When Day is Done

by When Day is Done (retail) (epub

  ‘But Aunt, the food. It’s getting scarcer all the time with more ships being sunk. It’ll only get worse. How will we manage?’ Kate said desperately.

  ‘Very well,’ Mildred said with a smirk. ‘Mr Dyson said he’d look after us. He won’t let his nieces starve and he’s got an allotment too for vegetables. And I’ve got another guest. The strangest coincidence. He’d gone into the butcher’s to ask directions here and he heard something of what Mr Dyson said to me. He knew of us because he was a friend of Mr James Hughes – you remember, one of the bank clerks who lived here, and was killed at the Front.’

  Kate felt like a prisoner whose escape had been barred at the last moment. She said nothing, and Mildred went on briskly, ‘The Misses Barry will have Mrs Bradley’s room as a sitting room and share number three as their bedroom. Mr Trent will have number six. He will arrive tomorrow and the ladies on Saturday.’ She added that Mr Trent didn’t want any gossip about him. ‘He’s doing secret work for the Army and he’s been travelling about the country, but he’ll be in Liverpool for some time,’ she said.

  ‘Very well, Aunt,’ Kate said quietly, and went back to the kitchen. Lottie was waiting eagerly, but one look at Kate’s face showed that all was not well. Kate sank into a chair and said hopelessly, ‘She’s done it again, Lottie. I tried to say about closing but she told me she’s got three new guests.’

  ‘She’s got no right without telling you,’ Lottie said indignantly, pushing the kettle on to the fire for tea. ‘Why didn’t you tell her you was going? If she wants guests, let her look after them herself.’

  Kate shrugged. ‘Because I’m a weakling, I suppose. You don’t have to stay, Lot. Even if she wouldn’t let you sleep here you could get a living-in job that’d be easier than here, and better paid.’

  ‘If you’re staying I am,’ Lottie declared. ‘I won’t go off and leave you. How did she get the new guests?’

  Kate related to Lottie what her aunt had told her, and Lottie said with disgust, ‘She’s always one step ahead. I’ll bet she knew what you was going to say to her and got in first.’ She sipped her tea thoughtfully. ‘But when did she fix it up? She told me I could go out last night even though you was out too. I’ll bet she wanted the house empty to show them the rooms. They wouldn’t take them without seeing them, would they?’

  Kate thought that Lottie was probably right. ‘I hope this man doesn’t expect things to be like when Mr Hughes was here,’ she said. ‘And I’m worried about the butcher’s nieces if they’ve been used to being spoiled.’

  ‘If he’s been travelling round the country he’ll know how things are, and if them women don’t like it they know what to do,’ Lottie said robustly. ‘It’s not our worry. We can always go back to our other plan,’ and she and Kate laughed together.

  ‘Oh Lottie, as long as you’re staying I don’t mind,’ Kate said. ‘I was dreading going to another job, to tell you the truth. But I don’t know what Josie’s going to say.’

  Mildred had a sick headache on Saturday, so Kate received the Misses Barry when they came, accompanied by their uncle. Kate had made the sitting room look welcoming, with a bright fire burning and a vase of chrysanthemums on the table.

  The two middle-aged women seemed shy and timid, but they made twittering murmurs of pleasure when Mr Dyson said heartily, ‘There you are, girls. You’ll be happy here, and your aunt and I are just round the corner.’ Kate promised to send tea to their room and ushered Mr Dyson out.

  Downstairs he took a damp parcel from his pocket. ‘A bit of steak,’ he said. ‘And I’ll have something from the allotment for you on Monday. Never fear, I’ll look after you, miss. I’m glad to have the girls settled here.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Dyson. I hope they’ll be happy,’ Kate murmured.

  ‘They will be,’ he said confidently. ‘They’re as helpless as newborn babes, as I told your aunt. Never had to do anything for themselves, see.’

  Kate looked alarmed, and he went on quickly, ‘They’re not ill or anything, just a bit lost. The last of the family, and before the war they always had plenty of servants to carry them round. Then the young ones left, and the old woman who looked after them went to her widowed sister in Wales a year ago.’

  Kate said nothing, gently urging him towards the door, but he went on, ‘The solicitor fellow closed the house and got them into a hotel at Southport, but they were mixing with people who might have took advantage of them. Mrs Dyson and I thought they’d be better near us, where we can keep an eye on them.’

  He went at last, and shortly afterwards the other guest arrived. He introduced himself as Gordon Trent, and gave no explanation for being a day later than expected. He told Kate that he needed a quiet billet. ‘I was wounded at Leuze Wood, at the Somme. I got a Blighty one and afterwards I was seconded to Intelligence. I’ve got my eye on some people in Liverpool, but it’s important they don’t know I’m here until I’m ready to move against them.’

  Kate thought it was all very exciting and assured him that his secret would be safe. His room was the smallest and darkest in the house, but he said it was admirable. He would probably be in Liverpool for some time but might have to leave suddenly.

  Life soon settled into a smooth pattern with the new guests. Lottie had unpacked for the Misses Barry and had been given a sovereign by Miss Ethel and a pretty butterfly brooch by Miss Isabel, so she was now their devoted slave. Mildred kept to her rooms while she was in the house, and Mr Trent slipped in and out on his mysterious business, often via the basement entrance. He and Mr Culshaw only exchanged formal greetings or comments about the weather.

  Kate often thought about her discussion with Josie about Henry, and particularly about a comment that Josie had made that there was no reason why Kate should not openly go to visit Mrs Barnes. ‘You were friendly when she was Miss Tate,’ she pointed out. ‘No need to be just skulking round the house.’

  Kate made up her mind that she would call on the first fine Sunday after Christmas, and although her courage almost failed, she found herself on the step of the house in Rufford Road, dressed in her best.

  The door was opened by a tall, grim woman, but as Kate faltered out her request to see Mrs Barnes, Agnes appeared in the hall.

  ‘Kate!’ she cried, coming forward with her hands outstretched. ‘How nice to see you.’ She turned to the older lady. ‘It’s all right, Mother,’ she said. ‘Kate is an old friend. Miss Drew, my mother, Mrs Tate.’ Mrs Tate acknowledged the introduction with an inclination of her head, and Agnes drew Kate into a room to the right of the hall.

  ‘I—I was in the neighbourhood,’ Kate stammered, but Agnes drew her down beside her.

  ‘How nice to see someone from the old days. How happy we were, Kate, and so unaware of what was to come.’ She sighed. ‘This dreadful war. Will it ever end?’ There was a large silver-framed photograph of Henry in officer’s uniform on a side table, and Agnes picked it up. ‘You know Mr Barnes went into the Army, the King’s, in 1915?’

  Kate nodded, unable to speak as she looked at the photograph. How handsome he was, she thought, and he looked so happy and full of life. Agnes replaced the photograph and sighed. ‘His spanking new uniform,’ she said. ‘It looks more shabby and worn now, and so does he.’

  ‘But he’s still safe?’ Kate said.

  ‘Yes, so far. We’re storming heaven to keep him so.’ She took an envelope from the sideboard drawer and drew a small snapshot from it. ‘This was taken on his first leave.’ The photograph showed Agnes and Henry standing by a tree, with Henry holding a fat baby with curly hair and a wide smile showing two teeth.

  ‘That’s our little boy,’ Agnes said proudly. ‘Isn’t he like his father? He has fair hair and blue eyes too.’

  ‘He’s lovely,’ Kate said, but she was looking at Henry as well as the baby.

  ‘I’m sorry he’s out. In the park with my mother-in-law,’ Agnes said. ‘He was only eighteen months old there, but now he’s quite the little man. He’ll be four in June. Le
t me take your coat, Kate, and tell me about everybody.’

  Kate reluctantly laid down the snapshot and Agnes put her coat on a chair.

  ‘How is everybody at the guesthouse?’ she asked when they were settled again and Kate told her sadly about Mrs Molesworth. Agnes looked puzzled. ‘Mrs Molesworth?’ she said.

  ‘She did the rough work,’ Kate explained, ‘and much more, although her leg had been bad for years. Her husband died, then her son was lost at sea, and I think she lost heart.’

  ‘How sad,’ said Agnes. ‘But what about Mrs Bradley? Is she well?’

  ‘No. Her mind failed,’ Kate said. ‘She got – er senile. She thought that other guests were stealing from her and often she didn’t know us. She used to order me out of the house.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ Agnes cried, looking far more upset than by the news of Mrs Molesworth. ‘I feel so guilty. She came here once or twice and we intended to keep in touch, but the baby and the war – What has happened to her?’

  ‘She’s in a nursing home,’ Kate said. ‘I believe she is happy enough living in her own world, but visits would upset her,’ and she thought that Agnes seemed relieved.

  ‘And how is life treating you, Kate? I hope you are still reading?’ Kate assured her that she was. ‘I went so often to the Carnegie Library that I made friends with the librarian,’ she said. ‘But that was before the war. Nell’s been in London for years, nursing in a big hospital, but we still write to each other and discuss books.’

  ‘Excellent,’ said Agnes. She rose. ‘Excuse me, I’ll just speak to the maid. No use ringing. She never answers.’

  As she went into the hall, Kate heard Mrs Tate say stridently, ‘Who is that person, Agnes?’ The door was hastily closed, but Kate sat still with shock, a burning flush on her face. That person! So Agnes’s mother was not deceived. She knew Kate was not of their class. What am I doing here? Kate thought, suddenly angry with herself. She looked at the framed photograph of Henry and felt ashamed. I’m pretending to visit his wife just to find out about him.

  She jumped to her feet and picked up her coat, and when Agnes returned she was standing buttoning her glove. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realise the time, Mrs Barnes,’ she said. ‘I must go.’

  Agnes seemed ill at ease and avoided her eyes. ‘Must you, Kate?’ she said. ‘I’ve just ordered tea.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Kate repeated with quiet dignity. ‘I must go. My aunt is not very well.’

  ‘Oh dear, I’m so sorry to hear that,’ Agnes said. ‘Thank you for coming to tell me about Mrs Bradley. What a pity you can’t wait to see Charles, but perhaps another time.’ She looked down at the table and impulsively picked up the snapshot of the family group. ‘Perhaps you would like to keep this, Kate? Show it to your aunt. I have several copies.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Kate said quietly, moving towards the hall.

  As Agnes opened the front door she said, ‘Pray for us, Kate. Henry has survived so much, he seems to live a charmed life, but I’m so afraid. I never stop praying for him.’

  ‘I’ll pray too,’ Kate promised. ‘For all of you.’ She smiled. ‘I’m sure he’ll be all right.’

  As she walked away from the house her smile quickly faded and she felt again the sense of deep humiliation. I feel so ashamed, she thought. I hope Agnes didn’t realise why I was really there, and she was so kind. In her agitation she walked so rapidly that she was nearly home before she looked again at the snapshot of the family group. Common sense told her that Agnes had given it to her because she was embarrassed by her mother’s remark and proud of her baby son, but Kate lay awake for a long time that night worrying that Agnes had suspected that Kate was in love with her husband.

  She thought she was too ashamed to tell anyone – even Josie – about the visit, but the urge to confide and to show the snapshot to someone proved too strong, and she went to see Josie.

  ‘You worry too much,’ Josie said robustly. ‘Sounds as if she was just glad to see you and talk about the old days, and to boast about her son. She said herself she thought you’d come to tell her about Mrs Bradley. And I wouldn’t worry about the old one either. She’s a right old cow, according to Hetty.’

  Kate laughed. ‘Oh Josie, you’re a case,’ she said. ‘But I shouldn’t have gone there as Agnes’s friend. She taught me to read and write, and took me to lectures and other things with her, but that was just to improve my mind.’

  ‘And to get well in with Mr Barnes,’ Josie said shrewdly. ‘He truly never bothered about class. Everyone was the same to him, but she never really believed in it.’

  ‘She believed in votes for women and everybody being equal,’ Kate protested, but Josie looked sceptical.

  ‘It makes me laugh,’ she said. ‘Everybody looking down on somebody. People posher than Mrs Barnes looking down on her, and her looking down on the likes of us. She did, Kate, although she went along with whatever Mr Barnes believed in. No wonder, though, with that snobbish old mare for a mother.’

  Kate started to laugh. ‘If they could only hear us,’ she chuckled, ‘they wouldn’t believe it,’ but Josie only said, ‘It’d do them good.’

  ‘Nell used to say, “When Adam delved and Eve span, who was then the gentleman?” and we’re all descended from them. But we’re all as bad, Josie. You know we can’t get women for the rough now, not reliable ones, but Lottie doesn’t like scrubbing the front steps. She thinks it’s beneath her. And I’m as bad. I do them rather than ask Lottie, but I wear a rusty old skirt of Aunt Mildred’s and a mob cap so nobody’ll recognise me.’

  They laughed about it, and Kate felt better. As time passed she rarely thought about the visit to Rufford Road, although she looked often at the snapshot of the family. Life was much easier for her now, although she sometimes felt that at the guesthouse they were all small entities revolving in their own spheres, with none of the unity there had been in the past. Fuel was scarce and fires were rarely lit in the dining room or the drawing room. There were no sociable evenings, with coffee served to the guests after dinner.

  A fire was necessary in the kitchen for cooking, and in Mildred’s room and the Misses Barry’s sitting room, where their meals were served. The two men ate in the kitchen, but Mr Culshaw spoke little and usually went out immediately after his meal. Mr Trent never mentioned his work or the war news, but he was very interested in all that had happened in the guesthouse.

  Mr Dyson kept the guesthouse supplied with meat and with vegetables from his allotment, and was repaid with gratitude from Kate but more importantly from his nieces, to whom Kate often sang his praises.

  Mildred was still involved with the Mission, but the bad weather meant that she spent most of her time in her room, dosing herself from her numerous bottles of medicine, and taking no interest in the running of the guesthouse.

  On one of her now rare visits to Greenfields, Kate told Rose that Mildred was now as preoccupied with her health as Beattie. ‘They’re true sisters,’ she laughed. ‘Mildred’s recovered from the stroke except for her leg dragging a bit, but if there’s anything she doesn’t want to do or hear she collapses and takes to her bed.’

  ‘Like Beattie,’ Rose agreed. ‘They’re alike in that. They look a most unlikely pair, but blood will out.’ Rose herself seemed unchanged by the war, as flippant and light-hearted as ever, but there was a brittle quality to her gaiety that worried Kate.

  ‘You know so many men who are at the Front or in the Navy, Rose, you must be worried,’ she said gently, but Rose replied lightly, ‘No, I don’t think about it. “What’s the use of worrying, it never was worthwhile”, as the song says. Should we go back to Beattie?’

  Beattie was lying on the sofa with a small table beside her crowded with smelling salts, medicine bottles, pills and an open box of chocolates. She took Kate’s hand. ‘How do you think my darling looks?’ she said. ‘Doesn’t she grow more beautiful every day?’

  Rose made a gesture of impatience and rang for tea, and Kate only said cautiously, ‘Yes, Au
nt.’

  ‘All those young men madly in love with her,’ Beattie said. ‘She says she can’t choose but I know what it is. She won’t leave her old aunt. I’m not long for this world, Kate. I only hope Mildred won’t regret being so unkind to me when it’s too late.’

  She spoke in a low voice, still holding Kate’s hand, but Kate was uncomfortably aware that though Rose had moved away, she could still hear her aunt. She was uncertain what she should say. If she failed to sympathise she would seem unkind, and if she did Rose would consider her a hypocrite. She left as soon as possible.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Josie was now working in the greengrocer’s, and in the dark days at the beginning of 1918 she often came to see Kate and Lottie after the shop closed. One foggy night, she came straight from work, as Kate had been given some liver by Mr Dyson and had invited Josie to share their meal.

  ‘I’m glad to come here for a bit of cheerful company,’ she told them. ‘Everybody who comes in the shop is so miserable about the war dragging on, and the food and coal and everything scarce.’

  ‘We can’t do nothing about the war, so it’s no use worrying,’ Lottie said, and Kate added, ‘But we’re very lucky, Lottie, with the meat and vegetables from Mr Dyson and now the stuff from Mr Trent.’ She turned to Josie and explained, ‘The new man. He’s got no food tickets but he brings things for us. A pound of tea and a big bag of sugar last week, and some dried raisins and two lemons the week before.’

  ‘Where does he get them?’ gasped Josie.

  ‘I didn’t ask,’ Kate said. She went to the dresser drawer and took out a small parcel. ‘I put some tea and sugar away for you,’ she said.

  After Josie had thanked her, she sniffed the savoury aroma of liver and onions and drew closer to the bright fire. ‘Everything’s worked out for you then, Kate, after all,’ she said.

  ‘Yes, it’s all so different, but much better. Everything seems easier,’ said Kate, and Lottie said eagerly, ‘The two new ladies are lovely, Josie, and so is Mr Trent. Mr Culshaw’s never been no trouble, and him and Mr Trent don’t mind eating down here with us.’