by Annie Murray
She had also been looking after Gladys, who was feverish and had a bad chesty cough. And Mom and Dad had been having more of their ding-dongs since Gladys arrived.
Last night, Dad had been on about getting another stall – in London.
‘Are you mad, Danny?’ Rachel was off straight away. ‘What the hell’re you on about? We can only just manage the one you’ve got here – all that running about to Somerset and down to London. What d’you want to go piling it on for – eh? We’ve got enough coming in.’
‘You have to diversify. That’s business!’ Her father stood in the kitchen, shirt hanging out of his trousers, waving his arms around so he nearly took Kev’s head off.
‘Apart from anything,’ Rachel said, ‘it’s all owned by them Jewish lads down there. That time you went down and everything was shut, remember? Jewish holiday. Says it all, doesn’t it.’
‘They’re all right, those lads,’ Danny said. ‘I do business with ’em all the time.’
‘They’d run rings round you, Danny. You don’t believe me, I know – but they would. Closed shop, they are – they look after their own. You’re best off where you are.’
Rachel moved away to cook his fry-up, as if the argument was already closed. Which in a way it was because they’d never agree and Mom was usually right.
But it wasn’t over because then she turned from the spitting frying pan and said, ‘And anyway – I was thinking, it’s time I learned to drive.’
It wasn’t just Dad – everyone in the room looked startled.
‘You?’ Danny said. ‘Drive?’ He sank on to a chair as if the very idea had floored him and grinned at her.
‘What d’you mean you?’ Rachel was on her high horse immediately. She wielded a spatula in his direction. ‘What’s wrong with that? Even our Tommy’s driving so why the hell shouldn’t I?’
Tommy was still getting the hang of his three-wheeler. He had been very nervous at first, but Melly could see he was enjoying the freedom of it.
Danny shook his head. ‘Lady drivers . . .’ He was half serious, half teasing, but Rachel didn’t see it that way.
‘Ladies don’t drive cars,’ Ricky announced, not especially helpfully.
Mom was off. ‘Oh, don’t they? For heaven’s sake, Danny, what about Cissy? That baby sister of mine’s been swanning about in a car for ages. And Mrs Hipkiss along the road drives the car all the time – and that Mrs Robb – she’s got her own car.’
‘Well, she’s a widow,’ Danny pointed out, ‘so there ain’t no one to stop her.’
‘For God’s sake!’ Rachel erupted. ‘Of course ladies drive – what about all that lot in the war?’
Sometimes, even in this house which was a palace compared to the yard in Aston, it still felt as if there were too many people in it. Melly found herself aching for the peace of her room in the nurses’ home.
She went home, carrying her few bits of shopping. Outside the house was parked a smart red car. She frowned. Whose could that be?
She could hear Gladys coughing upstairs and voices from the back. Mom was home from the school, but who else was here? She shouldered the kitchen door open.
‘Mom, whose is that—?’
Sitting with Mom at the table was Reggie Morrison.
‘Oh!’ Melly stalled, startled.
‘Look who’s here,’ Rachel said. ‘Put the kettle on again, will you, wench. He’s only just arrived. He went to see Auntie – didn’t you, bab? – and found she was over here. That’s nice of you, Reggie.’
‘All right, Reggie,’ Melly said, taking refuge in filling the kettle and unpacking the shopping.
‘I thought I’d call on her before I go,’ Reggie said. He seemed flustered.
‘To the college?’ Melly said. She found herself very conscious of her clothes, the same boring old rags: grey skirt, white blouse, black shoes. She had her hair just scraped up anyhow. She wished it didn’t matter but she felt plain and drab.
‘Yes – I’m going back on Thursday,’ he said.
Melly nodded, not looking at him.
‘Your mother all right?’ Rachel asked. ‘And Mo?’
‘Yeah – they’re all right,’ Reggie said. ‘Jonny’s home – nose in a book all the time as usual. Mom says you can’t get a word out of him and when you do you can’t understand it!’
Gladys laughed. After Jonny had done his National Service, he had gone to Birmingham University to study history. He was now completing his training to be a teacher.
‘He’s got his exams any day now, ‘Reggie said.
‘Rather him than me,’ Rachel said. Melly felt a prickle of irritation. Why was Mom so down on anyone who tried to do anything different?
‘Good for him,’ Melly said, getting the teapot ready. She was glad to have something to be in charge of. It made her feel less awkward with Reggie being there. After all, it was Auntie he had come to see. Gladys was ‘auntie’ to all the Morrison kids as well as to her.
‘Someone had to get the brains,’ Reggie said.
‘Have a cake with your tea, Reggie?’ Rachel asked. ‘Did you get buns, Melly?’
‘Chelseas,’ Melly said. ‘And Auntie’s cream horn.’
‘Oh, no – you’re all right,’ Reggie said. ‘I’m not hungry, ta.’
‘I don’t think Auntie’ll be up to eating that,’ Rachel said. ‘You have it, love – keep you going.’
‘Oh – all right then, if you’re sure.’
They drank their tea and talked about the families. Reggie was very interested in Tommy’s car.
‘Fancy him getting one of them,’ he said. ‘That’s nice for him.’
‘He’ll be back soon – you can see it,’ Rachel said. ‘You could have one, couldn’t you?’
Reggie blushed. Melly felt very annoyed with Mom – she could see he didn’t like being put in the same camp as Tommy.
‘Don’t need one,’ he said. ‘I can drive an ordinary car.’ He jerked his head with a shy grin. ‘It’s parked out there.’
‘Oh,’ Rachel said. ‘Yes. Course. I was thinking you’d come on the bus.’
So that was Reggie’s! Melly thought. It was hard even now to remember how much money Mo and Dolly had going spare. They had been very careful with it.
‘You’ve got a nice bit of garden here, haven’t you?’ Reggie said. ‘You can grow your own stuff. Our dad’s gone mad on it with that big patch they’ve got. He reckons he’s grown the biggest swedes in the whole street this year.’
Melly wrinkled her nose. She was not keen on swede. Mom and Dad had never got round to planting anything in their strip of back garden. But she was intrigued. Reggie had changed.
‘Nothing by halves, our Mo,’ Rachel said. She pushed herself up from the table. ‘’Scuse me a tick.’
Melly felt herself tense as her mother left the room. She and Reggie were silent for a moment. She became acutely aware of his physical presence at the end of the table, the shape of his shoulders, the hairs on his arm below his rolled sleeve, as it rested on the table.
‘I, er . . .’ Reggie said. He glanced at the door. She could see he wanted to speak quickly, before Mom came back. ‘I’m off on Thursday, as I say.’ As he spoke he was looking at the tablecloth’s red-and-white checks. ‘I’ve got a couple of days free. I was thinking, as you’re . . . Well, you know, you’re at home, like – whether you’d fancy a day out somewhere?’
Melly’s heart slammed into panicky thudding.
‘I . . .’ she began. ‘I . . . That’s nice of you, Reggie. But I can’t. I’m at work the next three days – at Pearce’s shop. Those are the days I do.’
‘Oh.’ He looked disillusioned. She realized that not only had she said she couldn’t come with him, she had also sounded as if she didn’t want to. In fact she was not at all sure that she did want to, but she felt terrible for hurting his feelings.
‘Well . . .’ Reggie was red-faced now. She was touched. ‘What about today? Now, like? Have you got anything else on?’
&
nbsp; ‘No,’ she had to admit. A pain went through her. She could not make sense of it, how it felt. It was a long time since she had felt anything much. ‘No, I haven’t.’ She looked across at him. Even though a part of her was desperate to run and hide, he was being kind and she couldn’t turn him down. ‘All right, then.’
Forty-Seven
‘Fancy going out to the Lickeys?’ Reggie said as they stepped out of the house. He lit a cigarette. Now that they were alone he seemed nervous again.
‘All right.’
‘Here we are then.’
She looked more closely at his red sports car – a sleek, low-slung creation with headlamps like peeping eyes – and a chuckle burst out of her.
‘What’s so funny?’ Reggie sounded rather wounded. He was opening the passenger door for her.
‘It’s just – you know, any of us having a car like this. Is it a Daimler?’
‘Austin-Healey – it’s called a Bugeye Sprite,’ he said. ‘Dad gave me most of the money for it.’
Melly giggled, settling herself in the car’s tight little space. ‘It’s like Cissy’s. Hers is a Daimler, I think she said – and it’s white.’
‘Cissy’s got a car like this?’ Reggie said, astonished.
‘Her husband bought it for her, if you please – they’re rolling in it.’
Reggie laughed then, as he slammed the door and started up the throbbing engine. ‘Blimey – trust Cissy. She always had an eye for the main chance, that one.’
Melly looked at him in surprise. It was news to her that he had ever even noticed Cissy.
She felt lighter at heart as Reggie turned towards Selly Oak and then out along the Bristol Road towards the Lickey Hills. It was nice to get out – and to do it with some company for a change instead of sitting in parks alone, locked into her own moods.
They didn’t talk a lot. It was too much effort against the force of the wind with the car roof down. She had tied her hair up, but even in the low seat, the force of the wind billowed bits of it round her face and her cheeks felt battered by it. She felt freer and suddenly more alive than she had in ages. It was a relief to feel something good, after the numbness that had taken her over.
Now and then, as they roared along, Reggie glanced at her. When she looked back, they smiled. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the movement of Reggie’s thighs as he worked the pedals. He felt at once foreign to her and overwhelmingly familiar. It was all very strange. But she began to relax.
Once they had parked, he said, ‘Well – how about a walk? Then I’ll take you to the tea rooms, if there’s time.’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘All right. But . . .’ She looked at him, awkward now.
‘It’s all right,’ he said, dignified. ‘I can walk. Just not as fast as some.’
She was sorry for asking then.
They set off along the green paths of the hills, Reggie with his stick. Melly found the pace soothing. She kept thinking how odd it felt to be here with Reggie of all people. She imagined how she would have felt if she was twelve. Oh, how she had worshipped him! She thought he was the be-all and end-all. All that hanging about in the yard, waiting for him to put in an appearance. She smiled at the thought of herself.
They stopped at the top of the high hill. A haze hung over the city, which looked like a model in the distance.
‘Doesn’t look real, does it?’ Reggie said.
‘I can’t believe that’s really where we live,’ she said. She glanced at Reggie. He was staring into the far distance. ‘D’you remember that time you took me out on the bike?’
Again, she wanted to bite her tongue out – fancy coming out with that after what had happened to Wally! But Reggie didn’t appear to be offended. He seemed glad that she’d brought it up and made an amused sound.
‘Why did you?’
‘Dunno.’ He pushed his left hand down into his pocket. ‘Probably felt sorry for you. You were always hanging about on your own.’
‘Is that why you brought me out today? Cos you feel sorry for me?’
Her tone was sharper than she intended and Reggie looked uncomfortable. Straight away she felt drab and severe-looking again and wished she hadn’t said anything.
‘No,’ he said. ‘Well, maybe – a bit. But it wasn’t just that.’ He paused. ‘I thought you’d like it.’
‘I do.’ She relented. She liked it more than she had expected. It felt good to be out, to be high up. She could breathe more easily. But she didn’t want to feel pathetic, like some charity case.
After a moment she realized Reggie was looking at her, closely, seeming to search her with his eyes.
‘Auntie said you’d been having a rough time – that’s all.’
‘Oh, did she?’ Now she sounded really irritable and didn’t mean that either. ‘Come on – let’s get going.’
They strolled along hardly noticing where they were going between the trees, talking more lightly. Reggie told her about the family, how his brothers were getting along, about his job.
‘I never expected to do anything like this,’ he said. He seemed to come fully alive talking about it. ‘Growing up where we did – I hardly knew what a blade of grass looked like, never mind all the stuff I know now! I s’pose I’ve got the accident to thank for it. If that hadn’t happened, I’d’ve just stayed on where I was, at GEC, even after the army. I know Mom and Dad got that money – that made a difference in a way. But it was smashing my leg up that did it really. It changed everything.’
‘You’ve had a rough time as well,’ she said.
There was a silence.
‘I think about him every day.’ Reggie sounded awkward, but as if he needed to say it. ‘Wal. I wonder what he’d be doing. If we hadn’t . . . You know.’
‘Having adventures, I expect. Like he always did.’ She didn’t know what made her say that. Truly, she’d barely known Wally Morrison, as he was even older than Reggie. But he had been such a lively, good-looking man. Reggie gave a little laugh.
‘Yeah. You bet.’ He seemed pleased by what she said. ‘There’s not that many people remember him, except the family.’
‘Oh,’ she said, and added, because it would please him, ‘I remember him.’
‘He was the one with the looks,’ he said, teasing a little.
‘Not just him,’ she said, teasing him back as he fished for compliments. ‘Freddie’s a looker as well. Cissy used to like him – remember?’
‘I’d forgotten that. Well, Freddie’s going about with a girl called Sal now – she’s all right. Doesn’t take any of his nonsense.’
They walked in single file for a moment along a narrow part of the path. Melly watched Reggie as he stepped ahead of her, supported by the stick. His injured hip still made his tread uneven but the sight of him walking moved her with tenderness. He had always been wiry, but the outdoor life had made him much broader and stronger than the pale lad she remembered.
As she rejoined him at his side, to walk down a wooded slope, he said almost casually, ‘So, what happened to you, Melly?’
‘Happened?’ Her heart started thudding unpleasantly.
‘At the hospital. You wanted to be a nurse, didn’t you?’
Wanted. Past tense.
‘I . . .’ Abruptly, with no warning, she was sweating, her heart pounding. It was like going right back into it, the panic, the stifling sense of horror.
‘Hey . . .’ Reggie turned and saw that his question had stirred her up. ‘Sorry, Melly. I dain’t mean to . . . Shall we sit down for a bit – here.’
He led her to a grassy lip beside the path. She sank down, grateful, feeling the cool of grass stems at the backs of her legs. Without knowing it was going to happen she was heaving with deep, wrenching sobs. She heard the rough, distraught sounds as if they were coming from someone else. Her chest heaved and she gasped for each breath.
‘Hey,’ Reggie said. ‘There now. It’s all right. I dain’t mean to make you cry . . .’
She felt his arm roun
d her shoulders, his solid strength beside her as she screwed her eyes shut, falling into a dark place of scattered images – Mr Alexander on the floor; blood, so much blood; and above all terror and panic. For a few moments she knew nothing except this place where there was no base, nothing to catch her, just a sense of falling, of darkness and fear. Only when she began to surface, to let cracks of light between her wet lids, did she realize she was shaking all over, her knees jerking up and down.
‘Melly,’ Reggie was saying. Then louder, ‘Melly! Open your eyes. It’s all right. Don’t, don’t – it’s all right.’
Only then did she realize that what had held her and stopped her from falling endlessly was Reggie’s arm and his voice, talking, making reassuring noises.
He didn’t ask her anything until she was calmer and the shaking had almost stopped. She sat for a time, stunned, as if all she wanted to do was sink into sleep, there on the path. He was gentle and didn’t push her, or say anything. He kept his arm about her back to steady her and he waited. Of all the things anyone had ever done for her, she was grateful for this, his sitting there, waiting.
Eventually, she pulled her hands over her eyes to dry her tears. She found herself yawning.
‘Sorry,’ she said, very quietly, embarrassed now. ‘I never meant for that to happen.’
She turned to Reggie. In his eyes she could see bewilderment, but also that she had not frightened him away. He was here.
‘It’s all right,’ he said.
They sat for a few more moments and then he said:
‘What the hell happened, Melly – in that hospital?’
As they walked on, she tried to explain.
‘I s’pose it was all a build-up of things,’ she said. She felt limp and exhausted, but cleansed as well. ‘No one tells you what it’s going to be like. They can’t, really. It’s – well, it’s life and death. Only it’s one thing to say that but when you’re there . . . The only death I really knew about before was Wally. And I don’t know if I really took that in. Not exactly. Anyway, there were other deaths before, on other wards. And it wasn’t just death, exactly – it was . . . I don’t know.’