When Day is Done

  ‘Perhaps to spare your mother,’ Margaret suggested.

  ‘You know, Meg, I’ve been interested in Kate ever since I read my father’s diary,’ said Charles. ‘But this has made me even more keen to find out more about her.’

  ‘Why don’t you take a trip to Liverpool after harvest,’ Margaret suggested. ‘Take Kit with you. She could have a look at Liverpool University – the outside anyway,’ she laughed.

  Their three children had attended the village school at first, then Kit had gone as a weekly boarder to a girls’ college near the coast. Charles had no great interest in his old public school, and when both boys clamoured to be weekly boarders like Kit, the same arrangement was made for them in a boys’ college.

  They were all happy at school, and Kit was the star pupil at her college. When she was old enough, her parents agreed with her headmistress that she should try for university, and she told them that she would like to apply to Liverpool to read history.

  ‘I suppose because you were born there,’ she said to her father, ‘I’ve always had a special feeling for Liverpool.’

  Kit worked hard and to her delight was accepted at Liverpool. Her father had promised that he would take her to explore the city before she started at the university, and on a sunny day they set off together.

  Charles wanted to learn more about his father’s family, but he knew that Kit’s main interest was in tracing her namesake, and he decided that this was Kit’s day and she must decide what they did. He was interested in Kate too, chiefly because his father had cared for her.

  They drove first to the university so that Kit could show her father the building with its corner turret and clock tower and peer into the courtyard so that he could picture her there. They drove past the two cathedrals, the Roman Catholic cathedral first, then along Hope Street to see the Anglican one. Men were working on both cathedrals, and Charles and Kit were impressed with the buildings but anxious not to be distracted from their plan of visiting the places mentioned in Henry’s diary.

  They looked in vain for the shop where Henry had worked, but like so much else it had disappeared in the Blitz. After finding a café for lunch they drove up past St George’s Hall, where Henry had helped with Christmas dinners for destitute children, and the Empire Theatre where he and Agnes had attended shows. They went on up the steeply rising streets to Everton Road.

  They were appalled by the large tracts of wasteground they passed where houses had once stood. ‘I knew how heavily Liverpool was bombed,’ Charles said. ‘But somehow this makes it real. I didn’t realise. The guesthouse may be gone, Kit.’

  To his relief it still stood, although it had evidently suffered damage and been patched up. There were odd-coloured slates scattered about the roof, and the house looked dirty and neglected.

  The woman who answered Charles’s knock looked blank when he asked about Mrs Williams. ‘I don’t think there’s no one of that name here now,’ she said. ‘Although they’re in and outa these rooms like fleas.’

  ‘It was a long time ago,’ Charles said. ‘About 1918. I’m trying to trace the family.’

  ‘Oh Jeez, lad, 1918!’ she said. ‘You’ve got some hope. A lot got killed in the Blitz and people flitted – got rehoused, like, by the Corpy.’

  Charles thanked her and decided to try a small general shop next. The woman behind the counter was anxious to be helpful. ‘You’d need to speak to old people really, wouldn’t you?’ she said. ‘My father-in-law might have known them. He’s lived round here all his life but he’s out with his pensioners’ club today. They have a good time these days, the old people, don’t they, and why shouldn’t they? Have you come far?’

  ‘From Shropshire,’ Kit said, smiling at the woman, who lifted the flap of the counter.

  ‘Shropshire! That’s a long way. Come through and have a cup of tea,’ she said.

  The next moment they found themselves sitting in a comfortable room behind the shop, and the shopkeeper took a shoebox full of photographs from a cupboard.

  ‘Look through them while I make a cup of tea,’ she said. ‘Grandad used to pick up photos that was blowing about after the bombing. Your friends might be there.’

  ‘He won’t mind?’ Charles asked, but she laughed. ‘Bless you, no. He loves showing them to people, hoping they’ll recognise someone on them. He put the address of the house that was nearest where he found them on the back and made a guess at some of the names. He picked most of them up out of the rubble in the mornings after the bombing.’

  They were fascinated by the photographs. There were none of Kate or Mrs Williams that they could see, but as Kit said, the guesthouse had not been bombed. As she plied them with tea and cake, the shopkeeper tried to remember other old people who might be able to help. ‘I’ll get Grandad to try to think,’ she said. ‘He’s got a marvellous memory for his age, and if he can’t remember anything about them he can ask the other old ones at the pensioners’. There’s bound to be someone who knows something.’

  ‘I’d be very grateful,’ Charles said. ‘There was a Mr Barnes and a Miss Tate living there who married later, and a Jack Rothwell.’

  The shopkeeper wrote down the names and promised to ask about them. ‘If you leave your name and address I’ll write to you,’ she said. ‘Or better still, love, when you’re at the university you can call here any time and talk to Grandad.’

  As they drove away, Kit sighed happily. ‘I’m going to enjoy being here,’ she said. ‘Wasn’t she nice?’

  ‘Don’t raise your hopes too much, love,’ Charles warned her. ‘It’s a long chance that we’ll find Kate after all these years.’

  ‘I know, but I want to try, Dad,’ said Kit.

  Charles smiled at her. ‘Proper little terrier when you get an idea, aren’t you?’ he teased her. ‘If she’s to be found I’m sure you’ll find her.’

  While Charles and Kit were trying to trace her, Kate was lying in a hospital bed only a few miles away. The shop where she worked was an old-fashioned one run by the proprietor, Mr Robson, and his wife, with Kate and a shopboy as staff. Kate worked from 8 a.m. to 6 p.m., weighing out sugar and pulses and dried fruit before and after shop hours, and filling shelves.

  In theory Mr Robson or the shopboy brought her the heavy sacks of sugar or wooden boxes of dried fruit, but they were often too busy and Kate had to do it herself. The shop was a busy one, and Kate worked hard serving customers and making up orders. She was quite happy with the situation, but she felt increasingly exhausted at the end of the day and even the walk home was more difficult.

  One night she left the shop after a particularly heavy day and had only walked a hundred yards when she collapsed with sharp pains in her chest. When she woke she was in a hospital bed, with Richard sitting beside her. He put his hand on hers. ‘Don’t try to talk, Aunt Kate,’ he said. ‘Just rest.’

  Within a few days she had improved so much that she was moved to a bed in a side ward. She was amazed and pleased at the number of people who visited her.

  Rose and Robert came with a huge basket of fruit, and Rose wept and told Kate that she herself had collapsed on hearing about her sister. ‘I’ve been in bed for two days,’ she said tearfully. ‘That’s why I haven’t been before this. I’m so worried about you.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Rose,’ Kate said. ‘I’m fine. The doctor says I should just take things easy and I’ll be all right.’

  ‘You must come and live with us, Kate,’ Rose said.

  Kate smiled at her. ‘There’s no need,’ she said. ‘You know it wouldn’t work, Rose. Our lifestyles are so different.’

  ‘Yes, but things are different now,’ said Rose. ‘I had a busy social life but now my health is so poor I hardly ever go out. You’d be company for me.’

  Kate wavered, but Richard, who was also there, winked at her. He knew how much Kate loved her flat and valued her independence, and he said firmly, ‘I think Aunt Kate should stay in her flat. She likes living there and she’s got lots of friends nearb
y. The doctor says she’ll be able to live a normal life, so you needn’t worry about her, Mother.’

  Rose’s impulse to ask Kate to live with them had originally arisen out of concern for her sister, and it was only as she spoke that Rose realised the advantages to herself, so she chose to accept Richard’s version.

  ‘You must do as you wish, Kate,’ she said. ‘I’m only concerned about you.’

  Kate felt a warm glow because her sister cared so much about her. ‘I’ll be fine,’ she said. ‘There’s a pension now when a woman is sixty and I’ve got savings from when I was working, as well as my nest egg.’ She smiled happily.

  Many other people came to see Kate, including Essy, escorted by Magdalen. Essy walked with a stick but otherwise seemed as spry as ever, and as hostile to Rose. ‘Don’t let that sister of yours talk you into living with her,’ she said. ‘As soon as you were on your feet you’d be a handrag for her.’

  ‘I wish you didn’t dislike Rose so much, Essy,’ Kate said. ‘She’s always been very good to me.’ She looked distressed, and Magdalen nudged Essy.

  ‘You don’t dislike Mrs Willis, do you?’ she said. ‘You’re just worried about Kate.’

  Essy glanced at her then said to Kate, ‘Magdalen’s right. My tongue runs away with me. I just worry about you, Kate, because you never do what’s best for yourself, only for other people, but you can’t help your nature. You take after my poor madam. She was too soft too, but she had me to look out for her.’

  Richard spoke to the young doctor who attended Kate, and he said that although Kate thought her age had caused her collapse it was actually heart failure. ‘She has a heart defect,’ he said, ‘but with the tablets I’ve prescribed, and care, she can have many more years of life. Her age doesn’t help, of course. Her generation has lived through difficult times. Two world wars and the Depression.’

  ‘She’s had a hard life,’ Richard agreed. ‘But she’s very independent.’

  ‘That indomitable spirit will help her now,’ the doctor said with a smile.

  Kate worried about letting the Robsons down, but her family and the doctor insisted on her retirement, and she was secretly very relieved to agree.

  Many customers and other people came to see Kate, including the Robsons, but Richard was her most regular visitor. There had always been a close bond between them, and they felt that they could speak freely to each other on any subject.

  Kate was nearly ready to go home when she told him how she worried about the Robsons. ‘They were so good to me and they brought me that lovely plant,’ she said. ‘I feel I’ve let them down, Richard. You know I’m nearly sixty, when I should retire, but Mr Robson had asked me to stay on.’

  ‘Aunt Kate, they exploited you!’ Richard exclaimed. ‘D’you know, they’ve taken on two people to do the work you did. I just wish I’d known about it. And you’re worrying about them!’

  ‘I loved the job,’ Kate protested. ‘But I must admit I’ll be glad to retire. I’ll enjoy staying in bed in the mornings, especially when winter comes,’ she laughed.

  Richard smiled too. ‘And don’t think of giving up your flat to stay with Mother. She has visitors, and Dad’s there all the time now, so she’s not lonely. Turn over a new leaf when you leave here and do what you want to do.’

  ‘You sound like Essy,’ Kate said with a smile. ‘She thinks single women should always be looking out for the main chance for themselves.’

  ‘How is old Essy?’ Richard said. ‘I must go and see her. I mean to but the time just goes.’

  ‘She’s fine,’ said Kate. ‘Magdalen, the girl who looks after her, brought her. Essy’s very shrewd, you know. She’s worked out a scheme for keeping Magdalen with her, but I don’t think it’s just the money with Magdalen. I think she’s really fond of Essy.’

  ‘Magdalen? I think that’s the name of John’s latest girl, although she calls herself Magda,’ said Richard.

  ‘The nurses are still talking about the basket of flowers he sent me. The nurse who brought it in could hardly carry it. She said, “He must be very rich.” I think she wants an introduction,’ Kate said, laughing.

  ‘He’s making money hand over fist,’ Richard said. ‘Who’d ever have thought he’d be “something in the City”, but he’s got a real flair for it.’

  Kate thought he looked despondent at the contrast between his brother’s life and his own, and she said gently, ‘John’s been free to do as he likes because you’ve held the fort here, Rich. You saved your dad’s life by taking over when you did. The worry was killing him.’

  ‘I don’t envy John. I was glad to take over, Aunt Kate,’ Richard said. ‘I’m not ambitious and I like the work and being in Liverpool.’ He hesitated, then burst out, ‘It’s getting me down living at home, though. Sometimes I feel I can’t stand much more of it. You know I love Mum, but she irritates me so much. Every day there’s a fresh complaint, yet I know that basically she’s a perfectly healthy woman.’

  ‘She hasn’t got much to do, Rich, and that’s why she broods about her health,’ said Kate. ‘She really does feel these twinges and indigestion pains.’

  ‘It doesn’t bother Dad. Mum moans and he ladles out sympathy and it suits both of them, but it drives me mad. You know how it is. Once a thing starts to irritate you, you never seem to get away from it. It’s giving me indigestion trying to eat my meal while I’m fuming about the moans. The trouble is, most fellows of my age are married by now and in their own homes.’

  Kate agreed, and he went on, ‘Mum goes on about that too – the marriage bit. I was too mad busy right after the war for any socialising, and now that things are easier I seem to have missed the boat. While I had my head down all the girls I might have married have paired off with other fellows.’ He laughed ruefully.

  ‘Still plenty of time,’ Kate said easily. ‘I’m sure there’s a nice girl for you somewhere. You just haven’t met her yet.’

  ‘I thought I might get a place of my own anyway,’ Richard said. ‘But Mum nearly blew up when I suggested it. Thought it was a reflection on her housekeeping or something.’

  ‘Well, when we were young and there were big families, some of them married, but the other brothers and sisters still lived at home, usually until they died. It seemed to work,’ said Kate. ‘They all had their own interests, choral societies and that sort of thing.’

  ‘Yes, but times are different now,’ said Richard. ‘I think I’ll have to do something. It’s not just Mum. Dad’s still interested in the business, although he hardly ever comes in now, so of course he wants to talk about it when I get home. I’ve had to make a lot of changes to move with the times, and by the time I’ve explained them I feel like climbing the walls. I just want to forget work when I get home.’

  He began to laugh. ‘Sorry, Aunt Kate,’ he said. ‘I’m a fine one to talk about moaners. You’re just too good a listener.’

  ‘You’ll feel better now you’ve got it off your chest,’ Kate said. ‘And I think you’re right. You should find your own place.’

  There was the noise of a trolley and a nurse opened the door. ‘Are you still here?’ she exclaimed. ‘Visiting hours finished ages ago. You’ll get me shot.’

  Richard jumped to his feet and apologised, then kissed Kate. ‘Sorry about the moans. Hope I haven’t caused a relapse,’ he whispered.

  A few days later Kate was discharged from hospital and Robert came to drive her home. He had arranged for the flat to be cleaned and the fire lit so the place was warm and welcoming, with flowers from Rose and a hamper of food. ‘Rose wanted to be here to welcome you,’ Robert explained, ‘but she has a cold and doesn’t want to pass it on to you.’

  ‘She’s very thoughtful and so are you, Robert,’ Kate said. ‘I’m very lucky.’

  Robert stayed and had a meal with her, then told her gently that the elderly man from the upstairs flat had died while she was away.

  ‘Oh dear, his wife’ll miss him. They were so devoted, never apart. I think they have one d
aughter who’s a war widow.’

  Shortly after Robert left, the daughter of the couple upstairs came to see Kate. ‘I was sorry to hear you’d been ill, Miss Drew,’ she said. ‘You heard about my father?’

  ‘Yes, I was so sorry,’ Kate said. ‘Your mother’ll miss him. They were always together.’

  ‘Yes. Her gaoler,’ the girl said with venom. ‘He was obsessively jealous, you know. Wouldn’t leave even me alone with her, and when my husband was alive he couldn’t come to the flat with me. It made me so bitter when Geoff was killed. A good man like him, and my horrible old father left. Anyway, thank God he’s gone first so I can make it up to Mum.’

  ‘You’ll be able to comfort each other,’ Kate murmured, feeling out of her depth.

  ‘I’m going to take her to live with me in Chester,’ the girl said. ‘I’ll make sure she enjoys the time she’s got left now he’s gone. I’m just telling you because we’ll be giving the landlord notice next week. I hope you get someone nice upstairs and keep better yourself.’

  ‘I was flabbergasted,’ Kate told Richard later. ‘I thought they were so devoted. She was a timid little woman, mind you. The daughter seems a nice girl. She said she hoped I got someone nice upstairs.’ They suddenly stared at each other, the thought striking both of them at the same instant.

  ‘Are you thinking what I am?’ Richard said. ‘How would you feel about me taking the flat?’

  ‘I’d be delighted,’ Kate said truthfully. ‘But what about your mum and dad? I wouldn’t want to upset them.’

  ‘I’m sure they’ll see the sense of it,’ Richard said. ‘I’ll be careful how I put it to them, but I’m quite determined.’

  Kate found it difficult to sleep that night. I’d love to have Richard living upstairs, she thought. I’m so fond of him and I’d feel safe if he was near. Although she never admitted it, the collapse had shaken her confidence in herself. But what if Rose objected? I’d hate to cause trouble between her and Richard.