A Girl Called Hope

  *

  Matthew found work in a wholesalers, selling office equipment, and, after two weeks, filled with renewed optimism, he went home for the weekend to try and persuade Sally to move to London with him.

  ‘No, Matthew. I’d need to have complete confidence in you to leave everything I know and start again. We have a good life here, Megan and Olwen are settled, Mum and Dad are close when we need help, they try not to intrude but they’re there to provide support in every way. I consider myself a capable woman, but if there’s a slight problem I can rely on them. They’re always there and, sadly, you are not.’

  ‘I will be from now on. I promise things will change.’

  ‘You’ve lost my trust, Matthew. I don’t feel able to put myself and the girls in your hands and move so far away from everything and everyone we know.’

  ‘Then I’ll leave the job and come home. I’m sure to find something closer to home. I want to be with you and Megan and Olwen.’ He looked at her face, closed in with determination not to soften towards him, and regret and shame almost overwhelmed him. This pretty woman, whom he had changed from a kind, caring partner into this cold, determined stranger, who had given so freely of her love, had been treated worse than a servant by him, and the realization of how close he was to losing her made him weep inside.

  She said nothing in reply and he went on. ‘Will you help me find work? I don’t really care what I do, as long as it brings in enough to keep us out of the red. I realize I’ve taken advantage of your parents’ generosity and I don’t want to depend on them any longer. I want to look after my three beautiful, talented girls. Please, Sally, give me a chance to prove it, and help me.’

  She turned her head and stared at him. He smiled encouragingly but there was no answering smile, her eyes were cold, her lips thin and tight. ‘There’s a vacancy for a salesman in a men’s outfitters.’

  ‘I’ll apply,’ he said eagerly. ‘Tell me where and I’ll go straight away.’ In his heart he felt a deep regret. Why couldn’t he find another job as a rep, travelling from town to town, meeting new people and seeing new places? Working locally and having no excuse for spending time away from the house was almost like a prison sentence. Pretend as he might, the loss of freedom, the confinement of hours spent at home would be difficult. But the alternatives were worse. He was no use on his own; he needed a base, a loving wife to come home to when he needed comfort.

  ‘I’ll do it,’ he said, as much to convince himself as his wife.

  *

  Phillip opened the street door, walked up the stairs and knocked on the door of Fiona’s flat. When a voice asked him to identify himself he found his own voice was little more than a croak. It took a second attempt before he could say calmly, ‘Fiona, it’s me, Phillip. Please can I have a word? I need to apologize and try to explain.’

  The door was opened and Fiona stared at him before turning away, allowing him to step inside. She had moved to the doorway of the tiny kitchen to stand beside a tall, elegantly dressed man, who at once placed a proprietary arm on her shoulders.

  ‘Sorry if I’m intruding, I won’t keep you long. D’you think we could meet for a meal, or perhaps just a drink, so I can make my apology and perhaps explain?’ He looked at the man who stood silently beside her and added. ‘If your friend has no objection.’

  ‘Tomorrow, twelve thirty? Lunch at Giuliani’s?’

  ‘Thank you,’ he said, and, nodding at the man and giving Fiona a nervous smile, he backed out.

  He was there early. The restaurant was small and he had booked to make sure of getting a table. Exactly on time she walked in. She wore an outrageously bold red and orange dress, with a tight-fitting top and a skirt that floated around her long, slender legs. There was a band of the same material in her hair and hanging down to her shoulder. Her dark green leather handbag was enormous and matched her ridiculously high-heeled shoes. She looked utterly stunning. How could he have let her go?

  Eyes followed her, some with envy, most with admiration. Phillip stood to greet her and move her chair to allow her to sit, and felt pride such as he’d never known as she leaned over the table and kissed his cheek before sitting down.

  ‘You are beautiful,’ he said softly. ‘Absolutely beautiful. I’ve never known anyone like you.’

  ‘Of course you haven’t. I am unique,’ she said, matter-of-factly.

  Waiters fluttered around them, anxious to please, and it brought back memories of the few weeks they had been together, when her obvious importance, exceptional beauty and dazzling outfits had brought them running to serve her. When they had ordered and drinks had been poured she looked at him and asked, ‘Well, Phillip. What did you want to say to me?’ Before he could gather together the opening words of his apology she went on. ‘I suppose you thought the child wasn’t yours and I was trying to trick you into marrying me.’

  ‘No, of course not. Er, well yes. I might as well be honest with you or there’s no point in taking up your time. The truth is, it was a shock, and I doubted it could be mine – after all, we’d known each other just a few weeks. I spoke to Matthew and be convinced me that you carrying my child so soon after we’d met was unlikely. So, like the fool I am, I ran away.’

  She smiled then. ‘You were right, it wasn’t yours. But I thought you’d make a reasonable husband, for a while at least, and tried to convince you. I failed, obviously.’

  ‘You’ve found someone else? The man in your flat?’

  ‘That was Montague, my brother. No, I’ve decided I can cope alone. My parents have been remarkably civil about the whole thing; in fact, they’re quite looking forward to being grandparents. So, no harm done, Phillip. It was fun, though, wasn’t it?’

  He reached into his pockets and handed her the presents she had given him. ‘I want you to have these back. I took them under false pretences.’

  ‘False pretences? We were both playing that game. No, keep them as souvenirs of a pleasant few weeks.’

  They ate their meal, and while he paid the enormous bill, which would empty his wallet completely, she left, weaving her way through the tables, stopping several times to blow kisses, and giving a final sad wave from the doorway.

  Phillip was like a ship without a rudder: he didn’t know what to do or where to go, so he went back to the toy shop. Later he wrote to his parents to give them an address where he intended to stay for at least the immediate future. Perhaps, he thought foolishly, if he stayed in the same place he might see Fiona again, if only to make others envious by waving to her, blowing a kiss and sharing in the flamboyance of her personality for a moment or two.

  *

  Marjorie read Phillip’s letter and showed it to Hope. ‘It seems he’s settled in London and won’t be coming home.’

  ‘Then you and Father-in-law can buy a small house without needing to plan for more than an occasional visit,’ Hope replied. ‘Two bedrooms will be plenty.’

  ‘What he buys will have nothing to do with me. I’ll choose a place to suit myself. Freddy can go and live with Betty Connors.’

  Hope was still a little afraid of Marjorie, although she usually managed to hide the fact, but over this separation she knew she had to be strong. Freddy and Marjorie were both miserable and lonely. The fun of choosing a new home should have brought them closer, but since the revelations about Betty Connors they had never sat down and talked. She spoke of her concerns to Kitty. ‘I wish I could lock them in somewhere, so they had no alternative but to talk!’

  ‘Can you trust them to look after Davy?’ Kitty asked. ‘Telling them both they are responsible for him will mean they will have to stay.’

  *

  ‘Mother-in-law, I have to go out this afternoon, will you stay with Davy for an hour?’ Hope asked, as they prepared their midday meal.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Father-in-law,’ she asked Freddy when she took Davy for his walk, ‘I have to go out for an hour later, will you come in and keep an eye on Davy? He loves to see you. Oh, and
there’s a letter from Phillip you will want to read.’

  She let Freddy in while Marjorie was upstairs washing Davy after his rather sticky lunch and darted down the path to meet Kitty. ‘Well, I haven’t locked them both in but it’s as close as I can get!’ She raised her hands showing crossed fingers. ‘I just hope they don’t start fighting.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Kitty said with a laugh. ‘Bob’s working in the garden and he’ll listen out for the sound of World War Three breaking out.’

  *

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Marjorie demanded, as she came down the stairs with Davy.

  ‘Grandfather!’ Davy ran to greet Freddy, who swept him up in his arms.

  ‘I’ve come to play snakes and ladders with my grandson, haven’t I, Davy?’

  ‘I’m looking after Davy.’

  ‘Hope asked me. Now, lovely boy, where’s the box of games?’ Without looking at his wife, Freddy asked, ‘Where’s Phillip’s letter?’

  Marjorie threw it on to the table beside him and he read it in silence. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper, which he, too, threw on to the table. Marjorie unfolded it to reveal details of a detached cottage not far from the bus stop at the end of the lane.

  ‘Why are you showing this to me?’

  ‘It’s large enough for us. Phillip won’t be coming back except perhaps for a visit. So I went in today and made an offer.’

  ‘You have no right to make decisions for us.’

  Freddy gave a long theatrical sigh. ‘Davy, my boy, your grandmother can be such a difficult old lady. But even she can’t carry on feeling sorry for herself indefinitely. Everyone’s getting weary of listening to her. Even the kindest of people tire of a moaner in the end. She and I belong together and the alternative is loneliness for us both.’ He spread the details of the house in front of Marjorie and smoothed it out carefully. ‘Now the plan is this,’ he said, still talking to Davy. ‘Your grandmother’s been unhappy for quite long enough and today it stops. We’re moving into that house and you can have a swing and a see-saw in the garden for when you visit. And if Uncle Bob and Uncle Colin will help us, I thought we could make a tree house where you can invite your friends. There’ll be a basket on a rope which you can lower when you want food and we can fill it with cakes and sandwiches and you can haul it up into your house. What d’you think?’

  Marjorie said nothing, but with occasional sly glances Freddy could see the tension easing away from her.

  When Hope returned, Marjorie opened the door and said softly, ‘Father-in-law and I need to take a walk. I’ll be back in time for tea.’

  ‘I found some ghastly looking cooked meat in the butcher’s shop. I daren’t think what it’s made from, but I’ll make chips and set the table for the seven of us. Connie, Geoff and Peter will join us. All together like one big happy family. What about that, Davy?’

  ‘I’m going to have a tree house,’ Davy said.

  The meal started off in a subdued way, but once Freddy started talking about the cottage he intended to buy, Marjorie began to open up and was soon arguing about what new furnishings she would need. Miraculously, the purchase of the cottage, although as yet unseen by Marjorie, seemed to be a fait accompli. Whatever had been said during their walk seemed to have sorted out their difficulties.

  ‘I’m thinking of taking on a property too,’ Peter surprised them by announcing. ‘It isn’t for definite, mind, I have to discuss it with others first, but there’s a shop for rent at the corner of Gladstone Road and there’s good accommodation above. Only a small garden but there’s a shed for the cart and nice stable for Jason.’ He looked at Hope as he said, ‘You’ll come and look at it, Hope? See what you think?’

  Marjorie took a deep breath as though about to comment, and from the look on her face the remarks would have been unkind. But a glance from Freddy and his hand gripping her arm held her back, and instead she said, ‘Yes, go and look, Hope. I’m sure Peter will value your opinion.’

  ‘Why a shop, Peter?’ Hope enquired. ‘You don’t need one, as you sell from the cart. You’re out all day so you wouldn’t be there to man it, unless you’re planning to sell the cart, and Jason?’

  This thought horrified Davy and he began to wail. ‘You can’t sell Jason, I n-e-e-ed him,’ he complained.

  ‘I’ll never sell Jason, he’ll live with me always,’ Peter promised, ‘but I’m thinking of giving up the round, selling it perhaps, it’s quite profitable.’

  They discussed his plan for a while, with Marjorie uncritical and even offering suggestions on what he might stock. Before he left he’d extracted a promise for both Hope and Davy to go with him to look at the property.

  Bedtime came and there was an uneasiness in both Freddy’s and Marjorie’s movements. Neither seemed to know whether they were together or still separated by the hurt and quarrel.

  Marjorie eventually said goodnight to Connie and Hope, and said quite firmly to Freddy, ‘I’ll see you in a day or so!’ before going up to her room; Connie followed soon after. Freddy was about to leave for his rented room but Hope said, ‘Won’t you be staying, Father-in-law? I’ve got a few illegal eggs to boil for breakfast. Peter got them from one of the farms he visits to buy stock. There are plenty of blankets for the couch.’

  Whether it was embarrassment or whether he was just unsure of how Marjorie would react, he stood up and kissed her on the cheek, thanked her for what she was trying to do and left to go back to the guest house.

  Upstairs Marjorie heard the door close and wished she could be less difficult, and wondered sadly if she would ever learn.

  *

  At the last moment Freddy turned away from his destination, unable to face the clean, adequate but comfortless room. Ty Mawr was still empty, awaiting its new owners, and he had the key to the shed that Marjorie had converted into a studio for their so-called artist son. Why shouldn’t he be a squatter? He was homeless just like Arthur and Catherine Gleaner had been, wasn’t he?

  *

  The next morning Marjorie went out early and knocked on the side door of the Ship and Compass. ‘I want to talk to you,’ she announced with surprising calm. Betty was surprised to see her, and, taking a deep breath and preparing herself for a verbal attack, invited her inside. The first person Marjorie saw was Freddy.

  He was wearing trousers but no socks and no shirt, and around his shoulders was a towel. His hair was mussed up from being dried and not yet combed. He stared at her, waiting for her to speak. At once she turned and began to hurry towards the door. He lunged forward and held her arm. ‘Just for once in your life will you stop stalking off all fuss and feathers and damned well listen!’

  ‘Freddy slept in the shed at the back of Ty Mawr last night,’ Betty told her. ‘He was unable to face another night in the room at Elsie’s. He came here an hour ago and I offered him breakfast and a bath.’ She looked from one to the other and added, ‘I’ll go and start frying the bacon, shall I? Mostly fat it is, mind, but you’re welcome to join us, Marjorie.’

  Instinctively Marjorie shook her head. ‘I won’t be staying.’

  ‘Yes,’ Freddy said firmly. ‘Yes, you will. Thank you, Betty.’

  The three of them sat down and ate, although it was doubtful whether any of them tasted a single mouthful. Marjorie was silent, and it was Freddy and Betty who talked, not about themselves, or the difficulties facing Freddy and Marjorie, but about the various customers that spent time in the bar. Although determined not to enjoy herself, trying to hold on to her anger and resentment, Marjorie had to smile as some of the more eccentric characters were discussed.

  When she left, Freddy went with her. Taking her arm and pulling it through his own, he led her to the bridge from where Ralph had jumped to his death.

  ‘We’ve lost so much, don’t you think we ought to hang on to the little we’ve got left?’ he asked as they stared down at the rails twinkling innocently in the winter sun.

  ‘I want to look at the cottag
e.’

  Content with her minimal response, he walked beside her down the approach to the road. For such a quarrelsome woman with opinions on everything, she said very little when words really counted.

  *

  The morning of Connie and Geoff’s wedding started cloudy but there was the promise that once the early greyness lifted they would have a perfect day. The ceremony was arranged for eleven o’clock and at ten Connie was dressed in her beautiful gown of dark-blue taffeta, and Hope and Joyce were running around setting out the food for the reception to be held that evening.

  Peter had borrowed chairs and a few trestle tables from the church hall and was putting them up for Marjorie to cover with white cloths and plates of food wrapped in greaseproof paper and moist tea towels. From before eight o’clock the door had stood wide open and callers had delivered gifts: wedding presents and offerings of food to swell the evening’s celebration. Stella came, wearing a frilly hat with a drooping brim that had been to more weddings than the vicar; Colin wore a smart suit, which if a little tight was impressive on a man who usually wore either old or new uniform, depending on whether he was going to work at the railway station or on the allotment.

  Freddy had taken Davy for a walk to enable the others to get on, and he went to show him the cottage which Marjorie had, somewhat edgily, agreed they should buy.

  At half past ten they went back in time to see Connie walking down the stairs in her lovely gown and sparkling headdress. Hope, unable to get to a mirror, was trying to fix her hat on her curls. Joyce was wearing a pretty two-piece in a soft milky grey taffeta. Kitty, in a borrowed hat that constantly fell over her eyes, was trying to help and getting in everyone’s way, and Marjorie was sitting on the couch dressed ready to leave and smiling at the happy confusion.