by Kitty Neale
Glenda thanked Mrs Merton, tucked her toffee apple away in her handbag and first visited her best friend. She knocked on Helen’s door, smiling as she desperately tried to force Frank from her mind.
Helen seemed genuinely pleased and surprised to find Glenda standing on her doorstep.
‘Glenda!’ she exclaimed. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you today. Come in out of the cold, love.’
‘Thanks, Helen. I was just taking Johnnie for a stroll – a bit of fresh air is good for him. Not that the air round here is all that fresh. That blinking stench from Garton’s glucose factory and the fumes from the brewery … I swear it’s getting worse!’
‘I know, and so many people complain about it,’ said Helen as she helped Glenda in through the door with the pram. ‘I’m sure there’s sticky stuff on my windows from that factory. Come through to the kitchen, Dad is in his bed in the front room and Mum is upstairs having a nap.’
Glenda sat at the table in the cramped kitchen and stretched her neck to look out of the back door at the apple tree Helen had planted during the war, which sadly still wasn’t producing any fruit.
‘Sorry about the state of the tea,’ said Helen, ‘these leaves must have been brewed four times over and we haven’t got any sugar. This rationing is getting really tiresome now. I queued for over two hours yesterday afternoon just for a loaf of bread. It wouldn’t be so bad, but you know it’s hard for me to leave Mum and Dad by themselves.’
‘You should have said. I could have got you a loaf when I got mine,’ Glenda offered. ‘Talking of parents, I want to pop round to see mine, but does my face look all right?’
‘There’s still a faint bruise, but a bit more foundation and powder should cover it up. I’m afraid there’s not much else we can do about your wonky nose or gappy grin,’ Helen said lightheartedly, continuing to look at her. She paused. ‘There’s something else. You look different, Glenda. I can’t put my finger on it but there’s definitely something. You ain’t pregnant again, are you?’
‘No, don’t be daft,’ Glenda said, laughing. She could feel her cheeks begin to flush as she thought of Frank, and her friend quizzed her further.
‘So what is it, Glenda Jenkins? And don’t you go saying nothing ’cos I know there’s something! You can’t keep secrets from me, you know. I’ve been your best mate all your life and I know when you’re up to something. Look at you, smiling like the cat that’s got the cream.’
‘Oh, Helen,’ Glenda gushed, ‘you know me too well. You’re right, I can’t keep things from you, but if I tell you, you have to promise to keep it a secret.’
‘Of course I will, Glenda, you know that!’
‘Well,’ Glenda paused, ‘it’s this bloke I met called Frank …’
Ted was pleasantly surprised to find his only daughter standing in the front-room doorway, gently rocking his first grandson on her hip.
‘Glenda,’ he fussed, rushing over to take Johnnie from her arms, ‘leave the pram there, it’ll be fine. How lovely to see you, my gal. It’s been weeks. Come in, come in and sit yourself down. Look, Elsie, look who’s come to visit. It’s our Glenda and don’t she look a sight for sore eyes!’
Elsie raised a bit of a smile, but soon closed her eyes again as she drifted off to sleep on the small couch in the corner of the room.
‘Your mother’s a bit tired, love. It’s this weather. It’s turned cold again and it keeps her up at night when the wind blows down the chimney.’
‘The sun’s come out now and I’ve got her a little pressie from old Mrs Merton. Here you are.’ Glenda handed the toffee apple to Ted.
Such a thoughtful girl, he thought, but as a ray of sun shone through the window and illuminated her face, Ted caught sight of Glenda’s bruised eye. He could tell she’d tried to cover it with make-up and, as he studied her more closely, he noticed her nose looked misshapen too. He inwardly seethed, instantly knowing that her thug of a husband had been bashing her again. He wanted to question her about it but knew from experience that his daughter would always lie to cover for Harry, and he hated it when she did that. He took a deep breath and tried to carry on as normal.
‘And how have you both been? We ain’t seen you in a while.’
‘Yes, I know, Dad, and I’m sorry. It’s just that Johnnie’s been teething and I’ve been busy. You know how it is.’
Oh, yes, thought Ted, he knew exactly how it was. More like she’s been too injured and ashamed to show us her face. Though he expected to get the same old fairy story, Ted found he couldn’t help but have it out with her.
‘Look, love,’ he began, ‘we’ve been through this before and I don’t expect you’ll tell me anything different from last time, but if that old man of yours has been hitting you again, you don’t have to stay with him. You’ll always have a roof over your head here, and Johnnie too.’
Ted held his breath and stared intently at his beloved daughter. She had come late to them, when Elsie had been over forty. He himself was now nearly sixty-two years old, with gnarled hands from arthritis, but if he had been a younger and fitter man he would have marched straight round to Harry Jenkins and punched him on the nose.
‘I know you’ll always take me in, Dad, and thanks. I ain’t gonna lie to you again, so yes, Harry has been hitting me, pretty badly this time. But how can I leave him? He knows this is the first place I’d run to and he’d soon come round here to kick up a stink. He’d drag me back home and I’d suffer for daring to walk out on him. Not only that, I couldn’t divorce him. Oh, Dad, just think of it, the shame. Women round these parts don’t leave their husbands. It’s unheard of!’
Ted’s heart nearly crumbled as he saw the anguish in Glenda’s eyes. For her to finally admit that Harry had been hitting her … he must have really hurt her badly this time.
‘Sod what other people think. I couldn’t give a damn about all the gossips. If you want a divorce, my gal, then you bloody well get one! You’ve always been too good for the likes of that Jenkins lot. Rough they are, the whole lot of ’em. And I’ll tell you something else – there wouldn’t be a single person in these streets who would blame you for leaving that man. He’s got no right to hit you! Gawd rest his soul, if your brother was still here, I’d send him round there right now. See how brave that Harry is if a real man stood in front of him.’
Ted could feel the pain again like a stab to the heart when he thought of his son Philip, who had been killed in action during the D-Day landings. He’d been eight years older than Glenda and twice as big a man as that Harry Jenkins. He would have gone mad at the knowledge of anyone beating up his little sister and would have sorted the bully out.
‘I know what you’re saying, Dad, but that still doesn’t help if Harry comes round here to get me. What about Mum? You know how easily she gets upset. All the commotion would be too much for her.’
Ted noticed the tender look in Glenda’s eyes as she glanced over at her mother who was lying peacefully on the sofa, quietly snoring with her mouth slightly agape. He was thankful that Elsie seemed oblivious to the conversation between him and Glenda. It would have broken the woman’s heart had she known that their daughter was being beaten by Harry.
‘I’ll worry about your mother. You just go home now, get whatever stuff you need for you and the boy, then get yourself back round here sharpish. I’ll have your room ready and we’ll deal with whatever happens. If push comes to shove, I’ll call the Old Bill. Not only that, my mate Mick has a boy at Battersea Park station and I can have a word with him.’
‘Dad, you know the police aren’t interested in husband-and-wife stuff. They wouldn’t get involved even if Harry came round here to drag me home. They’d probably be on his side and tell me to go back to my husband where I belong. No, it’s best I just get on with things. I made my bed so I’ll have to lie in it. Anyhow, little Johnnie here needs his dad. I couldn’t take him away from his father.’
Ted bounced his grandson on his knee, his heart melting as the baby gave him a toothles
s grin. ‘Oh, Glenda. I wish there was something I could do. Maybe if I have a quiet word in Harry’s ear he might listen?’
‘I know you mean well, Dad, but please don’t. It’ll only make things worse. Harry doesn’t like me talking about our married life so it’s best if we keep this little chat between ourselves.’
Ted sighed. ‘All right, my gal, you’re a grown woman, so it’s your choice at the end of the day. I ain’t happy about it, though, so if you change your mind don’t you hesitate to get yourself home here.’
Ted tickled Johnnie’s tummy, making the child coo in delight, and as Glenda watched the two of them play, Ted could see there was something else behind the little smile that kept breaking out on his daughter’s face. The woman had been abused and battered, so why was she looking so happy?
‘Anything else been going on in the world of Glenda Jenkins?’ Ted teased. ‘Only you look like Churchill did on VE Day!’
‘Course not, Dad, just the usual stuff. I called in on Helen next door before I came round here. Seems her mum is getting more and more forgetful. She was asleep upstairs, but when she woke up and came down, she called me Elsie! Helen tried to tell her I was Elsie’s daughter but she wouldn’t have it. She even tried to drag me out while going on about the “protest” and how we would be able to vote soon. She started getting quite excited and poor Helen had a job calming her down!’
Ted chuckled and sat back in his chair, remembering the feisty little thing Elsie had been years earlier when they had first met. ‘Cor, that takes me back.’ He smiled at Glenda. ‘Your mother and her next door were a formidable twosome in their day. They kicked up quite a stink round here, banging on about the right of the ordinary woman to vote. Must have been about twenty-odd years ago when they finally won and huh, the jollies them two had that night. Course you won’t remember, you was just a nipper then yourself, not much older than Johnnie boy now.’
‘What? Mum was a Suffragette?’
‘Well, not as such, but she had a right gob on her and stood up for what she believed to be right. She went on quite a few marches and protests up in London town, swinging her banner and shouting her mouth off. Blimey, the temper on her too. I used to call her “Frowny Crowny” on account of her name being Elsie Crown.’
‘I never knew Mum was like that! She’s always been so … so quiet.’
‘She changed when you were born, but she was one helluva woman when we first met.’ Ted looked across to his wife. He would never cry in front of his daughter, but his eyes glistened. It had been love at first sight when he’d met Elsie and she had proved to be the love of his life.
‘I remember the first time I saw her. She was coming out of a big house over Chelsea way. She was in service there, see. Anyhow, right haughty she looked, nose in the air, marching down the Embankment in her shiny black boots, ankle-length dress with a nipped-in waist, pretty as a picture she was, just like you now. I remember catching sight of her and thinking how I wished I was brave enough to make her acquaintance.’
‘Well, you must have managed it,’ Glenda pointed out, smiling.
‘Yeah, well, as luck would ’ave it for me, this old horse and cart went rushing past her, almost galloping it was. It nearly knocked her off her feet and as it sped through a dirty old puddle, a big splash of mucky water went all over your mother’s dress. Cor blimey, she shouted out some obscenities, words I had never heard a woman use before, but it did make me laugh! Course, she caught me laughing, didn’t she, and that was that, she turned her anger to me then. I did my best to calm her and eventually she let me introduce meself. Funny little thing she was, and when she told me her name was Elsie Crown, she added, “Crown, like what the Queen wears.” It still tickles me all these years later.’
Ted stood up and placed Johnnie back in his pram then walked over to his wife and gently pulled a blanket over her legs.
‘Oh, Dad, that’s a lovely story,’ Glenda said as she rose to her feet. ‘I know the sun’s shining, but it’s a bit nippy for Mum in here. I’ll go out to the shed and bring some coal in. You could do with lighting that fire.’
‘No point, love,’ said Ted glumly, ‘you won’t find no coal in the shed.’
‘I know there’s shortages, Dad, but the coal cart was round the streets last week. Didn’t you get any?’
Ted was a proud man, but after Glenda’s openness earlier he felt she deserved the same honesty in return. ‘He would have stopped if I could have paid him. Thing is, love, I’m a bit strapped at the moment. Your mother needed some tonics from the doctor and he ain’t cheap, but not to worry. There’s an old railway sleeper out in the back yard. I’ll chop that up and use it but I’m waiting ’til it gets a bit colder yet. And if need be, Philip’s old wardrobe is sitting empty now so that’ll make a good bit of firewood.’
‘Oh, Dad, why didn’t you say?’
‘And what would be the point of that, eh? I won’t take no handouts from my own daughter! Don’t worry, love, we’ve been through tougher times than this. Us Webbers are made of stern stuff, ya know!’
‘I’m not.’
‘Of course you are. You’ve just had a bit of your courage knocked out of you, but one day, like a worm, you’ll turn. I know you will.’ It was then that Ted noticed a silly smile again on Glenda’s face and a bit of a twinkle in her eye. ‘You still haven’t told me what’s making them cheeks of yours nice and rosy, and don’t tell me it’s the wind!’
Glenda blushed again and went over to the window to look out onto the street, moving from one foot to the other and obviously excited about something. It was nice to see her looking so happy, thought Ted, but he knew it was not of Harry’s doing.
‘It’s nothing really, Dad. I’ve just got a new friend, that’s all.’
‘Oh,’ said Ted, raising his chin in the air, ‘and this new friend, does he have a name?’
Glenda spun round to look at her dad, her expression one of shock, but she nodded. ‘Yes, his name is Frank. He’s such a nice bloke, Dad, a proper gentleman. Of course Harry mustn’t find out, but we’re only friends. It’s just nice to have someone to talk to who is kind and caring. I dunno, maybe I’m being silly, but I just like spending time with him, that’s all.’
Ted nodded his head. He recognised that look when his daughter spoke of Frank. It was the same way Elsie used to look when they had first gotten together. Glenda never had that look when she talked about Harry. Oh, well, if this Frank made his daughter happy, who was he to question it? The girl deserved at least a small bit of joy so good luck to her. He only hoped that awful Harry never found out …
Chapter 6
It was a sunny but chilly Friday morning as Glenda pushed her pram over Battersea Bridge, excited about meeting Frank on the other side. She was glad of the good weather, but if she was honest even a hurricane wouldn’t put a dampener on her spirits today. This was the second time she was meeting Frank in secret and though she hadn’t known him long, she felt she knew him well. It was odd, she thought, that Frank was so different from his brother Billy. Not just in appearance but in personality too. Frank was warm and funny; he had a confident air about him but his light spirit made her feel instantly relaxed. On the other hand, his brother gave her the creeps. She shuddered as she dismissed any further thoughts of Billy.
The week had dragged by so slowly, but she had managed to tolerate Harry and his demands by creating her own little daydream world with Frank as the focus of her thoughts. Oh, why couldn’t Harry be more like Frank? she mused as she glanced at the dirty-looking River Thames flowing under the bridge below her. There had been a time a short while ago when she’d felt like throwing herself off this bridge, but something was different now. Something was bringing light into her life, just like the sunshine that was warming her face. That something was Frank and she quickened her pace, eager to get to the other side.
Soon enough, Glenda spotted a man in a long grey mac and trilby hat whom she instantly recognised as Frank. He was holding a carpet bag and
waving furiously at her. Oh, good, she thought, he looks just as keen to see me as I am to see him! She almost ran, and was slightly breathless as she reached Frank, who dropped his bag and swept her up into his arms, lifting her feet from the ground and squeezing her tightly.
Glenda was taken aback by such an enthusiastic greeting and slightly embarrassed by a public show of emotion, but, as soon as Frank spoke, her embarrassment faded and her heart melted.
‘I’ve missed you, Glenda Jenkins!’ Frank crooned as he stared intently into Glenda’s dark eyes. ‘I couldn’t wait to see you.’
‘You too, Frank,’ whispered Glenda, nervous but excited at the same time. Oh, dear, she thought, is he going to kiss me? Her body tensed. She wasn’t sure if Frank felt her stiffen but he released her from his fervent hug and she found her feet back on the ground.
‘I’m sorry, Glenda, that was a bit much. It’s just that I’ve been thinking about you all week and it’s been driving me crazy not seeing you. I got a bit over-excited.’
Glenda smiled as Frank winked at her and flashed her one of his cheeky grins. She knew how he felt; it had been the same for her too.
‘I’ve done us a bite to eat for lunch. How about we take a stroll down Cheyne Walk first?’ Frank asked.
‘Sounds lovely. I must admit, I’ve never been over this side of the water. It’s a bit different from Battersea!’ Glenda suddenly felt very scruffy and out of date in her black wool coat, which was bobbled with age, and her headscarf looked so old fashioned compared to the fancy hats the women here were wearing.
‘This is where the rich and famous live. Do you know Turner lived down this road?’ said Frank, gesturing with his hand.