Threads of Silk

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Threads of Silk Page 12

by Grieve, Roberta


  She still gratefully accepted the lifts to and from work, although she kept saying she ought to start riding her bicycle now that summer was almost here. But Ellie had a feeling that Norah was making the most of these few minutes each day alone with Trevor. Now that it seemed Gloria was off the scene permanently, perhaps she thought she stood a chance with him. Good luck to her.

  As a thank you, Norah brought in a batch of her home-made scones and a Dundee cake. Trevor put them under the glass dome on the counter, next to the basket filled with cellophane-wrapped slices of cherry fruitcake and little packets of biscuits. Norah’s cakes sold out and Trevor asked her when she was going to make some more. They’d make a good team, if only he could see it, Ellie thought.

  Ellie realized how much they depended on Norah when she went into hospital for her operation. They only kept her in a few days but she wasn’t allowed back to work for two weeks. And even then she had to rest.

  As she tidied the kitchen and made sure everything was ready for reopening, Ellie smiled. Trevor had confessed to missing the little woman while she’d been away.

  He’d just taken Norah home and the café seemed quiet after the bustle of the morning. Ellie switched on the radio and hummed along to ‘Singing the Blues’. Trev’s Café didn’t have a juke-box, or a pinball machine like many roadside cafés did. He said it attracted the wrong sort of people like the motorbike gangs who roared up and down at weekends on their way to Clacton.

  She finished laying the tables and went back to the kitchen, first turning the wireless up so that she could still hear it while she went to tidy her bedroom. She’d never really got used to how quiet it was when the café was closed.

  There was just time to change the sheets and make her bed. She went into Trevor’s room. It looked as though a hurricane had whirled through it. He never put anything away. After taking the dirty linen downstairs and loading the surprisingly modern twin-tub washing machine, she made up Trevor’s bed, then on impulse tidied his clothes away. As she dusted the dressing-table and replaced the ornaments and photographs, she sang along to the wireless which was tuned to Radio Luxembourg. They were playing Bill Haley now and, as she gave a final tweak of the bedspread, she danced a few steps and twirled round.

  She stopped short, her hand to her breast as she realized that someone was standing in the doorway. Before she could speak, the woman launched into a tirade.

  ‘What the hell are you doing in my bedroom? And where’s that rat hiding himself?’ She strode across the room and wrenched open the wardrobe door. ‘Trevor, come out – now,’ she shrieked.

  If she hadn’t been so terrified, Ellie would have laughed. But the woman – it must be Gloria – was still shouting, as if she imagined Trevor was hiding somewhere.

  ‘I might have known as soon as my back was turned you’d find some floozy to keep your bed warm. Well, I won’t have it – you hear me, Trevor?’

  She eventually ran out of steam and turned to Ellie, who still hadn’t moved. ‘Well, what are you doing here? Get out – now.’

  ‘But Mrs Ridley, I can explain. I just work here,’ she stammered.

  ‘Work.’ The word was spat contemptuously. ‘I bet that’s not all you do. I hear things you know. Just because this café’s out in the sticks doesn’t mean he can get away with anything. I know what he’s been up to – you’ve been living here for months. Don’t deny it.’

  ‘Yes, I do live here – but it’s not like you think. Trevor’s been very kind to me.’ It was the wrong thing to say.

  ‘Is that what you call it?’ With a harsh laugh Gloria was off again. When she’d calmed down again, she looked round. ‘Well, where is he?’

  ‘He’s gone out somewhere,’ Ellie said. She wasn’t going to tell Trevor’s wife that he’d taken Norah home.

  ‘Well, I want you out of here – before he gets back. You’d better start packing.’ She stood over Ellie, her blue eyes cold, as she stuffed things into her bag haphazardly. There wasn’t much. She got her old satchel with the art things from the bottom of the wardrobe where it had remained undisturbed since her arrival six months earlier.

  ‘To think I was willing to come back,’ she heard Gloria mutter, as she almost pushed her through the door. She could feel the woman watching as she stumbled across the potholed car park, her head still reeling from Gloria’s tirade. Why was she so determined to believe the worst of her? Why hadn’t she let her explain?

  Everything had happened so fast. And now, here she was, trudging along the same stretch of road that she had toiled along all those months ago – worse off than she’d been then. The long grass of the verge was wet against her bare legs and she shivered. Despite the earlier sunshine it was going to be a cold night. The light was beginning to fade as heavy clouds built up and Ellie choked back a despairing sob. Where could she go?

  As she reached the junction leading to Little Howe, it crossed her mind that Norah might take her in. But how could she face her friend, knowing how she felt about Trevor? She might even think Gloria’s accusations were true.

  Ellie sighed and leaned against the bus stop. No, she’d go into town and find a hotel or bed-and-breakfast. She spared a thought for Norah’s feelings when she heard that Gloria had decided to return to her husband. But when the threatened rain started to fall in earnest, her only concern was how soon the bus would come along. The black clouds had brought an early dusk and Ellie shivered, peering through the gloom, mesmerized by the hazy lights of the cars and lorries swishing through the rain. But no bus came.

  Wrapped in misery Ellie didn’t notice the van until it stopped beside her, showering her with muddy water. She shrank away as Trevor opened the door. ‘What the hell are you doing out here?’

  Ellie didn’t answer.

  ‘Don’t be silly, get in. You’re soaked.’

  ‘Gloria’s back.’

  He muttered a curse and ran his hand through his sparse hair. ‘And I suppose she threw you out? The silly cow.’

  Ellie nodded. ‘I’m not coming back – not after what she said.’

  ‘OK, then, Helen, have it your way. But for Pete’s sake get in out of the rain. I’ll take you to Norah’s. She’ll look after you. I’ll come and fetch you when I’ve sorted Gloria out.’

  Ellie got into the van beside him, shivering now inside her damp coat. As Trevor pulled away, she turned her face towards the side window, ignoring his attempts to start a conversation.

  At Norah’s cottage, Trevor gave a hurried explanation before jumping back in the van and driving off. Norah drew Ellie inside, helped her off with her wet things and wrapped her in her own candlewick dressing-gown. She sat the girl down in front of the wood stove, which now had its little glass doors wide open to reveal a satisfying blaze. ‘A hot drink is what you need, my girl,’ she said.

  As she clattered crockery in the tiny kitchen Ellie heard her muttering, her exclamations interspersed with the occasional swear word. But by the time Norah returned carrying a laden tray, she was asleep.

  Norah put the tray on a side table and looked down at the sleeping girl. Fond as she was of Trevor, she felt a spurt of anger that he hadn’t foreseen the trouble it could cause – letting a young girl like that stay at the café. But he was such a happy-go-lucky sort of bloke, as well as being straight as a die. It would never occur to him that people might read more into his relationship with a girl young enough to be his daughter.

  Mind you, she could understand Gloria’s outrage on returning home to find Helen there – especially in what had been her bedroom. She might have left him but that didn’t mean she’d relinquished all claim on her husband. Jealousy was an unpredictable emotion – as Norah herself knew all too well.

  The arrival of the girl had triggered off feelings she’d hardly been aware of. She shouldn’t have been jealous. Helen was such a scrawny little thing with her hair scraped back and those huge eyes in her thin white face. But over the months she’d filled out, her eyes had lost their haunted look and she had
gained in confidence.

  Norah had seen the way the male customers looked at her, had also seen Trevor’s eyes light up when she came into the room. And she’d been jealous – not of the girl’s beauty – she’d had her own share of looks when she was young. And she didn’t care how many men fancied Helen – just as long as Trevor didn’t. That was when she’d realized her feelings for him were more than friendship – not that he’d ever notice her, she thought, not while Gloria kept coming back to mess things up.

  Helen, or Ellie as she now liked to be called, stirred and mumbled, then settled deeper into the armchair, her feet stretched out to the warm blaze. Norah set the cup down near her, but she hadn’t the heart to wake her. She looked so young and defenceless.

  Norah knew there was nothing in Gloria’s accusations – she’d be able to tell if anything like that was going on. Trevor was just fond of the girl in the same way as he was fond of his daughter, Julie.

  But men did silly things when they were lonely. Maybe it was just as well things had turned out this way. She should have asked Ellie to stay with her before now. She touched the girl’s arm. ‘Drink it while it’s hot, love – and have a biscuit too.’

  Ellie sat up, rubbing her eyes. ‘I don’t want to be a nuisance,’ she said.

  ‘Don’t worry about it. You’re staying here,’ Norah said firmly. ‘I’ll cook us some supper in a minute. Now – tell me exactly what happened. Trevor just said Gloria found you in his bedroom and threw you out.’

  ‘She said some awful things – but I was only changing the sheets. I didn’t, I couldn’t….’ Ellie burst into tears.

  Norah let her cry for a few moments. Better to let it all out. She perched on the arm of the chair and put her arm round the girl. ‘I believe you, love. Some people have nasty minds. But I know Trevor – he’d never do anything out of place.’ She patted Ellie’s arm. ‘Anyway, no need to worry any more – you’re not going back there.’

  She wasn’t surprised when Ellie joined her in the kitchen and, without a word, started to help lay the table. She smiled and let her get on with it.

  Over scrambled eggs and toast she asked the question she’d been dying to ask ever since Trevor had deposited Ellie on her doorstep. ‘Is Gloria back for good?’

  ‘She gave me that impression, but I didn’t see any luggage.’

  ‘Maybe she just came for some of her things. Never mind, we’ll soon find out,’ Norah said. But Trevor didn’t come back that evening and she tried not to think that Gloria might decide to stay this time – or that Trevor had welcomed her back.

  But she needn’t have worried. When he arrived to pick them both up for work the next day, Trevor told them he’d thrown Gloria out, angry at the way she’d treated Ellie.

  He tried to persuade Ellie to return to the café, promising there’d be no more trouble from his wife. But Norah insisted that Ellie must stay at the cottage. ‘Then there’ll be no more misunderstandings,’ she said.

  Although she didn’t want to outstay her welcome, Ellie agreed. She also told them she ought to find another job. She dreaded another confrontation with Gloria, as well as the thought of being the subject of gossip in the village. From what Trevor’s wife had said, everyone was talking about the young girl who’d ‘shacked up’ with the café owner.

  Norah said it was nonsense – Gloria was just being her usual bitchy self – but Ellie was ready to move on anyway. When the local paper came out each week she scoured the situations vacant page as well as the advertisements for lodgings and rooms to let in nearby Chelmsford. But they all seemed very expensive.

  ‘No luck?’ Norah asked, as once more Ellie folded the paper with a sigh.

  ‘Most of the ones I’ve seen offer training on the job. But you don’t get paid much while you’re training and I need to be able to pay my way, and there’d be things like bus fares,’ Ellie replied. She still had her savings and had added to them considerably, having no opportunity to spend much while she’d been at Trevor’s. But she would need some more clothes and she still hadn’t given up hope of going to evening classes, perhaps even to college one day.

  ‘You needn’t worry about lodgings. My spare room is yours for as long as you want it,’ Norah said, picking up the paper. ‘There must be something. What were your best subjects at school?’

  With a little laugh, Ellie said, ‘Art and history – not much use really, are they?’

  ‘S’pose not. Still, I can tell you’ve had a good education. You must have had ambitions – something you dreamed of doing. Perhaps it’s not too late.’

  Ellie hesitated. It was a long time since she’d allowed herself to think about it. She couldn’t bear it if Norah ridiculed her. ‘It was always too late. Deep down I always knew they’d never let me go to college. I wanted to study art. But they made me leave school and get a job.’

  ‘Well, I’m darn sure you can get a better job than dogsbody in a café.’

  ‘Maybe – but who’s going to give me a chance?’ She helped herself to another scone and started to relax in the homely atmosphere of Norah’s cosy sitting room. It was almost like being back at Gran’s.

  Norah broke the silence, reaching out to touch Ellie’s arm. ‘Why don’t you go home, love? Whatever the problem was, I’m sure it’s all blown over by now. They’ll be so pleased to have you back, they won’t be angry with you.’

  Ellie’s eyes filled with tears. ‘You don’t understand….’

  Norah sat back in her chair. ‘I was right then. You did run away? And Helen Scott’s not your real name?’

  Ellie nodded.

  ‘But you have got family? Trevor said you were supposed to be going to your sister after your grandmother died.’ Norah touched her arm again. ‘Why don’t you get in touch with her? Surely she’ll be pleased you’re safe.’

  ‘She’s only my half-sister – and she doesn’t really care,’ Ellie said.

  ‘But Helen, she’s family.’ Norah sighed. ‘It’s only when you’ve got no one left that you realize how important that really is.’

  ‘Gran was the only one who cared,’ Ellie said. She wouldn’t think of Mum – or Harry. Her mother should have stood up to Bert. And if Harry really loved her, he wouldn’t have married that German girl.

  ‘I’m sure your sister cares too. At least get in touch with her – tell her you’re safe.’

  ‘I sent a card at Christmas. They know I’m all right,’ Ellie said. ‘Anyway I can’t go to Sheila. I can’t stand her husband. Just being in the same room with him….’ She gave a little shudder and bit her lip.

  Norah nodded. ‘Some men make you feel like that, don’t they?’ she said with a smile.

  ‘I don’t know what she sees in him,’ Ellie said. She remembered his sleazy smile, the way he’d looked her up and down. She’d tried so hard to forget that part of her life. Why had Norah brought it up? She began to shake and tears spilled over.

  Norah put her arms round her and let her sob. At last she gave a shaky sigh and sniffed away her tears.

  ‘That’s better, love. Now – tell me, what brought all that on?’ Norah said. ‘Do you miss your family – is that it? Why can’t you go home, love?’

  ‘You don’t understand.’ Ellie bit back another sob. She couldn’t confide in her friend. Better to try to forget them all – Harry as well. She leaned forward in her chair. ‘I’m sorry. I know you’re only trying to help and I do appreciate all you’ve done for me.’

  ‘That’s what friends are for,’ Norah told her.

  ‘I don’t know what I’d have done without you – Trevor too, but it’s time I started standing on my own feet. I don’t want to be a waitress all my life. I want to make something of myself so if I do ever go back home I can show them my education wasn’t a waste of time.’

  ‘Education’s never a waste,’ said Norah.

  Ellie smiled and changed the subject. ‘Trevor told me you used to work in a silk mill. What was your job, Norah?’ she asked.

  ‘I was a t
hrowster,’ Norah said proudly.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘I worked the machine that twisted the silk threads, before they were woven into material. It’s a very skilled job.’

  ‘They used to make silk in Bethnal Green – not far from where I used to live. There was an old row of weavers’ cottages, with big windows upstairs. But they were pulled down a couple of years ago. And there aren’t any mills left in London,’ Ellie said. ‘I didn’t realize there were any left in this country at all.’ She remembered the beautiful fabrics she’d seen in the Victoria and Albert Museum and her efforts to reproduce the designs for her art portfolio.

  ‘There’s not many – most of them have converted to making these new materials, nylon and such, especially up north. I sometimes wonder how Turner’s keeps going,’ Norah said. She sighed and began to reminisce about her old job and Ellie listened fascinated. During the war, the mill at Withies Green had woven thousands of yards of silk for parachutes and Norah had been proud doing such important work. ‘We’d stopped throwing our own silk by then – I went on to the weaving,’ she said.

  ‘Why did you leave?’ Ellie asked.

  ‘I couldn’t face going back after Bob’s accident,’ she said. ‘He came back there to work after the war – got his arm caught in a machine and lost a lot of blood. He should have been all right. But he was weak after being so long in the prison camp. He couldn’t fight the infection, you see.’ Norah’s voice trailed away and Ellie squeezed her arm sympathetically.

  ‘I’d like a job like that – something I can take pride in,’ she said.

  ‘So, what are we going to do with you, then?’

  ‘I really don’t know.’ Ellie said, ‘But, listening to your tales of working in the mill, I’d like to do something like that. Do they still make silk there?’

 

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