Welcome Home

by Margaret Dickinson

  ‘You sit there, Mam. I’ll get the tea on.’

  Edie blinked and glanced up at the girl as she rose to go into the scullery. ‘What are you wanting to borrow, bein’ so helpful all of a sudden?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Shirley said airily, but her mother knew there was something she was not telling her. Edie knew her daughter too well to be deceived.

  When they’d finished the cheese omelette that Shirley had made with the fresh eggs and cheese and she’d poured her mother a cup of tea, Edie sat back, burped gently and patted her chest. ‘That was nice but I reckon I’ll suffer for it.’

  ‘We’ve not been used to decent food for so long,’ Shirley said, pushing the cup and saucer towards her mother. ‘But surely, now the war’s over, things’ll get back to normal, won’t they?’

  ‘Not straight away. Me an’ Lil were only saying’ – the words came automatically before she’d stopped to think – ‘we reckon rationing will continue for a while yet.’

  There was silence between them, but Shirley was drumming her fingertips on the table.

  ‘So, out with it then, miss. What have you been up to?’

  For a moment Shirley hesitated and then said bluntly, ‘I’ve written to our Frank and told him.’

  Edie stared at her daughter. ‘You shouldn’t have done that. You should have waited till—’

  ‘He got home? I don’t think so, Mam. He’s got a right to know what that little trollop’s been up to.’

  Edie leaned across the table as she said slowly, ‘And what if he doesn’t come home at all now? What if he stays away because you’ve interfered in summat that’s not your business?’

  Shocked, Shirley stared back. ‘It is our business and,’ she repeated firmly, without a hint of apology in her tone, ‘he’s a right to know.’

  ‘But if he doesn’t come home,’ Edie said menacingly, ‘if I lose another one of me family, I’ll blame you.’

  Shirley’s mouth twisted. ‘Oh, I get it. You and your precious boys! You don’t really care that I’m not coming back here permanently, do you?’ She sprang to her feet. ‘I don’t reckon you even care that much whether Beth comes home or not, do you?’ She paused and then shouted. ‘Do you?’

  ‘Of course I care about you and Beth,’ Edie said wearily, but they were both uncomfortably aware that her tone lacked conviction.

  ‘What’s this I hear?’

  Lil had opened the front door in answer to the urgent knocking, fearful of what would greet her. When she’d seen who her visitor was, her mouth had dropped open.

  ‘Norma. Good heavens! What are you doing here? Is something wrong?’

  Norma stepped across the threshold without waiting for an invitation. ‘Don’t let’s discuss private matters in view of the whole street, though I expect they all know. Bad news travels fast and there’re a lot of nosy parkers in this street. You should have moved back home like I wanted you to when Tom died.’

  Lil didn’t answer. At the time, their mother had still been alive and had become a querulous, demanding woman, disappointed and bitter with her lot; traits that would only worsen as she grew older. Lil had known that the real reason her sister had wanted her to move in there had been because she had wanted help to look after the family. But Lil – with Edie’s support at the time – had resisted and a frostiness had developed between the sisters as a result. They had never been close. Norma resented the fact that Lil had ‘escaped’ from the unhappy home life by marrying Tom, leaving her to cope with their quarrelling parents and younger siblings. Lil had shuddered – and she did so again now – at the thought of what life would have been like ‘back home’ after an all-too-brief glimpse of real happiness with Tom.

  ‘It’s not fair,’ Norma had complained at the time. ‘I’ve not had the chances you’ve had.’ Indeed she had not. Norma had never been a pretty child and had grown into a plain-looking young woman who didn’t even try to make the best of herself. She’d sneered at the girls of her own age who tried to keep up as best they could with the latest fashions, the new hairstyles and experimenting with cosmetics.

  ‘What’s the use?’ she’d grumbled. ‘There aren’t enough men to go round.’ The observation was true; the Great War had taken a whole generation of young men and left many girls facing the future as spinsters. And if truth be known, Norma had been – and probably still was – jealous of her prettier sister, Lily.

  So Lil had not moved back home but had clung to the little house her husband had found and the remnants of the life she and Tom had dreamed of.

  Back then, she thought sadly, she had had Edie’s strength and support.

  ‘So,’ Norma said now, marching through the narrow hallway to the living room. ‘Is it true?’ She flung open the door and then paused on the threshold, her hand still on the door knob as her disapproving gaze came to rest on Irene sitting in front of the fire with the baby girl on her lap. ‘Ah, I see that it is.’

  Lil sighed as she closed the front door and went through to the scullery, pushing past her sister and muttering. ‘I’ll make us some tea.’

  ‘Tea won’t solve this little how d’ya do,’ Norma snapped, drawing off her gloves and sitting down at the table.

  Norma was now a middle-aged, plump woman, with lines of bitterness etched deeply into her face. Fine red veins marked her round cheeks and her hair, showing premature signs of grey, was drawn back into a bun at the nape of her neck. Her long black coat and her manly shoes were the same ones she’d worn for years; Irene couldn’t remember ever seeing her in anything else. Her disapproving glance raked over her niece and the child, but Irene met her gaze squarely. This was the one person whose criticism didn’t affect her; she didn’t care tuppence for her aunt’s censure.

  ‘Aunty Norma.’ Irene forced a smile. ‘How nice.’

  Norma snorted. ‘Nice? Is that what you call it?’

  As Lil came back carrying a tray of cups and saucers, Norma turned on her. ‘You’d do best to pack her off back to the countryside. Her and both her brats. We’ve never had scandal in the family.’

  Lil placed the tray on the table carefully, resisting the urge to pick up a cup and throw it at her sister. ‘Oh,’ she said, with surprising calmness, considering her inner turmoil, ‘Are you sure, Norma, with an alcoholic father and a whining mother? It was hardly a secret down our street, now was it?’

  ‘Father was not an alcoholic. How dare you say such a thing!’

  ‘He spent more time in the local pub than he did at home, Norma, or has he become the perfect father now he’s gone?’

  Norma wriggled her shoulders. ‘You shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, Lil. ’Tain’t seemly.’

  Lil pushed the tea towards Norma. ‘I’ve no sugar,’ she said shortly without a word of apology.

  ‘I no longer take sugar in my tea,’ Norma said loftily. ‘I haven’t done since the beginning of the war.’

  ‘Who has?’ Lil muttered and sat down on the other side of the table to drink her own tea.

  ‘So,’ Norma said again, ‘What are we going to do about it?’

  Lil glanced at her but it was Irene who spoke up. ‘I’m staying here until Frank gets home and then we’ll see.’

  Norma laughed, but there was no humour in the sound. ‘Oh, we’ll see then all right. He’ll throw you out on your ear, that’s what Frank Kelsey will do, my girl.’ She turned towards Lil and jerked her head towards the wall between the two houses. ‘And what’s she got to say about it? Plenty, I shouldn’t wonder.’

  Again, it was Irene who spoke up. ‘Aunty Edie is upset. Naturally. But it’s Frank who has to decide. It’s up to him.’ Irene got up. ‘And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll take my little bastard upstairs out of your sight.’

  ‘Well!’ Norma exclaimed. ‘I never did. I’m appalled, Lil, I really am. I never thought to hear such language coming from a member of our family. She’s nothing but a common whore and you’d do best to rid yourself of her and her brat if you want to be able to hold your head up ever
again in this community.’

  ‘I’ll do no such thing,’ Lil said hotly, seeming to be able to stand up to Norma far better than she could to Edie. The difference was that she minded what Edie thought. It mattered to her, whilst she couldn’t have cared less about Norma’s bigoted opinions. ‘Like Irene said, we’re waiting for Frank to come home.’

  Norma smiled nastily as she asked, ‘Are you sure he’ll come home at all now?’

  To this, Lil had no answer.

  Forty-Two

  As the dock tower came into view, Archie felt the familiar rising excitement and yet, over the war years, there was always a tinge of fear too. Safely home from another trip, he’d soon see Edie and hear the latest news of the rest of the family. But he never knew if that news would be good or bad; he’d never forget his homecoming when Frank had been waiting on the dockside in June 1940 just after Dunkirk. He’d seen his son as his ship nosed its way to its berth and he’d known at once that something was very wrong. When they’d been children, they’d often been there waiting for him, but recently no one had come to meet him.

  Ever since that day he’d anxiously scanned the quayside, looking for any member of the family, and when he couldn’t see anyone, he’d breathed a sigh of relief and turned his attention to off-loading his catch and doing all the necessary tasks at the end of a trip.

  But this time, Shirley was waiting. He felt his heart contract. Was Edie ill? Or was it Frank? Had something happened to Frank in the very last moments of the conflict? That would be ironic and so hard to bear. Or – no, no, NO – not his Beth. And the very fact that it was Shirley standing there when she should have been away with the ATS added to his anxiety. He wanted to rush ashore, to clatter down the gangway as soon as it was in place, but he could not. He was the skipper and by his own rules he was always the last one to leave. Whatever it was – and he was sure by now that it was bad news of some kind – it would have to wait. When at last he left the ship, it was to find Shirley shivering on the quayside in the cold wind that blew in from the North Sea, even in May.

  At once he put his arm around her. ‘What is it, love?’ he asked at once. ‘Cos I know it’s summat by you being here.’

  ‘Oh Dad!’ For a moment Shirley clung to him, comforted by his presence. Archie had always shown her love and understanding, though she had the sneaking feeling that Beth was really his favourite. But he never let it show and perhaps it was her own insecurity that led her to even think such a thing. Whenever he brought Beth a present, there was always a similar one for Shirley. When he took Beth out, Shirley went too, and yet it was a feeling that Shirley could never quite suppress. Perhaps it was just in the merest of glances when there seemed to be an empathy passing between Archie and Beth that never happened between Shirley and her father. She had never – quite – been able to quell a prickle of jealousy whenever they were together, even when she was there too and included in everything that was happening. It had always been the same until at the age of sixteen Beth went to work for the Forsters and then to live in France as a nursemaid to their children. It had been such an adventure for a young girl, even though neither Edie nor Archie had wholly approved. Yet Beth had shown such a spirited determination that in the end they had agreed to her going.

  ‘What’s happened? Archie prompted, feeling more anxious – if that were possible – with each passing second.

  ‘It’s Irene,’ Shirley blurted out at last. ‘She’s come home.’

  Archie frowned. ‘Well, of course she has, but—’

  ‘She’s got a baby.’

  Archie blinked. ‘Eh?’ For a brief moment, he was confused and then, from the look on Shirley’s face, he understood.

  ‘Oh!’

  ‘Yes, it’s “oh!” all right. Large as life and bold as brass, she comes waltzing down the street – on VE day when there was a street party going on, mind you, and all the neighbours were gawping.’ Now there was no holding back; Shirley was in full flow. ‘And Aunty Lil’ – old habits died hard and Shirley could think of no other way to refer to their neighbour – ‘has taken her in. She’s there with Tommy and her little bastard.’

  A hardened seaman though he was, Archie had never liked to hear his family use coarse language, especially his girls. He winced, but, for once, said nothing. They began to walk slowly away from the docks towards home, Archie still with his arm around Shirley’s shoulders, she leaning into his side for comfort and reassurance. ‘Mam’s not speaking to Aunty Lil and—’

  Archie was so shocked that he stopped walking and turned to look down into Shirley’s face. ‘Not speaking to Lil? Why ever not? It’s hardly Lil’s fault, is it?’

  ‘No, but she’s taken her in.’

  ‘Of course she has, Irene’s her daughter!’ He frowned down at her. ‘Would you expect us to cast you out if you got into trouble, lass?’

  ‘This is different,’ Shirley said stubbornly. ‘She’s married. To our Frank.’

  ‘Aye, aye, she is.’ They walked on for some distance until, at the end of the street where they lived, Shirley said in a small voice now, ‘There’s something else, Dad.’

  He sighed heavily. ‘Go on.’

  ‘Mam’s mad at me.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because – because I’ve written to Frank and told him.’

  Archie’s voice was sorrowful rather than angry. ‘Aw, lass, you shouldn’t have done that. Best keep out of it and let Irene and Frank sort it out between them.’

  ‘But he has a right to know,’ Shirley persisted. ‘Just think what a shock it’d be for him to come home and find all that out when he got here all excited at seeing her and Tommy and then being greeted with that.’

  Archie said nothing more as they arrived at the passage leading to their backyard. For a moment he hesitated, asking in a low voice, ‘Any news of Beth?’

  Shirley shook her head, pressing her lips together. Archie sighed again before opening the back door into the scullery and shouting his usual greeting, ‘Here I am, Edie love. Home again safe and sound.’

  Edie did not come to him, meeting him with a kiss and a swift hug that told him she was so relieved and glad to see him. Instead, she was waiting for him in the living room. Admittedly, as always, the kettle was singing on the hob, the table was laid for tea and an appetizing smell was coming from the oven, but things were different. There was a tension in the air that never usually pervaded their home.

  ‘So,’ she said as he came in. ‘You’ve heard, then? Madam here couldn’t wait to impart a juicy bit of gossip.’ She turned resentful eyes on Shirley. ‘I wonder you don’t take out an advert in the Telegraph. Tell the whole world, why don’t you? Get Ursula to write a piece about it.’

  ‘I’ll just change me clothes, Edie love,’ Archie said calmly, kissing her cheek. ‘And then we’ll talk about it over tea.’

  ‘No, we won’t.’ She jerked her head towards the shared wall between their house and Lil’s. ‘Tommy’s coming in for his tea. He wants to see his granddad.’

  Archie smiled. ‘Good. What about the others? Are they coming an’ all?’

  Edie glared at him. ‘Are you mad, Archie Kelsey? ’Cos you must be, if you think I’m having that whore in my house ever again.’

  Archie turned away and climbed the stairs with heavy footsteps.

  The news itself had come as a shock but his wife’s reaction to it was far worse than he could ever have imagined. To think she wasn’t even speaking to Lil. He couldn’t believe it.

  ‘Now then, Tommy lad. How are you? My, you’ve grown.’

  Archie picked up his grandson and swung him round, but the four-year-old didn’t squeal with delight as he had done when Archie had seen him at the farm. Instead he clung on to Archie’s shoulders and looked almost scared of being tossed into the air. Sensing the young boy’s discomfort, Archie set him gently on the ground. Tommy looked up at him with huge eyes, dark and solemn. His brown hair was thick and wavy. He was so like Frank that Archie’s heart felt as if it tu
rned over. But Frank was safe, he reminded himself, he was coming home. But to what?

  The four of them sat around the table but the conversation was stilted and awkward. Edie found she couldn’t think of anything to talk about to the young boy; the problem of his mother was uppermost in her mind. Shirley tried, but her gaiety was forced and false. Only Archie was able to speak naturally.

  ‘Did you like living in the countryside, lad? I expect you find it strange to be back in the town.’

  Tommy regarded his grandfather with a serious gaze. ‘Mam said we lived in the town before, but I can’t remember it.’

  Archie blinked but then realized. Tommy had been a babe in arms when he’d left. Of course he had no recollection of living in Grimsby, of living in the house next door. Perhaps he couldn’t even remember . . .

  As if reading her father’s mind, Shirley said, ‘Then you can’t remember your daddy?’

  Tommy’s glance fell to his plate as he pushed the food on it around with his fork. He shook his head.

  ‘Eat up,’ Edie admonished. ‘We can’t afford to waste food. Not in this house,’ she added, wondering if, living on the farm, the boy hadn’t been brought up to understand the shortages that everyone else was suffering. Or maybe, she thought bitterly, his mother’s mind had been on other things.

  ‘I’ll take him back,’ Archie said, rising from the table when they’d all finished.

  ‘No need for you to go round,’ Edie snapped. ‘He can go through the yard gate. You can watch him into the house from there.’

  For as long as any of them could remember, the communal door in the wooden fence between the two houses had always been left open like an invitation for the members of both households to mingle freely. And they had; until now. But since the day that Irene had returned home, the door had been firmly shut and Edie was determined that it would stay that way.