A Girl Called Hope

  ‘Just to see it is an improvement.’ She touched his arm affectionately.

  Sitting either side of the gradually strengthening fire was so comfortable, so relaxing, that they stayed for a long time, reminiscing about the past, until Hope’s wide yawn make him jump up and apologize.

  ‘Hope, I’m so sorry, keeping you up all this time. After the party, as well. You must be worn out. It’s almost five o’clock. what was I thinking about?’

  ‘It was a perfect way to end Davy’s birthday, Peter. Thank you.’ She stretched rather inelegantly, and only then, having long abandoned the blanket, did she remember, once again, how unsuitably she was dressed. Peter was such an easy person to talk to, it hadn’t entered her head. She pulled the collar up as high as it would go and Peter asked, ‘Ralph’s?’

  When she nodded he smiled and said, ‘It’s good to hold on to something. Keep some of his things around you, and don’t avoid talking about him. Otherwise it would be like pretending he’d never lived. You have years of happy memories and it would be a shame to forget them.’

  Tiredness was taking its toll, which, together with the intimacy of the past hours, was making her feel weepy. It was so quiet, the only sound the occasional shifting of coals in the grate. They could have been the only two people in the world. She turned and clung to Peter and fought back tears. His arms were comforting, enfolding her in warmth and putting aside her loneliness. Slowly she raised her face to him and their lips met in a kiss. ‘Thank you, Peter,’ she said.

  She slid out of his arms and he quickly moved away. ‘Time to go, while there’s at least an hour or two of the night left for sleep,’ he said softly. As he opened the door a vixen barked close by, an eerie, wailing bark that sounded as lonely as he felt at leaving.

  *

  Connie was in her room at the guest house, counting her money, and, after working out how few days it would last, had decided to go back home. Apart from running out of money she knew she had been foolish to come, and now all she wanted was to get away. The job that had been Phillip’s would be given to a man; it couldn’t be hers, even though she had done most of the work. She’d have to find some other way of keeping herself. The rent of the room was small, and she could manage on very little.

  The thought of going back to her family home on the outskirts of Birmingham crossed her mind, but she knew that it would be a retrograde step, that once she returned to the comfort and safety of her parents’ home it was there she would remain, to grow old and end up alone.

  She had left to take a job as nanny to two little boys in North Wales, and when they no longer needed her she had decided to stay in the area. She had been away too long, and to return home would have been stifling, even though the thought of being spoiled and cared for was a strong temptation.

  She wished there was a way for her to stay in Cwm Derw, but that was impossible with Phillip’s parents here and aware of the situation. She had seen Geoff a couple of times, but after meeting him tonight after Davy’s party, she wouldn’t see him again. Phillip had ruined that before it had begun.

  *

  Phillip was heading for Ty Mawr just before dawn, but didn’t intend stopping. There was just time to slip home, leave his clothes to be laundered and collect clean ones, eat whatever he could find and leave again. As he passed Badgers Brook he was surprised to see a light glowing in the kitchen window. He slowed his steps as he saw the door open and a figure emerge.

  It was almost morning, so who could it be? A doctor perhaps. He stood still. Perhaps he should go and see if Hope and Davy were all right. But that would make him late, and early morning wasn’t the time to be faced by his mother. He darted across the lane and slid behind the trunk of a birch tree that glowed whitely in the darkness and watched as Peter hurried away.

  So this is our innocent widow, is it? Hope hadn’t waited long before finding someone to take Ralph’s place! His indifference towards his brother shifted as he felt outrage, which was rapidly replaced by cynical pleasure. This was something to take his parents’ minds off Connie, that much was certain. Bending forward, hands in pockets, his silhouette distorted by the heavy flying boots he wore and the thick overcoat, scarf and trilby, he was smiling as he headed for home.

  *

  Marjorie was awake. She had set the alarm clock for 5:30 and muffled it under her pillow. She roused herself but almost changed her mind about rising. The morning was dark and very cold. Her nose was tucked under the edge of the blanket to ease the discomfort of the icy night air. Sliding carefully from between the sheets she reached for her dressing gown, her feet feeling around for slippers.

  This was crazy, she told herself. Phillip might already have been and gone; he might not come at all. He was clearly avoiding them, so if she showed a light he’d stay away. She hesitated on the landing in the utterly dark house, tempted by the warm bed she had just left and feeling the chill air around her feet, imagining the coldness of the living room with the heat of the previous day’s fire dissipated.

  She made up her mind, pulled the dressing gown more tightly around her body and went down the stairs. She had reached the last stair before she realized that there was a light in the kitchen. She opened the door and said calmly, ‘Good morning, Phillip.’

  ‘Mummy, I’m so glad to see you.’

  ‘Are you, dear? Then why have you avoided us for so long?’ She tried to keep recrimination from her voice.

  He ignored her question and said instead, ‘I’ve just seen something very upsetting.’

  Marjorie waited for him to continue. He had filled the kettle and cut himself some thick slices of bread. Thank goodness bread was no longer rationed. Although whatever he took to spread on it would leave her short.

  ‘It’s Hope.’ He raised a sad face, allowed a theatrical pause, and went on. ‘She’s found someone else.’

  ‘What d’you mean “found someone else”! She can’t have. Ralph hasn’t been gone more than a few months.’

  ‘I was walking back through the wood and I saw a light in the kitchen of Badgers Brook. I was worried, thinking there might be something wrong, Davy ill or something. I went towards the gate and saw Peter Bevan leaving. Him with the horse and cart. This was at five o’clock this morning.’

  Marjorie covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes wide with shock, then ran to the stairs and called Freddy, demanding that he came down at once. Then, as always in moments of trouble, she made tea.

  Freddy begged them to say nothing. ‘Gossip is so easy to start but impossible to put a stop to,’ he reminded them. ‘If Hope is innocent she could be hurt by the rumours, probably for months. Please, Marjorie, let’s keep it between us until we can talk to Hope.’

  ‘I don’t want to talk to her. After what she’s done, and is doing, to this family I never want to see her again.’ She was not being honest. As soon as four o’clock came and Joyce finished work she intended to confront Hope and tell her that her sordid secret was out.

  *

  It was sheer luck that Geoff saw Connie walking towards the railway station. Stella’s husband, Colin, was on duty, and it was as he came out to take Connie’s suitcase from her that Geoff looked out of the van window. He hurriedly parked the van and ran up the station approach. Stopping to buy a platform ticket, which he impatiently offered to Colin, he asked Connie why she was leaving without telling him.

  ‘I’m truly sorry, Geoff. I didn’t mean to be rude but I wanted to slip away without anyone noticing. It hasn’t been a very successful visit, you see.’ She looked up at him, saw the disappointment in his eyes. ‘The best part was meeting you. I’ll never forget our winter picnic. It was a magical day.’

  ‘Then why say no to repeating it?’ The heavy rumble of the approaching train drenched him with utter panic. ‘Don’t go. Or at least get the next train, please, Connie. Just another hour, surely you can spare me that?’

  Leaving her case in Bob’s care, they went to a café where they ate toast, drank tea, and talked. The conver
sation was stilted as it had never been on that picnic. Both were aware that there was so much to say and that many miles would separate them after the following few hours.

  In the end, all they achieved was an exchange of addresses and the promise to keep in touch. As the train took her away from him, Geoff’s spirits sank lower and lower. They hardly knew each other but over the short hours they had spent together Connie had become his hope of an exciting future when he had given up expecting one. He watched without blinking as the train moved away, its engine snorting and hissing with importance. When the tail of the train disappeared around the final bend in the track, he was bereft.

  *

  Freddy was standing on the bridge looking down at the railway line. He was concerned for Hope, knowing that, although she had promised to keep quiet about what Phillip had seen, Marjorie would be unable to resist spreading her suspicions. He couldn’t understand her vindictiveness towards their daughter-in-law. The excuse of it being her way of grieving was no longer valid; she had a nasty streak and there seemed little hope of it fading.

  He didn’t feel able to go and see Hope and find out what had happened; there were no words that would discover the truth without offending, and he knew that Hope needed all her friends at this time, and they included himself. He would have to wait, and pray that this time Marjorie would behave with loyalty towards their sadly diminished family.

  *

  Before confronting Hope with accusations, unable to keep it to herself, Marjorie told Stella in the post office. Huddled in the corner where wool and cottons were sold, she repeated what Phillip had said. Stella’s immediate reaction was that the story should not be spread. ‘Don’t tell another soul, Marjorie, there could be a simple explanation. Even you must see that it would be cruel to make Hope the subject for wicked gossip.’

  ‘What d’you mean, even me? I don’t like the girl. I never did, but I'm not spiteful. I simply can’t ignore the truth! She wasn’t the right one for Ralph and he’d still be alive if she hadn’t persuaded him to marry her.’

  Stella hushed her and pointed to the post office counter, where a few people waited to be served.

  ‘Leave it be, for heaven’s sake, Marjorie,’ she hissed angrily. ‘Let the girl speak before you spread wicked gossip on the word of your Phillip, of all people. There’ll be an explanation, sure to be.’

  ‘For example?’ Marjorie hissed back. People waiting to be served moved slightly closer, hoping for a few words to give a clue as to what was happening. ‘Come on, what can you suggest that would explain Peter Bevan leaving her house at five in the morning?’

  Glaring at the curious women in the queue now murmuring among themselves, she said, ‘A burst pipe? A door that got stuck? Davy unwell and needing the doctor? Anyway,’ she said with a finality that made her forget secrecy and raise her voice, ‘if your Hope is seeing another man it’s none of your business. So my advice is stay out of it. Right?’

  ‘She isn’t my Hope!’

  ‘Proves my point then, doesn’t it?’

  ‘But what if she’d been seeing Peter before Ralph died? What if that first accident wasn’t an accident at all? What if she’d made him so unhappy with her shenanigans that the poor boy decided to—’

  ‘Stop right there! I won’t listen to such nonsense,’ an angry Stella hissed. More loudly, encouraging the waiting customers with an attempt at a smile and a gesture of frustration, she pushed Marjorie, none too gently, into the back room.

  ‘What rot you talk sometimes, Marjorie. Now it's almost time for my mid-morning tea, so stay and have one with me. There’s some cakes, too, left over from your Davy’s party. Kitty brought them for me to take to our country cottage. Help yourself. I’ll be in when I’ve dealt with this lot, and you and I can have a serious chat.’

  A queue had formed and one customer had a gleam in her eyes which had Stella seen it would have worried her. But unaware of anyone having overheard what was said, she cleared the queue and found the makings of tea quite unperturbed.

  Outside the customers took a long time to disperse.

  *

  There were always a number of dances, parties and concerts held during the autumn and Hope expected a few more additions to the number of dresses she already had in her order book. Many women also treated themselves to a new dress to wear on Christmas Day when the family came, after the roast had been dealt with. Besides dresses there were the delicate items of underwear she and Joyce had added to their skills, and these were chosen for gifts. So they prepared themselves for a busy few weeks.

  She had been asked to make a wedding dress for a bride planning a January wedding. Measurements had been taken, the style chosen and the material bought and carefully stored. The order book looked healthy and when Hope and Joyce went over the accounts it was gratifying to see how successful their small business had become.

  Davy and two friends were playing with a train set that had rails going all over the floor, necessitating them crawling under chairs and behind the curtains as they pushed the train and its carriages along with loud chatter and enthusiastic sound effects. Peter had found it in a second-hand shop and presented it as a late birthday present. Davy had been delighted and played with it constantly.

  Hope smiled at Joyce as they watched for a moment. ‘I can’t believe how fortunate I’ve been,’ she said. ‘Davy is so happy, and with your help I’ve made us reasonably secure financially. If everything continues exactly like this for the next twenty years I won’t complain.’

  ‘You have to work long hours to make it happen,’ Joyce reminded her. ‘People might look on and think you’re lucky, but luck is mostly due to effort. If you’d sat and felt sorry for yourself you wouldn’t have been successful, would you?’

  ‘I suppose you’re right. But luck does play a part. I found you and that was a very lucky day.’

  The letter asking her to return the material for the bridal gown came a few days later, towards the end of October. There was no explanation.

  ‘Perhaps the wedding is off?’ Joyce conjectured. ‘It happens.’

  ‘Oh dear, I hope not; that’s seriously sad, isn’t it?’ She shrugged. ‘Perhaps I’ll find out when I take back the material. It’s quite heavy; I think I’ll use Davy’s pushchair, what d’you think?’

  ‘My Gran would have said pushing an empty pram means you’ll soon be pushing a full one,’ Joyce grinned cheekily.

  ‘Not much chance of that,’ Hope said, sharing the joke. ‘But perhaps I’ll ask Gwennie Flint’s mother to take it instead of me, eh? Eighty if she’s a day, so she should be safe!’

  She walked along the road to deliver the material back to its owner, and was surprised when someone she knew well turned away and hurried off as though not wanting to speak to her. Hope shrugged and presumed she hadn’t been seen.

  The afternoon was mild for late October, a weak sun shone and the day had that particular autumnal atmosphere. Dampness underfoot, a crispness in the clear air and the hint of smoke from garden fires. She knew she was happy, and could look into the future filled with optimism. Then suddenly the buoyant mood left her. Ralph shouldn’t be missing this; he should be here to enjoy this wonderful afternoon.

  ‘What’s up?’ Stella called, as, loaded with tins and cleaning materials, she made her way to the allotment. ‘You can’t be miserable on such a lovely day as this. Come to the cottage, and I’ll make you a cup of tea. Cure for all ills, my cups of tea and the whiff of freshly dug soil.’

  ‘No, I’d better deliver this in case I get it dirty.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Material for a wedding dress, an order that has been cancelled. I hope it isn’t the wedding that’s been cancelled.’

  ‘Me too. Sad that is. Who’s it for then?’

  ‘I’m returning it to Mrs Green. Have you heard about the wedding being cancelled?’

  Stella shook her head. ‘It’s still on so far as I know.’

  ‘Then why has she asked for the material
back?’

  A shrug from Stella, who quickly changed the subject. ‘What’s making you miserable then? Losing the order?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know, the lovely day and Ralph not here to enjoy it. I miss him, and to tell the truth, Stella, I feel responsible on days like this. If I hadn’t insisted, persuaded him we should leave his parents’ house and find a place of our own, he’d still be here, wouldn’t he? Marjorie is right, my behaviour was responsible, I did kill him.’

  Stella hushed her. ‘For heaven’s sake, girl, don’t talk like that! Rubbish it is, but there’s plenty only too willing to listen to gossip. And joyfully repeat it! Look, go and get rid of the parcel and meet me at our country cottage. You need five minutes’ peace and a good cup of tea.’

  ‘Joyce is minding Davy, I have to get back.’

  ‘Five minutes won’t harm.’

  Stella set out the little folding table and waited for Hope to come. She needed to know just what was going on. ‘If that Marjorie’s been spreading wicked rumours about the girl she’ll get the sharp edge of my tongue,’ she muttered to Scamp. Surely no one had heard her complaints that day in the post office?

  Hope knocked on Mrs Green’s door, and, smiling, was about to step inside. To her surprise the lady took the parcel, thanked her abruptly and closed the door. Hope was so shocked that, forgetting the invitation to Stella’s country cottage, she hurried back to Badgers Brook wondering what had gone wrong.

  *

  When Phillip told his mother he was going back to Connie, she pleaded with him to stay.

  ‘It’s no use, I can’t work here, the ambience isn’t right. I need to get back to my studio,’ he said.