The Brilliant Life of Eudora Honeysett

by Annie Lyons

  Stanley gazes into the distance, lost in a moment’s reverie. “I had this dream. We were about to go dancing. She looked so beautiful, all dolled up. I could smell her perfume. And I was so happy to see her. I thought she was still with me and that her leaving me had all been a dream. And then I woke up . . .” Stanley glances at his late wife’s chair and starts to cry. He wraps his arms around his body and shakes as the sobs engulf him.

  Eudora freezes, darting a glance at the door and hoping Rose might burst through it, but she can hear the little girl still fussing over the dogs and realizes it’s down to her. She rises to her feet and approaches Stanley. He is hunched over like a man adopting the crash position, a picture of heartbreaking grief. She reaches out a hesitant hand, glancing toward the photograph of Ada on the side table and willing her to give Eudora strength. As her palm makes contact with Stanley’s shoulder, he stops crying but remains curled over with sadness.

  “There, there,” says Eudora before realizing how inadequate this sounds. She searches her mind for the right words. “You mustn’t upset yourself. Ada wouldn’t want you to be sad.”

  Stanley looks up at her in bewilderment. “She’d think I was a silly old fool sitting here feeling sorry for myself.”

  Eudora nods. “Very possibly. Now, come along. Dry your tears. Rose will be back with her astonishingly sweet cordial in a minute. It will make you wince, but it might make you feel better.”

  “Made with love, eh?”

  “Something like that.”

  Stanley fishes out his handkerchief and wipes his eyes. “I’m sorry, Eudora.”

  “What on earth are you sorry about? You miss your wife. You feel sad. It’s perfectly understandable. You certainly shouldn’t be apologizing to me.”

  “I just know you don’t like all this weeping and wailing.”

  “Everyone is different,” she says.

  “Thank you for coming to check up on me.”

  “You would do the same for me,” says Eudora.

  “I would.”

  “Here we are,” says Rose, carrying a tray into the living room. “And I found some chocolate biscuits, if that’s okay with you, Stanley?”

  As Stanley smiles and nods, Eudora sees a little of his old self return. “Of course, Rose. Anything for my two knights in shining armor.”

  “Can you have lady knights?” asks Rose with genuine interest.

  Stanley gestures at them both with open palms. “It would seem that way.”

  “Are you feeling better?” she asks, handing him a glass.

  Stanley takes a sip of the drink and winces before regaining his composure. “Much better, thank you, Rose.”

  “Good,” she says, munching on a biscuit. “Because I’ve got an invitation for you both.”

  Stanley glances at Eudora and smiles. She gives an uncertain laugh before darting her gaze back toward the photo of Ada. Eudora sees the sparkle in her eyes, a spirit of adventure, and a deep kindness, which makes her wish they’d known each other. She sends her a silent promise. I’ll make sure he’s all right, Ada. I’ll do my best for you while I can.

  Rose is pogoing up and down in her seat with excitement.

  Eudora turns to her. “Come along then, Rose. Don’t keep us in suspense any longer. What have you got in store for us now?”

  1958

  Sidney Avenue, South-East London

  The dress was perfect—a deferential nod to the exquisite gown Grace Kelly wore for her wedding only two years earlier, with a demure high-necked lace collar, empire waist, and elegant full skirt. It was everything Eudora could wish for. Her mother had cried and clutched Sylvia’s arm when she saw her daughter wearing it. Even Stella had nodded and smiled with obvious affection. Eudora had been relieved when her sister agreed to their mother’s idea of a shopping trip to London with fellow bridesmaid, Sylvia. Beatrice was adamant that they should do things properly.

  “The mother of the bride must buy her daughter’s dress. It’s tradition,” she said, eyes brimming with tears.

  Eudora didn’t want to put her mother to unnecessary expense, but she was glad her wedding was bringing Beatrice a rare moment of joy. She squeezed her mother’s hands. “Thank you, Mummy.”

  There had been a truce of sorts between Beatrice and her youngest daughter over the past six months and a change in Stella, which Eudora welcomed like a cooling breeze on a hot day.

  Stella had been attending the local church-run youth club and had even volunteered to run activities for some of the younger kids. Eudora was further reassured by the presence of Eddie, who often went along to teach mechanics to any teenagers who were interested. Having her fiancé there to keep an eye on Stella made Eudora feel as if life might finally be settling into something more hopeful. Eudora’s future was there for the taking and she intended to embrace it with open arms.

  With little over one month to go before the wedding, Eudora was skittish with excitement. Apart from the one extravagance of her dress, she had done her best to keep costs to a minimum. Although rationing was a thing of the past, she still harbored a strong sense of thriftiness. Eudora had rejected the idea of a fancy wedding reception for afternoon tea in the hall next to the church where they were to be married. She and Eddie would leave the reception at around six and catch a train to Eastbourne. There they would enjoy a weeklong honeymoon staying in a bed-and-breakfast run by a friend of Eddie’s mother, who had given them a reduced rate on a room with a sea view. Eudora was more than satisfied with their plans and couldn’t wait to begin their life together.

  Two weeks before the wedding, Sylvia suggested they go for afternoon tea up in town.

  “My treat. It can be our last hoorah before you walk up the aisle. Ask Stella and your mum along too if you like.”

  Eudora had been relieved when her mother and Stella had each declined the invitation. She loved them dearly, but it would be more relaxing with just Sylvia.

  “I’ve got to get on in the garden while the weather’s fine,” said Beatrice. “You go and have fun with Sylvia.”

  Eudora intended do just that. It was a beautiful, warm day and she was wearing her favorite summer dress. She stood in the hall getting ready to leave as Stella came down the stairs.

  “That dress always looks lovely on you, Dora,” she said, pausing to admire her sister.

  “Thank you, Stella,” said Eudora, looking up from the mirror as she smoothed her hair.

  “I’m sorry I can’t make it this afternoon.”

  Eudora turned to face her sister, noticing that her blue eyes were narrowed with concern. She patted Stella’s arm. “It’s all right. I understand. It’s far more important that you help out at the youth club.”

  “Mmm,” said Stella, staring at the floor.

  Eudora reached out and lifted her chin. “Really. It’s okay. It’s only afternoon tea with Sylvia.”

  “Darling Dora,” said Stella, flinging her arms around her sister and squeezing her tight. “You deserve to be happy.”

  Eudora smiled, holding her sister at arm’s length. “I am happy.”

  Stella stared into her eyes and nodded. “I think you will be. And you won’t need to worry about me anymore.”

  “I will always worry about you. It’s my job as your sister,” Eudora told her. “But I am proud of you. I know things haven’t been easy, but I feel as if you’ve turned a corner.”

  Stella opened her mouth to speak, hesitating as if struggling to find the right words. “I think I have too. I love you, Dora. Always remember that.”

  Eudora planted a kiss on her forehead. “Silly goose. Of course I will.”

  It had been a wonderful afternoon with Sylvia. They had laughed and reminisced about those magical evenings, dancing the night away. Then they shared their hopes and secret wishes for the future. Sylvia longed for a proposal from Kenny. Inspired by her own fairy tale, Eudora reassured her that she was certain it would happen any day. They talked about their dreams of happy marriages and homes full of child
ren, of the domestic bliss they were convinced was a heartbeat away.

  When Eudora looked back on that afternoon, she viewed it as one of the last times she was truly happy. It all came as such a shock. She felt naïve for not having had the faintest idea of what was about to happen. As the freight train plowed its way through her life, she realized she hadn’t even heard the whistle or the click-clack of the track.

  The house was quiet as she entered later that afternoon. Eudora relished the peace after so many years of coming home to the battling of her mother and sister.

  “Dora dear. Is that you?”

  “Yes, Mother,” she said, hanging her coat on the stand and making her way to the kitchen, where Beatrice was pouring boiling water into the teapot.

  “Would you like a cup, dear?”

  “No, thank you. I feel as if I’ve drunk gallons of the stuff.”

  Her mother smiled. “Did you have a nice time?”

  “It was lovely. Is Stella home yet?”

  “I haven’t heard her come in, but then I’ve been in the garden all afternoon. I’ve planted out the runner beans and lettuces,” she said, her mind clearly more focused on her horticultural endeavors than her younger daughter.

  “Mmm, strange. Maybe she’s in her room. I’ll go and check.”

  Eudora padded up the stairs and pushed open the door to Stella’s bedroom. It was uncharacteristically ordered, and Stella was nowhere to be seen. Eudora’s mouth went dry as she took in her surroundings, reaching out a hand to open Stella’s wardrobe. Empty. She cast around, realizing that all of Stella’s personal items were missing, along with the suitcase that usually sat on top of the wardrobe. “She’s gone!” cried Eudora, rushing out onto the landing.

  “Gone?” said Beatrice, appearing in the hallway. “What do you mean ‘gone’?”

  Eudora hurried downstairs. “I mean, she’s taken everything and left.”

  “Good heavens above. Should we call the police?”

  Eudora realized at that moment that she would be forever responsible for her mother. Beatrice didn’t have the first clue what to do. “Yes. I think we should.” The telephone began to ring as she reached the bottom step. Eudora snatched it up. “Stella?”

  “It’s Eddie,” said a voice.

  “Eddie. Oh, thank goodness. You have to come ’round at once. Stella’s gone missing. We’re worried about her.”

  There was a moment’s hesitation before he answered. “She’s with me.”

  “Oh. Good. Where did you find her?”

  Eddie cleared his throat. “The thing is, Dora . . . There’s no easy way to tell you this, but, well, Stella and me, we’ve become close over the last year or so and, well, I’m sorry but the wedding’s off.”

  Eudora knew she had to keep speaking, even though words were failing her. “What? What do you mean?”

  “Yeah, I mean, we’ve fallen in love and we’re getting married.”

  “You and Stella?” It sounded like a joke. A terrible, tragic joke.

  Eudora detected a hint of impatience in Eddie’s voice. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I’m sorry but, you know, these things happen.”

  “But she’s just a child.”

  “Well, no, actually. She’s eighteen, so she can make up her own mind. Sorry, Dor, but you and me, it was never going to work. You’re too . . .”

  Too trusting?

  Too foolish?

  Too naïve?

  “Too . . . ?” said Eudora, wondering at her perverse need to hear the awful truth.

  “Too straight and too nice. You deserve better than me. I’m a bit of a joker and so is Stella. Listen, I know this is a lot to take in but it’s for the best. You’ll see. We want you to be happy, Dor. I think you will be with us out of the picture. Find yourself a nice, reliable bloke like Kenny.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Look, we’ve got a train to catch. No hard feelings, okay? Oh, Stella wants to say something.”

  There was a crackle on the line as Eddie handed over the receiver. Eudora realized she was holding her breath.

  “Dora? I’m sorry, Dora. I wanted to tell you face-to-face but Eddie thought it was for the best this way. I meant what I said. I love you and I want you to be happy. I think you will be with us gone.”

  Eudora’s heart was pierced with white-hot hatred at the sound of her sister’s voice. It was a slap across the face and the wake-up call she needed. “Never call this number again. You are dead to us,” she said, before replacing the handset and crumpling to the floor.

  Chapter 10

  Eudora Honeysett is more than a little baffled to find herself waiting in the queue for a merry-go-round. Like most extraordinary events in her life of late, it’s Rose’s fault. And Stanley’s. But mostly she blames Rose.

  The potent combination of Rose’s wide-eyed delight on spotting the garishly opulent carousel ride teamed with Stanley’s melancholy expression as he told them both how much Ada used to love a merry-go-round made it impossible for Eudora to refuse.

  I could be sitting at home waiting to die, she thinks. And yet here I am in the searing August heat, pretending to enjoy myself because of an ill-advised promise I made to a dead woman and the overexcitement of a young girl. What has happened to me?

  “This is going to be so much fun!” cries Rose. “Which one are you going to choose? I like the look of William.” She points to a startled-looking horse, whose alarmingly clashing rainbow-colored body and golden mane could have come directly from the Rose Trewidney school of design.

  Eudora considers her options. A rather dashing white stallion with a regal red-and-gold-painted saddle catches her eye. She reads the name. It’s like a hand reaching out to her from the past. “I think I’ll choose Albert,” she says.

  “Oh. Like your dad,” says Rose.

  “How do you know that?” asks Eudora, unsure of whether to be pleased or annoyed.

  “You told me,” says Rose. “I have an excellent memory.”

  “You might need to lend me a dollop of that, Rose,” says Stanley.

  “Anytime, Stanley. Anytime.”

  As they reach the front of the queue, the young man on the gate gawks at Eudora and Stanley as if he’s never encountered a person over the age of sixty-five before. “Oi, Dave!” he shouts.

  A man with a weathered, impatient face glares over at them. “What?”

  The youth cocks his head at Eudora and Stanley. “Where shall I put ’em?”

  “You could always push us off the end of the pier,” mutters Eudora.

  The older man shrugs. “I dunno. They can go in the double-seater, if they want,” he says, gesturing toward a lower-level carousel car for two with a silver dragon design.

  Eudora’s patience has reached its limit. She pushes forward, squaring up to the young man, who looks terrified despite being nearly a foot taller and well over half a century younger than her. “Listen here, young man. I am going to ride Albert, do you understand? Now kindly allow me to pass so we can have our turn.”

  The older man cackles with laughter. “You tell him, sweetheart. Let them through, Dean, you doughnut.”

  Dean’s face reddens to a shade matching Albert’s saddle, but he does as he’s told. Emboldened by her victory, Eudora sweeps up to her horse and carefully climbs aboard, thankful that Albert’s design enables her to perch side-saddle while holding on tightly to his reins and pole. Rose and Stanley climb up onto the horses on either side of her.

  “I thought you wanted to ride William,” says Eudora to Rose.

  Rose shakes her head. “It’s more fun like this.”

  “You certainly put that lad in his place, Miss Honeysett,” says Stanley with an admiring glance.

  “Some people need to be told,” says Eudora.

  The reassuringly cheerful organ music strikes up as they set off, slowly at first but gradually picking up speed.

  “Whee!” cries Rose as they race past her mother and father. “Mum, Dad, look at
us! We’re flying!”

  It takes Eudora a moment or two to get used to the rise and fall of the carousel, but soon a sense of freedom—not unlike the way she feels when she’s swimming—rises up inside her. She glances over at Stanley, who is laughing at Rose’s enthusiastic whoops and cheers. Eudora wonders how they must look: two octogenarians and a small girl on a fairground ride; it’s faintly ridiculous. As she glances up, Eudora realizes that people are pointing and smiling at them. She finds herself raising her hand, offering a regal wave to the crowd. The smiles become waves and cheers accompanied by delighted comments.

  “She looks like the Queen!”

  “Good for her and the old boy!”

  “Hope I’m like that at their age.”

  Eudora breathes in cooling sea-salt air, exhilarated by this gloriously clamorous world. She catches Rose’s eye. The little girl’s gleeful grin is as infectious as her spirit.

  “You’re right, Rose,” she tells her. “This is fun.”

  Rose gives her a jubilant thumbs-up.

  Eudora is almost disappointed when the carousel eventually slows to a halt. Stanley slides down from his horse, offering her his hand. “Your majesty?”

  “The cheek of the man!” says Eudora, but she accepts his help all the same.

  “Wasn’t that brilliant?” says Rose, as they rejoin her parents on the other side of the barrier.

  “I’m a little dizzy but it was most enjoyable,” admits Eudora.

  “Praise indeed,” says Stanley with a grin.

  They find Maggie and Rob sitting on a bench in the shade. At first Eudora had been doubtful of Rose’s suggestion that she and Stanley join her family on a trip to the seaside. However, not only was Eudora bound by her promise to Ada, but when she heard that they would be visiting Broadstairs, her heart leapt. She had fond memories of this place and was keen to take one last trip.

  Maggie had offered Eudora a seat in the front next to Rob, but the sight of this heavily pregnant, weary young mother made it impossible for her to accept. Thankfully, modern life had done her a favor by inventing air-conditioning, ample legroom, and noise-canceling headphones, which meant Rose could listen to her beloved pop songs without disturbing her fellow passengers. Eudora chose to overlook her occasional tuneless accompaniment and even managed a nap during the journey.