The latest batch of London designs was ready for printing and her other customers had plenty of hand-painted scarves in stock. With nothing to occupy her, Ellie had too much time to think.
The shrill sound of the telephone broke into her introspection and she reached for the receiver reluctantly. There hadn’t been any more silent calls, but she still jumped when the phone rang.
It was Alex, saying he’d be home later in the day. Perhaps she ought to cook something for him. There was plenty of time and she went upstairs, stopping in the doorway of the room which would be the nursery. She had decorated the low-ceilinged room herself in bright sunshine yellow. A hand-painted frieze of zoo animals marched round the walls and silk curtains to match hung at the windows. The furnishings had been chosen with loving care on shopping expeditions with Alex. They’d been happy then, Ellie thought, planning their new life with their baby. Surely they could be again.
As she went downstairs, a shadow fell on the glass panels of the front door and she jumped. It couldn’t be Alex already. She opened the door, a polite smile hiding the nervousness she always felt when someone called at the house unexpectedly. The fear that she’d thought long conquered returned and her stomach trembled. Had Bert found out where she was?
The stranger smiled and, as she recognized him, the years rolled away and it was as if they’d never been parted. After a moment’s brief hesitation, she threw her arms round his neck and hugged him as close as her distended body would allow.
Harry returned the embrace, his face buried in her hair. ‘Ellie, love. I’ve missed you,’ he whispered.
She pushed him gently away and led him into the drawing room. ‘I’ll make some tea.’
In the kitchen, she tried to quell the shaking of her hands, the trembling in her knees. He was here, he’d found her. Did that mean he’d left his wife?
A bubble of hysterical laughter welled up. What was she thinking – that he’d sweep her away, like a knight on a white horse? Here she was a married woman, nearly seven months pregnant. She leaned over the sink and splashed her face with cold water, willing herself to be calm. But Harry was here, he’d found her.
As her breathing steadied a cold thought stole over her. Why was he here? Something must have happened to her mother. Her knees started to shake again and she clung to the edge of the stainless-steel sink, her knuckles white. She couldn’t bear it, she just couldn’t.
His hand clasped her shoulder. ‘Ellie? Are you OK?’ His voice was hesitant. ‘I’m sorry – I didn’t think, should’ve phoned.’ He turned her gently to face him. ‘It’s all right, love.’
‘Mum – is she…?’
‘Your mother’s fine. She’s been ill but she’s OK now.’ He pulled her into his arms and held her, gently rubbing her back until her sobs eased.
She pulled away, looking up into his serious blue gaze through the mist of tears. ‘Harry, you’re not angry with me, are you?’ She might have been a child again, apologizing for breaking one of his model planes.
He grinned at her, the old Harry grin. ‘Bloody furious.’
‘I don’t blame you. That’s why I never got in touch. I thought you and Mum would never forgive me.’
He pulled her to him again and stroked her hair. ‘I was angry and – I blamed myself….’
Ellie pushed at his chest, a gesture of denial.
‘I did – you know why. But then I thought there must be more to it than that. And when Mary told me about that place your dad made you work, well….’
Ellie sighed, her face against the rough serge of his jacket. She was safe now, safe where she’d longed to be for so many long years. Yes, they were both married and there was no future for them. But why shouldn’t she stay here just for a little while, storing up these precious memories for the long lonely future? The roughness of his jacket against her cheek, the feel of his arms around her, his strong muscular body against hers – not that she could get that close to him with her bump in the way. A hysterical giggle rose in her throat, immediately suppressed as thoughts of Alex and their baby intervened.
Reluctantly she pulled away and busied herself setting a tray with her best china, filling the silver teapot. She needed these few moments of busyness to calm herself.
Harry watched her silently then followed her down the hall into the drawing room. He stood for a moment in the middle of the room, taking in the polished parquet floor, the Persian rugs, the French windows looking out on to the expanse of garden.
‘You’ve done well for yourself, Ellie,’ he said, as she set the tray on a small table between them.
‘Not me – Alex,’ she said simply.
‘Your husband…?’
‘He’s away at the moment – on business. But he’ll be back later this afternoon. You’ll be able to meet him.’ She didn’t really want Alex and Harry to meet. What she wanted was to leave this house and go with Harry – wherever he wanted. She didn’t care. Seeing him again, feeling his arms round her, had simply confirmed what her heart had always known. She loved him.
But Alex was her husband and she was expecting his child. Despite her suspicions, she knew how important she and the coming baby were to him. How could she hurt him after he’d been so good to her? Besides, wasn’t Harry married too and with a child of his own?
He sat on the edge of a chair facing her, leaning forward, his hands loosely between his knees. His thoughts seemed to echo hers for he sighed and said, ‘What are we going to do, love?’
‘You can go home and tell Mum and the rest of them that I’m fine, that I’ve got a good life. You can leave me to get on with my life – and you can get on with yours.’ He would never know what an effort it was to say those words.
‘I want you to come home, Ellie. Your mum’s not well. She needs to see for herself that you’re OK. She’s been out of her mind with worry.’
Ellie realized how selfish she’d been. Why hadn’t she written, especially after she’d got married? That would’ve set her mind at rest. And Harry wouldn’t have felt the need to find her. He wouldn’t be sitting here now, gazing at her with his blue eyes full of love, reminding her of everything she’d tried to forget over the past few years.
‘I can’t explain, Harry. At the time I thought running away was the only option. I felt I couldn’t come home – Mum would never forgive me.’
‘Can you imagine what we went through, wondering what happened to you?’
‘I’m sorry, so sorry.’ Ellie began to sob again. ‘I was in such a state – I didn’t think anyone would care—’
‘How could you think that?’ Harry’s voice rose. ‘You must have known you could confide in me – if not in your mum.’
‘But you weren’t there, were you? You were in Sheerness.’
Harry pulled her towards him and, once more she let herself cry in his arms. She could never tell him what had made her so desperate. What would he do to Bert if he found out?
When her sobs eased and she tried to pull away from him, he wouldn’t let her go. His lips were on her face, her eyes, her hair, then on her lips, fierce, burning. For a moment she responded, her body weak with feelings she had denied for so long. But it was no good. They shouldn’t be doing this. She pushed him away.
His eyes burned into hers. ‘Ellie, that last time – just before I went to Sheerness….’
She shook her head but he persisted.
‘You did feel something too? You do now, don’t you? I didn’t imagine it?’
Her smile shone through her tears. ‘No, darling Harry, you didn’t imagine it. I love you – I always have. And when I realized….’ She shook her head again. ‘But I convinced myself I was just being a silly kid.’
‘And now?’ His grip on her hands tightened.
‘I don’t have to tell you, do I?’ She pulled away and dried her eyes, sat back in her chair. She looked at him seriously. ‘Harry, we can’t always do what our hearts tell us to. You know that. We have responsibilities now.’ Her hand went protectively
to her swelling stomach and a little smile touched her lips.
Harry sighed and stood up. ‘You’re right of course. But, Gawd, it’s hard. How can I go home and just carry on as normal?’ He paced the room restlessly. ‘Come with me,’ he said, turning to her.
‘I can’t.’
He sat down again. ‘At least come back and see your mother. She needs you, Ellie. I promise I won’t try to talk you into anything. I’ve got Sid’s old van outside – it’s only an hour’s run. I could have you back here by teatime.’
‘I don’t know – I’m not sure I can face everyone.’ Ellie looked out of the window. She didn’t want Harry to see how frightened the thought made her. She longed to see her mother but that longing was overridden by her dread of coming face to face with Bert. Wasn’t that the reason she’d stayed away so long?
‘Your mother wants to see you, Ellie. She seems OK now. But I’m still worried about her. Seeing you could be just the tonic she needs.’
‘Why didn’t you bring her with you then?’ Ellie asked.
‘She doesn’t know I’ve come. I wanted to check things out first – see how you felt. For all I knew, you might have shown me the door. And I couldn’t bear the thought of Mary being hurt any more than she has been already.’
His voice was bitter and Ellie’s throat closed at the realization of how much she’d hurt them; so wrapped up in her own pain, she hadn’t thought about anyone else.
She made up her mind. ‘Come on then – but I won’t be able to stay long.’ She clutched Harry’s arm. ‘I won’t have to see Dad, will I?’
‘Don’t worry, he’s hardly ever there,’ he told her.
She grabbed her handbag and a coat from the closet. At the door she turned and took one of her scarves out of a drawer, folding it carefully into her bag.
The van was parked in the lane and she smiled when she saw the lettering on the side – ‘Varney’s Fruit and Veg – always fresh.’ Dear Sid, it would be good to see him too.
That was when Harry told her that Sid was dead.
Her sobs didn’t stop until the van was on the outskirts of London. The green fields had given way to rows of terraces, then parades of shops, behind them the towering cliffs of multistorey flats.
She turned to Harry. ‘How did you find me?’ she asked.
He told her about seeing the magazine article and the detective work that had led him to Great Withies and Withies Farm. ‘I had your phone number – I tried to ring several times, but when I heard your voice I couldn’t speak,’ he confessed.
‘It was you, then. I thought….’ Ellie paused. She couldn’t tell Harry about her suspicions. She eased her aching back against the lumpy seat of the old van, dried her eyes and looked around with a sense of homecoming. She was all cried out now – her tears not just for Sid Varney but for all her lost childhood.
‘Poor Sid,’ she said. ‘He must have been so lonely – no family to look after him when he was ill.’
‘I don’t think he was lonely. He was a big-hearted man, Ellie. He might not have had a family as such, but the market people were his family. He treated me like a son, you know – gave me a job when I came out of the army.’
‘Sid always liked you, Harry. I remember how much he missed you when you went away.’
Harry took his eyes off the road, grinning and Ellie saw that he was seething with an inner excitement. ‘What? There’s something you haven’t told me,’ she said, returning his infectious grin.
‘You’re right, Ellie. Sid did like me – in fact he loved me.’ Harry’s face flushed a little. ‘Like a son, I mean. Do you know what the sentimental old beggar did?
‘Tell me – please,’ Ellie begged.
‘He left everything to me – everything he owned.’ Harry’s eyes had misted over and Ellie realized how much it meant to him. Not in a material way of course. After all, what did Sid have to leave – the stall, a clapped-out old van, maybe a few pounds in the bank?
‘That’s wonderful, Harry. Will you carry on in the market then?’
Harry pulled up at a junction and turned to her. ‘You don’t understand, Ellie – Sid had quite a bit of money stashed away. No one guessed – least of all me. I still can’t take it in.’
His jaw was tight as he tried to clamp down on his emotions and Ellie realized it wasn’t the money he was thrilled about, but the fact that Sid had cared for him.
‘What will you do now, then?’ she asked.
‘I can do what I’ve always wanted to do – set up my own business. Not greengrocery. I can’t get excited about spuds and caulis.’ He grinned at her, his old self again. ‘I’ve always wanted to work with cars. Maybe I’ll set up a repair business. I learnt how in the army.’
‘That’s wonderful, Harry. I’m so pleased for you.’ Ellie fell silent. She was pleased for him. She wanted him to be happy, didn’t she? It should be the most exciting thing in the world – both of them achieving their childhood dreams. But what good did it do if there was no one to share it with? Alex didn’t understand her need to succeed on her own terms, treating her art merely as a hobby. And Harry would be sharing his success with his wife and child – not with her.
As the van drove deeper into the heart of the East End, familiar landmarks began to appear and Ellie looked out of the window, marking their progress by her childhood memories. She’d been back to London with Alex several times and, of course, she’d visited the Carnaby Street shop where her scarves were sold. But that was a different London.
Now, as she passed the red-brick primary school with its tarmac playground, the bus stop where she and Judith had waited for the grammar school bus each morning, she realized it hadn’t all been bad.
As they reached the corner of Kendall Street, she saw that old Solly’s shop was still boarded up and the whole street had a dingy abandoned look. Old cigarette packets and chip-wrappers whirled in the chill wind, collecting in the doorways of the empty shops.
She turned to Harry in surprise when the van stopped. ‘Mum’s still living here?’
He nodded and leaned across to open the van door. ‘Best if you see her on your own,’ he said, lighting a cigarette. ‘I’ve got a few things to do. I’ll come back later and take you home.’
She got out, pulling the collar of her coat closer around her neck. Of course he had things to do. He had a wife to go home to – a wife who was probably wondering what her husband was up to.
As she turned away and reached the door to the flat, she realized that Harry hadn’t mentioned Gerda or his child.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
As Harry drove away, Ellie hesitated before reaching out a tentative hand and pushing the door open. She entered the narrow passage, noting the peeling wallpaper, the patches of damp. Poor Mum never did get her council house, she thought.
The mingled smells of cooking and polish returned her to childhood days when she’d leapt the stairs two at a time, longing to tell Mum something that had happened at school. Now she mounted slowly, her heart beating faster, haunted by other times when she crept indoors, desperate to reach the sanctuary of her attic room.
She caught her breath, willing herself to be calm as she opened the door to the kitchen. Nothing seemed to have changed. A fire still glowed in the old-fashioned range, although a modern cream-painted electric cooker now stood against the wall next to the sink. Bert’s chair still occupied its place near the range. Even the little wooden stool where she had crouched as a child was still in its place by the brass fender.
Tears welled as she gazed round the familiar room. Lost in memories, she jumped when a voice came from the room across the landing.
‘Is that you, Harry? Have you brought my medicine?’
Ellie opened the door quietly. The woman on the bed was pale, thinner than she remembered, the wavy chestnut hair, once so like Ellie’s own, now lank and streaked with grey. She was facing the window, her eyes on a golden shaft of sun which had found its way through the partly-drawn curtains. At the sound of
the door opening, she turned her head. ‘Where have you been, Harry? I expected you back ages ago….’
‘Mum?’ Ellie approached the bed hesitantly.
Mary gasped. ‘Am I dreaming?’
‘No, Mum, it’s really me. Harry found me and brought me home.’ Ellie’s voice choked with tears and she sank to her knees beside the bed. ‘Oh, Mum – if only I’d known you were ill.’
She reached out to clasp Mary’s hand and buried her face in the candlewick bedspread, soaking it with tears, surprised she still had any left to shed. She felt her mother’s hand on her head, stroking her hair and murmuring.
‘No need for “sorries”, love. You’re here – that’s all that matters.’ She struggled upright and took Ellie in her arms. For a long time they clung together, their sobs saying more than words.
At last Ellie drew away, fumbling for a handkerchief. Mary took her hand. ‘Were you really so unhappy, love?’
Perhaps now was the time to explain why she’d really run away. But it would kill her mother to know what Bert had done, especially as she seemed so frail.
Ellie kissed her cheek. ‘It’s all in the past, Mum. I was just a silly kid. Just tell me I’m forgiven, please.’
‘There’s nothing to forgive. I never blamed you – just worried myself sick that something awful had happened to you. But you’ve made a good life for yourself. I couldn’t believe it when I picked up that magazine.’ She patted the side of the bed. ‘I want you to tell me all about it – how you met your husband, and how you started your business, everything.’ She pointed to Ellie’s swollen body. ‘And you’re expecting! I’m going to be a grandma again – and pretty soon, judging by the look of you.’
‘In a couple of months, Mum. Now, that’s enough about me – I want to hear about you – why are you still living here? I thought you were on the council list.’
‘Well, they said we didn’t qualify for a house, only a flat. I didn’t want to go in one of those tower blocks. Your dad didn’t want to move either. Still, we’re going to have to find somewhere soon – the new owner wants us out. The whole street’s coming down to make way for a new parade of shops.’
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