The physician prepared to drive off. ‘I’ve no idea, but you’ve got money, haven’t you? Surely you could spare some of it for your daughter.’
Nat was deliberately obtuse. ‘But you told me that Bright wanted me to keep away from her, that she wouldn’t want my charity.’
‘I would agree with that, but it wouldn’t be charity, would it? You’d only be doing your duty, the duty you’ve neglected for so long.’ Annoyed at the other’s calm, Noel shifted the hand brake. ‘I don’t know why I thought you’d help. Move your cart out of the bloody way.’
‘Keep your shirt on!’ Nat did not budge, though his horse shied at the revving engine. ‘If I send money she’ll only send it back. I’ll have to think of some other way to help… anyway, I appreciate you letting me know. What’s the situation then? When are they likely to be thrown out?’
It was whilst Noel related what he knew that Oriel came out of the solicitor’s office lower down the street and glimpsed the doctor leaning over the side of his car. Normally she would have hailed Noel, especially with such exciting news to impart, but as she approached she saw that he was deep in conversation with another and, not wishing to interrupt, she simply smiled to herself and made to continue past. The man to whom Noel was chatting looked familiar – ah yes, she had seen him a number of times on the tram to and from Fulford where he was obviously a resident. As she drew level he gave her a casual glance, then looked startled and quickly withdrew his eyes. Noel appeared to be startled too, but soon recovered and issued a cheery wave as she proceeded on her way.
Nat dared not turn. His wary eyes held Noel’s. ‘Has she gone?’ When the other nodded he threw a furtive glance over his shoulder to watch his daughter retreat, his gaze never leaving her until she had turned the corner. He looked back at Noel and sighed. ‘She’s a bonny lass, isn’t she?’
The other nodded. ‘Are you going to help?’
‘Course I am.’ Nat arched his back. ‘Though I don’t know how. I’ll have to think about it over dinner – are you sure you won’t share it with me?’
Another vehicle turned into the road and would soon want to be past. Noel prepared to move off. ‘No, really, I have to go. I’ll call on you when I find out what’s happening with Bright. I’m going round this evening.’
‘What d’you need to go for when the old lass is dead?’
Noel was guarded. ‘I promised to look in on Bright, she was very worried.’
This seemed to satisfy Nat, who allowed his friend to drive away, accompanied by Talbot’s bark. As the other vehicle rumbled past, he sat for a moment, ruminating. Brooms in hand, two women stood gossiping nearby and Talbot’s howls distracted them. ‘Poor thing.’ One of them performed a token sweep of the pavement, eyeing the three-legged animal who was staggering amongst the entanglement of rags. ‘It shouldn’t be allowed to suffer like that. You should have it put out of its misery!’ The loud comment was for the dog’s owner.
Jerked from his thoughts, Nat turned an arrogant face on the speaker. ‘And should your husband have you put down just because you’re ugly?’ The recipient was about to explode, when something in her detractor’s face prevented it. ‘Cheek of it!’ Beckoning to her friend, she went inside and slammed the door.
‘Fancy saying a thing like that about poor old Talbot.’ Nat reached behind him and tugged at the dog’s pendulous ear. The adoring hound appeared to laugh and shook himself, his heavy jowls emitting a cascade of saliva. Nat reeled to avoid it. ‘You mucky bugger!’ He clicked the horse into motion. ‘Away, let’s go and have our dinner, we’ve got a lot of thinking to do this afternoon.’
* * *
Wading through his corned beef sandwiches, watched intently by his dog – Talbot had finished his own within seconds – Nat racked his brain for an answer to Bright’s problem. As the owner of property he could put a roof over her head almost immediately, but with Nat as her benefactor she would never accept. For the same reason he could not offer money. He finished one sandwich and bit into another, then formed a grimace at Talbot’s drooling gaze. ‘You’ve had yours! Go and lie down.’ Talbot hung his head and crept off to a corner, burying his nose beneath his tail. Nat took another bite, then stopped. ‘I know you’re still watching, I can see your eyebrows moving!’ At the jocular tone Talbot lifted his head in expectation. ‘Oh, here y’are!’ Nat threw the remaining sandwich at the dog, who caught it from the air and gulped it down whole. ‘Would you like to drink me tea an’ all?’ Nat proffered his cup, then emptied it himself. ‘I don’t know why I bother to feed you, you’re not much use, are you? If you had anything about you you’d offer to do those accounts for me. No, I didn’t think the appeal’d work,’ he accused, as Talbot curled up, stuck his nose under his tail and closed his eyes. ‘If you want owt doing, do it your—’ A bolt of inspiration stopped him in his tracks and he gasped. Talbot showed the white of one eye, then closed it again. What an idea! With one action he could provide Bright with a regular source of income – far more than she could hope to earn herself – but much more importantly he could bring his daughter into his house!
Wasting no time he reached for his hat and coat. Talbot flew from his basket and within half an hour they were at the door of the college where Oriel was a student.
‘Stay here,’ he told the dog, who began to bark, ‘and shut up! Shut up!’ He cuffed Talbot’s nose. ‘This is important.’ He left the subdued animal on the cart and went to find the person in charge.
‘Oriel Maguire?’ The headmaster of the college searched the air for a moment. ‘Ah yes, I know the young lady to whom you refer. I’m afraid, though, she is not in attendance today, I received a telephone call—’
Nat interrupted. ‘I know. It isn’t her I want to see.’
The man stared at the visitor, whose blunt manner was in contrast to his gentlemanly dress. ‘Then how may I help, Mr…?’ He remained gracious.
‘Price,’ Nat dropped a letter from his name. It would not do for Oriel to go home and tell her mother that she was working for him. ‘I’d like to employ her as my secretary.’
‘Well, that is quite simple, she is almost at the end of her course. Would it not be more appropriate to direct your request at her rather than myself?’
‘I’d prefer the young lady to think that you’ve selected her for the job,’ replied Nat. As the other frowned at the mystery, he continued, ‘Let me explain and then you’ll understand my reasons. The girl and her mother are in financial trouble…’
The man began to search his desk as if for explanation. ‘I was unaware…’
‘Just listen to what I have to say!’ Nat was becoming annoyed. ‘Oriel – Miss Maguire – and her mother have been living with an old lady who was responsible for their welfare. She’s just died and so they’ll soon find themselves homeless. By employing Miss Maguire I hope to provide them with an income, but I don’t want the gesture to be regarded as charity.’
The headmaster was intrigued. ‘Are you personally acquainted with Miss Maguire?’
‘No, we’ve never met. The sad affair was brought to my notice by a mutual friend. I promised to do what I could to help. As I do genuinely need a secretary I thought this would be the best way.’
The headmaster appeared to be satisfied. ‘I’m sure the young lady will fulfil your requirements. The moment she returns to college I will put your request to her.’
Nat thanked him and bade him good day, hardly daring to believe as he left the building that at last he was about to achieve the closeness with his daughter that he had always craved.
21
When Noel paid a visit to the house in Fulford Road that evening he was knocked sideways, not only by the excellent meal on offer but at the news of Miss Bytheway’s legacy. It had yet to be granted legal confirmation, Bright told him, but on the surface it appeared as if all her troubles were over. Neither he nor Oriel mentioned seeing each other earlier in the day; Oriel had merely forgotten and Noel did not want to raise the subject for obvio
us reasons. Out of respect for the deceased, supper was a quiet affair, but those involved enjoyed a new intimacy. Oriel thought she was being very subtle when she yawned and went off to bed, leaving an embarrassed mother alone with the doctor.
Bright felt that this required explanation. ‘I think my daughter realizes this’ll be the last time we’ll get to chat.’
‘Does it have to be?’ Noel relaxed at the opposite end of the red velvet sofa, enjoying a glass of Miss Bytheway’s port. He had as yet made no mention about going to see Oriel’s father and now that the danger of eviction was past he saw no need to call upon Nat again. ‘My services may no longer be required, but I hope that a friend can still call upon another.’
Bright appeared to be delighted. ‘You know that Oriel and I are always pleased to see you, Noel.’
‘Good! Then I shall call much more frequently.’ All sorts of plans were forming in his mind. However fond he was of Bright and wanted to put their relationship on a firmer footing, he had hitherto found it impossible to broach the subject with his mother. She would be too horrified. Now, the old lady’s bequest had changed everything.
Oriel stayed at home for a week in order to help her mother with the funeral arrangements and also out of respect for Miss Bytheway, whose interment was a pathetic affair with only a handful of acquaintances at the graveside. During this period Oriel’s financial situation was confirmed. Bright gasped when she found out just how much her daughter was worth, and almost cried when Oriel made the generous announcement that her mother could have anything in the world that she wished for.
‘Aw, that’s good of you – but I already have the thing I crave most. A little time for myself, time to relax in the bath…’ Time for a man, came the private sentiment. Why aren’t you out there doing something about it, then? You can’t use Nat as an excuse after all these years. Oh, but she could. She reflected again on what life would have been like had she not surrendered herself to Nat – probably just like her own mother’s, tired out just the same from looking after a large family.
Her daughter’s interjection prevented her thoughts from becoming too melancholy. ‘You must have some material need. Come on, indulge me, please.’
‘Oh, I’d love a—’ exclaimed Bright, then looked ashamed. ‘No that’d be too greedy.’
‘No it wouldn’t! Come on, tell me,’ urged Oriel.
Bright hesitated. If there was one thing she had always detested in this house it was the silence. ‘Well, I’d love a gramophone – if ye don’t think I’m taking too much advantage of your generosity.’
Oriel moaned. ‘Mother, don’t keep making it sound as if the money’s all mine.’
‘It was left to you.’ Bright did not intend to be churlish, merely tendered what she saw as blunt fact.
‘And I’ve chosen to share it with you! Once the bank account’s sorted out you can draw money from it any time you want. And until then Miss B left enough cash in the house to cover our needs, so today – oh no, it’s Sunday – tomorrow you can go out and buy yourself a gramophone and plenty of music to play on it. Oh, don’t!’ Her mother was crying.
‘You’re lovely to me!’ wept Bright.
How could Oriel prevent tears of her own? ‘No, I’m not! It’s you who’s lovely. You deserve nice things after all the sacrifices you made when you were young – for my sake. I’ve never said…’ She broke down, then managed to get her words out. ‘Thank you for all you’ve done. Oh, God!’ She laughed and cried at the same time. ‘Aren’t I just terrible?’ She blew her nose. ‘I could never be on the music hall performing all those mournful ballads, I wouldn’t be able to get the words out without blubbering.’
Deeply touched, Bright embraced her.
Oriel continued in her generous theme. ‘And we’ll get you some new clothes. You must’ve had that dress since you came to work for Miss B.’
‘I have!’ Her mother laughed and patted herself. ‘It’s getting a bit tight but I doubt any other woman of thirty-five could still get into a dress she wore when she was sixteen, even if I do say it myself. Oh listen to us! We shouldn’t be talking so frivolously with herself only gone a week.’ Bright dabbed at her eyes. ‘What’s even worse though… it feels as if she was never here. D’ye know what I mean?’
Oriel agreed that the atmosphere of the house was definitely a lot lighter.
‘I feel younger somehow,’ concluded Bright. ‘As if I’ve been in some sort of hibernation and now I’m being allowed to enjoy the youth I never had.’
‘Yes, you look far too slim and youthful for my liking.’ Oriel withdrew a bag of liquorice comfits from her pocket. ‘Here, have a bullet, that’ll put the weight on. Oh damn!’ In offering the bag she had dropped it and the brightly coloured sweets rolled all over the carpet.
‘Scrumps!’ In a fit of glee Bright dived onto the floor to make a grab for the comfits, laughing and giggling as her daughter joined the game, the two of them fighting and groping for who could get most.
Someone gave an exaggerated cough. In their peals of laughter they did not hear and Noel was forced to cough louder. This time, they looked up from their hands and knees into the amused face of the doctor.
‘Oh, Noel!’ Bright laughed, feeling stupid, and clambered to her feet. ‘You must think we’re barmy.’
‘I was beginning to wonder if I’d come to the right place,’ smiled Noel. ‘I did ring but you were obviously having too much fun to hear me – saw you through the window.’
Oriel rose too and poured a handful of comfits into the bag. ‘Most undignified. I can just hear Miss B turning in her grave.’
Bright offered reproof. ‘That’s not very respectful! What must Noel think?’
‘Noel thinks what a lot of fun he’s going to have in the company of two delightful young ladies this afternoon.’ The doctor beamed. ‘If, of course, they consent to putting themselves at risk in my rickety contraption.’
‘You’ve come to take us out?’ Bright clasped her hands in exuberance.
‘Indeed I have. So put on your hats and coats and be so kind as to fill these bottles with hot water from your kettle, then I shall transport you to fields green and pastures new.’
What a wonderful time they had that Sunday afternoon in Noel’s motor car. Protected from the cool April wind by foot muffs, hot water bottles, and rugs and hats tied on with scarves, they drove right out into the countryside, where one would hardly have believed there was a war on. The daffodils were in bloom just as any other year, the birds sang, lambs gambolled and Bright’s heart soared above the rolling hilltops. How anomalous that in this time of austerity she was enjoying more treats, more pleasures, than in her entire adulthood.
‘I can honestly say this is one of the happiest days of my life,’ she declared to Noel when he returned them home that evening, after treating them to a cream tea at a farmhouse. ‘Thank you, so much, Noel.’
‘It was an honour.’ Noel felt a tinge of pity. Poor Bright, to be so easily delighted. What she must have gone through all these years. ‘I’ll have to go now, I promised I’d do a voluntary stint at the Military Hospital. Must be going soft in my old age. I hope to take you out again when my patients allow it.’
‘We’d love that, wouldn’t we?’ Bright consulted her daughter who responded with enthusiasm. Then, thanking him once again they waved him off and went inside where Bright gave a youthful laugh and said, ‘Well, that was a lovely surprise!’
She was to express even more surprise when her daughter announced the next morning that she intended to return to college. ‘Oh, I didn’t think you’d be going any more.’ A ripple of panic made the hair on her body stand on end: she was to be alone in the house.
Oriel herself did not seem to regard her decision as strange. ‘I’ve worked hard for this certificate, I can’t see any merit in throwing it away at the final hour just because I’ve been left some money.’
‘Well, it’ll be nice to be able to hang it on the wall,’ agreed Bright, fixing her eyes o
n the painted galleon on the coal scuttle. Oh, please don’t leave me.
‘It’s not for the wall! It’s to get me a job.’ Oriel tugged on her gloves. ‘I’m not one to sit at home all day.’
‘Tut! You don’t have to. You can do anything you want now – why, we could open a nursing home so you could have your wish.’ As soon as she had said it Bright wished she hadn’t, for Oriel’s lighthearted expression vanished.
‘Be a nurse? No thank you, I gave up that childish idea long ago. I haven’t come this far just to empty bedpans.’ She hoped that her mother would not comment on what was obviously Miss Bytheway’s doctrine. ‘No, I’d like to do something useful with my qualifications.’ Attempting to hide her bitterness under a smile she asked, ‘What will you be doing today?’
Bright did not voice her fear of being left alone. It would be a cruel burden to inflict upon her daughter. ‘The same as ever, I suppose.’ She put her hands on her hips and looked around. ‘There’s always housework to be done.’ Don’t be so silly, she chided herself, you’ve been alone before. But not all day long. Please God the occupation would stop her thoughts from running wild.
Oriel laughed. ‘We can afford to hire someone to do that now!’
‘I’m not the type to boss folk around.’ Bright knew too well what that felt like. ‘Besides, no one wants to work in service any more with all the money they get in the munitions factories. I’ll manage.’
‘Well, there’s no need to overdo it,’ warned Oriel. ‘You’ve no slavedriver on your back now. Get yourself into town and buy that gramophone. I expect to see you dancing when I come home.’ She looked in the mirror to stab a pin through her hat. ‘Right, I’d better go. Don’t have anything ready for lunch, I’ll stay in town.’
‘Oh, hang on!’ Bright took sixpence from her purse. ‘Could you bring home a sheep’s head without eyes? It’ll save me going out.’
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