When Day is Done

by When Day is Done (retail) (epub

  She tossed and turned, then diverted her thoughts to her usual resource, her happy memories of Henry. Since the war, when she’d realised that his son was old enough to fight, her dreams had been given another dimension. She often thought about the boy and wondered whether he was as good a man as his father had been. She was smiling as she drifted off to sleep.

  Robert welcomed the idea of Richard taking the upstairs flat and told Rose that now she could stop worrying about Kate, so she agreed too. It was quickly arranged, and Richard moved in two weeks later. Kate’s old friend Nell, who had also retired but continued to live near nursing friends in London, was visiting, and she advised Kate to continue to treat the flats as separate establishments.

  ‘I intend to,’ Kate said. ‘Otherwise Rich would be jumping out of the frying pan into the fire if he had me round his neck.’

  Nell laughed. ‘I might have known you didn’t need advice,’ she said. ‘I used to wish you’d done more with your life, Kate. I’ve been so fulfilled with my nursing, but you always seemed to draw the short straw. Still, you’ve got through in spite of everything.’

  Kate’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘I’ve been very lucky, Nell,’ she said. ‘I’ve always met such nice people and they’ve been very good to me, especially Rose and her family.’

  Nell hugged her impulsively. ‘You’re like the sundial, love,’ she said. ‘You only mark the sunny hours.’ They both laughed and returned to discussing their outfits for the sixtieth birthday party Rose and Robert were giving for Kate.

  John returned for Kate’s party with his fiancée, Magda, a slim, dark girl with a bell of shining dark hair and crimson lips and nails. She was a model, and both Kate and Nell liked her. Nell said that she had talked to Magda about her nursing. ‘We talked about the district where I did my midwifery and she told me she was born there. Don’t worry. If she’s come up from those hovels to this she won’t have any trouble turning “Johnny Head in the Air” to “Johnny Feet on the Ground”,’ she said.

  The party was a great success. Kate was enjoying this phase of her life. She liked being able to stay in bed as long as she wished, then getting up to potter about her flat and visit or be visited by friends.

  A pattern was established with Richard. He and Kate led separate lives although they often had their evening meal together and saw each other briefly every day. In spite of the difference in their ages they were good friends, with a shared sense of humour and the same taste in books and music. They enjoyed long discussions after a meal together, while Kate knitted and Richard relaxed with a cigarette.

  Richard felt that he could talk to Kate as to no one else and she would understand. One night they discussed the war years, and Richard said thoughtfully, ‘You know, when the war started I thought it was just an interruption and I’d soon be able to get on with my usual life. I had all sorts of plans, but I thought I was just postponing them. I was nineteen when it started and twenty-five when it finished, and I suddenly realised that the years had gone without me noticing.’

  Kate nodded. ‘I suppose you had too much else to think about while you were flying,’ she said.

  He smiled ruefully. ‘Yes, but in the back of my mind there was a feeling that when we got this lot over I’d do all the things I’d planned, like hiking round Europe. I didn’t realise that when it was over I’d be a different fellow at a different stage in my life, and the world would be different too.’

  ‘And of course you had a few extra years when you weren’t free, with having to sort out your father’s business after the war,’ said Kate.

  Richard laughed. ‘I’m not complaining,’ he said. ‘I enjoyed doing it, though it was hectic at times, but I was lucky to have it to come back to. I must sound cracked. As though I thought I was like Peter Pan and I’d go back to being nineteen when the war ended.’

  ‘No, I understand,’ Kate said. ‘I know the feeling. I felt as though I’d hardly got used to being grown up and suddenly I was old. I didn’t notice it happening.’

  ‘Never! You’ll never be old, Kate. Your mind’s too lively for that.’

  ‘I don’t feel old,’ Kate admitted. ‘But then I don’t think anyone does. You feel differently inside to the way you look on the outside. It takes some getting used to,’ she added ruefully, and they laughed together.

  Although each had their own friends they enjoyed the time they spent together and unobtrusively each made life easier for the other. It was a relief to all who cared for Kate to know that Richard was near if she needed him.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Although Kit was determined to trace Kate, she had little time to spare during her first year at university. Her first term began on 6 October and on the previous day her father drove her to Liverpool to register at the university. Afterwards he took her to the female Hall of Residence in Holly Road, Fairfield, where she was to live, sharing a room with two other students.

  Kit had been nervous about meeting the Warden, Miss Knight, because of the impressive letters after her name, but she proved to be kind and welcoming. They also met Kit’s two roommates, Alytwyn, a Welsh girl from Anglesey, a self-confident, extrovert type, and Helen from Manchester, who was as quiet as Kit.

  ‘I’m sure you’ll be happy there, Kit,’ Charlie said as they came away. ‘You must go to Miss Knight if you have any problems that we can’t solve, but keep closely in touch with home, won’t you, love? We’re all going to miss you, especially Mum.’

  Kit looked tearful, as though realising her position for the first time, and Charlie hastily suggested a drive past his old home.

  ‘It’s not far from here,’ he said. ‘This is Kensington we’re turning into, and Prescot Road is a continuation of it. Rufford Road, where we lived, is off Prescot Road. Only a short walk, really, from where you’ll be living.’

  Kit was fascinated by the house in Rufford Road as they drove slowly past it and parked further up the road. They walked back past the house, then up again on the other side of the road. It was a large semi-detached Victorian villa with a big garden, but Charles said it seemed much smaller than he remembered, especially the garden.

  ‘I was just thinking what a lovely solid house and big garden,’ Kit exclaimed.

  Charles laughed. ‘I agree, but the garden seemed enormous to me. I was only four when we left.’

  ‘Don’t you remember your father at all?’ Kit said.

  ‘Just fleeting memories. I remember him throwing me up in the air and pushing me on a swing, and I remember riding on his shoulders with my arms round his head. He had tight golden curls,’ he said. ‘He bought me a rocking horse. I remember that day. I wonder what happened to Dobbin?’

  ‘Your father would have been in the Army for most of your childhood, I suppose,’ said Kit.

  ‘Yes. I only remember him in uniform,’ Charlie agreed. ‘D’you know, I remember an argument about that. He wanted to wear civilian clothes and Mother and Grandma Tate said he should wear uniform. I remember Grandma Tate saying something about white feathers.’

  ‘That someone might give him one, you mean?’ said Kit. ‘That did happen to men in civilian clothes. I’ve read about it.’

  They were standing across the road under a tree, looking at the house, and Charles said slowly, ‘It’s amazing. I thought I remembered nothing about that time, but all sorts of things are coming back to me. Some I might really remember happening, or Grandma Barnes might have told me about them.’

  ‘Grandma Barnes? Your father’s mother?’ asked Kit.

  ‘Yes, and I loved her. She took me out every day and put me to bed, and we had all sorts of little secrets from the other two.’ He laughed, then his smile faded. They were walking back to the car now, and he said, ‘I’ve just realised. I remember the day the telegram came about my father. I wasn’t aware of it then, of course.’

  ‘You wouldn’t be at that age, would you? And I suppose they kept the news from you,’ said Kit, but Charlie said slowly, ‘I remember it was such a happy
day. Grandma had bought me a little sailing boat and we sailed it on the pond in Newsham Park. She hid it in her shopping bag and when we got back Mother and Grandma Tate were standing in the hall.’ He stood leaning on the car, obviously reliving the memory, and Kit watched him sympathetically but said nothing.

  ‘I thought they’d found out about the boat. Grandma Tate grabbed me and hustled me into the dining room, and Mother took Grandma Barnes into the drawing room. I heard her cry out and I tried to go to her but Grandma Tate held on to me. I thought my mother was being cruel to Grandma because of the boat. I got away and ran to Grandma and she was crying. She put her arms round me and I clung to her and shouted at my mother that I’d asked Grandma for the boat.’

  ‘Was your mother very upset?’ asked Kit.

  ‘No, she knew I didn’t understand what had happened. With hindsight I can see that her life must have been difficult, with both my grandmothers living there.’

  ‘It can’t have been easy for your father when he came home on leave either,’ said Kit.

  ‘No,’ Charles agreed. ‘I remember him always laughing and cheerful, but perhaps that was just for my benefit. He had a sort of warmth about him like Grandma Barnes, but Grandmother Tate was a horror. Very strict and sour, and Mother was very reserved. She said to me once, years later, that she had always loved me but her mother thought any display of emotion was vulgar, and she was a very dominant woman. I detested my Grandma Tate.’

  ‘I didn’t detest my grandma, your mother, although I was a bit afraid of her,’ said Kit. ‘I always felt that she loved us really, although she never showed it.’

  ‘Mother said that when Grandma Barnes died, shortly after my father, I pushed Mother away when she tried to comfort me and screamed for Grandma. She said she cried all night, the tears she hadn’t shed when Dad was killed as well as because I had hurt her. I don’t remember it at all.’

  Charles smiled at Kit. ‘That’s enough of old unhappy far-off things,’ he said. ‘Let’s get something to eat and talk about something more cheerful.’

  Kit laughed. ‘Like tracking down Kate,’ she said. ‘I’m determined to find her if she’s still alive, Dad.’

  ‘Yes, but don’t neglect your studies to do it, love,’ Charlie said. ‘This is a wonderful chance for you, Kit. Don’t waste it.’

  They would have been amazed to know that Kate was sitting in her flat in Lilley Road, only a five-minutes walk away from the Hall of Residence in Holly Road.

  Kit settled happily into life at the university, in spite of a few bouts of homesickness. She enjoyed the subject she was studying, medieval and modern history, and found her spare time was fully occupied. The three roommates joined the Students’ Union and were caught up in all the activities.

  Alytwyn, always known as Alyt, was the group comedian and entertained them with her father’s reaction to her request for the necessary five guineas to join the Union. ‘“Iss there no end to it?”’ she wailed. ‘“Five guineas! Squeezing me dry you are. I neffer thought daughters could be so expensive.”’ Although Kit laughed, she appreciated the difference in her own father’s attitude.

  Alyt loved music and swept Kit and Helen off to concerts at the Philharmonic Hall and various Liverpool churches. She was more worldly-wise than the other two girls, with a reckless, happy-go-lucky attitude to life, and they learned a lot from her. Kit also learned that people were often more complex than they seemed, when they attended a performance of the Messiah at the Welsh chapel where Alyt worshipped, and she saw tears pouring down Alyt’s face as she listened to the music.

  With all these new experiences and activities, the search for Kate was postponed, although Kit was still determined to find her. She had written to the shopkeeper, Mrs Hayes, but had not found time to visit her.

  It was not until just before the long vacation at the end of Kit’s first year at the university that she was able to resume the search for Kate. Meanwhile Charles, who had visited Liverpool several times – once with Margaret to take Kit out for a meal, and other times alone – had succeeded in tracing his father’s family. He found that his father had had a brother, Robert, who had been killed in 1915, and a sister, Lucy, who had died in May 1914 in Cheshire.

  He also traced his father’s father, Luke Barnes, who had been a grain merchant in Liverpool until his death at the age of forty-eight years, and was delighted to find that Luke had been the second son of a farmer in Lancashire. ‘So that’s where I got my love of farming, from my great-grandfather,’ Charlie told Margaret exultantly when he returned home.

  ‘I wonder why Luke didn’t farm?’ Margaret said.

  ‘He was the second son. I suppose the eldest got the farm,’ said Charles. ‘It’s fascinating, you know, Meg. My own flesh and blood. They seem quite real to me now.’

  Margaret smiled at him. ‘I wish Kit could find out about Kate, Charlie,’ she said. ‘She’s really set her heart on it.’

  ‘She will,’ Charles said confidently. ‘But there’s too much to distract her at present. Finding her feet, making friends and doing new things, as well as the work. I tell you what, I can see now why she’s so fascinated by history and why she enjoys it so much.’

  ‘Yes, she made the right choice,’ Margaret said. ‘She seems really happy, doesn’t she?’ and Charles agreed.

  Although Kit had not found time to pursue her search for Kate, she often thought about her and wondered whether the shopkeeper had learned anything from her father-in-law, or whether she had forgotten all about them. On the day before she returned home for the long summer vacation Kit impulsively set off to visit Mrs Hayes.

  She was warmly welcomed and introduced to Grandad, a fat, rosy-cheeked old man. Mrs Hayes told Kit that she had meant to write to her at the university. ‘I didn’t know how to address the envelope, though, and I didn’t want to make a show of myself or disgrace you,’ she explained. ‘Grandad’s found this old feller. He used to fill coal buckets at the boarding house and he remembers Mrs Williams and Kate.’

  ‘Does he?’ Kit exclaimed excitedly. ‘Can I talk to him?’

  Grandad took his pipe from his mouth and shook his head, and Mrs Hayes asked if Kit could come back the next day. ‘He’ll be out now but I could ask him to come here tomorrow. He’s only in one room, y’see, and he might feel a bit ashamed, like, if you went there.’

  ‘That’d be better still,’ Kit said. ‘My dad is arriving to drive me home tomorrow, so he could come with me, if you don’t mind.’ It was quickly arranged and Kit telephoned her father that night to tell him.

  When Charles arrived he had two boxes in the car. ‘One for Mrs Hayes and one for the old man in one room,’ he said. ‘Just some butter and eggs and ham.’

  ‘I’m glad you’re coming with me, Dad,’ Kit exclaimed. ‘I’d never have thought of that.’

  ‘It was Mum’s idea,’ Charlie admitted. ‘Just a thank-you.’

  The gifts were gratefully received by Mrs Hayes, and by the old man, who was introduced as Jackie. ‘No use knowing a farmer if you can’t get a bit extra,’ Charlie said to them with a wink. The old man sitting with Grandad was as small and shrunken as Grandad was fat and rosy, but he could tell them a great deal about the boarding house.

  ‘Guesthouse she liked it called. Proper snob she was, Mrs Williams, and tight! As tight as—’ A violent nudge from Grandad nearly knocked him off his seat, and he finished, ‘as a – a drum. Kate was nice, though. She often give me a cup of cocoa or a dripping buttie when the old one was outa the way.’

  ‘Do you remember a Miss Tate or a Mr Barnes who lived there?’ Charles asked. ‘They were married from the guesthouse.’

  ‘No, not really. I only filled the coal buckets. There was another girl, Josie. She was nice too. I got told she married some Irish feller and went to live over there.’

  ‘Do you know what happened to Kate Drew?’ Kit said eagerly.

  Jackie shook his head. ‘No. I went in the Army in 1914, see. Me ma told me Mrs Williams died up to her
eyes in debt, like, and everything got sold up. She had posh relations, though. Kate might of gone to them.’

  The old man had been staring at Charles. ‘This Mr Barnes—’ he began doubtfully, and Charles said quickly, ‘He was my father.’

  ‘I thought so. You’re the spitting image of him, lad. I seen him one day,’ said the old man. ‘I’d forgot, but looking at you brought it back, like.’

  ‘What do you remember of him?’ Charles asked eagerly, and Jackie said slowly, ‘Kate was giving me a buttie on the sly one day, and someone come down the kitchen stairs. I thought it was the missus and I was going to leg it, but she said, “It’s all right, Jackie. It’s Mr Barnes.” He was a lovely feller, a real gent but very easy, like, the way he talked to me. He never made me feel like dirt the way some posh people did. He give me sixpence. He was friendly, like, with Kate too. That’s the only time I seen him.’

  Mrs Hayes had been standing with her finger on her lips, thinking, and she said suddenly, ‘Winnie Collins. She told me when she was in the other day that her second cousin that got left a house and loads of money – the woman she worked for was Mrs Williams’s sister. I’ll go and get Winnie. She only lives in the next street.’

  She darted out, and while she was gone Charles took the opportunity to give each of the old men a five-pound note folded small. ‘Thanks for your help. Have a drink on us,’ he said. Grandad thanked him and pocketed it, but old Jackie unfolded the large white note and gaped at it. ‘A five-pun note,’ he said. ‘I never seen one of these before. Not to have it in me hand, like.’

  ‘Put it in your pocket, lad,’ advised Grandad. He winked at Charles. ‘We don’t have to let the wimmin know all our business.’ Mrs Hayes returned alone. ‘Winnie’d just taken her teeth out and put her slippers on so she wouldn’t come, but she gave me her cousin’s address. She’s still alive, she says, but very old, living in luxury.’

  She handed Charles an address written in shaky handwriting. ‘Her cousin’s name is Esther Mills. Miss. She never got married. She should know what happened to Kate Drew.’