‘To help Hope, you mean? Good on you. Hard worker she is an’ all.’
‘For the child’s sake.’
‘Davy’s a wonderful little boy.’
‘David,’ Marjorie emphasized, ‘is in need of training.’
‘Aw, poor dab,’ Colin said softly.
‘Hope is wonderful with him. A happier boy you couldn’t imagine,’ Stella protested.
‘He’s neglected. There’s been no attempt to teach him manners and social behaviour.’
Stella looked at Marjorie, reached out for Colin’s hand and decided to take a chance on their friendship. ‘Be careful what you do, mind, Marjorie. You need Hope and Davy, and a wrong word and you could lose them both. He’s a fine boy and you should concentrate on enjoying him, and young Hope. A credit to you they are, the pair of ’em.’
‘I’m feeling tired, will you help me to go back inside?’
‘I’ll call again, in a day or so, shall I?’ Stella was anxious that her words had been ill chosen or ill timed.
‘I do get weary,’ Marjorie said. ‘I’ve been very ill you know.’
Stella didn’t know whether this was an apology for her sudden dismissal of them, or a request not to bother to call again.
Marjorie grasped the letter from Phillip, her hand hidden within her pocket. She had been on the point of showing it to Stella, and sharing with her the determination that she would take over the upbringing of her grandson. What a mistake that would have been. No one understood except Phillip. He was an artist and she had encouraged him, taught him to work hard and develop his talent. Only he understood the value of training. And poor Ralph, of course, taken from her by the selfishness of Hope.
*
It was Stella who found out the identity of the man Peter had seen running away the night the brick had smashed the window of Badgers Brook.
‘Ernie Preece, you know, him as lost a leg at Arnhem. Bitter towards Marjorie he was when he was unable to work for months. She told him to pull himself together and act like a man when he was offered a job and he had to refuse it. He’s been loud in his criticism of her, convinced that, with the right encouragement, Ralph would have dealt with his affliction as he has. He’d called on Ralph in the hope of helping, but she told him off for upsetting him and warned him to stay away.’
*
September, which seemed to be the end of the gardening year but was really the beginning, often kept Hope busy until darkness drove her inside, where Marjorie listened to the wireless and waited impatiently for her supper. There was no sign of her leaving, and Hope wondered whether she had made her too comfortable. She didn’t think she could cope with her permanently, even with the visit softened by the kindnesses of the ever-patient Freddy.
So it was with relief that, on the day the bean sticks were taken down, Marjorie announced that she was going home.
‘I’m glad you’re feeling well enough to consider it, Mother-in-law,’ she said, hoping her joy didn’t show. ‘We’ll make sure the house is warm and clean and welcoming before you go back.’ She wondered vaguely when she would find the time to do anything at Ty Mawr, when all her hours were so tightly filled here. Freddy told her not to try.
‘Stella will put an advertisement in her window asking for someone to clean and make it all comfortable.’ Hope knew she should protest, insist she could do what was necessary, but she didn’t. Instead she thanked him, kissed his cheek and told him he was a wonderful father-in-law.
*
Phillip was worried. Half-term was approaching and Connie was talking about them getting engaged, with a view to marrying the following summer. He knew he was being a fool to even consider refusing. Married to Connie he would be able to drift through life, fed, loved and with every comfort provided. Although the temptation was there to stay with her, he felt a cloying, dragging sensation as he looked into a future that would be exactly the same as now. Whatever the years ahead held for him, he couldn’t settle for that. Ambition had been a fleeting excitement when he had been younger, but even without that oh-so-brief urge to achieve better things, he had enough enthusiasm, just, to try once more to find a better way of spending the next fifty years. Fifty years! God in heaven, the thought of fifty years living with the same person was utterly terrifying.
He took out the letters he had received from Matthew with their cynical descriptions of his family and wondered whether he could stand them for long enough to find a fresh start. However difficult his mother had been, and however much he disliked her, she might be useful, and somehow, although he couldn’t quantify just how, he knew she owed him that.
*
As with Phillip, but for different reasons, going home was something Matthew didn’t relish. His steps dragged as he approached the rather grand detached house Sally’s parents had bought for them. He slung his suitcase on the steps of the porch and rang the bell with its cheerful little ditty that made him cringe but which today resulted in ominous silence. Damn it, they weren’t in. He searched irritably for his key.
Inside there was a tray set for him and a note propped against the teacup with a ticket for that evening’s performance. Sally and the two girls were taking part in yet another theatrical event. This one was Golden Days, a celebration of autumn. Sally and the girls sang, Sally played the flute, appearing as the Piper of Hamlyn in one sketch, a sailor in another. Megan and Olwen were dressed for the chorus as chrysanthemums. Amateur dramatics was not his sort of thing. Not at all. Matthew had never seen them perform – it was certain to make him cringe. Without stopping for a cup of tea, he left. An hotel would be preferable. He’d come back full of regrets at having missed the show yet again on Sunday.
*
Phillip’s journey home took a week. He thumbed lifts, and twice stayed in the home of someone who had believed his extravagant stories. He was rushing back to his sick wife and child; he’d been looking for work: he was an artist who had set up an exhibition of five years’ work only to have all his paintings stolen. He was quite sorry when he reached his destination.
Marjorie moved back to the Ty Mawr at the beginning of October, three weeks before Davy’s third birthday. She quickly recovered from the need to be looked after as she went from room to room complaining about the state of the place and the carelessness of the cleaner Hope had found for her. Freddy smiled and thought that the signs were good and she would be kept busy for long enough to settle back into her old routine. He just hoped that she would make the effort to get out and do her shopping and mingle with the local people, who were only too willing to support her given the chance.
He didn’t see his son, Phillip, stop at the gate, stare for a while then walk away.
*
Hope concentrated on finishing a dress and lined jacket she was making for a new client. Mrs Amby worked in the kitchens of a café, cleaning and preparing the table linen for each day. She was overweight and very conscious of the fact. She hadn’t worried about her size particularly, until her son met Rachel Grant. She now needed an outfit for her son’s wedding; something to make her smart and give her confidence in front of her daughter-in-law’s beautiful and rather daunting family.
Ignoring the bed still in the corner near the fire, and the oddments of litter scattered by her mother-in-law, Hope finished the outfit, promising herself that once it was done she would clean the room and return it to how she liked it.
‘No more visitors, what a relief,’ she said to Joyce, who was helping to fasten the last button.
Joyce sighed. ‘Once this wedding suit is delivered and the curtains for Mrs Ham’s are done we’re up to date. Who’d have believed it, after having Mrs Murton to look after for all this time. You’re a marvel, Hope,’ she said with a smile.
‘Nonsense. You know I didn’t do it alone. Thank you, Joyce, you’ve been wonderful.’ Hope stretched and gave a sigh of relief, before starting to clear away the evidence of Marjorie’s prolonged stay.
Joyce had gone, taking the dress and jacket to Mrs Amby
on her way home, and the room was back to normal. Hope was playing a game of Snap with Davy, who had been taught to play by Peter one afternoon and had insisted on a daily game ever since. The knock at the door was a surprise. It was after seven, almost time for Davy to go to bed, and she rarely had visitors in the evening. Thinking it must be Kitty she opened the door, her welcoming smile fading as she recognized Phillip, her brother-in-law.
‘Hello, Hope. Surprised to see me? From the look on your face you’re disappointed. Who were you expecting?’ She continued to stare and he said, ‘Are you going to keep me blathering here, woman, or can I come inside?’
She stepped back to allow him to enter. ‘Sorry. I didn’t know you were home. You couldn’t have been here long, your parents only went home today.’
‘Yes, I heard they were staying with you.’ His attractive, boyish face, fair hair tumbling around his ears, and challenging blue eyes with laughter in their depths were so similar to Ralph’s that she felt a warmth for him far stronger than she might have expected. His familiarity startled her, her reaction to him a surprise. He was someone she had never liked.
‘Would you like something to eat? Davy and I have had our supper but I can easily find you a snack,’ she offered. Then she saw that he had brought a suitcase with him. ‘Oh, you haven’t been home yet? I can’t walk with you, I need to get Davy settled, but have a cup of tea before you go.’
‘I was hoping to stay the night,’ he said, pleading with his eyes and his pouting lips. ‘I don’t want to disturb the old folk this evening.’
Her impulse was to agree – he was after all Ralph’s brother – but something stopped her. She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t. As I said, your parents were here until just hours ago and I’m not prepared.’
He nodded towards the couch. ‘That and a couple of blankets will do.’
‘Sorry, but I can’t. Your mother would never forgive me for keeping you from her. There’s a phone box not far from the gate, you could get a taxi or walk to the bus stop at the end of the lane. I’ll bring Davy over tomorrow and you can tell us all that you’ve been doing.’
He refused the offer of food and left, and as she watched him walk down the path, coat swinging open, suitcase in his hand, she had a very uneasy feeling that his visit was going to cause trouble. He looked so like Ralph that she had been deceived for a while, but there was something about him that was disquieting. Not like Ralph at all.
*
Connie held the note in hands that trembled. She had read it countless times and still didn’t know what she was going to do. Phillip had always been vague about his family and had somehow managed never to tell her their address. She had learned a few things, which she now tried to put together. It was in South Wales and not far from the sea. It was a small town, and his parents lived in a big house with a Welsh name. A big house, that wasn’t much help. A big house on the coast somewhere in South Wales wasn’t much to go on. The note gave no indication that was where he had been heading, yet she felt sure that was where he would be.
The alternative was another woman, but they were hardly ever apart so that was unlikely. Not that she trusted him completely, he would always have an eye for a pretty face and a tempting figure, but the opportunities weren’t there. Living together, working together, when would he find the time? No, it was home he’d go, for a bit of spoiling by that mother of his, who sounded like a real bully.
The friend from his school days, Matthew Charles, had visited a few times, and she tried to think about their conversations, hoping to remember something to add a clue to the little she knew. He’d occasionally sent a letter or a card but these were usually taken before she could read them. In any case, cards rarely showed an address and the postmark wouldn’t have helped much.
Why hadn’t she taken note of the address on the letter she had posted for him? She had dropped it into the box with a letter to her own mother without a thought. His parents were so far away they had seemed irrelevant. Until now.
In a sudden burst of anger, she moved all the furniture in their two rooms, and emptied every drawer and cupboard. The piles of paper were mostly bills and receipts, but somewhere there might be a clue that would lead her to his family. He said in his note that he was leaving because he was holding her back. That was a joke. Phillip wasn’t the kind to worry about someone else. When had he ever done anything else but hold people back? Selfish and lazy. Thoughtless and useless. Every word she uttered made her fury increase.
Her anger was not aimed solely at Phillip. Why had she been such a fool? Like Janet, Kate and Harriet she had been blinded by the belief that she could help him achieve his dream. She was the one who would change him, make him a success. He had told her, with great passion, about the other women and how they had failed to understand his aspirations, the necessity of working, the feeling of incompleteness when he didn’t have a brush in his hand and a blank canvas before him. How they had all walked away from him when his need was greatest, when success was just around the corner. Well she hadn’t left him. She had stayed and supported him, coaxed him as his mother had done, and now she was going to find him and make him tell her to her face just why he had walked away from her.
Six
When Matthew walked into the house, the two girls looked up, smiled and said, ‘Hello, Daddy,’ but there was not the usual enthusiasm in their welcome. He took out two small parcels, gifts he had bought as an apology for once again missing their performances. They thanked him, opened the wrapping paper, admired the necklaces, hugged him in an automatic way and took them to show their mother. Sally hadn’t even looked at him. He walked across the room and kissed the top of her head, then tried to turn her face towards him, but she moved away. This wasn’t going to be easy, he thought.
He began asking Megan and Olwen about the concert and after a while their enthusiasm made them more relaxed, but Sally didn’t contribute. Her coolness lasted through the traditional Sunday dinner and beyond. He took the girls for a walk to the park in the afternoon and they chattered happily enough until he asked, ‘Has anything upset your mother?’
‘You, of course,’ Olwen said with a laugh, as though he were making a joke. ‘You promised to come to the concert and she had arranged a party and you didn’t come.’
‘A party? A special occasion, was it?’
‘Mummy said you’d be there and they altered the date of their annual get-together so you could be included.’
‘I’m so sorry. I tried, I really did, but I couldn’t get away.’
‘“Rejection again,” that’s what Mummy said,’ Megan told him seriously, and Olwen nodded agreement.
He was silent for the rest of their walk. When they arrived back home he went upstairs to find his case had been placed in the box room amid their suitcases and lumber and an uninviting single iron bedstead. He tried to apologize but Sally wouldn’t talk to him.
In desperation he called to see her parents and invited his father-in-law for a drink. That he was angry was clear from his first words. ‘You, Matthew, are an insensitive clown. They were so looking forward to seeing you at the concert. So many times you’d let them down but this time they really believed you’d be there.’
‘I had intended to but—’
‘Shut up and listen.’ The man pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and showed it to Matthew. It was details of a house, his and Sally’s house, advertised for sale. ‘Sally doesn’t have to stay with you. The house is still in my name and I can ask you to leave at any time, should Sally wish it.’
Matthew stared at him, a tic in his cheek revealing his anxiety. ‘But she’s my wife and I love her. And Megan and Olwen.’
‘One more chance, Matthew, and that’s all you’re getting. Remember that they’ll manage without you quite easily. After all, they’ve had plenty of practise, haven’t they?’
Momentarily the idea of walking away was tempting. Sally organized the household so efficiently it seemed not to matter whether he w
as there or not. Any problem in the house was either dealt with by her father, or a tradesman was called and paid for by him. Her girls, her father, her house, he had never felt needed.
If he were honest, the need was in him, for a comfortable home to return to when he wanted a restful few days. But he admitted that his attitude towards it was little better than that he had towards some of the hotels and guest houses he used. He was welcomed as an occasional guest without question as long as he didn’t cause trouble. Surely a homecoming should be more than that?
He began to tell Sally’s father how he felt but quickly gave up the attempt. What was the point? He wouldn’t understand.
*
At Ty Mawr the loud knocking at the door had Marjorie groaning, and it was with irritation that she stood to answer it. Then she recognized the voice from outside, asking if she was going to open the door sometime today, and she ran. She stared at Phillip in disbelief, then gave a kind of scream and hugged him, calling for Freddy to ‘Come quick and see who’s here.’
‘Let the boy in,’ Freddy said, laughing, trotting to the door and pulling Marjorie aside. ‘Phillip, my boy, why didn’t you let us know? We’d have met you at the station.’
‘Hardly any need for that, Dad, I’m a big boy now.’
‘Your mother would have so enjoyed it, watching for the train, complaining if it was late. You know what she’s like, how she fusses.’
Phillip did know and he was already wondering how he would cope with even a few days of her tiresome ministrations. Absence was supposed to make the heart grow fonder, but as he looked at his smiling mother he knew that wasn’t that case. Already, in these first seconds, memories flooded back of the constant urging to do better and better, the constant criticism, which was supposed to be character-building. It was like an itch that was impossible to scratch.
A Girl Called Hope Page 13