Walking Back to Happiness

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Walking Back to Happiness Page 12

by June Francis


  Theresa nodded.

  ‘OK, I’d rather you didn’t lose schooling anyway,’ said Lucia. ‘Can you hold the fort a little longer? I want to nip next door and see how Jerry and his dad are.’

  ‘Oh, Mrs Hudson knocked and said Mr Murphy would like to see you.’

  ‘Thanks for letting me know.’ Lucia wasted no time leaving the house and going next door.

  Mrs Hudson let her in. ‘You’re earlier than I thought you’d be.’

  ‘My boss let me off early and I’ve got the week off too,’ Lucia responded. ‘How is Jerry?’

  ‘Jerry’s not too bad but his dad is real poorly. He can hardly talk. His throat is that sore. The doctor left a prescription but I haven’t liked leaving the house in case they needed anything.’

  ‘I could go to the chemist, unless you’d like a breath of fresh air and a break from the house,’ said Lucia.

  Mrs Hudson’s face brightened. ‘I would. Thanks, Lucia. Your mum and dad would be proud of you.’ She showed Lucia into Tim’s apartment and called to him that Lucia was there.

  A few minutes later Jerry appeared dressed in pyjamas, and Lucia noticed that a few spots were showing on his face. ‘Dad told me to tell you to come through,’ he said. ‘Follow me. We’re sharing a bedroom at the moment with us both being ill.’

  She followed the boy into an adjoining room where there were two single beds, a bedside cabinet, a large wardrobe, an ottoman and a chest of drawers. Tim was propped up against a couple of pillows in the bed nearest the window. The curtains were drawn, but as the fabric was pale green and it was still daylight outside, the visibility in the room was good, so she could see clearly how flushed his face was.

  ‘I didn’t expect to see you so soon,’ said Tim hoarsely. ‘Thank you for coming.’

  ‘It’s no trouble.’ She sat on the side of the bed. ‘You sound rough.’

  ‘I feel terrible. It really hurts to talk and the light makes my eyes hurt.’

  ‘Then don’t talk,’ Lucia said. ‘I could get you a pencil and some paper if you tell me where I can find them and you can write down anything you want to say.’

  ‘My desk in the other room,’ he said, reaching for the glass on the bedside cabinet.

  She left the room and was back in no time with a pencil and note pad.

  ‘I met your Marty while in town, so I told him it was likely that Jerry had caught the measles and possibly you would, too.’

  He scribbled on the pad and passed it to her. She read: If I write a letter to Isabella, will you post it? I don’t want her catching it.

  ‘If you write it now I can post it before I go home,’ Lucia said.

  Thanks a bunch. You’re the tops. Anyway, before I do that – tell me how your day’s been?

  Lucia smiled and began telling him about her eventful day. He struggled not to laugh several times and, when she finished, he wrote: You’re the right kind of woman to have by any man’s side. She felt herself blushing and said, ‘It’s nice of you to say so. Is there anything else you want me to do for you?’

  I’d like you to stay and keep me company, but that is selfish of me. Your family need you.

  She could not deny the truth of those words but, before she stood up, so as to give him more elbow room to write his message to Isabella, she said, ‘If you get to feel worse and are worried about Jerry, if he’s feeling better, he could come to ours and spend time with Joseph.’

  Tim mouthed his thanks.

  Ten minutes later Lucia said her farewells and left, clutching the envelope addressed to Isabella. She wondered why he had not phoned the reporter, then remembered he could hardly speak. He could have asked Mrs Hudson to phone, but perhaps he had not thought of it. Maybe it was that he had wanted to send a more personal message? The thought made her feel slightly depressed.

  Michael was home when she entered the house after posting the letter. There was a smell of fried bacon and she saw that he was eating a butty.

  ‘You’ll spoil your dinner,’ she said.

  ‘I’m not wanting you to cook for me,’ Michael said. ‘I’m going to Marjorie’s and eating there.’

  ‘I was hoping you’d do a favour for me.’

  ‘If it’s to do with the kids I hope it won’t take long.’

  ‘Could you pop into Aunt Nellie’s on your way and tell her about the measles and ask her if she could visit Irene. Let them know that Jerry and Tim have definitely caught it, too.’

  ‘Why can’t he ring his brother?’

  ‘Tim can hardly speak. He has a really bad sore throat.’

  ‘Couldn’t you ring?’

  ‘I have to watch what I spend. It’ll be cheaper if you do what I ask.’

  Michael agreed, despite looking irritated. He went upstairs to change and was back down in no time at all. As he was on his way out, Lucia called, ‘Let me know if you decide to stay overnight at Marjorie’s.’

  ‘Will do,’ he sang out, slamming the door.

  In the silence that followed, Lucia was aware of coughing overhead and then the murmur of voices. She hurried upstairs and into the boys’ bedroom. ‘Who was coughing?’ she asked.

  ‘Me,’ said Gabrielle faintly. ‘Can I have some lemonade? My throat’s sore.’

  ‘So is mine,’ James said quickly.

  Lucia knew there was no lemonade in the house and decided to buy a bottle. Remembering how Mrs Hudson had been glad to escape the house, Lucia asked Theresa if she would like to go for the lemonade. Her sister agreed immediately and hurried to put on her coat and hat. Lucia asked her to also buy a jar of honey.

  While Theresa was out, Lucia asked the children if they were hungry. Only Joseph said he’d like a boiled egg with soldiers. No sooner had he made his request, Gabrielle said she’d love some bread and milk with sugar and nutmeg sprinkled on top. James said that he would like that too. Lucia headed for the kitchen and put eggs on to boil, thinking she and Theresa might as well have the same as Joseph for their evening meal. She heated milk, melting a knob of butter in it, and then cut several slices of bread. She quartered three of the slices and shared them out into two bowls before pouring the warm milk over the bread, sprinkled on demerara sugar and grated nutmeg; after placing the bowls on plates with spoons, she switched off the gas under the pan of eggs. Putting the plates on a tray, she took them upstairs, not forgetting to fling several tea towels over her shoulder.

  ‘Now don’t spill anything on the bedclothes,’ she warned Gabrielle and James, handing them each a tea towel before passing them the bowls.

  ‘Where’s my egg and soldiers?’ asked Joseph.

  ‘Coming up shortly,’ Lucia replied. ‘I’ve just got to toast the bread.’

  She left the bedroom and went downstairs, removed the eggs from the water and put them in egg cups, before lifting the toasting fork from a hook beside the fireplace and forking one of the slices of bread. It was relaxing, kneeling in front of the fire, holding the bread out to the red glow of the slumbering coals. Once all three slices were toasted, she buttered them and cut them into soldiers.

  Then she placed some on a plate with one of the eggs and a teaspoon and carried it upstairs and handed it to Joseph. She noticed that Gabrielle had finished her bread and milk and was running a finger around the bowl and sucking the sugar and nutmeg from the finger.

  ‘You enjoying that?’ Lucia asked.

  ‘Hmmm! It made my throat feel nice and warm. Now where’s my lemonade?’

  ‘Theresa’s not back with it yet. Be patient.’

  ‘I’ve finished,’ said James, holding out his empty bowl to Lucia. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Good lad,’ she said, ‘Now be good, all of you, and when the lemonade arrives, I’ll bring it up, and you can all have a drink with some honey and a tablet to make you start feeling better.’

  ‘Can I have my Barbie doll?’ asked Gabrielle.

  Lucia fetched it from the top of the chest of drawers in the bedroom next door and remembered to take some outfits as well. She though
t the clothes that Maggie had made were as good as the ones Babs had sent. Maggie – having been a model, and also having spent some time as a personal dresser to Liverpool actress, Dorothy Wilson – really knew something about style.

  When Lucia arrived back in the bedroom, James was reading the Wizard comic and Joseph was mopping up spilt yolk with the end of a soldier. He looked up at Lucia and said, ‘Did you say hello to Jerry for me when you went next door?’

  ‘No, but I told his dad that as soon as Jerry is feeling a bit better, he can come round here and spend time with you.’

  Joseph smiled and handed his plate to her. ‘Thanks, that was smashin’!’

  She kissed the top of his head and went downstairs; She was eating her egg and toast when Theresa came in. ‘You’ve been a while,’ said Lucia.

  ‘I got talking,’ Theresa said, placing the bottle of Schofield’s lemonade on the table, along with a pot of Gale’s honey and a McVitie’s ginger cake.

  ‘What’s with the cake?’ asked Lucia.

  ‘I saw it and fancied it. I know you like it, and I thought we deserved a treat.’

  ‘OK, I won’t give you a lecture on how we can’t afford to buy everything we fancy, because I think you’re right and we do deserve a treat,’ Lucia said. ‘Now you sit down and get warm and I’ll bring your egg and make us a cuppa before doing the kids’ drinks.’

  ‘You’ve done them something to eat?’

  ‘Yes.’ Lucia handed a plate to Theresa.

  When Lucia came back with the teapot, she asked her sister who she had been talking to.

  Theresa hesitated. ‘A girl from school who was doing shopping for her mother. Her little brother has measles as well.’ She looked about her. ‘Where’s our Michael?’

  ‘He’s seeing Marjorie.’

  ‘He should be staying in and helping with the kids. Boys – they get away with everything.’

  ‘He’s doing a job for me.’

  ‘What kind of job?’

  Lucia told her.

  Theresa made a snorting sound. ‘He’s not actually straining himself, is he?’

  ‘Let’s change the subject.’

  ‘So Jerry’s dad has got the measles bad?’

  ‘Yes,’ replied Lucia. ‘He could do with someone there full time to keep an eye on him; that’s why I asked Michael to pass the message on to his brother.’

  ‘I’m glad you didn’t volunteer for the job,’ said Theresa. ‘I know how fond of him you are.’

  ‘He’s interesting company.’

  ‘He’s an ex-jailbird.’

  ‘Uncle Francis believes he deserves a second chance. Anyway, hopefully his mother will come and visit him.’

  ‘Have you ever met his mother?’

  ‘No, but I suppose I’ll get to see her if she does come to see Tim and Jerry. I did offer to have Jerry, so Tim doesn’t have to worry about him.’

  ‘You’re a right glutton for punishment,’ said Theresa. ‘As if we didn’t have enough invalids to look after.’

  ‘I thought he’d be company for Joseph once they’re on the mend.’

  ‘I suppose you’ve got a point,’ said Theresa. ‘Anyway, the burden will be on you because I’ll be at school.’

  ‘You can do the shopping; I’ll have to stay in.’

  ‘OK.’ Theresa lifted the teapot and filled two teacups. ‘I suppose things could have been worse.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose they could.’

  Theresa fetched a knife and cut two slices of ginger cake. ‘This would be lovely with custard.’

  ‘We haven’t enough milk to make custard, more’s the pity,’ Lucia sighed. ‘Enjoy what you’ve got.’

  ‘I will. Shall I get some cups for the kids’ lemonade?’

  ‘Yes, I’m going to heat it up slightly and put a spoonful of honey in each cup – and they can have some Junior Disprin with their drinks,’ Lucia said. ‘I hope the doctor prescribed something to bring Tim’s temperature down. His face was really flushed.’

  ‘Oh, stop worrying about him. You sound like a mother hen,’ Theresa said.

  ‘I can’t help it. I’d feel sorry for anyone suffering in such a way.’

  Theresa pressed her lips together and went and fetched the lemonade.

  Lucia said no more about Tim, but ate her ginger cake and washed it down with tea before preparing the children’s drinks and taking them upstairs. She made them all go to the toilet before having their drinks and tablets and then read to them from Enid Blyton’s Adventures of the Wishing-Chair. Then she went downstairs and settled down to watch Z-Cars.

  The following morning Theresa was already up and had lit the fire when Lucia went downstairs. She watched silently as Lucia entered the kitchen and said, ‘Do you mind if I go out this evening? That girl I met in the corner shop mentioned that a film is showing that I’d like to see. I thought of going first house.’

  Lucia wanted to remind her that she needed some time off, but remembered her sister complaining about Michael, so decided fair was fair. ‘All right, but make sure you come straight home afterwards because I’ll be ready to drop by then.’

  Eight

  Lucia put two bowls on the table and placed Weetabix in them, sprinkled the cereal with sugar and poured on milk, thinking hard as she did so and eventually asked Theresa, ‘Where did you get the money from for the pictures?’

  ‘I saved the last two shillings Aunt Nellie gave me for pocket money.’

  ‘I see.’

  Lucia remembered the days when her aunt had given her a weekly shilling, and added to the shilling her father had given her, she had felt quite rich. Happy days! Now she was fortunate if she balanced her budget, knowing she would have to go without keeping any money back for herself. She guessed it was the same for many single women with a family to care for – it was different for men, though. On the whole it was accepted that they’d continue to be the breadwinner, while women would volunteer to take on the unpaid task of caring for the children. Of course some single carers remarried. She wondered if Tim were to remarry how Jerry would feel about sharing his daddy. Relationships were fraught with difficulties if one made the wrong choice.

  Having similar interests didn’t always mean life would go smoothly. Neither did being the same kind of people. It made sense if one partner was practical and good with their hands, and that wasn’t always the man. She knew wives who were wizard with a paintbrush and at wallpapering due to having to do those jobs when they had no man around to fit into the role expected of them. Then there were the men who always took care of the finances, even though they were hopeless with money, but were not prepared to hand the job over to their wives despite them never overspending on the housekeeping their husbands doled out.

  Thank goodness, times were changing now, as more wives were determined to go out to work, having become accustomed to earning money of their own during the war, and not having to depend upon their menfolk for every penny. Although she supposed there would always be women like her mother, who believed it was right that husbands should support their wives and children as it was a wife’s role to look after the children and their husband and the house.

  Thinking back, Lucia could seldom remember seeing her mother read a book. A newspaper or magazine, yes! Sometimes she had wondered whether she had only looked at the pictures because she couldn’t read very well. Her father, though, had enjoyed reading Edgar Wallace detective novels. She was glad to be living in an era when it was considered right that all girls should be educated, as well as boys, from an early age.

  She went upstairs and discovered James and Joseph were awake but Gabrielle was still snuggled beneath the bedcovers, so Lucia decided not to disturb her. She told the boys to dress and go downstairs for breakfast. They seemed happy to do so, despite their faces still being covered in spots, as were their necks and hands and arms.

  After they finished breakfast, she cleared the table and spread it with newspaper and produced paper and pencils, colouring books and paint-boxes.


  ‘Now if anyone starts feeling tired, then you must say so and you can have a rest,’ she said.

  ‘Down here?’ asked James.

  She nodded, thinking: anything to save her running up and down stairs.

  The morning passed slowly but peacefully, except for one incident when a paste jar of water was knocked over and soaked into a page that James was painting. Tempers were short and James slapped Joseph, who burst out crying. Obviously the boys were still not themselves.

  Lucia declared there was to be a break for lemonade and biscuits, which calmed everyone down. She took the opportunity to go upstairs and check on Gabrielle. Her sister was awake and said that the light hurt her eyes, so Lucia closed the curtains.

  ‘Would you like a drink and some cereal?’ she asked.

  ‘Just a drink, please,’ said Gabrielle huskily. ‘How are the others?’

  ‘Not too bad. Do you want to go to the lavatory? I’ll help you there if you feel weak.’

  ‘I’d like that.’ Gabrielle threw back the bedcovers and shuffled to the edge of the bed on her bottom.

  Lucia helped her up and kept an arm about her as they made their way out of the bedroom. She could feel the heat emanating from her sister through her nightdress and decided to get a couple of Junior Disprin down her as soon as possible; if she was still burning hot at lunchtime, she would sponge her down with cold water, and if she still did not improve then she would phone the doctor. There was always one in a family who was worse than the rest, and in their family it always seemed to be Gabrielle. Lucia remembered when her sister had the vaccination for diphtheria: she was the only one who had a reaction. Her mother had immediately thrown a wobbler, as she had not been keen on having any of the children injected, but had been persuaded by Nellie, who had reminded her that diphtheria was a really nasty disease and could be deadly. Several children had died of it when Nellie and Lottie were children.

  Lucia escorted Gabrielle back to bed and then hurried downstairs. James offered to go up and read to his sister, seeing that her eyes were hurting. Pleased by his thoughtfulness, Lucia said he should do that while she made a drink of lemonade and honey and dissolved two Disprin tablets in it for Gabrielle.

 

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