At half past eight there was a knock at the door and before I had answered he came into the room. He was smiling and had a parcel wrapped in newspaper tucked under his arm.
‘Good morning, girls,’ he said. ‘I hope you slept well. I’ve brought you some food.’
Grace stretched under the blankets and then sat up, looking bewildered. Then she smiled, one of her wide, dazzling smiles.
‘Breakfast!’ she said, as if it were the most wonderful thing in the world.
The man smiled back at her. ‘I’ll wait outside while you dress,’ he said.
As soon as he had gone, Grace gave me a warning look. ‘Nora, at least try to look as if you’re grateful. You should be. He gave us somewhere to stay and now he’s brought us food. We would have been lost without him. We’d still be walking about the streets with those women. Make an effort, won’t you?’
She rummaged in her pillowcase, pulled out a skirt and slipped into the little bathroom that was just off the main room. After a moment I heard the lavatory flush and then the splash of water into the basin. She was tidying herself up for him, I thought dully, making herself look nice. I bit my lip and waited for them to appear through their two doors, either side of the fireplace, like a Christmas play in the village hall.
He had brought a packet of tea, sugar and milk, as well as bread, butter and the first jar of marmalade that I’d seen since the start of the war. Grace was impressed.
‘You must have used all your coupons up on us,’ she said. ‘It’s very kind of you.’
‘I couldn’t let you go hungry,’ he said, sounding pleased.
She went over to the table with its pile of packages. ‘Let’s move some of these boxes so we can sit down.’
‘There aren’t enough chairs,’ he said quickly. ‘Why not spread that blanket on the floor? We can put the food in the middle and take a corner each.’
‘Like a picnic!’ she said. ‘What a nice idea.’
I took the blanket from around my shoulders but didn’t move from the chair.
‘Why don’t you put the kettle on? Here’s some matches,’ said the man, throwing me a box. I was forced to stand to catch them, and once I was on my feet I had no option but to do as he said. I snatched up the bag of groceries, pushed through the ragged curtain into the kitchen and stood in front of the stove, scowling at the matchbox in my hand. I was careless with the kettle, banging it against the sink as I filled it with water and crashing it down onto the gas ring. I scraped the match along the side of the box and lit the gas. When the kettle had boiled I made tea in a pot that I had found in the little cupboard that seemed to serve as a pantry. There was no milk jug so I put the bottle next to the teapot on a tray and pushed my way back through the curtain.
It was odd to see a grown man sitting on the floor. His legs were too long for it and stuck out awkwardly in front of him, but he didn’t seem to care. He had taken off his jacket, as if he felt perfectly at home, and was cutting slices of bread. I sat as far away from him as I could.
‘Oh dear,’ said Grace. ‘We’ve only got two plates between us.’
‘That was all I could find,’ I said. ‘You and I can share.’
I looked at him over my teacup while Grace spread butter and marmalade on the bread. He was older than I’d thought when we saw him in the café but the war didn’t seem to have touched him like the other people I’d seen in the streets. He didn’t seem at all anxious, but rather jovial, with deep lines around his eyes as if he laughed a lot. Nor did he seem to be hungry, eating only half a slice of bread and marmalade and leaving the rest of it on his plate.
He took out a silver case, which sprung open to show a neat row of cigarettes, and held it out towards us. I shook my head and carried on eating but after a moment’s hesitation Grace picked one out, holding it awkwardly between her fingers as he took a lighter from his pocket and flicked at it with his thumb.
He took charge of the conversation from the start. His name was Mr Masters, he said, but we must call him Bernard.
‘Did you sleep well?’ he asked.
Grace nodded eagerly.
‘You’re welcome to stay for as long as you like.’
‘We’ll be moving on after breakfast,’ I said.
He blew out a ring of smoke, a little ‘o’ that drifted over my head. ‘Why leave? Where will you go? It’s hard to find rooms in London, you know.’
‘We’re going to look for a ladies’ hostel.’
‘What? And surround yourselves with a pack of factory girls?’ He looked Grace up and down. ‘Forgive me for jumping to conclusions but they’re hardly your sort.’
I didn’t like him thinking about the sort of girls we were. ‘We might go to the people in charge of housing,’ I said, trying to sound as if I knew what I was talking about. ‘My mother’s house was hit by a V1. They’d have to find us somewhere.’
He chuckled. ‘So you’re willing to go and stand in a queue for hours and fill in all those forms, then get a talking-to from some busybody who wants to know everything about you? You’ll have to prove it all, you know; who you are, when you were bombed and why they should help you rather than any of the other poor souls with nowhere to go.’
Grace looked troubled. ‘Nora, we haven’t got anything to prove who we are. We won’t be able to do anything without that.’
‘She’s right,’ said the man. ‘You haven’t a hope.’
I knew she was right. I had been in such a hurry to get out of Kent that I hadn’t stopped to think about it. I felt stupid and small. Without identity cards and ration books we were nobody. It was as if we didn’t exist.
The man blew another smoke ring. ‘You’re in luck. I can get my hands on some ration books.’ He got to his feet and walked over to the table, taking a bunch of keys from his pocket and using them to slice open one of the boxes. He took out two green books and threw them to us.
‘These will see you through until I can get you some new identity cards. Shouldn’t take long.’
I stared at him. It was as if he had anticipated everything that we might need. I didn’t like it. I didn’t trust Mr Masters and his generosity. No-one gave anyone a place to stay for free. I had learned that from Reverend Rivers. There was always a price to pay and I was almost certain I knew what it was this time.
Grace wasn’t worried. She was looking up at him as if he had just performed a miracle.
‘That’s so kind of you. We just didn’t think. We left in such a hurry—’ I scowled at her and she stopped mid-sentence, blushing.
‘But we don’t want to trouble you any further,’ I said firmly. ‘We’ll be quite all right.’
He looked amused again. ‘It wouldn’t be any trouble. Having you to stay would be a great help. I use this flat for storing a few things that I sell on from time to time. You could keep an eye on it all for me.’
‘There!’ said Grace. ‘We could be useful.’
The man went over to a chest of drawers and pulled the top one open. As he turned around I gasped and Grace took hold of my arm. He was holding a gun in his right hand, a stubby black gun that was pointing straight at us.
That’s us done for, I thought. We’ve messed it all up.
But he was smiling. ‘You can’t be too careful these days, girls. You never know who’s about. There are things in these boxes that people would like to get their hands on. You need to be able to defend yourselves. There’s some ammunition in the drawer. Look, I’ll show you.’
I felt Grace’s fingers pressing into my arm. I was angry with him for scaring us and with myself for showing that I was frightened.
‘It’s all right,’ I said coldly. ‘We know how to shoot. We did it all the time in Kent.’
He laughed. ‘I should have known. Anyway, it’s here if you need it. If you decide to stay, of course.’
I watched Grace take a puff on her cigarette. As she exhaled, she coughed, unused to the smoke. Her awkwardness made me soften. I could see that she was relieved at the though
t of not having to tramp the streets looking for a place to stay. I didn’t want to make her walk another night past all the women in the doorways. If we were in the flat I could look after her. We would be as close as we had been in Kent, perhaps even closer. Mr Bernard Masters might get us our papers and put a roof over our heads but it would be me who shared the bed with Grace at night.
I sighed. ‘All right,’ I said. ‘We’ll stay. For a while, at any rate.’
Nineteen
DAVID BROUGHT ORDER AND ROUTINE TO THE HOUSEHOLD. Everything had its place. Rose and I had fallen into the habit of living around the baby, sleeping when she did and eating easy food; small snacks, soup and boiled eggs. Now mealtimes were fixed and David spent hours in the kitchen, cooking proper things; meat and vegetables, sometimes even puddings. I hadn’t eaten like that since George died.
‘Just finish as much of it as you can,’ he said. ‘You need it. So does Rose, for feeding the baby.’
Rose had been shy about that, the first time. When Grace started to cry, she had blushed and scrambled to her feet, ready to take her somewhere else.
‘It’s all right,’ said David. ‘I’m a nurse. I don’t mind.’
She shot me a look that I understood exactly, then lifted her shirt, exposing as little of herself as she could. He busied himself with my medicines. They came after every meal and I swallowed them down as I was told. As he had promised at the start, he was always there to help. I had his undivided attention whether I wanted it or not.
A comfortable complicity had grown between Rose and me as we hid ourselves away. David brought the world back into the house. When he cooked, the sound of unfamiliar music drifted up the stairs. He read out stories from the newspaper and asked us our opinions. He brought brightly coloured magazines that looked out of place next to my old furniture. He tried to persuade Rose to go out, sending her to the shops for groceries.
‘The fresh air’s good for the baby,’ he said. ‘And you’ve been doing a lot. You should take some time off.’
She didn’t like his concern. Each time he made a suggestion I saw traces of her old stubbornness flicker in her eyes.
‘He’s meant to be here for you,’ she muttered. ‘I don’t need a nurse. I can look after myself.’
But he didn’t give up.
‘Haven’t you got any friends with children?’ he asked one day. ‘What about your ante-natal classes? Didn’t you like anyone there?’
Rose and I exchanged glances. She shook her head.
‘There’s a group at the library on Fridays,’ he said. ‘You know, for parents and babies. You should go. You might meet people.’
‘Maybe,’ she said. ‘I might.’
One morning soon after, David passed the newspaper to Rose.
‘Have a look at that,’ he said. ‘There, at the bottom of the page, in the box. What do you think?’
She glanced at it. ‘Which one?’
‘The one for the special screening at the cinema. You can take babies. I think it’s a great idea.’
Rose looked wary. ‘I think it’d be weird.’
‘Why?’
She shrugged. ‘I’d feel funny going on my own, just with her.’
There was a pause.
‘What if I came with you?’ he said.
She shook her head. ‘It’s on Tuesday. That’s your day off.’
‘I wouldn’t mind,’ he said. ‘I like going to the cinema.’
‘But not with a baby. She’d probably scream all the way through.’
‘She wouldn’t be the only one.’
I watched her try to think of another excuse. ‘What about Nora?’ she said. ‘We can’t leave her on her own.’
‘The cinema’s not far. We wouldn’t be gone long.’
Rose looked at me uncertainly. ‘What do you think?’
I looked forward to Tuesdays, when David went out, leaving just the two of us together like before. But I liked the thought of being on my own for a while, to be able to gather my thoughts without fear of interruption.
‘I sleep in the afternoons,’ I said. ‘You should go.’
And so the following Tuesday they went. It was odd to see David out of uniform. He seemed a different person in corduroy trousers and a sweater, just like any other young man. Rose was dressed in her usual black, but had added a green scarf and gloves. Grace was wrapped up in layers, her arms and legs sticking out stiffly from her body.
Just before they left, David put a glass of water and a bottle of pills on the table next to the bed.
‘I think this should be all you need,’ he said. ‘Only take the pills if the pain gets really bad. They’re very strong. Okay?’
‘All right,’ I said.
‘Will you bring Nora the radio?’ said Rose.
When David had gone to get it from the kitchen, she took my hand. ‘Are you sure you don’t mind?’ she said.
I smiled at her. ‘Don’t worry about me. I’m looking forward to a bit of time on my own.’
David came back with the radio. ‘Are you ready?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I think I’ve got everything. Perhaps you could sort out Grace’s pushchair. It’s in the hall.’
‘I could carry her,’ he said. ‘She’s not heavy and it isn’t far. It’ll be quicker to leave after the film without it.’
‘Oh,’ she said. ‘I hadn’t thought of that. All right.’
He held out his arms. ‘Pass her over.’
The baby looked very small against his chest.
‘Goodbye, Nora,’ said Rose. ‘We’ll be back at teatime.’
‘See you later,’ said David.
‘Goodbye,’ I said.
For a moment, the sounds of their departure seemed to hover in the air and then silence settled over the house. For a while I lay very still, savouring my solitude. Then I switched on the radio. I was just in time.
‘This is our classic serial,’ a woman said. ‘Great Expectations, by Charles Dickens.’
I settled back to listen to words that I knew almost by heart. It was so soothing that I fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.
When I woke again it was dark. As I groped for the switch to the bedside lamp, my fingers brushed against the radio dial and music blared, a sudden shock. As I scrabbled to turn it off, I knocked over the glass of water. It spilled over the table and dripped down onto the carpet. I swore out loud, cursing my clumsiness.
The silence that I had relished earlier roared in my ears like the sea. The house seemed very empty and I remembered what it was like to be lonely. My head was beginning to throb and I was thirsty for the water that I’d spilled. I suddenly understood how much I depended on David and Rose. I had come to rely on them for everything. It was a horrible thought. I had always made sure that I could manage. I had always looked after myself. This helplessness was a new humiliation. I couldn’t stand the prospect of any more of it.
I was getting thirstier by the minute. I wondered when they would be back. I turned my head to check the time on the little alarm clock that stood on the bedside table. As I caught sight of the bottle next to it, I realized that I wasn’t entirely powerless. There was something I could do. David had warned me that the pills were strong. My body wouldn’t put up much resistance, I was sure. I reached for the bottle and brought it close so I could read the label.
Strictly for use under medical supervision.
David had twisted open the lid, knowing that I wouldn’t have the strength to break the lock. I would be able to do it if I wanted.
I tried to think. I wanted to put an end to the memories. I wanted to feel nothing. There were things I wanted to say to Rose, important things, but I knew that this was probably the only chance I would get to end it myself. I remembered what she had said about her father shrinking away into nothing, about things getting worse. Perhaps it was kinder to spare her from having to see that again.
Don’t make excuses, I thought. You want to finish it for your own good, not hers.
I tipped up the bottle. Three white pills fell into my hand. I stared at them. He hadn’t left enough. I groaned and let them drop to the floor.
I thought of the gun, still loaded, on the other side of the room, hidden in the bookshelf. But I knew I wouldn’t be able to do it. I wouldn’t have the strength to pull the trigger. I hadn’t even been able to pin the remembrance poppy onto my coat in November, months before, my swollen fingers fumbling until I had dropped it.
There was nothing I could do. I had no choice but to lie still and wait for them to return.
When at last they came, they smelled of fresh air and cold. Rose’s cheeks were pink and she was bubbling with excitement.
‘Nora!’ she said. ‘I’m so sorry we’re late. We had something to eat after the film. We were starving. Are you all right? Have you been okay?’
‘Of course,’ I said.
She came to sit on the bed. ‘I’m so glad. I wish you could have come with us. We had such a great time.’
‘Did you take any of those pills?’ asked David, moving over to the bedside table.
‘I’m sorry,’ I muttered. ‘They’re on the floor. I knocked them over by mistake, with the water.’
‘Never mind. It’s good that you didn’t need to take them. I’ll get a cloth.’
When he had gone, Rose took off her coat and threw it over the chair.
‘Oh Nora,’ she said. ‘It was so nice to be out of the house.’
I forced a smile.
‘It made me think that it might be okay. I could do those things that David talked about, like those groups at the library. He might be right. Maybe I should try to get out a bit.’
I felt as lonely as I had that afternoon.
‘Oh, I nearly forgot,’ she said. ‘We bought you a present.’ She reached into a plastic bag and drew out a plant pot.
‘Look,’ she said. ‘Crocuses. They’re just about to come up.’
Days of Grace Page 19