She went into his arms and held him tight. She loved him so, she thought her heart would break.
‘Dicken’s coming with me. Now shush, it has to be, they lost their jobs at the mine, this way he’ll be able to send money home, and me too . . . but what of you? You’re so thin, and I swear you look older, older than you should . . . ’ Mike could not say how he really felt, how sad he was to see his sister so gaunt, so pale. It was obvious to him that she was working herself into an early grave.
‘It’ll be for the best, Evie. With me and Dicken gone it should ease the burden on you. You have a lad? Someone that’s courting you?’
She hung her head as she walked alongside him, flushing bright red. ‘Be off with you, Mike, there’s no boy interested in me, an’ I’m too young yet even to be looking.’
Mike pulled her to him and kissed the top of her head.
‘You are special, Evie. Tell you what I’ll do, I’ll bring a handsome soldier home for you on my next leave.’
The two boys were dressed and ready. Evelyne slipped into the kitchen, afraid they would go without saying goodbye. Dicken ruffled her hair, but he was close to tears. ‘Take care of Da for us, we’ll be back.’
Mike smiled and blew her a kiss, as hand-in-hand with Dicken she walked them to the door. ‘Evie, think about seeing that schoolteacher. You’ll have more time now, promise me?’
She smiled but couldn’t speak, she was too close to tears.
‘Goodbye, darlin’, and God bless you.’
She watched her two brothers walk down the cobbled street, their arms about each other’s shoulders. Will came and stood behind her, put his arms around her, ‘So they’ve gone. Da was too drunk to understand last night; I’ll tell him.’
Deep down he knew his own days at home were numbered, he could be called up at any time.
Six months had passed since the school teacher’s visit, and Evelyne popped a note through Doris’ door. She had worked out how many hours a week she would be able to spend with Doris, although it had not been easy to arrange. Lizzie-Ann refused to take charge of little Davey so Mrs Pugh had promised to look after him.
‘I don’t know why you bother learning, Evie. Find yourself a boy, that’s what you should be doing.’
Evelyne looked at Lizzie-Ann. She was wearing only her bloomers with one of Will’s shirts over the top, her belly sticking out.
‘I’ve no interest in boys, Lizzie-Ann . . . if you could turn your charms on at the bakery I’d be grateful, we’ve no bread.’
‘I’ll do me Theda Bara for that old bugger . . . well, go on, if yer going.’
A plate of sweet, home-made biscuits and a glass of warm milk were waiting for Evelyne, and Doris had been back and forth to the window to see if she was really coming. All her precious books were laid out neatly on the table with a clean notebook, ready for work to begin.
Evelyne tapped the polished door knocker. She was acutely self-conscious about her appearance; her hair needed washing, her cardigan was darned and threadbare, even her skirt was torn at the hem. She wore a pair of her mother’s shoes, three sizes too large, and she went pink with shame when she noticed that her heels were black with soot.
‘Well, dear, better late than never. Now come in, wipe your feet on the mat.’
She stepped on to the gleaming linoleum in the narrow hall, her heart pounding, hardly able to say a word. She had never seen such lovely, gleaming furniture. There was a sofa covered in velvet with crocheted white cloths on the head rests, and there was a lovely rug in front of the fire.
‘You could eat your dinner off your floor, Mrs Evans.’
They sat at opposite sides of the table and gradually became more relaxed. Evelyne soon forgot her shyness and turned the pages eagerly, clapping her hands when she discovered a word she had not heard of before. She thumbed through Doris’ heavy dictionary.
‘And how, Evelyne, would you spell chameleon? Look it up . . . now remember, it might not begin with a “k”, it could be a “ch”, so search for the word . . .’
The wall clock chimed nine and Evelyne looked crestfallen.
‘Never mind, dear, we can continue next time.’
Evelyne found herself watching the clock in the kitchen waiting for Mrs Pugh to take little Davey, and then she was off, running as fast as her legs would carry her. Doris was always ready, standing at the door, biscuits and milk waiting on the table. She would dearly have loved to open her thin, bony arms and hug the child. Evelyne delighted her so, but she was too shy.
‘Oh listen, Mrs Evans, I know it by heart now. All night I practised just as you told me . . . “From her celestial car the Fairy Queen descended, and thrice she waved her wand, circled with wreaths of amaranth. Her thin and misty form moved with the moving air, and the clear silver tones as thus she spoke, were such as are unheard by all but the gifted ear”.’
Doris watched as Evelyne stood with her arms held up, her wondrous red hair wild from running, her cheeks flushed.
‘That was very good, dear, now drink your milk, and remember descend is “s” before “c”.’
She nibbled her thin lips, watching Evelyne eagerly thumbing through the dictionary. She had received a letter from her brother more than two weeks ago, and had spent sleepless nights over it. His wife had died – not that that had disturbed Doris in any way, far from it – but he had invited Doris to stay. He had said it was time they forgot their old wounds. And she did, after all, own part of the house.
‘Evie . . . Evelyne dear, I’m going to Cardiff.’
Seeing the desperate, haunted look on her young pupil’s face made her swallow hard.
‘Oh, will you be gone long, Mrs Evans?’ The child’s thin hands clenched and unclenched. She was fighting back the tears at the thought of losing her precious lessons.
‘Not long, but I was wondering if your father would give his permission . . . of course, I would pay your train fare and any expenses . . . would you like to come with me? Just a weekend trip? We could see the museums. Would you like to come?’
Evelyne was up and out of her chair, hugging Doris so tightly that she could hardly catch her breath. Evelyne’s kiss was frantic, but then she raised her fist and bit her knuckles. ‘I don’t think it would be possible, but thank you ever so.’
Doris had confused herself, she had not really intended asking the child. Yet now it seemed imperative that she should go. The life flooding through her tired, empty shell was turning Doris into a new woman.
‘Well, I won’t take no for an answer, and here, look, I’ve a few things put by for you.’
Rushing into her immaculate bedroom, Doris pulled open a drawer, even pushing aside her wedding dress as she searched through her neatly folded clothes and wrapped a selection in brown paper. Knowing the child possessed only the poor things she stood up in, she told Evelyne she had no need for them any more.
Evelyne carried the brown paper parcel up to her room and inspected the skirt, cardigan and blouse Doris had given her. They were nearly new and smelt of mothballs. There was not a single darn or hole and even though they were old-fashioned and not a very flattering colour, Evelyne thought they were fit for a queen.
‘Well, will you look at her, Will, if she doesn’t look a lady! Now, don’t you worry, Evie love, we’ll take care of everything, and if you don’t hurry you’ll miss the train.’
Evelyne kissed everyone, checked that Lizzie-Ann knew what to do for little Davey, and gave her so many instructions that they almost got into a fight. Doris wouldn’t come in, but stood on the doorstep with her overnight case. As the two went down the street Lizzie-Ann stared after them, then slammed the door. She turned on Will.
‘There’ll be no livin’ with her when she gets back. Wish to God I’d never got meself married, I’d be in London by now, and that’s where I’m going, you mark my words.’
Good-natured as ever, Will said nothing, didn’t even mention that he’d received his call-up papers that morning.
Chapte
r 4
Doris had packed a small picnic for the train, and they shared it as the train puffed its way across the valley. Evelyne was more like a child of six than a fourteen-year-old, pointing out of the window, moving from one side of the carriage to the other, unable to keep still for excitement. She smoothed her skirt with her hands, mimicking everything Doris did, acting the lady.
‘Now, Evelyne, pack everything neat and tidy, don’t leave any rubbish on the train. We’ll put it in a bin when we get to Cardiff.’
Evelyne would have eaten the brown paper wrappings if Doris had asked her, she was so thrilled. She grew quieter as the train slowed its pace and moved into the siding at Cardiff Central Station. In clipped tones fit for a sergeant major in the Salvation Army, Doris barked orders to Evelyne.
‘Tickets, handbag, case, exit up ahead, keep close by me . . . now then, we have to get a tram to Clifton Street.’
When they were seated on the top of the tram, Evelyne turned her head this way and that, her heart thudding in her chest.
‘Oh, Mrs Evans, look at the castle, it is just beautiful, and the grass, is it not greener than at home? Oh, look, look at the motor vehicles!’
Some of the passengers sniggered as she shouted in excitement.
‘Evelyne, dear, you don’t need to shout, I am right next to you, not in an open field . . . speak softly, child, it’s not ladylike to shout.’
As they got off the tram Evelyne clung tightly to Doris’ hand and almost got them run over, she was so unused to the traffic.
‘Taxi . . . Taxi . . .’
Evelyne clapped her hand over her mouth to stop herself shouting out. She had never seen a taxi like it. It had red leather seats, and the driver wore a peaked cap. They got into the back seat and Doris rapped on the glass partition with her umbrella.
‘Clifton Villas, number thirty.’
The taxi drew up outside one of a row of bow-fronted, Victorian houses, with white steps leading up to the front door and more steps leading down to the servants’ entrance behind the basement railings. Evelyne followed Doris like a lamb, waiting quietly as she lifted the ornate brass knocker. A maid in a black dress with a frilly white apron and cap ushered them through a dark hallway leading to what looked to Evelyne like a palace. There were paintings and china everywhere, chiming clocks, and the drawing-room furniture was covered in velvet, everything in rusty, autumn colours.
‘Doris dear, how good to see you, come in, come in.’
Doris kissed the pale lips, identical to her own, and the dapper little Dr Collins gave Evelyne a formal bow and adjusted his pince-nez as he ushered them in. He spoke so quietly that Evelyne could not catch everything he said, but he was so clean and fresh in his starched white collar. It was obvious he and Doris were brother and sister, Dr Collins was so like her, but Evelyne watched Doris change in front of her eyes. She became stiff and formal, and after their initial greetings they appeared to have nothing to say to each other.
‘Would the gel like tea, Doris ?’
Evelyne stood rooted to the spot, staring down at the rose-patterned carpet. The house was carpeted everywhere, she couldn’t believe it. Her feet sank into the pile, into two dusty pink roses.
‘Sit down, Evelyne, and say hello to Dr Collins.’
Evelyne perched gingerly on the edge of a velvet sofa, feeling its softness beneath her hands. She swallowed, about to say, ‘How do you do’, but he went over to the fireplace and rang a bell beside it. Evelyne noticed the pretty rose-patterned tiles around the fireplace.
‘You keeping well then, Doris ? Tea, Minnie, straightaway.’
Minnie bobbed a small curtsey and scuttled out, leaving the door ajar.
‘Your practice well, is it, dear?’
‘Well, it keeps me on my toes, ya know . . . glad you could come, makes a nice change, and young David will be pleased to make your acquaintance. He’s a fine chap, fine boy . . . ah, good, tea.’
The tea was wheeled in on a trolley. There were small cucumber sandwiches, little cup cakes, and a big currant cake with a frilled collar. The maid poured the tea and handed plates and napkins. Evelyne found it very difficult to balance her plate, napkin, teacup and saucer, and looked to Doris for help.
‘Get the gel a side table, Minnie.’
Minnie brought a small table to Evelyne’s side then picked up the sugar bowl.
‘You take sugar, Miss?’
Evelyne nodded and waited, then realized that the maid was waiting for her to help herself. She was all thumbs and picked up what she thought was a spoon, but it seemed to be two spoons in one.
‘Use the tongs, child, don’t use your fingers.’
Just as she had her mouth full the Doctor spoke.
‘So this is your young protégé. And how do you find Cardiff, Evelyne?’
Evelyne swallowed and gulped and spluttered as the sandwich went down the wrong way. Doris moved quickly to her and patted her on the back, concerned.
‘You must never speak with your mouth full, dear.’
Dr Collins consulted his fob watch and stood up, saying he had to make his rounds. Evelyne couldn’t help but think how much Doc Clock would have liked that watch.
‘Ahh, this sounds like David . . . yes, he’s here,’ the Doctor beamed with pride, standing at the bay window. ‘He’s got some high-society friends now, Doris, he’s at the university. Oh, I wrote, yes, I remember I told you, well-connected people, be good for his profession, going to be a lawyer, did I tell you? Ah, yes, I suppose I did . . . yes, his mother would have been proud of him, God rest her soul.’
Doris crossed herself, and Evelyne looked from one to the other. She had not thought the doctor could ever have been married or have a son.
There was a bellow from the hall.
‘Minnie . . . Minnie! Minnie! Anyone call for me while I was out?’
They heard laughter, then the double doors of the drawing-room were flung open. David Collins made his entrance like an actor. His blond hair shone like silk, his perfectly tailored grey suit hugged his tall, slender frame. He was very self-assured, his ice-blue eyes twinkled. ‘Aunt Doris, well I never, Pa mentioned you would be arriving, do forgive me for not being here to welcome you.’
Unaware that her mouth had dropped open, Evelyne stared. He could have been a prince, she had never in her life seen a man so handsome. He bowed over Doris’ outstretched hand and kissed it, then turned his attention to Evelyne. He had no trace of a Welsh accent.
‘And you must be Elaine, how do you do?’
As Evelyne half stood, her plate in one hand and cup and saucer in the other her cake rolled off the plate and landed by his highly polished grey kid boots.
‘Absolutely the place for Mrs Darwin’s cakes, my dear. Minnie! Come along, gel, and bring a dustpan and brush . . . now, Pa, can I get you more tea? Aunt?’
David dominated the room – lifted the mood as if the sun had suddenly shone in through the windows. He wore a delicate perfume, like lilies, that filled the air.
Doris rose from her chair. ‘Well, if you’ll excuse us I think we’ll have a little sightseeing tour, and a wash and change before dinner. Evelyne, dear, have you finished?’
Flushing, Evelyne put her china down on the tray, and stood with head bowed, so tongue-tied it made her desperate to visit the bathroom. Doris took her arm and pulled her towards the door. David watched them leave, waiting until the door closed behind them, then looked at his father with raised eyebrows.
‘Are they staying long?’
Dr Collins dabbed at his mouth with his napkin, ‘Just the weekend, just the weekend.’ David flipped his silk handkerchief out of his pocket and flicked a cake crumb from his boot.
‘Is the skinny child an orphan? Smells quite dreadful, and one couldn’t really say she was frightfully clean.’
After ringing again for Minnie to clear away, Dr Collins went towards the door.
‘Couldn’t spare a fiver, Pa? Bit short, only I have to take a couple of chaps to dinner thi
s evening.’
‘I would like it if you dined at home. Doris hasn’t been here for many years. It would show a bit of respect.’
David whistled, irritated, then sprang to his feet.
‘Okie dokie, but between you and me, it’s no wonder Mother kept her at arm’s length, what?’
At times Dr Collins loathed his son’s supercilious attitude, but then he could be so charming the doctor gave him whatever he wanted, as did everyone else.
David turned abruptly, moving like a dancer, swept out of the room and bounded up the stairs two or three at a time. Evelyne was standing at the top, on her way to the bathroom, carrying a fresh white towel. They almost collided.
‘Sorry, Elaine, bathroom’s second door on your right.’
She didn’t have the nerve to correct him, just blushed and scuttled past. At the bottom of the stairs Mrs Darwin stood smiling, her big red face glowing.
‘Now then, Master David, will you be having dinner at home?’
‘I will, Mrs Darwin, light of my life . . . oh, Mrs D, will you make sure my shirts are not folded, just put on the hangers, can’t stand the creases . . . thanks awfully.’
Mrs Darwin shrugged her shoulders and plodded back down to the basement, passing Minnie.
‘Prince Edward himself wants his shirts not folded, he’ll be wanting me to press his socks next.’
The marble bathroom was like a wonderland. Evelyne touched the white bath, the washbasin, and gasped with delight as she turned on the taps. Hot and cold water!
What would Lizzie-Ann have to say, hot and cold, and a toilet of their own with a cord that flushed it.
‘Evelyne, dear, have you run your bath? Don’t be too long, we won’t have too much time for sightseeing.’
In his room, David sighed. ‘Sightseeing’ . . . dear God, he hoped none of his friends would show up during his aunt’s stay.
Doris and Evelyne spent the rest of the afternoon in the museums and wandering around the castle. Everything was a wonder to Evelyne. They were both tired when they returned so Doris suggested they take a little nap before dinner. Evelyne was loving every minute of it. Her small single bed with its crisp white sheets was heaven, and she dozed blissfully. She was still snoozing at dinner-time, and Doris woke her. She was embarrassed to see that Doris had changed. She had only one clean blouse.
The Legacy (1987) Page 5