A Dish of Stones

by Valentina Hepburn

  “Don't say that.”

  “Course he is. He's a soldier. Soldiers use guns.”

  “Well, thank you very much, Ray Daly...for ruining my day.”

  “Flippin' 'eck, Ivy. I can't say anything right sometimes.”

  Ivy Daly woke with a start and looked at the clock on the bedside cabinet. It was six-thirty on the first Monday morning in May. Leaning over to the other side of the bed, she shook her husband to wake him. “Ray, Ray, get up love. We’ve overslept.” Ray stirred, the muffled sounds of waking coming from somewhere in his pillow. “Wha...what. Where’s the fire?”

  “There’s no fire, Ray, at least I ‘ope not. You’d better get a shift on. You’re late for work.”

  “I thought it was a Bank Holiday today?”

  “Yes, but not for you. You’re doing overtime, remember?”

  She pulled her knitted housecoat over her long-sleeved flannel nightdress, tying the tassel as she made her way downstairs, looking forward to the first cup of tea of the day. As she passed the front door to go into the kitchen, she picked up the post from the hall table. “Should’ve read these yesterday,” she muttered. “All bills no doubt.” Throwing the letters on to the kitchen table she took the kettle from the hob and filled it at the tap, her mouth agape in a huge yawn. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, then placed the kettle on to the hob and turned on the gas burner, lighting it with a match. While she waited for the kettle to boil she did the Eileen Fowler exercises she’d done for years. This involved stretching first one arm up as far towards the ceiling as she could go and then the other. After a few stretches she was satisfied her routine was complete. Her exercise schedule was over for another day.

  Then she remembered the letters. She picked them up and sifted through them shaking her head. All bills except one. Looking at the front of the envelope her face suddenly blanched and she hurried to the bottom of the stairs as fast as her legs would allow.

  “Ray,” she shouted. “Ray, quick. We’ve got a letter from Jack’s regiment. Oh, God, why didn’t I read it before? I hope he’s not hurt. Please, Lord, let him be all right.” Ray ran down the stairs pulling on his vest. “Open it, Ivy.”

  “I can’t love, will you do it? I’ve gone all shaky.”

  With trembling hands she passed the unopened letter to her husband. He tore the top from the envelope and took out a piece of flimsy note paper, glancing at her before reading. “He’s been hurt in a training exercise. They’re sending him home to convalesce at the end of next week.” Ivy put her hands over her eyes. “Oh, Jack, my poor boy. My youngest son wounded in battle.” Ray held her hand. “He’s broken his leg love that’s all, it’s nothing serious. He’s got some leave owing as well so they’re sending him back to us for a while. There’s nothing to worry about.”

  He put a comforting arm around her broad shoulders as best he could. “Come on, love. Let’s have that cup of tea. Then you can think about getting his room ready for him. It’ll be nice to have him home again, won’t it? You can fuss over him ‘till your heart’s content.” She smiled wanly. “It’s just that I worry about him.” Ray nodded. “I know love,” he said patting her shoulder. “I know.”

  Chapter 12

  “Do you think you’ll sleep with him?”

  “What?”

  “He’ll expect you to. Eventually.”

  “It’s none of your business, Emma. Anyway, I haven't thought about it.”

  “I bet he has.”

  Emma woke and stretched, knowing the day was special but at the moment of waking unable to remember exactly why. Then it dawned on her. Today was the 15th of July 1976, her sixteenth birthday. She stretched her whole body again then relaxed, thinking of what it could mean to her life to be sixteen instead of fifteen.

  “What can I do today I couldn’t do yesterday?” she said out loud. After a few moments thinking very hard, Emma discovered that there was really nothing significant that she could do today that she couldn’t do yesterday simply because she’d turned sixteen. Anything she could do, she was doing already. Disappointed, she pulled the covers back over her head and waited for Kate to call her for school. I’ll be late if she doesn’t hurry up, she thought. A few moments later there was a tap on the door.

  “Can I come in?” Emma sat bolt upright in bed. “You may enter.” Kate walked through the door carrying a large tray. “Happy Birthday, Emma.” She sat on the bed and gave her sister a kiss. “How does it feel to be sixteen?” Emma shrugged. “The same.” Kate laughed and pushed the tray across to her. “There you are. A special breakfast for the Birthday Girl. Pancakes and golden syrup, a glass of orange juice, two birthday cards and a small present wrapped in lovely pink tissue and tied with the prettiest silver ribbon I could find.”

  “Oh wow, is this all for me?”

  “Sure is. Hurry up and open your cards.” Emma opened the smallest card first. “Thanks, Katie.” She grinned at her sister then opened the second. It was from Angie. “I suppose you bought this and got Mum to sign it.”

  “Does it matter?” asked Kate, softly. “At least you got one and she was sober enough to sign it. Well just.” Kate pushed the present towards her. “This is from me, and I didn’t use any of the money...” she lowered her voice, “...from you know where.”

  Emma tore open the wrapping. Inside was a felt box. She opened it carefully, revealing a silver bracelet with a silver heart-shaped charm. Emma gasped and Kate put her hand affectionately under her chin. “It’s to say that whatever happens to us, whatever we’re doing and wherever we are, I’ll always love you, right?”

  “Thank you, Katie. It’s the nicest present I’ve ever had. What would I do if I didn’t have you?” Kate pulled a face. “I dread to think. Eat your breakfast now, Emma. Unfortunately, school doesn’t recognise birthdays as holidays. I’ll see you downstairs.” Emma looked up from her tray. “Did I get a card from David?” Kate frowned. “David? David who?”

  “David Essex, of course.”

  “You’ll be lucky.”

  Kate went into the kitchen to finish clearing up from breakfast and to scrub the hall carpet before she went to school. Angie had been ill the night before and had taken to her bed. This was a job she hated. It was at times like this that she wondered how much longer she could go on being responsible for them all. Surely there must be another way. Perhaps she should talk to Ivy or maybe even Mrs. Forsythe, the head teacher. Afraid of what the outcome might be she didn’t dare take the first step. She had to keep hoping that Joe would come back to them soon. She was sure everything would settle back to normal and they could be a proper family again. He'd better get a move on though, Kate thought. Angie hated him so much she'd put every photograph of him they had in an old cardboard box and shoved it to the back of the garden shed. Kate had gone into the shed and taken one of the smaller photographs and smuggled it into the house. She'd hidden it under her pillow, certain that Angie would never find it. Changing the sheets was not very high on Angie’s agenda.

  Her thoughts went to Stephen again and she closed her eyes. She could see his face in her mind’s eye, his handsome features, those soulful brown eyes and the lock of glossy black hair he constantly pushed back. She’d met him each Saturday morning since their first meeting. With Emma’s help she’d managed to do this without Angie finding out. She hated deceiving her mother. She wanted to have a normal relationship with a boy and share this important time for her with Angie like other girls of her age but Kate knew that this would never happen. Without Joe to help smooth things over it would be impossible.

  Angie’s behaviour towards her hadn’t changed. She still treated Kate like her slave and her punch bag. Kate contented herself with the thought she was only doing what every other girl of her age did and that everyone else perceived it as normal. It was only Angie who made it into a bad thing – a dirty thing. Her relationship with Stephen was something that belonged to her and her alone and she cherished it. She looked forward all week to their Saturday lunchtime da
tes and with each meeting she’d found herself becoming more attracted to him. He praised her, encouraged her in her studies and told her she was unique and very special to him.

  They had only kissed once. It had been a tender loving kiss to say goodbye after their last meeting, when he’d suggested they try and meet up one evening. She’d reluctantly agreed to the following Friday. He told her to dress casually which had made Kate smile. Casual was easy. Everything she possessed was casual.

  Emma’s feet thumped on each stair tread as she rushed down with her hairbrush in hand and her school bag slung over her shoulder. “'I’m nearly ready,” she said breathlessly. “Ugh, it really smells in here. Disinfectant. Has Mum been sick again?” Kate nodded and Emma looked exasperated. “She’ll sick herself inside out one of these days. I thought I heard her retching in the night. God, it’s so disgusting. Did you have to clear it up?” she asked Kate, pulling a face at the thought of it. “Yeah,” Kate said impatiently. “Can we change the subject? It’s bad enough having to clear up after her. I don’t want to have to talk about it as well.”

  Emma dragged the hairbrush through her thick mane of blonde hair. “My hair’s like a bush. It’s so thick I can hardly get a hairbrush through it,” she tutted, trying to disentangle the hairbrush from the back of her head.

  “That’s because you take after Mum. She’s got hair like you hasn’t she?”

  “Yes, except hers is probably covered in sick.”

  “Emma, please! Can we go now?” Kate cried. Emma slung her satchel over her shoulder and left by the back door. Kate smiled to herself and followed her out into the welcome freshness of a summer’s morning.

  ***

  Kate put on her make up with special care. Her old jeans had boiled and bubbled in the copper until they were virtually white. Then she cut off the hems and frayed the bottoms trying to make them like the ones the models wore in the magazines. She went into Angie’s room to look for something suitable and fitting for the occasion. She opened both wardrobes, surprised to see Joe’s clothes were still hanging on the rails. The shirts had dust on the shoulders and smelt musty. Her stomach somersaulted. Why didn’t he take them, she thought?

  In Angie’s wardrobe she found an over-sized, black mohair jumper. She took it from the hanger and shook it. A swirl of fine dust floated in front of her and Kate could smell the faint remnants of Angie’s perfume lingering on the wool. The jumper was way too big for her but it was exactly what she wanted. A pair of old brown boots retrieved from underneath the kitchen dresser completed her outfit. She thought she would find Emma and ask her opinion.

  “You look like one of those hippy types,” she said looking up from her magazine.

  “Good,” Kate said, satisfied. “That’s exactly what I wanted.” Emma grinned. “Yeah, well don’t stand still for too long,” she said, “or you’ll get arrested for begging. What time are you meeting Stephen tonight?”

  “About nine-o’clock. We’re going to the Big Hill.” Emma raised her eyebrows.

  “What now?” said Kate, wishing Emma would just butt out and mind her own business.

  “Oh. Nothing. How are you going to get out without Mum seeing you?”

  “I don't know. I haven't worked that out, yet. I’m hoping she’ll either be in her room or asleep. I’d even settle for her being drunk if it meant I would get to see Stephen.”

  “You really like him don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I like him. He’s different, sort of gentlemanly.”

  “Sounds very unexciting to me. Still, you should worry. I’ve heard his family are loaded. You’ll be made for life if you stick with him.”

  “I’m not going to marry him, Emma.”

  “I don’t see why not. You should get your hooks into him. Let him know that you want him otherwise he’ll go elsewhere. I hear he’s very popular with the girls.” A flash of jealousy went through Kate. “You seem to know a hell of a lot about him.”

  “I make it my business to know. As I said, I worry about you. I just want to make sure you’re all right.”

  “Well, stop worrying Emma. I can handle it thanks.”

  Kate went downstairs and tiptoed towards the living room. The television was on as always. It was probably playing to an empty room or an unconscious Angie, but Kate didn’t want to know. She opened the back door and stepped out. Smiling, she congratulated herself on how well her plan had worked without any interference from Angie. She turned to shut the door softly behind her.

  “Where d’you think you’re going, young lady?” Angie stood just outside the door barring Kate’s way out. The old saying ‘pride comes before a fall’ flashed unbidden through her mind. “I’m going out,” she said quietly.

  “I’m going out.” Angie cruelly mimicked Kate’s voice. “I might be a drunk, Kate, but I’m not stupid… and I’m not blind either. I can see you’re going out, but where to and who with?” Kate’s mouth went dry and she didn’t trust herself to say anything, not wanting to give away how scared she was.

  “Well, come on, girl. You’ve got a tongue in that wooden-top head of yours haven’t you? Let’s hear the latest.”

  Kate swallowed nervously. She hated it when Angie’s sarcastic tongue made her feel insignificant and vulnerable. Mentally, she was preparing to defend herself. In her mind’s eye she could already see Angie’s punches raining down on her. “I’m going to the cafe with Elaine.” Angie stood for a few seconds facing Kate, the warmth of her wine-laced breath floating around them. After what seemed an eternity Angie stepped towards the back door. As she reached for the handle Kate saw she held a photograph of Joe close to her chest, hidden in the folds of her housecoat. Kate swallowed down her pity as sorrow for Angie overwhelmed her. She must be so lonely, she thought.

  “I can’t be bothered with you tonight” Angie said morosely. “If anything happens to you it’s your tough luck. I’m only trying to protect you y’know, when I get cross with you. I know you think I’m hard on you but sometimes parents have to be. I’m trying to do my best but you won’t let me, will you? You wait when you have your children, you’ll see. That’s if you can get yourself a man of course, which I doubt. You’ve got a face like as long a fiddler’s elbow.” She paused as her body swayed against the door. “Don’t be late,” she said. “And if you wake me when you come in, you’ll get a hiding. Understand?” Kate nodded then turned and ran out of the back door and down the side-alley.

  Out into the street she ran the length of Sunningdale Terrace. As she reached the town centre the Town Hall clock struck half-past-nine. She ran down Henry Street praying Stephen hadn’t given up on her. When she got to the cafe she could see him sitting at a table in the window. His face lit up when he saw her. “Hi,” he said, opening the cafe door, looking relieved. “I thought you were going to stand me up for a while there.” Kate laughed, breathless from her run. “Sorry,” she panted. “I got held up.”

  “There’s no harm done. You’re here now. Shall we go?”

  As they walked along Henry Street, Stephen linked his arm through Kate’s. Her heart leapt. She was so proud to be with him. As they walked side-by-side she could feel the warmth of his body and smell the musky scent of his cologne. Apart from their rather chaste goodbye kiss this was the closest she had been to him and her attraction to him overwhelmed her.

  There was something different and special about Stephen, setting him apart from the boys in her year at school, who seemed so immature in comparison. Stephen had already told her that he wanted to be a barrister and had been looking for the right university to study his chosen career. This had impressed her. She admired a person who knew what he wanted in life and was prepared to work hard to get it.

  He showed great intelligence and was up to date with current news and topical subjects. At their meetings they had discussed many things. Academically and intellectually she could match him and this pleased her. At last she had found someone she could relate to and who had an interest in the same things. It was a complet
e and utter pleasure to her to discover that not only was he attractive but they were also on the same wavelength.

  They stopped at the corner of Henry Street and he pointed to the other side of the street. “There’s the car.” Kate looked across to where he was pointing and gasped. The pale blue Mercedes looked incongruous among the cars parked around it, all well past their prime.

  “It’s beautiful,” she cried. “Is it really yours?” He nodded and laughed, satisfied that he'd impressed her. He guided her across the road and opened the passenger door for her. She got in cautiously, careful not to touch anything. Stephen walked around to the driver’s side. “Don’t forget to fasten your seat belt. We don’t want anything to happen to you, do we?”

  He started the engine and after fixing his own seat belt, drove off smoothly. After a few moments of nervousness Kate relaxed back into the leather upholstery. The luxuriousness and the smell of polished leather screamed wealth at her. This was a moment she would never forget. She studied the warm muted colours of the walnut dashboard and the luminescence of the dials glowing in the diminishing light. Her attention wandered across to Stephen. He transfixed her with his light and expert touch on the leather-bound steering wheel. Her eyes were drawn to his face. He was almost beautiful. His fine features and warm chocolate-brown eyes fringed by long dark eyelashes flickered as he looked first at the road and then at the rear-view mirror. His mouth was full lipped and ringed by a fine pale line that accentuated their fullness even more. She watched them twitch into a smile.

  “Like what you see?” he asked her, his eyes still on the road. She was embarrassed at being caught out but laughed, nervously shaking her hair back from her face. “Yes.”

  “Good,” he said as he reached for her hand and squeezed it gently.

  They drove in silence, and after a while Stephen pulled the car over onto a lay-by that had been worn into the grass verge. “This is it,” he said as he applied the handbrake. Kate looked out of the window, then at Stephen. “This?” Stephen nodded. “Come on. You’ll love it here.”