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Better Days Will Come

Page 27

by Pam Weaver


  And now all this stuff with Rita. The silly girl just didn’t understand. She honestly thought Emilio loved her. How could he? What sort of a life would Rita have with him as a husband? Grace refused to cry; besides, she had no more tears left. Dear God, she prayed, please … please help me sort out this mess.

  A couple of minutes later, Rita came downstairs with a suitcase.

  Grace leapt to her feet. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘Anywhere but here,’ said Rita. ‘I shall go to Liliana and Salvatore. They’ll take me in. After all, I’m family now that I’m married to their nephew.’ She paused, her hand on the door latch. ‘Oh and before you ask, Mum,’ she said, she voice shrill with anger, ‘yes, I did have a wonderful wedding. I didn’t invite my mother because I knew she would object. You see, she hates me being happy. By the way, I saved you a piece of cake. It’s in the larder.’ She walked out into the darkness, only leaning back in the doorway to add, ‘Oh, and don’t bother to try and persuade me to come back. I shan’t be coming here again. Not ever.’

  Twenty-Eight

  It took Grace about two weeks to realise that nobody was speaking to her. The night Rita left, she didn’t sleep. Everything was whirling around her head and even when she did drop off somewhere around four thirty, she was troubled by dreams.

  She had gone around to the café the next day and it was as much as she could do to be civil to Salvatore. Their conversation began in hushed tones over the counter.

  ‘Salvatore, I want to see my daughter.’

  Salvatore shrugged. ‘She no here.’

  ‘Then where is she?’

  ‘She is with her ’usband.’ He grinned. ‘It is her ’oneymoon.’

  Grace took a deep breath. ‘How could you let this happen, Salvatore?’

  He came around the counter and took her arm. Despite the cold, they stood in the alleyway at the side of the building. ‘It no my fault,’ he said waving his hands expansively. ‘Rita say she love him. What can I do?’

  ‘But he doesn’t love her, does he?’ Grace challenged.

  ‘Emilio is a good boy,’ Salvatore insisted.

  ‘Why didn’t you talk to me about it?’ Grace said bitterly but he had no answer. ‘I’ll tell you why, Salvatore. You tricked her, didn’t you? You took advantage of a young and innocent girl. I thought we were friends. I don’t think I can ever forgive you for this. Now, where is my daughter?’

  Salvatore’s face clouded. ‘She gone away,’ he insisted. ‘Now you go.’

  ‘I give you fair warning, Salvatore. I shall move heaven and earth to get this marriage annulled.’

  She saw the alarm in his face. ‘Rita say the Gretna Green no need permission of the mummy.’

  ‘That’s as maybe,’ said Grace, ‘but when the authorities hear what you’ve done …’

  Salvatore’s face grew dark. ‘You leave,’ he interrupted loudly. ‘You leave now or I tell the ’hole world of Mr Finley!’ Grace stared at him in horror. ‘Now go, you go.’

  As he propelled her along the alleyway she was suddenly seized with the idea that Rita might even be within earshot. ‘Rita,’ she screamed. ‘If you’re in there, whenever you want to, you can come home. I love you, Rita. I love you.’

  Liliana had stayed in the kitchen the whole time, but as Grace stood in the road outside the café where Salvatore had left her, she could hear furious shouting and the sound of breaking china.

  Grace went home and cried angry frustrated tears. When she was all cried out, she washed her face. Crying does no good at all, she told herself. Now pull yourself together and work out what you’re going to do about all this. Brave words, but half an hour later she still couldn’t think of a single thing.

  There was something else troubling her. She had mice. She could hear them quite clearly, their hurried squeaking breaking into the silent night watches with an urgency that had to be stopped. But she didn’t know what to do. If they heard her they ran away and she was never really sure where they were nesting. In the end, she got up early, and moved stealthily around the house. She finally decided that the noise was coming from Rita’s bedroom. She was beginning to hate that room. The two unused beds silently accused her of being a bad mother. She knew a good mother shouldn’t keep her children tied to her apron strings but both of her daughters had left her for good. Where had she gone wrong? Perhaps she’d been too hard on them both. She’d all but driven them away. If only she could go back in time.

  She sat quietly on Rita’s bed for some time and then the scurrying began again. It seemed to be coming from under thewindow. She ran her fingers along the wood and found a knothole. When she put her finger inside the whole thing moved slightly and the mice went quiet.

  It was no good just opening up and diving inside. The mice would simply scatter all over the house and that would be ten times worse. She would have to ask some of her neighbours for help. If a crowd of them got together, they’d soon rid her of the mice.

  Over the next few days, Grace tried to ask for help but everybody seemed too busy to stop. It was then that she noticed a change in the atmosphere. Friends and neighbours didn’t return her friendly wave and when she called out, ‘Good morning’, their response was muted. She’d been sent to Coventry. She had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts and humiliation she hadn’t even noticed. If she had any doubts they came to an end the morning she walked into Potter and Bailey’s. A little huddle of women parted as they caught sight of her and she knew they’d been talking about her. Something rose up inside her. She wasn’t just put out or cross, she was angry. These people were supposed to be her friends. When had she ever turned her back on them? For years, three of them, Elsie Dawson, Mary Minty and old Mrs Oakley had spent Christmas Day at her house. Until her mother took ill, she’d given them stuff from her little courtyard garden, done their shopping when they were ill, got them good cleaning jobs to help ends meet. She’d washed their heavy blackout curtains and made draught excluders for their doors. And here they were turning their backs on her and whispering behind patched woollen gloves.

  ‘If anyone has something to say,’ she began in ringing tones, ‘you can say it to my face.’

  A few noses went a little higher in the air but nobody moved.

  ‘Why are you doing this?’ Grace challenged. ‘What have I ever done to you? Come on, what’s this all about?’

  It was Elsie who turned around first. ‘Oh if it isn’t Mrs High and Mighty,’ she sneered. ‘Stand back, girls, let the lady through.’

  Grace felt her face go scarlet. Behind the counter, Mr Seagrove looked increasingly uncomfortable. ‘Come, come, ladies, let’s keep calm, shall we? Now, who’s next?’

  Elsie was standing, feet akimbo and her arms folded under her bust. ‘We wondered how you managed to keep the rent man happy all the time you were at your mother’s, and now we know. I would have thought better of you, Grace Rogers, letting your fancy man pay the rent.’

  ‘I paid my rent out of my own money,’ Grace retorted. ‘Not that it’s any of your business.’

  ‘Ladies, ladies,’ Mr Seagrove pleaded.

  ‘I can’t stand here gossiping all day,’ said Elsie. ‘Didn’t I tell you, girls? I’m off to Hubbard’s this afternoon to see if I can pick up a nice little blue dress.’

  So, Rita had told them everything. Grace stood her ground and even though her heart was pounding in her chest, she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of walking out of the shop. It was an uncomfortable few minutes until the other two assistants had finished serving her neighbours but then it was Grace’s turn.

  They were waiting for her when she came out of the shop.

  ‘Finley’s whore,’ said Mary Minty.

  ‘Off for a ride in his car, are we?’ Elsie sneered. ‘My, my, I wouldn’t mind looking for a fancy man for myself.’

  ‘I shouldn’t bother,’ Grace said as she walked by, ‘men don’t like tarts who have a face like the back of a bus.’

  As she rounded the corner, Arc
hie came out of his shop. ‘You look upset, Gracie.’

  Her chin began to wobble. Not you and all, she thought. ‘All right, out with it,’ she said defiantly. ‘You may as well get it off your chest now.’

  ‘We looked out of the window,’ he said gently, ‘and saw you walking down the middle of the road. You look as if you mean business.’

  ‘I’m angry.’

  ‘I can see that. Do you want to talk about it?’

  ‘No!’

  He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Just trying to be a friend, Gracie.’

  ‘You didn’t bother to come for Christmas,’ she challenged.

  ‘Oh, was I invited? I’m sorry. I seem to remember you telling me you would rather I didn’t come to your house any more.’

  She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. ‘We?’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘You said we looked out of the window.’

  ‘Oh, Snowy and me.’

  She was stunned.

  ‘Do you need a friend, Gracie?’

  She nodded miserably and he stepped aside. ‘Better come in then. Snowy has put the kettle on.’

  Archie poured a little brandy into her tea as he sat down. ‘This is about more than Bonnie going away, isn’t it, Gracie?’ he said gently. He reached out and rubbed the side of her arm comfortingly. She gave him a helpless look. ‘What is it you’re not telling us, Gracie?’

  And it all came out. How Bonnie was seeing George Matthews, that Grace was afraid that Bonnie might know something about George’s death and how Norris Finley had said she was in the old factory the day George died.

  ‘I knew it!’ cried Snowy. ‘I had a feeling that Finley was up to something bad.’

  ‘What do you mean, something bad?’ said Archie.

  ‘That man is a womaniser,’ said Snowy. ‘He’s ruined many a life here in Worthing and the minute he set his cap for Grace, I knew she’d only go to him if he had some kind of hold over her.’ There was an ominous silence and then she said, ‘Oh God, Grace, I’m sorry.’

  ‘Did you go to him?’ said Archie. His voice was barely more than a whisper.

  ‘I saw some woman kissing you in the shop a little while back,’ she accused.

  Archie looked puzzled and then relaxed. ‘She’d lost a necklace inside the chair,’ he said. ‘I pulled it out.’

  Grace felt her stomach churn. She’d been a complete idiot, hadn’t she? Why hold back now? It was all over anyway. She’d sent him away and now he’d know why. ‘I’m sorry.’ She looked up at him, her eyes filling with tears.

  ‘I didn’t want to go with him.’ Grace said, her voice racked by huge sobs. ‘I hated it but he had Bonnie’s locket, you see. He said he would take it to the police and tell them she was there. I couldn’t let them do that, could I? She’s my own flesh and blood. I couldn’t let him put the hangman’s noose around my own daughter’s neck.’

  He nodded, stood up and turned his back on her.

  ‘Don’t you see? I had to send you away,’ she said. ‘I didn’t want to spoil your good name. I didn’t want anyone to say you were friends with Finley’s tart.’

  Grace began to cry softly and Snowy put her hand over the top of her hands.

  Archie turned and stared at her back and Snowy saw the tears in his eyes as well. She got up from the table and jerked her head. ‘Excuse me. I need to go to the lavvy,’ she said in a loud voice, and left the room.

  As the door closed, Archie put his arms around Grace and pulled her to her feet. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ he said. ‘Why did you suffer all alone?’ She looked up at him in disbelief. ‘Gracie, you don’t have to do everything on your own any more. I’m here and I want to help you.’

  He hugged her close and she relaxed in his warm embrace. ‘So does Snowy,’ he went on and she stiffened. Snowy as well? So friendship, that’s all he was offering … just friendship.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said stiffly, pulling herself from his embrace. ‘It’s good to have such wonderful friends.’

  They sat back down and Snowy came back indoors.

  ‘What’s it with you and Rita?’ said Snowy.

  Grace told them about Emilio and Rita’s escapade to Gretna Green. ‘It’s her birthday next week but she’s cut herself off from me. I’ve written to her but all her letters have been returned to sender. If I see her in the street, she crosses over the road. I’m at my wits’ end.’

  Snowy leaned back in her chair and blew out her lips. ‘It’s all a bit of a mess, isn’t it?’

  Grace nodded. ‘And that’s not all,’ she said, her eyes filling up again. ‘Now I’ve got mice. Not just one or two, but a serious infestation I shouldn’t wonder. I can hear them running about all night.’

  ‘Well that’s one problem we can help with,’ said Snowy.

  ‘We can?’ said Archie faintly.

  ‘Of course we can,’ said Snowy. ‘With my cat and your brawn, we’ll soon get rid of the little blighters.’

  ‘Pity we couldn’t do the same with Norris Finley,’ sighed Archie.

  Twenty-Nine

  Bonnie was on tenterhooks. Over the past few months, she, Dinah and John had become really close friends. It would be no exaggeration to say she really loved them but it was difficult to find time to be together. She only had one day off a week and the two actors were very busy with rehearsals and auditions, but now they had invited her for another weekend away. She wanted to go, and she could request the days off, the Saturday for one week and the Sunday for the following week, but she knew that if she showed John the letter it could be a difficult two days.

  It had surprised Bonnie to realise just what their course entailed. She had the mistaken idea that actors simply learned the lines and then performed them on stage, but Dinah and John had to spend hours and hours honing their craft. They studied movement, voice coaching, breath control and how to project their voices for the stage, but they had to develop a much more intimate style of acting for the silver screen. They must have been good because, little by little, the parts were coming in.

  When they did get together, they had a wonderful time. Dinah adored Shirley and was always giving her little presents. John spent every moment teaching her how to do things and playing ‘Boo’. Shirley adored it when John threw her into the air and caught her or when he and Dinah held her hands as they ran along the road and swung her up. Dinah did her best, every time they met, to persuade Bonnie to write to her mother but somehow, although she promised faithfully that she would, Bonnie could never actually put the letters she wrote into the post. It seemed that the more time passed, the harder it became.

  Her letters from Miss Reeves had dried up. Perhaps Miss Reeves had given up trying to make her go home too? She wished she had news of her mother and Rita. No news, far from being a good thing, only created a greater hunger for them, but pride stopped her every time.

  Dinah still collected rent from her property in the same road as Bonnie’s house, but all that was done through an agent now. Her first tenant had apparently moved out after only a few short weeks. She never went back to Worthing – there was always something else to do.

  Bonnie was happy in the nursery. Her training course was coming to an end and, without being cocky about it, she was sure she would pass the exam. Matron Bennett had invited her to stay on as a staff nursery nurse once she got her badge and of course she would get a pay rise.

  To stay in the nursery seemed expedient for the time being. It provided twenty-four-hour care for Shirley when Bonnie was on duty and, best of all, she was being looked after by people Bonnie trusted.

  Christmas in the nursery was wonderful. Each room was decorated with paper chains and balloons, and the routine, normally so strict, was relaxed for the two days of the holiday. In fairness to everyone, nobody had either Christmas or Boxing Day off. Father Christmas turned up in the afternoon (thanks to Mr Bennett) and the children each had a special gift. Shirley had a rag doll called Leggy Peggy. She loved it from the minute she saw it.


  With the onset of a new year, Bonnie began to think more and more about showing John the letter. The secret was becoming a burden to her. She couldn’t think of anything else when she was with him, but it left her on the horns of a dilemma. What if he was angry, or rejected her? He and Dinah were the closest she’d got to family now. She hated the thought of being alone again.

  ‘Can you get a weekend off from the third to the fifth of February?’ Dinah wrote in her letter. ‘We’ve got something to tell you.’

  Bonnie smiled to herself. They were getting married, weren’t they? She was thrilled to bits. It couldn’t have happened to nicer people; but her excitement was short-lived. John still didn’t know he was adopted. She would have to tell him now. The thought of some toffee-nosed, unfeeling official letting it slip was awful. John would be devastated. Although he didn’t say much about his father, he adored his mother and they often met in London for lunch or tea in Dickins & Jones in Regent Street. She wondered why his mother hadn’t told him. It was really her place, not Bonnie’s, but all the same, she couldn’t put it off any longer.

  Rita Semadini’s arms felt as if they were coming away from their sockets. Her shopping bags weighed a ton. She must have been mad to spend the rest of the afternoon in the Plaza and then to buy all these groceries from Potter and Bailey’s on the way home, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.

  She almost ran to her house. She and Emilio had managed to find rented rooms at the other end of Station Approach. They weren’t wonderful but it meant that she could stay in the area where she had grown up while still being far enough away from her old home not to have to face her mother every day.

 

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