There were a lot of questions for Phil to answer, mainly about why he hadn’t called the doctor and the police earlier. In this instance his answers were less clear and he spent a long time giving his explanations.
When they were free, Cecily took Ada back to the shop. ‘Best you comeaway, love, Phil will be talking to the police for a while yet. There’ll be a lot to sort out. We’ll come back later. Try and rest, then tomorrow you can start arranging the funeral, you and Phil.’
They told Willie what had happened and at once he began to organize the day. He called on Jack Simmons, who would take the orders out. Willie would stay with Van in the shop. Annette came to prepare food. She carried baby Claire Welsh-fashion in a blanket around her shoulders and under the baby, keeping her warm and safe and allowing Annette to have her hands free. Victor came too and was excited at being allowed to explore the large house, the stables and the newly furnished cellar. He ran up and down stairs, and in and out of the house, banged noisily but tunelessly on the piano and thoroughly enjoyed himself. Once his morning tasks were done, Danny was his willing accomplice.
Cecily sat talking about what arrangements were needed. They ate very little. The police called several times with more questions but it was long after the shop had closed before Phil arrived. He was weepy at the loss of his mother. A constable accompanied him but seemed irritated rather than sympathetic. The weeping hadn’t begun until they reached the shop and Ada could comfort him.
‘Heart attack, the doctor thinks,’ the constable said.
‘You’d think I killed her, the way they’ve gone on and on about me laying her out. Grieved I was, and wanting to do something for her. Can’t anyone understand that?’
Cecily glanced at Ada. The possibility that Phil had murdered his mother had filled her mind all that awful day. ‘You’ll stay here tonight, Ada, won’t you?’ she almost pleaded.
‘No, we won’t,’ Phil said. ‘They’ll be bringing Mam home and we can’t have her coming back to an empty house. We’ll go back now.’
‘But she won’t be home tonight, Phil,’ Ada said. ‘I think we should stay and go back in the morning.’
‘We’re going home.’
‘D’you want me to go with you?’ Cecily asked.
‘Yes, that would be—’ Ada began.
Phil just shook his head and, reaching for Ada’s coat, helped her on with it and they left, Phil hurrying his wife away in a manner that frightened Cecily. She looked at the policeman, an unspoken question in her eyes.
‘He won’t harm her, if that’s what you’re thinking, miss. Sure I am that it was grief that made him act a bit peculiar, like.’
But Cecily was uneasy. ‘He’s been … unwell for a long time, you know.’ She was hesitant about blurting out the full story of the burglaries and the violence but the policeman clearly knew.
‘An experience like he’s had is bound to change a man,’ he said. ‘After all, it’s meant to be punishment and a deterrent. We can’t treat them so soft they don’t think they’ve had to paid for their crimes, can we?’
He left them, with reassurances for Cecily and Van that they would be all right. Nothing had changed, the house was still the same comfortable home it was before this tragedy happened. Danny was still there, sitting in a corner while the constable talked to Cecily. When she had shown the constable out she turned to Danny. ‘Danny, you will stay tonight?’ Cecily sensed rather than saw the slight reaction from her daughter. ‘We’ll be a bit nervous after the events of last night, won’t we, Van?’
‘Yes, I’ll stay. And we’ll make sure the bolts are across, won’t we, Van? We don’t want any more night visitors.’
Van just stared at him and gave an almost imperceptible smile.
Danny slept in the room that had been their father’s. Cecily had changed the white counterpane for a blanket of blue and cream check to add some cheer to the cold and unwelcoming room.
‘Thanks. I’d feel like a corpse myself sleeping in that white bed,’ he said with a grim smile.
He didn’t use the wardrobe but left a few clothes scattered about the room, on the backs of chairs, across the bed and folded in piles on the marble wash stand, printing his identity on the place but suggesting his stay was not permanent.
The newspapers made a lot of the story the following day and it was Cecily who came out worst. Her story about Phil appearing in her bedroom and how, worried about his sister, she had driven to the village to make sure all was well, had been turned on its head by Phil. He had gathered his wits and strength for the purpose of making her look a fool. He insisted that he had knocked on the shop door and Cecily had told him to go away, refusing to listen to his story about the death of his mother. Cecily pretended to ignore the unpleasant lie to people who didn’t matter but pleaded for Ada and Van to believe she had spoken the truth.
Only Peter believed her. She had gone to where he sat in the tea stall, selling ice creams and sweets and all the other needs of the visitors to the beach. She told him in detail everything that had happened and after that she avoided him, afraid that her company would bring him unpleasant publicity – and he didn’t deserve that.
Van believed the unkind version and went to talk to her gran about it. Kitty tried to persuade her not to believe what had been the ramblings of a confused mind but Van was unrepentant. ‘My mam is always in trouble. Why should I think this time is any different?’
‘Try to think about it honestly, Van lovey. Your mother wouldn’t do what the papers are saying. You know her well enough to believe her.’
Van smiled. ‘She’ll get what’s coming to her one day, you wait and see.’
Kitty was worried about the bitterness in her granddaughter’s expression and wished Cecily and Ada were willing for her to go and talk to them. They needed her and because of their refusal to forgive her for leaving them as she had, she was unable to help. ‘You don’t think, with all this going on, they might agree to see me, do you?’ she asked.
‘I try, Gran, I really do but they say they’ll never forgive you. Thank goodness I found you. I love you, Gran.’
The business wasn’t affected detrimentally. In fact, new or rarely seen customers filled the place, hoping for more facts or fantasies to add to the story that was buzzing around the town. There were some who came just to stare at the woman who invented stories about men wandering into her bedroom, and had shown no concern when her brother-in-law had knocked on the door and told her his mother was dead, but had sent him away. It was sickeningly hurtful and she wished Ada had been there with her to at least refute the worse exaggerations that were bandied about and growing in strength and imagination day by day. But Ada didn’t leave Phil’s side during the weeks following the funeral and when they did see each other it was clear that Ada believed Phil’s story about her refusal to help.
Danny wasn’t around much. He delivered the post in the morning then spent the rest of the day in the workshop he shared with Willie until late in the evenings. Willie asked him one day if he’d seen Cecily.
‘No, I don’t want to get my name mixed with hers with all the rumours that are going on,’ he admitted.
‘Got a reputation, hasn’t she?’ Willie said, and there was something in his voice that made Danny look at him. ‘And whose fault is that? What makes you suddenly feel innocent of it all? The woman is to blame, the man is just being a man, right?’
‘I thought it best to keep away until it all dies down.’
‘Phil lied, and you damn well know it. But you’re leaving her to face it alone. That’s typical of you, Danny Preston.’
Danny felt a tinge of guilt but not enough. He preferred to believe the story the papers had carried. Had she lied to the police and pretended that Phil had been in her room just to cover up her unkindness at refusing to help him? But no, that unwillingness to help wasn’t in her nature. It didn’t make sense.
Cecily was glad it had happened during the busiest time of the year, leaving her little time to d
well on the humiliation and accusations that filled the air around her.
Peter called one Sunday morning and invited Cecily and Van to lunch at a restaurant overlooking a beach a few miles out of town. She gladly accepted and the three of them set out in his car. Van seemed pleased to see him and chatted easily as he drove. As they ate, it was Van who brought up the subject of the night when Mrs Spencer died.
‘Phil is a confused man,’ Peter said when Van was asking why the papers had been so unkind to her mother. ‘He’d been caught with stolen goods in his hands and prison was a punishment he found difficult to bear. He wanted someone else to be punished too, and even though your mother wasn’t guilty of anything except in his mind, he chose to embarrass her like he did. I don’t think anyone can understand why.’ Van smiled but she wasn’t convinced.
Cecily was so glad to spend time with Peter. He was the only one apart from Danny who had heard the full story of that strange and frightening night visit. Phil’s story had been more convincing than her own.
‘You should have told the truth at once and not tried to protect Ada,’ Peter said as he and Cecily sat for a few precious moments of peace outside the beach cafe. ‘She must know how disturbed Phil is. You haven’t saved her from anything – just delaying the imminent and inevitable crash. Changing your story led the police to doubt you.’
‘Too late now.’
‘Too late to stop Phil’s stories but they’re dying down anyway. Are you sure Ada doesn’t believe you’re telling the truth? She’s an intelligent woman and she knows you better than anyone else does.’
‘She believed Phil then and still believes him. She insists he knocked on the shop door asking for help and I turned him away; that the story about coming into my bedroom was a nonsense. In fact, I’m being blamed for his depression. If I’d agreed to give him a job he’d be fully recovered now. That’s what she believes. My own sister. Oh, Peter, I wish Mam was here.’
‘That’s maybe what Ada says but I doubt she believes it. When trouble comes and there’s no way out of it it’s natural to look for a scapegoat.’
‘So I can add scapegoat to all the other epithets I’ve collected over the past weeks?’ She laughed without humour. ‘Why not? It makes a change from whore!’
‘Cecily, my dear, don’t! You know who you are, and the circumstances which make people so unkind will fade into misty memory. Phil isn’t going to miraculously recover, is he? And one day the truth will become apparent and Ada will have to face reality.’
‘I hope so, Peter. With Ada against me as well as all the rest, I’m finding it hard to take.’
Chapter Five
TWO WEEKS AFTER the funeral of Mrs Spencer, the events which were to change all their lives began. Poland was invaded by Hitler’s German army in the early hours of 1st September and on the 3rd, war was declared.
It was a Sunday morning and the first night of the war was dark, with a moon hidden in an overcast sky. The blackout came into force immediately and people felt they had been transported to an alien land as they tried to make their way through the streets without the assistance of friendly lights.
They fell, bumped into each other as well as into lampposts and trees, and tripped over the cats which wandered, curious about the unusual blackness of the night. Dogs stood and barked their confusion and young people giggled helplessly as they made a pantomime out of finding their way home.
Special window net and tape were sold, both of which had to be dipped in water then fastened to the glass to hold it in case it was shattered, the tape in a criss-cross pattern and the net cut to size. Four and a half thousand Anderson shelters were ordered for the town and digging began on the deep holes needed to accommodate them. Vegetable plots, some cut in carefully nurtured lawns, were marked out and digging began.
People stood around in groups, watching the sky as if expecting a horde of enemy planes to swoop down on them, spreading death and chaos from the leading edges of their wings. Torches as well as car and bicycle lamps were allowed, but these had to be more than half covered with black paper to reduce the beams to a thread. A few lights showed from houses where the blackout restrictions weren’t taken seriously but as the air raid wardens began their beat, these were swiftly snuffed out.
The air raid sirens did a practice alarm and followed it with the sound of ‘all clear’, but hundreds of people had not been told about the rehearsal and they ran, clutching their valued possessions, down the nearest shelter and spend the night there, coming out the following morning to be teased and laughed at by friends.
Everyone was busy making sure they didn’t fall foul of the new regulations. Many made wooden frames which they covered with blackout paper. These were pushed into place to cover the windows every evening and they stood, bulky and inconvenient, against a wall during the day. ‘Put that light out!’ became a regular call during the hours of darkness.
Cecily and Ada sewed thick curtaining for the window between the living room and the shop and were convinced that it was a lot of work for what must surely be a brief war.
Their greatest worry was the possibility of Willie having to leave them. They depended on him for so many things. Already thousands of soldiers, sailors and air men had been called away from the town and Willie and Danny were in the age group to join them. One hundred and fifty-eight-thousand troops were transported across the Channel to begin the task of halting the German army in its march of occupation. A million – mostly children – were evacuated from areas considered to be potentially dangerous and all theatre and cinemas were closed, fearing the large number of casualties if a bomb landed on one of them.
Ambulance training was increased and as Ada and Cecily were by this time quite expert on the cumbersome vehicles, they began training others. Dorothy found a niche for herself at one of the new Citizen Advice Centres, one of 200 set up to assist if homes were destroyed and families scattered. As the risk of conscription loomed ever closer, hundreds of couple made hurried plans to marry.
Among these were Gareth and Rhonwen, who met at the register office with only Rhonwen’s daughter, Marged, plus two friends to act as witnesses, were married and went back to live at Rhonwen’s terraced house near Dorothy, on Snipe Street.
Gareth told his mother while holding Rhonwen’s hand and with Marged giggling behind him. He knew his mother would be shocked but decided that one shock, giving her no chance to try and dissuade him, was the kindest.
‘But you’re leaving me all alone, and with Hitler about to invade,’ she wailed, wiping her long nose with a cologne-soaked handkerchief. Gareth didn’t point out that he would probably be joining the army and leaving her anyway.
‘No, Mam, you don’t have to be alone, there’ll be plenty of soldiers looking for accommodation. Take in a couple of boarders. By looking after them, you’ll be doing your bit towards winning the war. We’ll help with cash, you won’t go short.’ He knew he’d taken the coward’s way of beginning his marriage, but with the threat of call-up he didn’t want to go away without having someone of his own to come back to. Telling his mother before the event would have been a sure way of getting it postponed.
Gareth, Rhonwen and Marged walked towards the neat house on Snipe Street and stopped at the top of the hill leading down to Owen’s shop where they bought fish and chips to take home for their wedding breakfast.
‘Tomorrow,’ he told his wife and stepdaughter, ‘we’re off on a week’s holiday and we’ll have grand food every day.’ But on the following morning, Danny brought them a letter stating that the hotel he had booked had closed, taken over by the army for the duration of the war.
Ada was worried about Phil. He seemed untouched by the talk of war; it all went over his head as unimportant as an announcement that tomorrow it might rain. He still wandered about at night and for a while she wondered if he’d gone back to his old ways and begun robbing houses. But no talk of burglaries reached her and their finances were only what she provided.
He rarely sl
ept in her bed; the sheets on his side were still untouched in the mornings although there was sometimes a dip on the counterpane where he had lain for a while with a coat wrapped around his shoulders, staring up at the ceiling. He still came to the shop with her each morning and returned every evening, not speaking to either Cecily or Van. Ada spoke of him to the doctor, who visited him occasionally and who offered little hope of an improvement, but said nothing about his behaviour to Cecily.
Cecily guessed from the drawn expression on Ada’s face that all was not well but since the accusations levelled at her by Phil, she didn’t risk opening up the subject of his mental state, although she was seriously worried.
Danny had started visiting again, arriving as Ada and Phil left each evening, sharing their meal and listening to the wireless for a couple of hours: programmes like Band Wagon with Arthur Askey and Stinker Murdoch provided a good laugh. Comedy shows were very popular; an easing of tension was necessary during the early weeks of the war, when every time the sun went down there was fear that this might be the night when the bombers would come.
The shelter below the stable was stocked with emergency food and a bottle was filled with water every evening and placed against the back door, to be carried if they should hear the dreaded siren and have to run to the shelter.
Cecily and Danny both noticed that Van’s door was never fully closed. Perhaps she was standing guard against Danny’s nocturnal wanderings towards her mother’s room. But Danny was careful and although he spent many hours with Cecily, they were convinced she never knew. A fifteen-year-old sleeps soundly.
Familiar faces began to disappear as men joined the forces; some driven by the thought of regular if small wages to help their families. Others were goaded on by brothers, cousins and friends who had already joined and among the first to go were Gareth, the sisters’ cousin Johnny Fowler, and Jack Simmons.
Paint on the Smiles Page 10