Flo! Get the jars out.’

  ‘Sit down before you fall down,’ said Flora, unable to prevent a laugh. Never had she imagined the meeting between the two of them would be like this. ‘I’ll get the glasses and we’ll drink to good health and your coming marriage.’

  ‘You shouldn’t encourage her,’ said her father, reluctantly handing her the bottle. ‘Don’t be giving me any of that. I wouldn’t wash me insides out with it. A nice drop of Navy Rum is what I like.’ His eyes almost crossed as he gazed at her fiercely.

  ‘I’ve got some rum,’ said Kevin from the doorway.

  The old man switched his attention to him. ‘And who are you? Come in and bring your rum, or go out and shut the door.’

  Kevin advanced further into the room, pulled by Hilda who had hurried over to him. ‘Father, dear Father,’ she cried. ‘This is my one true love. Will you give me away? His father was a Black Sir Knight – one of your Lodge crowd – Orange as King Billy himself, so you should be pleased with me.’ She stood swaying in front of him, clinging to Kevin’s arm.

  The two men eyed each other carefully. Flora’s father spoke first. ‘A pretty boy, that’s what you are. But I’ll maybe let you have my daughter’s hand, seeing as how you’re on the right side. Now pour me some of that rum and I’ll drink yer health.’

  Kevin moved swiftly to comply with the old man’s request, filling the small glass that Flora handed to him. A toast was drunk, then in quick succession her father downed another two tots of rum.

  A quarter of an hour later when Flora handed her father a salmon sandwich, he whispered almost with an air of triumph: ‘I’m glad that one of me daughters tries to please her old father by bringing the right kind of man home. You take a lesson from your sister now, girl, and be shut of that Yank altogether.’

  Flora said nothing. What was the use? Nothing would change her father’s mind about Mike. She picked up her sherry glass and downed it in one go as she thought of him and his generosity, of his looks and that special something he had for her. She thought of Rosie, and would have given a lot to have had Christmas Day different. To have said yes to Mike, she thought defiantly, staring at her father. Perhaps she would next time she saw him.

  On Boxing Day Flora and Vivien went for a walk in the park. George was out with several mates playing football. They were on their way home when they encountered the whole Murphy family excepting Little Paddy. The girls ran on ahead of them but Flora lingered, setting her pace to that of the heavily pregnant Carmel. They exchanged pleasantries, asking after the other’s Christmas before discussing Carmel’s pregnancy.

  ‘I’ve told him it’s the last I’ll be givin’ him,’ said the Irishwoman, her broad features determined. ‘Even if it’s another girl – that’s it!’ Her lips compressed in a straight line. ‘I’ve told Father O’Reilly too. It’s all right for him to go on about the blessings of children but he doesn’t have to have the “little innocents”. I nearly bled to death last time.’ There was a silence and Carmel looked at Flora as if waiting for her to say something, but she kept her mouth shut. Some people had a habit of instantly taking the other viewpoint if you agreed with them. ‘And how are things with you, Flo? How’s yer Yank? Still seeing him?’

  ‘Not that much,’ she said brightly. ‘They’re busy at the base with their aeroplanes.’

  ‘Mike’s a fine Catholic lad. Pleasantly spoken and has a lovely way with him.’ She did not quite meet Flora’s gaze. ‘Mrs Jones said she thought she saw him coming out of your house the other morning.’

  ‘And what morning would that be?’ asked Flora, frowning as if in deep thought. ‘Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday or Friday?’ Her voice tightened and she stopped abruptly. ‘I’m certain she has her spyglass out every day just in case she misses anything to spread around.’

  ‘Now Flo, girl! Don‘t be taking things the wrong way.’ Carmel eyed her uneasily. ‘I wouldn’t be doing me duty as a good neighbour if I didn’t tell you that you’re getting yerself talked about.’

  Flora tapped her foot on the pavement. ‘Do you think I don’t know that? Let them talk. I don’t care.’

  ‘You’re vexed,’ said Carmel, sighing heavily. ‘I don’t blame yer, girl. But think – what about George? He’s old enough to be taking notice. And though most people wouldn’t dream of saying anything directly to him, he’s bound to hear the gossip sooner or later.’

  Flora’s irritation and discomfort simmered over. ‘It’s not what you all think!’ she said in a hard voice. ‘He stayed the night in Vivien’s room due to the fog. He wants to marry me but I’ve said no so far.’ She paused then added wickedly. ‘Only because he’s a nice Ca
tholic boy and I don’t want to be his ruin. Haven’t you all noticed I’m painted scarlet!’

  Carmel opened her mouth but Flora did not stay to hear what she said, walking on swiftly. Her emotions were in a tangle and she did not know what she was going to do. But Carmel’s words about George had hit home and she knew that a decision was being forced upon her. Next time Mike came could be the last.

  Chapter Nineteen

  ‘D’you think my hat looks all right?’ Flora gazed doubtfully at her reflection and pushed a lock of glossy copper hair beneath the green felt hat which had artificial white gardenias under its brim. She wore a matching green dress and jacket.

  ‘You look lovely’ said Vivien, smiling at her own image. ‘It’s a pity it’s not your wedding, Aunty Flo.’

  Flora said nothing. It was over two weeks since she had seen Mike and she had almost made up her mind what to say to him when he did come. She cast another frowning glance at the mirror before moving away and seizing a wire brush to bring some order to Vivien’s curls. ‘I wish this was going to be a quiet affair but I reckon your mam’s pulling out all the stops. There’ll be piles of people we don’t know.’

  ‘She said it’s her big day – that she’s waited for it for a long time,’ said Vivien seriously.

  ‘I hope it goes well and she gets all she wants,’ muttered Flora, adjusting the shoulders of the flower-sprigged pink frock that Vivien was wearing.

  ‘She says that Uncle Kev’s her Prince Charming.’

  Flora raised her eyes heavenwards but kept her peace. ‘Where’s George? It’s time we were going.’ She whirled round, hoping he had not left the house and was mucking up the new jacket and trousers that she’d put herself in debt for. ‘George!’ she yelled.

  ‘Here, Mam.’ He came in from the back kitchen, his cheek bulging, and looking reasonably tidy for once. His tawny hair was slicked down with Brylcreem.

  ‘Will you leave that jam pot alone,’ she said severely. ‘Lick your left cheek and brush the crumbs from your mouth.’

  He hastily complied with her request. ‘I hope there’s some decent grub at this do.’

  ‘There’ll be plenty of cake, meat pies and sausage rolls. We were hard at it all yesterday.’ A smile lit her face. ‘Are you ready?’

  He nodded. ‘D’you think Grandad’ll get to the right house on time?’

  ‘If your Aunty Hilda’s wants him there, she’ll see to it. And I laid out all his clothes for him last night.’

  ‘Clean socks and his best bowler?’ He grinned.

  ‘Yes. I hid his old cap.’

  She straightened George’s tie and found her handbag. ‘Let’s be having you then,’ she said, pushing the door wide and ushering them out into the wintry sunshine.

  ‘Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony …’

  Flora’s gaze shifted from the face of the Vicar to Hilda’s as the words of the marriage service started majestically. She looked like a princess out of a story and Kevin, the handsome hero. She watched the Vicar’s lips moving, telling them what marriage was all about: for the procreation of children, to avoid fornication. The nerves in her stomach tightened. Fornication! What a strange sounding word for what she and Mike had been doing for months. How far she had fallen from her high standards of years ago. God forgive her!

  Someone cleared a throat and Flora recognised the sound as belonging to Stephen. Her sister had not told her that he was going to be there. Why couldn’t she have fancied Stephen more than Mike? It would have made life much simpler. Should she tell him that Viv could be Jimmy’s daughter? Her mind was still undecided. Stephen might not want to believe it was true. The old jealousy of Jimmy could rear its ugly head just as it had with Tom so often in the past. Best to keep quiet for now.

  The Vicar directed his attention to the bride and groom and Flora tried to relax. ‘I require and charge you both, as ye will answer at the dreadful day of judgment when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, that if either of you know any impediment, why ye may not be lawfully joined together in Matrimony, ye do now confess it. For be ye well assured that so many as are coupled together otherwise than God’s word doth allow are not joined together by God, neither is their Matrimony lawful.’

  Lawfully joined together in matrimony … She and Mike had deliberately sinned. They hadn’t just fallen into it but gone into it with eyes, and legs, open! She groaned inwardly. How could she make a joke of such a serious matter? It was all wrong. They really would have to stop it. Having come to that decision she gave her attention to the service again.

  ‘Kevin William, wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife?’

  ‘I will.’ He hurried over the response.

  ‘Hilda Anne, wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband … and forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?’

  ‘I will.’ Her sister’s voice was loud and clear.

  ‘Who gives this woman?’ Jack Preston limped forward slowly, and Flora smiled. His bowler was not sitting straight but set at a jaunty angle. Was that due to too much rum or her sister’s hand? Flora could remember a younger Hilda placing another bowler on her head and doing a Charlie Chaplin impression. Was her sister ready for marriage? She was still pondering that question as the organ music swelled and the bride and groom processed up the aisle.

  ‘It was a luverly wedding.’ Maggie beamed at Flora as they stood in the crowded room above the bakery sipping port and lemon. ‘I’m awful glad that I was invited.’

  ‘I’m glad you came.’ Her eyes were warm. ‘There’s not many people I know here.’

  ‘I wasn’t sure whether to come.’ Maggie’s expression was suddenly downcast. ‘I’ve had a few funny turns lately. I think it’s me age, and Mr Brown does expect his pound of flesh. But I’ll say this for your sister – she knows just how to get round him. As sweet as pie she is to him when I’ve seen them together, but she’s saucy for all that.’ She took another sip of her drink. ‘She said that she might come to a gathering with me. That there’s a couple of men that she’d like to have a word with. Wants to know what they meant by leaving her in the lurch the way they did.’

  Flora stared at her. Was Hilda referring to Tom and Jimmy? It was possible. Her sister had a wicked sense of humour at times. ‘I think she might be teasing you, Maggie.’

  The older woman went pink and giggled. ‘I did think she might be. She’s a naughty one! That’s why I thought I’d mention it to you. Because you know what Mr Brown’s like over me getting in touch. He thinks it’s a big joke.’ Flora’s eyes strayed to where Kevin stood by the window that stretched almost floor to high, moulded ceiling. He was talking to Stephen and even as Flora looked at them, Stephen turned his head and stared at her. Their gaze held a moment before he gave his full attention to Kevin once more. She continued to talk to Maggie a little longer before moving in the direction of the fireplace where George was perched on the arm of his grandad’s chair. Before she reached them, Stephen came up to her, a smile on his craggy face.

  ‘Hello, Floss. You look smashing.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Her voice was light. ‘How have you been, Steve?’

  ‘Busy. That’s why you haven’t seen much of me,’ he said quickly. ‘Haven’t had much time for being sociable. There’s a lot involved in running a business.’

  ‘I’m sure there is. How’s the Old Man?’

  Stephen stroked his cheek with the edge of his glass, and seemed to be searching for words. ‘Not too good. He gave me quite a fright a couple of weeks ago. Had a bit of a heart attack.’

  ‘But he’s all right now?’ she asked, concerned.

  ‘Oh, he’s fine now!’ A muscle twitched in his cheek. ‘He’s not getting any younger, of course. So one has to expect these things.’

  ‘Poor ol’ man,’ said Flora softly, twisting her sherry glass between slender fingers. ‘I’ve a
lways been fond of him.’

  ‘He was fond of you, Floss,’ he said seriously. ‘I’m sure he’d appreciate a visit from you. That’s if you’ve got time, of course,’ he added hastily. ‘I know how busy you are, but I could always pick you up at your house.’

  She hesitated. ‘I’d like to – but I don’t know whether I’ll be able to or not. If I can fit it in, I’ll let you know.’

  They both fell silent and Flora was wondering how she could get away when Stephen said, ‘Have you given any more thought to coming to work for me?’

  ‘Not really,’ she said hurriedly. ‘Although I have been considering changing my job lately.’

  Stephen’s face brightened. ‘Then why don’t you come? I’d be real made up to have you, Floss, as you know.’

  ‘Maybe.’ She felt guilty for not feeling over-enthusiastic, but she had her reasons. Even so she was not keen at all on staying where she was. ‘Perhaps I could let you know next week? I can’t walk out on Mr Brown right now when he’s taking a couple of days off for his honeymoon.’

  ‘Of course not.’ He squeezed her arm. ‘I admire your loyalty, Floss. Can I get you another sherry?’

  ‘Thanks.’ She handed him her glass and watched him cross the room.

  Vivien tugged at her sleeve. ‘D’you think Uncle Steve would get me a lemonade if I asked him? I can’t get anybody to take any notice of me.’

  ‘I’m sure he would,’ said Flora, considering that it might not be such a bad thing if Stephen and the girl made friends. ‘You just go and ask him.’

  Vivien pushed her way through the throng. Several people patted her head and made a path for her. She responded like a flower to the sun, lifting her face and smiling. She was an attractive child, thought Flora. Perhaps if she did go and see the Old Man, it might not be a bad idea if she took Vivien with her.

  She sat down to await Stephen’s return only to have him come back accompanied by Hilda, her white satiny skirts hushing on the polished wooden floor. ‘Well, Flo! What do you think? Wasn’t it a lovely wedding?’