Tilly's Story

by June Francis

  Alice clenched her fists. ‘Why should I pity him? If only you had been there when Mam died.’

  Tilly flinched. ‘You’re forgetting I was. She died giving me life. Have you ever thought that I might feel guilty about that?’

  Alice paled and stretched out a hand to her sister. ‘Sorry! I didn’t mean for you to feel like that. I—’

  ‘Probably not but it’s true,’ interrupted Tilly. ‘I share the guilt about her death with Dad. It’s something that binds us together.’ Emotion clogged her throat and tears itched her eyes. She fought them back, lowering her head, hoping the brim of her hat would conceal her face from her sister’s gaze. Her tears ran down her face and splashed on her mother’s grave.

  ‘Stop it! Don’t cry!’ Alice’s voice cracked. ‘You aren’t to blame. But you never knew her so how can you miss her the way I do? He’s to blame that my children don’t have a loving grandmother to care for them only Seb’s blinking mother, and we don’t see much of her now she’s moved to Liverpool.’

  ‘That’s because you chased her away,’ said Tilly, wiping her damp face with the back of her hand.

  ‘No, I didn’t,’ protested Alice. ‘She was fed up of living with us. She wanted to be near that-that police sergeant who kept inviting her to concerts. She wants to try and recapture the old days when she was someone on the stage. She can’t accept that she’s past it.’

  ‘There you go again!’ cried Tilly, glaring at her. ‘Why shouldn’t Gabrielle have a go at doing what she wants before it’s too late? She can belt out a decent song and she’s quite attractive for her age.’

  ‘Attractive!’ gasped Alice. ‘She’s mutton dressed as lamb. If she had any morals at all then she’d accept that she’s getting old and be a proper grandmother to her grandchildren. She’s as bad as Mrs Black, getting married in her dotage.’

  ‘Now you are exaggerating,’ said Tilly, deciding it was time to leave. She reached for the lemonade bottle and put in the stopper. ‘Mrs Black has all her marbles. And she does care about people.’

  ‘So you say but I don’t believe it. It’s money she cares about. I can’t understand a charming and seemingly sensible man like Mr Bennett marrying her,’ said Alice. ‘But then he did marry Seb’s mother and that was a big mistake, too.’

  ‘Don’t be bitchy,’ snapped Tilly. ‘You really have got it in for the three of them. I’d hate Dad to be right about you turning into a bigot like his mother.’

  Alice’s face paled and her fists clenched. ‘How dare you throw his words in my face! You’ve been spoilt, that’s your problem.’

  ‘Spoilt? How?’ Tilly was startled. ‘I’ve acted as nursemaid to your children and been gardener, cook and housemaid, as well. I admit I’ve had plenty of love and attention but there’s a lot I’ve missed out on, too’ she countered. ‘I grew up never knowing my parents. I know yours and Kenny’s childhood wasn’t exactly a bundle of laughs but life hasn’t treated you too badly since. You have a good husband, three lovely children and a nice home. What more could you ask for?’

  The colour flooded back into Alice’s face and she yelled, ‘I want my sister to be on my side!’

  ‘I don’t want to take sides,’ said Tilly heatedly, placing the empty bottle in her shopping bag.

  ‘You might have to,’ said Alice forcefully. ‘I can’t relax while you’re seeing him. I worry he might suddenly explode and lash out at you or even turn up at the house and hurt the children.’

  Tilly stared at her incredulously. ‘I don’t know how you can believe that about him these days. You should take a proper look at him.’ She glanced to where she had last seen her father, but he was no longer there. Guilt filled her. ‘Damn you, Alice! You’ve frightened him away.’

  She looked about her and caught sight of Mal shuffling along the path in the direction of the gates. For a moment she hesitated, thinking that if she let her father go, she might still have a chance of seeing Don, always assuming Seb had left a message at the house for her saying where they were meeting. Then Tilly remembered her father’s uncertain mental state and, concerned he might do something foolish, she knew that she had no choice but to go after him.

  She left her sister and ran to catch up with her father. Slipping her hand through his arm she said, ‘I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t expect her to turn up and spoil everything.’

  ‘She still hates me,’ he mumbled. ‘She’s filled with hate.’

  ‘Let’s forget about her,’ said Tilly. ‘What do you want to do next?’

  ‘What do I want to do, lass? I want to go home. Get back to my garden where it’s peaceful and quiet.’

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ said Tilly, hoping there might still be a chance of her seeing Don later that day. Right now, though, she had to reassure her father that he was her first priority.

  Chapter Two

  Tilly entered the house, unsure of her welcome after the flaming row with her sister. It was early evening and she made for the stairs, hoping to get to the sanctuary of her bedroom and compose herself before facing Alice. She needed to ask her whether there had been any messages from Seb or Don.

  She was halfway up the stairs when she heard the living room door open and footsteps in the hall below. ‘Tilly, I want a word with you.’ Her heart performed a somersault at the sound of Seb’s voice. Was it possible Don was with him?

  She hurried back down the stairs. ‘What is it? Is Don here?’

  ‘So you haven’t forgotten him?’ asked Seb tersely.

  ‘Of course not!’ She realised that her brother-in-law was far from pleased with her. ‘But I’d promised Dad that I’d meet him. I couldn’t break a promise.’

  Seb stared at her from his good eye; the empty socket of the other was concealed by a black patch. ‘Tilly, I understand the importance of keeping a promise, but surely you could have made some excuse? Mrs Black has a telephone, doesn’t she?’

  ‘I’m sorry. It was today that Dad and I wanted to visit Mam’s grave because of it being her birthday.’ She hesitated. ‘So what did Don have to say? Was he angry?’

  ‘He was disappointed,’ said Seb, his frown deepening. ‘He really believed you’d want to see him.’

  Tilly moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘Of course I want to see him. I thought that perhaps if you had the name of his hotel in Liverpool I could go and see him now.’

  ‘You’re too late, Tilly. Don has a very tight schedule, that’s why he asked you to meet him as soon as he arrived in Liverpool. He didn’t come over here purely to see you. He’s come to Europe to work.’

  The colour flamed in Tilly’s cheeks. ‘He never mentioned anything about a tight schedule to me.’

  ‘He could hardly say much in a wire, could he?’

  ‘So-so where is he now?’ asked Tilly, realising she wanted to see Don much more than she had thought, now that a meeting seemed out of the question.

  ‘On his way to London.’

  ‘London!’ Tilly was stunned. ‘So soon? Why?’

  ‘The journal he works for wants photographs of how Londoners are coping with the aftermath of the war. After that he’s off to Europe.’

  Tilly was hurt. ‘Why couldn’t he have told me this in his last letter? I didn’t even know he was coming here until I received his telegram.’

  ‘He planned on surprising you, taking you out for a meal in Liverpool and telling you then. This London commission was something that only came up when he was on the ship. The journal wired him about it. It’s a pity it’s too late to do anything about seeing him now if that’s how you really feel.’

  ‘Yes, it’s too late,’ said Tilly, a tremor in her voice.

  Seb’s face softened. ‘He thought you didn’t care enough about him to want him as a husband in the future.’

  Tilly sighed and folded her arms, leaning against the wall. ‘Perhaps it’s just as well we didn’t meet if he couldn’t delay his journey for one day. Summoning me out of the blue to be at the Pierhead as if I had nothing bette
r to do. Just because he’s so much older he thinks he can treat me like a child.’

  ‘I don’t think he thinks that at all,’ said Seb patiently. ‘Age has nothing to do with it. He needed to see your expression when you saw him again. Not every girl would want to marry a cripple however comfortably off he is even if she was fond of him.’

  Tilly’s hazel eyes narrowed. ‘Did someone say that to him? Or is he remembering what happened when Alice saw your face for the first time, not knowing you had lost an eye? I never mention his foot. He hasn’t gone and had it amputated without telling me, has he?’

  ‘No. But it causes him a lot of pain.’

  ‘He never speaks about it in his letters,’ said Tilly. ‘No doubt he thinks I’ve forgotten because I don’t ask about it. Well, I haven’t. Because I’ll never forget my first sight of the pair of you. I thought you were both heroes and that’s how I still feel about Don and you.’

  ‘I’m touched, Tilly,’ said Seb, his voice uneven.

  She smiled slightly. ‘Perhaps I should have written and told him.’

  ‘He’s twenty-seven next January and he doesn’t want your pity. Saying, “I think you’re a hero the way you cope with the pain” isn’t particularly what he wants to hear from you,’ said Seb.

  ‘Maybe not. It makes me wonder if he wants to settle down now rather than wait until I come of age. If that is the case, then maybe he’d be better off forgetting about me and finding a woman nearer his own age,’ she said with a catch in her voice. ‘He shouldn’t have any difficulty. After all, women outnumber men, don’t they?’

  ‘And who will you marry when you think you’re ready to do so if you don’t marry Don?’ asked Alice, who had quietly entered the hall from the direction of the kitchen. ‘As you say, there’s a shortage of men.’

  Tilly stared at her sister. ‘How long have you been there?’

  ‘Long enough. Don’s a good man. He could provide for you and you’d have a decent future with him.’

  ‘I wouldn’t argue with that,’ said Tilly. ‘But I’m not ready to rush into marriage just because you want to get rid of me.’

  Alice flushed. ‘Who said anything about wanting to get rid of you? And I didn’t say anything about rushing into marriage,’ she added with an edge to her voice. ‘You might be old in the head in some ways but you still need to grow up and take the advice of your elders.’

  Tilly tilted her chin. ‘That last bit is to do with Dad, isn’t it?’

  ‘You take it anyway you want,’ said Alice, turning to shoo the children into the sitting room as they crowded behind her.

  ‘I will,’ said Tilly, ‘and I’ll tell you now, big sister, that marriage is the last thing I need for the next few years. I want a career.’

  ‘A career!’ Alice raised her eyes and looked up at the ceiling. ‘Do you hear her, God?’ She lowered her gaze. ‘Do you really believe you’ll be able to make enough money from your writing to support yourself? The odd piece in the local newspaper or a magazine isn’t going to be enough to do that, little sister.’

  Tilly flushed with anger. ‘I’m not daft! I know I need to have another job to keep me going until I write my novel and get it published. But it is possible to make a living from writing. There are several very successful women writers in this country.’

  ‘That’s true, Alice,’ said Seb.

  Alice frowned him down. ‘Don’t encourage her! I’m not trying to be cruel but Tilly needs to mature before she can write about life and love. She needs to discipline herself and control her emotions. Now, if she’d gone to see Don, we would never have had that terrible argument in the cemetery. If she’d seen Don, she could have become engaged to him and they could have got married when she was twenty-one. By then she’d know more about life and he’d be able to support her, and writing could be a nice little hobby for her.’

  Tilly was deeply offended. ‘You think I’d marry Don just as a means to support me? I wouldn’t do that. Besides, I’d have to live in America and I’m not leaving Dad. Neither do I regard my writing as a hobby!’ She produced a cutting from the Liverpool Echo and thrust it at her sister. ‘Read this!’

  Alice brushed it aside. ‘Then more fool you, Tilly. Life isn’t a bowl of cherries with you getting the pick of the best ones. You’re not going to change Dad, you know. He’ll hurt you. Just like he hurt me.’

  ‘Enough said, Alice,’ warned Seb.

  ‘I wondered when you’d bring Dad into this,’ said Tilly in a fierce undertone. ‘I’ve a good mind to leave.’

  ‘The sooner the better,’ said Alice.

  ‘Suits me,’ said Tilly, making to walk away.

  Seb grabbed her arm. ‘Neither of you means this,’ he said.

  ‘She does,’ said Tilly.

  ‘No, she doesn’t,’ said Seb, seizing hold of Alice’s arm and trying to bring the sisters closer together. ‘Say you didn’t mean it, Alice?’

  ‘No. It’s her fault,’ said Alice, trying to free herself. ‘She just won’t listen to me.’

  ‘Enough,’ roared Seb. ‘Now, both of you say sorry before I really lose my temper.’

  Alice stared at him stubbornly. Gently, Tilly removed Seb’s hand from her arm. ‘I’m sorry that things have come to this. As soon as I can arrange it, I’ll be out of here. Until then, I’d appreciate it if you could keep Dad out of any future conversations between us, Alice.’

  Alice laughed. ‘I suppose you think Kenny and Hanny will take you in? It’s the sort of selfish thing you would think.’

  Tilly had given no thought to where she would go but now she did and knew that living with her other relatives was out of the question. There were enough people in that house already and she would end up having no privacy and neither would they.

  She gazed down at the cutting her sister had refused to look at and read for the umpteenth time: ‘Decline of Matrimony as a Profession – Women in the Industrial World’ by Annie S Swan. Annie S Swan, Elise Grange, Elinor Glyn, Ethel M Dell had all succeeded as writers. She would show her sister that she did not need her family or a man to support her but would do so by her own efforts. She would find a new job and somewhere else to live. But until the day came when she had secured both she was going to have to steer clear of arguments with her sister.

  * * *

  ‘What are you doing?’ asked Alice, entering Tilly’s bedroom a few weeks later.

  ‘What do you think I’m doing?’ asked Tilly, tensing as she met her sister’s eyes in the mirror.

  ‘You’re wearing my hat,’ said Alice, picking up a discarded frock from the floor.

  ‘You can leave that frock, I’ll deal with it,’ murmured Tilly, not wanting an argument. She twisted a strand of red-gold hair round a finger, hoping the curl would stay in place. ‘And if you mean that I’m wearing a hat you made for me, then, yes, I am. Although, I was of the opinion that the hat was mine.’

  ‘Of course it’s yours. I just wish you weren’t wearing it for that woman’s wedding.’

  Immediately, Tilly removed the hat and flung it on the bed. ‘I’ll go bareheaded. Satisfied?’ Her eyes smouldered as she reached for the lipstick on the cut glass trinket tray. The colour was Oxblood and extremely fashionable with those bright young things that the press were calling flappers.

  ‘I didn’t intend for you to go hatless,’ said Alice, throwing the dress on the bed beside the hat. ‘I just want you to be reasonable and see my point of view. Why do you want to go to this wedding? It’s not as if Mrs Black was an aunt or a friend of mine.’

  ‘She’s always been nice to me and I don’t consider your not liking her a good excuse for me to turn down her invitation. Besides, if the rest of my family have accepted their invitations, I don’t see why I shouldn’t,’ said Tilly, unscrewing the lipstick. ‘You could be going, too, if you weren’t so stubborn; a little dickybird told me that Mr Bennett had personally invited both you and Seb.’

  It was the wrong thing for her to say. Alice was already annoyed because K
enny and his wife, her lifelong friend, Hanny, had accepted an invitation to the wedding. It was the same with Freddie and Clara, who was Seb’s cousin. Alice knew that, despite her husband not having said a word against her decision not to go, he was disappointed. She could not understand why when he knew only too well what her feelings were towards Mrs Black. Tilly’s defiance was the last straw and Alice’s control over her temper snapped.

  ‘You’re not going out wearing lipstick. You’re only sixteen,’ she said in a seething voice.

  ‘Seventeen next week,’ murmured Tilly, trembling inwardly as she pursed her lips.

  ‘You’re still too young to paint your face.’

  ‘I’m not painting my face, only my lips. Do I have to be a certain age to do that? You thought it was OK for me to become engaged at my age,’ said Tilly, applying lipstick to her bottom lip.

  ‘Don’t be cheeky!’ Alice made a grab for the lipstick.

  Tilly yelped as her sister’s actions caused the lipstick to paint a sweeping line across her cheek and jaw before breaking. ‘Now see what you’ve done!’ she cried, staring at the ruined lipstick. ‘Do you know how much this cost me?’

  ‘You shouldn’t be wasting your money on lipsticks. It proves that you’re being paid too much. Now go and wash it off.’ Alice pointed to the door.

  Tilly decided that her sister really had gone too far this time. She was not going to stand for Alice bossing her about anymore. She had been kicking her heels since their last quarrel, reluctant to move out despite the atmosphere between them. She had been scanning the pages in the Liverpool Echo looking for a job that would suit her but so far she’d had no luck. She reached for a soiled handkerchief and wiped the lipstick from her cheek and the line of her jaw. Fortunately she had already filled in her lower lip and now she pressed it against the upper one.

  She stood up and the deep green pleats that fell from a band of paler green about her hips flared about her calves. The bodice of the frock was a matching deep green and the collar and cuffs were the same pale green as the hip band. She stared at her sister. ‘Could you get out of my bedroom, please? I want to finish getting ready.’