by Pip Granger
As I sat there, idly thinking about things and eating my macaroni, I felt an unfamiliar glow spread outwards from my chest. I think it was happiness.
45
‘Leaving?’ Dad asked into the silence. ‘Leaving? Did you say you was leaving?’
I nodded, hardly daring to breathe, let alone speak. I’d shot my bolt bringing the subject up at all. But it seemed best to tell the whole family at once, while they were sitting at the Sunday dinner table. It saved repeating myself over and over.
Dad turned to Mum, face purple with beer and fury. ‘Did you know about this?’
Mum shook her head. ‘Although I’m not surprised – that Charlie of hers is a pig.’
‘I don’t care if he’s the whole fucking farm! She married him, she can bleeding well stick it out like any other married woman.’ Dad was beside himself with a mixture of disbelief and rage. His females did not defy him; even his sons didn’t, until they got old enough to clout him back, that is.
‘Watch your language, Harry,’ Gran warned him. ‘There’s kids present.’
‘What am I supposed to do about Mavis?’ I asked, reasonably enough, when I’d got my second wind.
‘See her off. It shouldn’t be beyond you. She can’t go around getting engaged to other people’s husbands. There’s laws about that sort of thing.’
‘But Zelda doesn’t want to see her off, Dad,’ Vi pointed out. ‘She reckons they deserve each other. And I agree with her. I reckon they do, too.’
‘What you reckon is beside the bloody point, Vi. She’s a married woman,’ Dad said, as if talking to a lunatic. The words ‘married woman’ seemed to cover everything as far as he was concerned.
‘We know that, Harry,’ Gran piped up patiently, having got over the initial shock. ‘But nowadays, she doesn’t have to stay married if she doesn’t want to. He’s a married man, but that hasn’t stopped him and Mavis having it off, has it? It shouldn’t be too hard to prove there’s been adultery. There’s laws about that kind of thing, too,’ Gran pointed out sneakily. ‘That’s why they have divorce.’
The word hung in the air, like the smell from a gaping sewer that had taken a direct hit. ‘Times have changed, Harry, and it’s about time you caught on to that fact. If I can, you ought to be able to, you being younger and all. Not that anyone would notice, the way you carry on. Anyone would think the old Queen was still on the throne if they listened to you. You’re halfway through the twentieth century, for Gawd’s sake, not the nineteenth.’
‘And what about Charlie?’ I asked, still managing to sound reasonable, although I was rapidly losing patience with Dad’s point of view.
‘What about Charlie?’ Dad demanded, not giving an inch. ‘Men was made to put it about a bit. It can be hard not to stray. Of course, a man should try,’ he added hastily, seeing the glint in Mum’s eye, then ruined it by muttering, ‘even if it is against nature.’
‘No,’ I said, boiling over, ‘I’m sorry, Dad, but what’s sauce for the goose is also sauce for the bloody gander. If I have to stick to my marriage vows, then so does Charlie. It never said in any vows I heard that he should start having it off with my cousin and worse, as far as I’m concerned, knock me about while he’s at it. If you’re so keen on Charlie, you bloody live with him.’
I realized that everyone was staring at me. ‘What?’ I asked, bewildered.
Gran grinned a grin big enough to berth the Queen Mary. ‘It’s you, Zelda. You’re beginning to remind me of me.’
‘It’s true, love. You even remind me of your gran,’ agreed Mum, looking proud. ‘For what it’s worth, I think you should take this chance. Ignore your dad. He’s a silly old fool anyway.’
Dad spluttered, showering gravy and Yorkshire pudding all over Reggie and the twins. I noticed that Doris quietly wiped them down with a tea towel while listening to every word.
‘Who are you calling a silly old fool? You’re my old woman, you’re supposed to be on my side, not calling me names.’ Dad simply couldn’t believe such wholesale insurrection in the ranks.
‘Give it a rest, Dad, do,’ Doris backed our mum up. ‘We’re all grown women here, and you’ve had it your way for far too long.’
Dad tried to butt in, but Doris wasn’t having it. ‘Times have changed. We’ve had jobs, we’ve dug for victory along with the blokes, we’ve made bombs, planes, ships, tanks, the bloody lot – we’re not going to go back to our kitchens. And we’re not going to keep our mouths shut any longer neither, just to keep the peace and the wage packet coming in to feed the kids. You’d better keep up, Dad, because you’re in danger of being left way behind.
‘And as to our Zelda, I say good luck to her. She’s paid her dues. She’s got no kids to worry about and her husband’s a bully who’s betrayed her – with a relative, no less. I say that Zelda has a right to say “Good riddance to bad rubbish.” So there!’ Doris finished triumphantly, then burst into tears. It had been a brave speech for my big sister and we were all proud of her, including her son.
‘You tell him, Mum,’ I heard Reggie mutter quietly.
‘I’m lucky,’ Doris continued in a choked voice. ‘I love Ern and I know he loves me. But it were never like that for Zelda, and so she should cut her losses and leg it, I reckon. You can’t make do and mend for ever, Dad, ’specially if what you’re trying to mend started out a mess, like our Zelda’s marriage.’
Dad looked around at us all. ‘How many of you think like that?’ he asked, incredulously. Everyone in the room put up a hand, even the twins, who had no idea what was going on – a situation they shared with their grandad.
‘Well then,’ he said heavily, ‘I suppose there’s nothing I can do. I won’t wish you luck, Enid, but I’ll do nothing to stop you neither. But I don’t think that Soho is a fit place for any daughter of mine all the same, even you.’
‘And you’ll be welcome home any time, dear, for a visit,’ said Mum. ‘You will come and visit, won’t you?’ She sounded anxious.
I laughed, relief at breaking my news flooding through me. ‘Of course, Mum, and you’ll come and see me. It’s only a bus ride away.’
‘I can show you how to get there, Granny Flo,’ Tony said proudly. ‘I know my way about up there.’
‘Bloody hell! What is the world coming to? My daughter and my grandson swanning about in bleeding Soho? It’s a den of vice, stiff with bloody whores and spivs. It’s disgusting,’ Dad roared.
‘That’s enough, Harold Marriott!’ Mum shouted back. ‘I dunno about Soho, but my grandchildren are learning all about bad language and vice at my own dinner table. Now shut up, for goodness sake, and eat your rhubarb crumble.’
Frankie and Zinnia were still out when I got back to 23 Paradise Gardens. Frankie had given Zinnia a lift to Soho to see Mr Burlap while he was reporting to his boss, Maltese Joe. He’d promised to put a word in about accommodation for me. The poor man would have it coming at him from all directions. Frankie was to bring Zinnia back when both their bits of business were satisfactorily concluded.
Meanwhile, I repacked my belongings ready to head home again. Charlie’d be on his way back to Catterick and I could do my washing and decide what things to take to my new life.
I had jumped two huge hurdles already in telling Charlie and my family my plans. It looked as if the third and fourth hurdles weren’t going to be as hard as I feared, either. It seemed that a job and a new home wouldn’t prove too difficult to come by with my new friends to help me. Without them, it would have been really hard. So many women were leaving work to get back into their kitchens. Well, perhaps not so much ‘leaving’ as being pushed, in a lot of cases.
Good old Hitler had made it his mission to ensure that houses were in chronically short supply, too. He had not only flattened loads of them, but had also made sure the blokes who would have built new ones were either in the army or kept busy repairing the old ones blasted by shrapnel or shock waves. Supplies of bricks, cement and wood – most of all wood – had been used in the wa
r effort and to make essential repairs. There was nothing left over for new houses, so lots of people were crammed into what was left of the old ones.
When my brothers got back, they would doubtless have to live in Arcadia Buildings along with Mum, Dad, Gran, Vi and Tony. So I knew I was very, very lucky to even get a sniff of a place to live and a job. I was counting my blessings even as I walked through the flat door.
‘At last!’ a voice said.
I peered into the gloom – I had just come in from bright daylight and my eyes hadn’t caught up – and made out a figure slumped in an armchair. ‘Charlie?’ I asked, disbelievingly. Then the stink of stale booze hit me. It was Charlie all right, and the worse for wear by the smell of things.
‘You’ve finally decided to turn up, have you?’ he sneered. He was struggling to stand, but the chair was low and his legs were unstable. He was unshaven, his hair stood up in spikes and he’d obviously been sick at some point. I don’t know if it was the sight or the smell of him that made my own stomach heave. Maybe it was just fear.
‘What are you doing here?’ I asked. ‘You’re s’posed to be on the train back by now.’
‘Well I ain’t, am I? I’ve gone AWOL,’ Charlie answered, finally staggering towards me.
I took a few steps backwards. ‘I can see that.’ Going AWOL was a serious business. The army took a dim view of it and men wound up doing time in the glasshouse for less.
‘I reckon they’ll understand. When a man’s wife has the sauce to walk out on him, he’s bound to get a bit upset. They’ll go easy on me, I reckon, if I bother to go back at all.’ Charlie took some more steps and so did I. My back was against the door of the flat. I moved away and tried to inch it open a tiny fraction. I knew that I mustn’t allow myself to be locked in with him, even for a second.
‘Desertion’s a very serious offence, Charlie. You’ll be for it if they catch you, and if you hang about here, they’ll catch you for sure. You live here. It’ll be the first place the military coppers’ll check. Then they’ll try your mum’s.’
I was playing for time. I needed the flat door open. I inched it a bit further, just far enough so that I could sling it open in one movement, should the need arise.
The need arose immediately. Charlie lunged for me. I dodged out of his reach, threw the door wide and scuttled onto the little landing. I tried to pull the door closed after me, but Charlie had a hold on it. I stepped backwards down a couple of steps, not wanting to take my eye off him for a moment. Then Charlie wrenched the door open and lunged again. I dodged quickly to one side and he plunged past me head first down the stairs, the very same flight that he’d thrown me and our unborn baby down.
I watched him tumble and land at the bottom in a shabby, grubby heap. I wondered if he’d broken his neck, but then I saw him move and heard a groan. My heart sank. He was between me, the street door and freedom. If I wanted to get out, I’d have to step over him, and I wasn’t at all sure how hurt he was. He was very drunk, and I’d noticed before that drunks seemed to bounce better than the sober.
He groaned again and whispered, ‘Help me, Zeld.’
I walked gingerly down the stairs to help him. Talk about stupid! No sooner did I bend over him, checking to see that he wasn’t badly hurt, than he had his hands round my throat. He began to squeeze for all he was worth. Luckily, he was too drunk and in no physical position to be worth much, and I managed to wrench myself away and step over him to the front door. I yanked at it. It flew open with such force that it smashed into Charlie’s face as he got to his knees and lunged towards me for a third and last time. He went down again, clutching his nose. There was blood everywhere.
‘Oh well done, dolly.’ Ronnie’s hand was raised to knock. Terry was standing right behind him. The pair of them assessed the situation and then sat on Charlie while I gathered up my bags and found a clean set of clothes.
I half ran back to Zinnia’s. A mix of fear and excitement would not let me walk. By the time I got there, she and Frankie had got back from Soho and were sitting at the kitchen table sipping scalding hot tea. They heard me out without interruption. When I’d finished my tale of woe, Frankie rose purposefully to his feet.
‘I’d better head round there,’ he said. ‘I want a word with Charlie boy about the way he likes to lay into the ladies. I’ll be back.’
Once I’d calmed down enough, I was able to grill Zinnia about her meeting with Digby Burlap. She wasn’t very forthcoming at first, being a secretive sort when it came to her own business, but she did open up a tiny bit when I pointed out that she knew everything about my life and it was only fair that she put me out of my misery.
‘It’s driving me potty, when I have the time, wondering about you and Mr Burlap,’ I told her.
She smiled and, just for a moment, looked and sounded like a young girl. I had never noticed before, but Zinnia was a striking looking woman; not beautiful, but striking.
‘You have a point, lassie. I’ll not deny I’m secretive. I suppose it comes from being brought up on an island, where your neighbours know when a body last sneezed and how regularly you change your underwear. They know almost as soon as you do, and the rest of the island knows by dinnertime. Anyway, a tale will take our minds off what’s happening round at your place, which is probably the best thing for us both.
‘Where to begin …?’
I listened until I thought my ears must drop off. I heard all about her childhood on the remote island and how, after seagulls and seals, the traffic and the rush and bustle of London had come as a tremendous shock to her.
‘And the heathenism. Ach! You English are terrible heathens,’ she laughed. ‘Where I come from, Sundays are for kirk and that is all. No washing, cooking, cleaning; just praying, and walking to and from the kirk. I could not believe it when I found I could walk just for pleasure on the sabbath day. It was never so at home.
‘Anyway, I was training for a nurse at the Middlesex Hospital and living in the nurses’ quarters. I was very happy. Then, one Sunday in Regent’s Park, I met Digby.’
Zinnia’s vivid grey eyes looked back across the years and her face softened. ‘We met up on most Sundays after that. I felt so wicked, to be walking out with a young man on the Sabbath; so wicked and so free. I loved my new life – and I loved Digby.’
Eventually, they became engaged, against her family’s wishes. He was, after all, an entertainer, which was the next best thing to the Devil himself, according to Zinnia’s lot. There was little they could do about it, them being hundreds of miles away, but her father never spoke to her again before he died, and her mother was little better. Singing was sinful. They didn’t even sing in church, and that was that.
‘Of course, we had no money, so we were forced to wait. I wanted to finish my training too. Married women weren’t taken into nursing, and I would have had to leave the hospital. So we waited for better times, and I think I secretly hoped my parents would come round. But better times were slow in coming and my parents were obstinate.’
Zinnia sighed. ‘Then Digby began to tour all over the place and we drifted apart.’ She faltered to a stop. ‘I eventually came here and Digby married someone else. We lost touch.’
But they had met up again by accident, at a concert at the Albert Hall. Digby’s wife had run off with an acrobat and he’d settled in Soho, giving lessons to hopefuls and making a tidy living.
‘The rest you know,’ Zinnia concluded.
‘Oh no I don’t,’ I wailed. ‘His wife ran off with an acrobat and …?’
Zinnia blushed to the roots of her hair. ‘And Digby and I kept in touch. That’s all you need to know, young lady. We have kept in touch for many years now, and recently …’ she paused – ‘recently, Digby heard that his wife had died. He heard it from a mutual acquaintance who had been there when it happened. She fell from her trapeze just before the war. She broke her neck. It was very sad and Digby was most distressed to hear of it. However, it did mean that he was free. So, after a decent inte
rval, he proposed marriage to me once again.’
‘So that’s what the message was about,’ I breathed. ‘You went there today to give him your answer.’
Zinnia nodded. I waited. The baggage let me wait. In the end, I had to beg. ‘So?’ I prompted. ‘What did you tell him?’
‘I told him yes.’ She smiled a radiant smile, like a cat with a whole cow full of cream. ‘As long as we live here.’
‘Oh, congratulations, Zinnia!’ I yelled, and launched myself across the table to give her a big hug, which shook us both rigid. Zinnia was not one of nature’s huggers. It was like grabbing a plank. But she did her best. Then we broke out her whisky to celebrate.
I have to admit, it never occurred to me that Zinnia would ever tie the knot. She seemed content as she was. And she was, she assured me.
‘But my work here will soon be over, hen. This here National Health Service everyone’s talking about will see to that. And I always intended to marry Digby, when we were engaged the first time, but I just let things drift. I didn’t want to hurt my parents, I suppose. So now’s as good a time as any, hen, when there’s already so much change in the air.’
46
Ronnie and Terry had cleaned Charlie up after I left. They had just got him on his feet when Frankie arrived. Frankie explained his mission and what he wanted with Charlie.
‘So we stepped back smartish, dolly, and let the nice man take over,’ Ronnie told me at work the next day.
When he’d got back to Zinnia’s the night before, Frankie had simply mumbled that he thought Charlie had got the message about leaving Zinnia alone in future. He’d also mentioned he’d dumped Charlie on a train for Penzance, the opposite end of the country from where he needed to be, ‘To keep the little bastard busy’. Then he went to bed. It was most unsatisfactory; I wanted more details. So I was glad to see Ronnie at dinnertime.