by Jonker, Joan
‘Oh, we will!’ Bessie held the door wide. ‘Come in, sweetheart.’ She waited until the girl had passed through to the living room, then said to the woman who wasn’t looking at all at ease with herself, ‘I hope you have a lovely evening, too, but don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’ This was a remark anyone would make to another person and it would be taken as a joke. But the tell-tale blush it brought to her neighbour’s cheeks told Bessie she was right in thinking there was more to this night out than visiting an old school friend. ‘Give a knock on the wall tomorrow when yer want Amelia to come home.’
‘What time would you like me to knock? Are you an early riser?’
Bessie shook her head. ‘I sometimes go to church, but I won’t be going tomorrow, I’ll be having a lie-in. So Amelia can stay as long as yer like. But I’ll have to go in now, ’cos I’ve got to put the custard on the jelly creams before it sets. I’ll see yer tomorrow.’ She closed the door quickly. She’d only just remembered that before the knock came, she was halfway through putting the custard on top of the jelly she’d set previously in white pleated paper cases. She wasn’t changed yet, either, and she wanted to look respectable when Rita and Aggie came over. Not that she’d look like a film star no matter what she wore, but a girl had her pride and should make the most of herself, even if she did have a face that resembled the back of a tram.
Amelia was waiting for Bessie to come back into the living room. ‘Do you really like my dress, Miss Bessie? And does it suit me?’
‘It looks lovely on yer, sweetheart, and yer look as pretty as a picture.’ Bessie grinned. ‘Guess what that cheeky front door’s just said to me? It said I have a face like the back end of a twenty-two tram.’
Amelia hurried to put her arms around the little woman’s waist. ‘You’ve got a lovely face, Miss Bessie, and I’ve a good mind to give that door a smack.’
‘We’ll leave it till tomorrow, eh, sweetheart? We don’t want to be fighting on our birthday, do we? We’re going to have a really good time and enjoy ourselves. But first I’ve got to see to the cakes and then change meself before me mates come. It won’t take me five minutes, then I’ll be ready. You sit yerself down so yer don’t dirty yer new dress.’
Amelia lowered her head. ‘It isn’t a new dress, is it, Miss Bessie? You see, I can tell because it doesn’t feel new, and there’s a little tear at the back, near the hem.’
‘Oh, sweetheart, what difference does it make whether it’s new or not! It’s new to you, and that’s the main thing. Perhaps yer mother didn’t have enough money for a new one, ’cos times are hard now and lots of people don’t even have enough money for food, never mind new clothes. I bet there isn’t a girl in this street who wouldn’t envy you if they could see how pretty yer look in it. D’yer think they’d worry about whether it was brand-new or not?’ Bessie shook her head. ‘Not on your life they wouldn’t. And, anyway, I haven’t got a new dress, and I’ll lay odds that neither Mrs Wells nor Mrs Gordon will walk in here dressed up to the nines in brand-new clothes.’ She dropped a kiss on Amelia’s cheek. ‘Ye’re a lucky girl, sweetheart, compared to some, believe me.’
‘Yes, I know, Miss Bessie, ’cos I’ve got friends at school who sometimes don’t come in because they haven’t any shoes to wear. So I know I’m very lucky. But my bestest piece of good luck is having you for a friend.’
‘Oh, well, that’s a piece of good luck we share, sweetheart, ’cos I look forward to you coming so much my eyes never leave the clock.’ Bessie’s jaw dropped. ‘Oh, my God there’s Aggie knocking at Rita’s door. They’ll be over in a minute and here’s me not ready. You let them in, love, while I do a quick change. If yer can think of a joke to keep them amused, they’d be over the moon.’
Amelia was taken aback. ‘I don’t know any jokes, Miss Bessie.’
Bessie was halfway up the stairs when she shouted down, ‘Tell them about the door saying I have a face like the back of a tram.’
When Amelia opened the front door, she stepped aside to let Mrs Wells and Mrs Gordon enter. She was in a predicament. She didn’t want to let Miss Bessie down, but she couldn’t bring herself to say what she’d been told to say. However, her problem was solved when Mrs Wells told her, ‘We heard what Bessie said about that ruddy door of hers, and if I was in her shoes I’d stop polishing its knocker for a while. That would take it down a peg or two.’
Feeling relieved, Amelia told her, ‘Me and Miss Bessie are going to leave it until tomorrow, Mrs Wells, because we don’t think we should fight on our birthdays.’
‘Quite right, too, sunshine, it’s a day for yer both to be happy. And seeing as it’s a party, don’t yer think it sounds unfriendly to call me Mrs Wells? Just for tonight, wouldn’t yer like to call me Auntie Rita?’
Amelia frowned, thinking her mother would be angry about that. Then the frown was replaced by a smile when a voice in her head said her mother need never know. ‘That would be nice.’ Her curls bounced up and down as she nodded. ‘Yes, I’d like that, Auntie Rita.’
Aggie Gordon hadn’t spoken so far, but she’d been taking all this in with narrowed eyes and decided she wasn’t going to be left out. ‘If we’re going to be pally, queen, yer can call me Auntie Aggie.’
Amelia clapped her hands. She had never had a birthday party before, and she had never had any aunties. She would have to keep them secret, of course, but she was thrilled. ‘I’ve never had an auntie before, now I’ve got two!’
Bessie almost fell down the stairs in her haste. ‘No, yer haven’t, sweetheart, yer’ve got three. Yer wouldn’t leave me out, would yer?’
When the girl ran to put her arms around Bessie’s waist, and told her she would never leave her out for she was her best friend, Rita and Aggie exchanged glances. Rita wasn’t surprised, she’d always felt sorry for Amelia and had a soft spot for her. But Aggie Gordon was having her eyes opened. For the first time she was seeing a young girl who was friendly and affectionate. She certainly didn’t take after her stuck-up mother. And Aggie admitted to herself that she’d been wrong, for the child shouldn’t be blamed for the faults of the woman who had given birth to her.
‘I hope there’s going to be food at this here party,’ Aggie said, letting her large frame drop on to the couch. There were a few twangs as the springs complained at the sudden weight but Aggie didn’t turn a hair. Any chair or couch that couldn’t stand her weight was obviously cheap and badly made. After all, she wasn’t that heavy. Well, perhaps a bit heavier than most, but not so much you’d notice. She wasn’t a flaming giant. ‘Did yer hear me, Bessie, ’cos I’m starving. I didn’t have no dinner ’cos I thought if I did I wouldn’t be hungry, and I’d hate to insult yer by refusing food what yer’d spent hours getting ready for us.’
Bessie and Rita looked at each other and roared with laughter. ‘You refuse food, Aggie Gordon? Never in yer life. And I’ll bet any money that yer didn’t go without yer dinner either, ’cos yer love yer belly too much.’
‘I hope yer’re not too hungry, Aggie,’ Bessie said, ‘’cos I’ve only made jelly creams, and they won’t fill yer. I didn’t bother with sandwiches or anything like that, I was sure yer’d have had yer dinner before yer came.’
Amelia’s wide eyes were going from one to the other. She wasn’t used to being in a room with more than one person, and had never before heard a conversation going on between three grown women. She’d heard groups of children in the school playground, of course, and she’d always joined in. But she couldn’t join in here, for she was at a loss to know why Miss Bessie had said she only had jelly creams when there were sandwiches and a large sponge cake in the larder.
‘Some bleeding party this is going to be.’ Aggie tossed her head back then turned it sideways so she could wink at Amelia. ‘Nowt to eat, and I bet she hasn’t even bought a few bottles of milk stout so we can get drunk and forget how hungry we are.’
‘Ay, ay,’ Bessie said. ‘Yer were warned to watch yer language in front of Amelia, ’cos she’s not used to
women what swear.’
‘I’m sorry, queen, and I’ll watch me tongue from now on.’ Once again she winked at the birthday girl. ‘But yer must admit that coming to a party what’s got nothing to eat, and not even a bottle of milk stout, well, it’s enough to make a saint swear. I’m no saint, mind yer, but I will promise it won’t happen again.’
Amelia had never been so close to the big woman before, in fact she was a little afraid of her because she had such a loud voice. But she wouldn’t be afraid any more, for she could see laughter lurking in the bright eyes that were almost hidden in the woman’s chubby face. ‘That’s all right, Auntie Aggie, I’ll forgive you.’
Aggie was so chuffed she leaned forward, giving the couch false hope that she was about to remove her weight elsewhere. But it wasn’t to be, and the largest spring passed the word around to all the smaller ones that it wasn’t worth creaking, it would be a waste of energy. ‘Ooh, that sounds nice, that does, queen!’ Her bosom grew two inches. ‘Auntie Aggie!’
Rita tutted. ‘D’yer know what would sound nicer? If we wished Amelia a happy birthday and gave her the birthday cards.’
Aggie slapped an open palm to her forehead. ‘Oh, stupid Aggie! D’yer know, queen, I’d forget me head if God hadn’t had the sense to screw it on. Pass me bag over, Bessie, there’s a good girl.’
‘Ay, who was yer servant before I came along?’
‘I’ll get it for her, it’ll be quicker.’ Rita picked the bag up from the side of the couch and passed it to her neighbour. Then she opened her own bag and took out an envelope. ‘Here yer are, sunshine, it’s from me and the rest of me family. Have a very happy birthday.’
Amelia was beside herself with happiness as she opened up the card to see ‘Mr and Mrs Wells’ written inside, and underneath the names of the two boys, Billy and Jack. Aggie’s card wished her a happy birthday and was signed by her and her husband and the two children, Kitty and Kenny. ‘Oh, they are lovely, thank you very much. I’ve never had a birthday card before – and look at all the names on them. I am a very lucky girl.’
‘There’s mine to come yet,’ Bessie told her. ‘It’s on the sideboard, sweetheart, you get it while I start to set the table before Aggie dies of hunger.’ Once out in the kitchen, she leaned her hands on the draining board, and bit on her bottom lip to keep the tears away. Eight years of age and never had a birthday card. Even the poorest family in the street wouldn’t let their child’s birthday go without buying them a ha’penny card, even if it meant sitting in the dark with no money for the gas meter. Oh, that girl’s mother had a lot to answer for, and if there was any justice in the world, then a day of reckoning would surely come for her.
Evelyn’s heart and stomach were all of a flutter as she walked out of Exchange Station under the gaze of people waiting for trains. They must have thought she was mad, parading through the station dressed to kill. She couldn’t go through all this rigmarole again, her nerves were shattered. It was a good job it wasn’t far to the hotel, she felt so conspicuous. She couldn’t tell either if her appearance was perfect. There was only a small mirror in the ladies’ cloakroom in the station. She had done the best she could with her hair, but of course, unlike the old days when money was no object, she hadn’t been able to visit a hair salon to have it Marcel-waved. But the velvet band around her forehead looked attractive, she hoped.
As she neared the hotel, she stopped for a while to compose herself. The last thing she wanted was to look flustered and unsure of herself. So she took several deep breaths before smiling at the uniformed doorman who held the door open for her. ‘Good evening.’
‘Good evening, madam, and what a pleasant evening it is.’
Evelyn had barely stepped into the foyer before Philip was standing by her with a smile on his face and a look of admiration in his eyes. ‘My dear, you look delightful.’ He took her hand and kissed it. ‘I think I can safely say you will be the most beautiful woman here this evening, and I’ll be the envy of every one of my friends.’
Evelyn allowed him to take her cape which he handed to a nearby page. ‘I hope I haven’t kept you waiting?’
‘If you have, I can assure you it has been worth the wait. I have booked a table for two, my dear, in a quiet alcove where we can talk without interruption.’ He had found her attractive from the moment he’d set eyes on her in the office, but tonight she looked more than attractive as she walked with her back straight and her hips swaying gently. She looked positively regal, and Philip was conscious of men turning their heads as they followed the maître d’hôtel past tables catering for larger parties, to the alcove where their table was set with shining silverware, sparkling glasses, a flickering candle, and to add that bit extra to a table set for a lavish meal, a beautiful white and lilac orchid at the side of one of the place settings.
‘Oh, how sweet!’ Evelyn picked up the delicate flower and held it to her face. Its soft perfume took her back over the years to when one of these expensive flowers was always presented to her by Charles when they were dining out. ‘It is really beautiful, Philip, and very thoughtful of you.’
‘It matches your beauty, my dear, and my aim in life is to please you.’ He waved to the maître d’hôtel who was hovering in the background. ‘A bottle of your finest champagne, Alfonso, my companion and I wish to celebrate. We will order our meal later, but first I wish to make a toast.’
Alfonso bowed. ‘I will choose the wine myself, Mr Astbury, and it will be the best.’
‘What are we toasting, Philip?’ Evelyn asked, feeling relaxed now, and very much at home in a room where the women were richly dressed and you could almost smell the wealth. ‘Is it your birthday or a special event?’
‘A very special event, my dear Evelyn. Our first evening out together socially, which I’m hoping will be the first of many.’
She lowered her eyes and her dark lashes fanned her cheeks. Now was the time to put her plan into action. And because what she was tasting this evening was something she wanted very much for her future life, she had to be word perfect. No more scraping along each week with not enough money to live on, no more living in a poky two-up-two-down house with common people for neighbours. To get what she wanted more than anything in her life, her acting had to be faultless.
‘I’m afraid it would have to be the odd occasion for me, Philip, even though I wish it were otherwise. You see, while I am not penniless, I really don’t have enough money to buy the sort of clothes I would need for many social outings such as tonight’s.’ When Philip would have spoken, she silenced him with a raised hand. ‘I manage quite well, and am not complaining or looking for sympathy. And I really don’t want to have to explain my position, or any part of my past life. That would benefit no one. I would love to see you again, but, as I said, it would only be on the odd occasion, and not often as you suggest. I do not want to lie to you, I prefer to tell you the truth. And the truth is, I have to be very careful with what money I have. I can’t afford expensive clothes, nor can I afford taxis every time I go out. My life was very different years ago, but now I must live within my means.’
Much to the irritation of Philip, Alfonso arrived at that moment with a silver bucket half-filled with ice on which rested the bottle of champagne. With an exaggerated flourish, the waiter popped the cork and poured a little into Philip’s glass. ‘Would you care to taste, Mr Astbury?’
‘If it is your choice, Alfonso, then I’m sure it is splendid. Please pour then leave the bottle in the ice. I will attend to it myself and indicate when we are ready to see the menu.’
The only thing that was spoiling the evening for Evelyn was the thought that she might meet up with someone who knew her from the early days, and remembered her connection with the Lister-Sinclair family. ‘You appear to be well known here, Philip, is it a favourite haunt of yours?’
‘One of them,’ he answered briefly, wanting to turn the topic back to Evelyn’s situation. ‘Let us drink to our friendship, and then I want to know more about you.
You see, you intrigue me.’
She sipped the wine, then gave an appreciative nod and giggled as the bubbles tickled her nose. ‘I always did like champagne, and I would say this was a very good year.’
‘You are a woman of mystery, Evelyn Sinclair,’ he said. ‘And I very much want to unravel that mystery.’
Again Evelyn’s lashes fanned her cheeks. ‘There is no mystery, I am what you see.’ She raised her eyes to gaze into his. ‘My husband idolised me, put me on a pedestal and gave me everything my heart desired. Then came the war, he was killed, and suddenly I found I had to fend for myself. I had little money, and although for the first year after he died I tried to keep in contact with friends, I had to come to my senses eventually, and settle for a comfortable unexciting life.’
Philip reached across the table and covered each of her hands. ‘Oh, you poor darling! I can well understand your husband idolising you, it would be very easy to do so. But we can’t allow you to hide yourself away, it would be a sin! I want you to let me help you be happy and bring you pleasure. Someone as beautiful as you should not be hidden away.’
Her brain was scheming, but the large brown eyes that stared into his were as innocent as a baby’s. ‘That is very good of you, Philip. You really are a kind man. And I would like to meet you socially now and again, but that is as far as our relationship can go. I have my pride, and unless I could afford to be fashionably dressed, with my hair waved by a specialist, and able to take a taxi to our meeting place, I would feel most uncomfortable.’
He topped up their glasses. ‘Come along, my love, there’s nothing quite like champers to cheer one up.’ While he drank, his eyes were glued to the face he thought so perfect. Eyes you could swim in, sculpted cheek bones, excellent complexion and a set of perfect white teeth. As well, of course, as a figure any woman would envy. ‘I am more than comfortably off, Evelyn, and so are my parents. I don’t need to work, I only do so because I would get incredibly bored playing tennis all day and every day like some of my friends. So I am in a position to help you enjoy a pleasurable life.’