The East End Girl in Blue

by Fenella J Miller

  The car slowed and turned into an impressive driveway. He still didn’t know who the patient was and Billings obviously had no intention of telling him. He wondered if he would recognise the man. Probably not as he took no interest in the upper classes. He might be rich – through no effort of his own – but he was upper middle class at best. Julia had had an Earl of Somewhere in her recent ancestry so had definitely been a toff.

  Despite his disquiet about having to leave Nancy standing in the town hall believing that he’d jilted her, his mouth curved. How strange fate was – with his first marriage one could say that he’d married above him and with his second that he’d be going in the opposite direction. This class thing was nonsense as far as he was concerned; he was definitely going to vote for the Labour Party next time there was a general election.

  The patient, nobody he knew, but he was pretty sure he was a lord at least, had a blocked bowel, which hadn’t improved by being left for so long. Why the hell the man hadn’t gone to the nearest hospital hours ago he’d no idea.

  It took the considerable skill of his mentor as well as himself to save the man’s life and the whole procedure took far longer than it should have done. The butler escorted him to a room set aside especially for the telephone and David asked the operator to connect him to Chelmsford town hall.

  He quickly explained the reason that he’d been unable to make it to the town hall today and the registrar was very sympathetic.

  ‘I don’t think that Miss Evans turned up either, Doctor Denny. She wasn’t there when I went out to look for both of you but I suppose she could already have left.’

  ‘When is your next available time?’

  ‘I have a cancellation on Wednesday at three o’clock. Shall I pencil you both in for then?’

  ‘Yes, please do that.’ He replaced the receiver and then spoke to the manager at the Saracens and rebooked for two nights this time. He doubted that Nancy would be prepared to stay away from home for longer than that as she took her duties as housekeeper very seriously.

  Speaking to her on the telephone wasn’t an option. His grovelling apology had to be made in person. The fact that he’d got a stunning engagement ring as well as a wedding band would hopefully prove to her that he’d never intended to let her down so badly. He’d also got good news from his solicitors about Betty and Billy and he couldn’t wait to share it with her.

  He was dead on his feet and slept the entire distance from wherever they were, back to London. The car waited whilst he dashed in to wash and change his clothes and grab what he needed.

  ‘Hill,’ he asked the chauffeur when he returned, ‘are you sure you’ll have enough petrol to take me to Chalfont Major?’

  ‘I’ve a full tank now, sir, and am ready to go.’

  Something was niggling at the back of his mind. Something the registrar had said. He remembered and his stomach turned over. Nancy possibly hadn’t turned up either.

  21

  Nancy was calm by the time the bus chugged into the village. She wasn’t expected at the house until this evening so headed for the vicarage. Mrs Stanton saw her walk past the kitchen window and opened the back door for her.

  ‘I can see your trip to Chelmsford was particularly successful today. Come in and show me what you managed to buy. You don’t look yourself. Are you feeling unwell?’

  ‘I’m cold and hungry and think I overdid it lumping this lot around. If there’s a cup of tea going spare then I’d really appreciate it.’

  Mrs Stanton exclaimed over each purchase. ‘The damage is superficial, a careful rinse in warm sudsy water will remove the dust and dirt.’ She held out a length of heavy, dark green cotton. ‘I don’t suppose I could persuade you to make me a blouse in this? It would go perfectly with my best suit.’

  ‘I’d love to. I’ve got the whole day off so I can wash everything this afternoon and then it should be dry by tomorrow. I’ll start cutting your blouse out when it is. Do you want me to use the pattern I made last time or were you thinking of something different?’

  Talking about sewing and laundering kept her busy and gave her time to decide how she was going to deal with what had happened. As she hadn’t approached the lady at the desk in order to give in her name, had left the town hall without speaking to anyone, it was possible they would think that neither of them had turned up.

  The four couples who’d seen her didn’t count. The more she thought about it the more it made sense to pretend that she’d changed her mind as he had.

  The only flaw in this explanation was that if he’d been the one to be jilted then he would be here now trying to persuade her to change her mind. There was stationery in the room that she’d once occupied and she was sure the Stantons wouldn’t mind if she used some.

  Dear David

  I am most sincerely sorry to have changed my mind and not come for our wedding. I went in with the intention of marrying you but the more I thought about it the more I realised it was the wrong thing to do. I am a most unsuitable wife for someone as important as a surgeon, and I think it best if we stop seeing each other altogether.

  I am writing this at five o’clock and understand that you too have decided that we shouldn’t be married, which makes things so much easier. I wish we’d both had the courage to tell the other and save us from embarrassment and heartache.

  I do love you but not enough to marry you and then be obliged to pretend to be something that I’m not. It wouldn’t be fair to me or to you. You need to find someone from your own class who will make you a much better wife than I would.

  Take care of yourself and I don’t regret a moment of what happened and neither should you.

  Best wishes.

  Nancy Smith

  She read it through a couple of times and was pleased with what she’d written. There’d been no blots or smudges from her tears, no spelling mistakes as far as she knew, and this way her dignity was intact and if he came to see her then she’d be able to talk to him without being overwhelmed by her disappointment and his callousness.

  The envelope was neatly addressed, the letter folded up and put inside. All she required now was a stamp so she could post it and she had several in her room in the house where she worked. The grandfather clock that stood in the entrance hall of the vicarage had just struck seven. She was proud of herself – she’d got through the day without breaking down and was pretty sure she’d be able to carry on without him and nobody would know that for the second time she’d lost a potential husband.

  Then she heard heavy footsteps thundering up the stairs and heading in her direction. It could only be one person and she wasn’t ready to face him yet. Why was he here? He was the one who’d failed to turn up for their wedding. If he’d come to apologise, she wasn’t prepared to listen. There was no excuse good enough to explain what he’d put her through.

  The door flew open. She didn’t look at his face, just held out the letter. ‘I’m sorry things had to end like this. We both changed our minds which is a good thing. I explained why I didn’t come in this letter. Goodbye, David.’

  He took it from her. ‘I haven’t changed my mind. I love you, Nancy, and thought I’d left you waiting on your own today.’

  He sounded so wretched that she didn’t dare look at him. Whatever the reasons he’d had for not answering her letters, or letting her know he wouldn’t be there, she didn’t want to hear them. The man she’d fallen in love with wouldn’t have behaved so thoughtlessly. Her David didn’t exist – the reality stood in front of her. A man who couldn’t make up his mind and didn’t care that his behaviour had broken her heart.

  ‘Excuse me, I have to get home.’ She walked past him and he didn’t try and stop her.

  Only the dog was pleased to see her. The children were in bed asleep and Mary and Fred were in their own sitting room with the door firmly shut. The sitting room was dark and quiet so Dr Jones must be with Jill at her house.

  She retreated upstairs, fell into bed and cried herself to sleep.
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  *

  David opened the letter and was devastated, but unsurprised, at the contents. He collapsed onto the bed unable to grasp the fact that in the space of a few hours his world had fallen apart. If he’d rung her last night, if he’d turned up at the town hall, things would have been so different.

  At least she’d gone into Chelmsford intending to marry him but had got cold feet. If he’d been there then he could have found her, calmed her down and they would have got married as planned. She quite naturally assumed he’d got cold feet and then regretted it. If he’d actually been in Chelmsford at midday then he would have arrived at Chalfont Major hours ago.

  He sat with his head in his hands, the letter dropped on the floor, and fatigue and misery overwhelmed him. His shoulders shook and his cheeks were wet. He’d been upset when Julia had died but more because he felt he’d let her down than from real grief at her loss. This was different – without Nancy his life no longer had meaning.

  ‘My dear boy, I’ve never seen you so distraught. What you need is a stiff drink and I’ve got half a bottle of whiskey with your name on it.’ The vicar pushed a clean handkerchief into one hand and grabbed David’s other arm, leaving no option but to go with him.

  A large drink and a cup of tea later he’d recovered sufficiently to be able to speak. ‘I apologise. I barged in here without your permission and…’

  ‘My wife and I realised there was something going on between you and Nancy weeks ago. She’s been horribly subdued today. Do you want to tell me what this is all about?’

  David was about to refuse but found himself pouring out the story. ‘I expect you disapprove, that you think Nancy was right to change her mind.’

  ‘I think nothing of the sort. She loves you and you love her. That’s all that matters. This disaster could have been avoided, but it happened. What we have to work out now is how to put things right and I fear it’s going to take a lot of fence mending to win her back.’

  ‘How do I convince her that she won’t be ruining my life by marrying me?’

  ‘Write her a very persuasive letter. Point out how much she’s changed since she’s been here.’

  ‘You’re right – she’s almost unrecognisable as the girl from the East End that I first met. Billings expects me to introduce Nancy to him as soon as we’re married – if we ever are – and she’s just not up to that sort of scrutiny.’

  As soon as he’d spoken he realised the significance of his words. For all his talk, subconsciously he must consider that Nancy was somehow inferior to him.

  ‘I see.’ Stanton’s expression said more than his words. ‘I think it might be better if you stayed here tonight, young man; let the dust settle before you go over. If you go at all.’ He paused, his expression sad. ‘I rather think that you agree with Nancy that she’s not a suitable wife for you. I retract what I said before. Your marriage will be a disaster if you enter into it thinking she’s got to change in order to fit in with your friends and colleagues.’

  ‘I swear that until this moment I honestly believed the differences between us were unimportant. I love her, I’m very sure of that. Now, what I’m uncertain about is whether that will be enough to make it work.’

  ‘Exactly so. If you would care to write her a letter then I’ll see that it’s delivered tomorrow after you leave. You’ll find pen and paper in the guest room where you found Nancy earlier.’

  The vicar walked out making it blindingly obvious David wasn’t welcome to join them in the sitting room but should retreat to the bedroom and remain there until he could catch the eight o’clock bus.

  This was going to be a very difficult letter to write. He wasn’t even sure if he should tell her that he’d intended to be there and that circumstances had conspired against him. He’d sleep on it and write it when he woke up.

  He heard someone walking past his door the next morning and was shocked that he’d slept so soundly. When Julia had died he’d paced the room for days unable to sleep at all. Things had been turned on their head yet again.

  If he was prepared to give up Nancy so easily was it possible what he felt for her was lust, not genuine love? Was his desire to have a family, and the fact that there was a war on, making him push ahead with something that under normal circumstances he wouldn’t have considered?

  He was bitterly ashamed of his behaviour. He should never have slept with her; she was a vulnerable young woman and he’d taken shameful advantage of her. If only Billings hadn’t dragged him away they would now be married and these uncertainties would never have surfaced. He frowned. Even if he’d turned up on time they still mightn’t be married as she’d changed her mind.

  Two days ago he’d been happier than he’d ever been in his life and now he could only see an empty, lonely life ahead of him. He would make provision for Billy and Betty, become their legal guardian, but they’d never be his children as he’d planned. Neither would the unborn baby that Nancy was carrying.

  His eyes were dry and gritty, his limbs leaden as if he was going down with influenza. He had a letter to write and only half an hour to do it before he had to be outside waiting for the bus. Hopefully, they could both move on with their lives with no regrets. He had the career he’d always dreamt of and she was now part of a close-knit community and had a home into which to bring her child.

  From where he was sitting he could just see the roof of his house. No – he would sign it over to her as he’d never visit Chalfont Major again. He’d told her that he was leaving her his money and had no intention of changing his will, but he would add a codicil to include Billy and Betty.

  When Simon married Jill he’d offer to sell the practice to him and cut another tie to this place. In future he’d concentrate on his career, become the best surgeon he could be and forget about finding himself a wife or ever having children of his own. That’s if he survived the war at all.

  One thing he did know was that he’d be a widower for the remainder of his life.

  Dear Nancy,

  I came here intending to persuade you to change your mind but have decided to accept your decision. I would have been at Chelmsford yesterday but had to accompany my boss to Northampton to perform an emergency bowel resection.

  I hadn’t changed my mind and am deeply saddened that you have. I’ll not contact you again, which will be easier for both of us.

  I shall become guardian to Billy and Betty but hope you will continue to act as their surrogate mother. I’ll certainly not be involved with them personally although will make sure that they’re financially secure.

  I also intend to sign over ownership of the house to you and settle a sufficient sum in a trust fund to cover your expenses and that of the household for the foreseeable future. When Simon marries Jill, he will move out and then you can decide if you wish to keep Mary and Fred on in your employ.

  I wish you all the best and will always love you and don’t regret a moment of the time we spent together.

  He signed it with a flourish. He pushed it into the envelope and scrawled her name across the front. He’d not bothered to shave, had slept in his clothes and looked like a tramp. He didn’t care. There was nobody he wanted to impress.

  He ran down the stairs, his suitcase swinging in his hand, and dropped the letter on the hall table. The bus was approaching and he had to run in order to catch it. It wasn’t so much that he was miserable – that didn’t describe the way he felt at all. He was crushed and doubted he’d ever be happy again.

  *

  Nancy was relieved that she’d had no unwelcome visitor the previous evening. She was busy dusting the sitting room when Mrs Stanton came in.

  ‘Do you have a moment to talk, my dear?’

  ‘I’ll make a pot of tea. I always take one in to Doctor Jones and Mrs Andrews about now.’

  Her heart was thudding uncomfortably knowing that the only reason the vicar’s wife was here was to talk about what had happened yesterday. As long as she didn’t think about it then she could carry on
without crying.

  How much had he told her? She’d no intention of discussing her business with anyone but wasn’t prepared to lie if asked directly.

  ‘Doctor Denny told me you were getting married yesterday but he failed to turn up. He also believes that you changed your mind. Is that true?’

  The constriction in her throat made it impossible for Nancy to speak. She shook her head and Mrs Stanton nodded sympathetically. ‘I thought so. I’ve got a letter for you. I’ll wait whilst you read it.’

  Nancy’s fingers were shaking so much she could scarcely take the paper out. Her cheeks were wet by the time she’d finished reading. She found her handkerchief, wiped her eyes and then blew her nose noisily. This gave her a few extra moments to pull herself together.

  ‘Why didn’t he come over and tell me this himself?’

  ‘After you left he was distraught and told my husband everything. He also revealed that he actually agrees that the differences between you are insurmountable.’

  This was news to her as all along he’d been the one to insist that the difference in their backgrounds, education and ages made no difference. That they were meant to be together as they made each other so happy.

  ‘I’m unsuitable? Is that what you mean? Do you think that too?’

  ‘I don’t think so but I can definitely see why he might think you’d struggle in the world he would be bringing you into. How would you feel if you were sneered at and patronised when you attended functions as his wife? How do you think he would feel if that happened?’

  ‘I was living in a fairy tale, Mrs Stanton. Deep down I knew it, but carried on as if I really thought we’d get married and live happily ever after. Girls like me don’t marry men like him.’ Then the band around her chest vanished and it was as if a weight had lifted from her shoulders.

  ‘I really love him, I’ll never marry anyone else, but we’ve done the right thing by breaking it off. I wouldn’t have been able to be the wife he needs. We would both have been unhappy in the end.’