Moving On

by Millie Gray

  Giving each other a look that acknowledged they had been set up Hans shook his head. ‘No. Not even for Josef could I take on two.’ He now turned to Kate and he allowed his eyes that had always mesmerised her and had her do his bidding and said, ‘It would be too much for us, wouldn’t it, my dear?’

  Kate knew her husband and she knew that he wished to take Amos on and the deal on offer was that they would also have to take Benjamin. If she was being truthful, the visit to the The Larches and the observing of the little girl had completely distressed her. So much so that she was not really capable of making a rational decision, but she loved Hans and he needed to be doing something to help his distressed country people. So even though she had doubts, grave doubts, about her being able to cope, she found herself saying, ‘Hans, let’s take the two boys home. Only one proviso . . . and that is that you won’t make any difference between them.’

  Eva looked at Hans in a quizzical manner. Hans replied, ‘I have to make no favourites. It is a failing of mine, very rarely mind you, to be a tiny bit biased.’

  Kate huffed before rolling her eyes and surveying the ceiling.

  Hans and Kate stayed the night at The Larches getting to know Amos and Ben, as he liked to be known. Very early in the morning they were soon all packed up and the car had just taken off and reached the end of the long driveway when Kate shouted, ‘Hans, stop!’

  Pulling up so abruptly resulted in the boys being jolted out of their seats and Hans had to turn round to make sure that they were not injured. Having assured himself that the boys were okay he turned back to face Kate. ‘What on earth is wrong with you?’ he hissed.

  ‘Hans,’ she cried as tears spilled over, ‘I am so sorry but I just can’t do it. We must go back. I have to be able to live . . .’

  ‘But we agreed.’

  ‘Yes we did but it was to salve your conscience but . . . Hans . . . take my word for it we have to go back.’

  Amos and Ben looked from one to the other. Amos then leaned forward and placed his hand on Hans’ shoulder. ‘It’s okay by us, just turn the car and go back.’

  Clenching his hands into fists Hans bent his head so that Kate could not see what her decision meant to him. Slowly he allowed his hands to relax and he started up the car again. His first instinct was to go forward in the hope that Kate would change her mind. But he knew Kate all too well so he could do nothing but make a three point turn and head the car back to The Larches.

  As soon as the car pulled up Kate jumped out and raced up to the door and hauled on the bell. As she waited to be admitted she turned to look at Hans and the boys who were already out of the car and assembling the boys’ few belongings. ‘What on earth are you doing, Hans?’ she hollered.

  ‘Well now that we,’ his voice was clipped with anger, ‘no you have decided you do not wish to foster the boys.’

  ‘I never said that.’

  ‘Then why are we not on our way home?’

  Before Kate could answer Eva was standing at the open doorway. The expression on her face was anything but friendly. She had acknowledged that Kate and Hans might find the rearing of Amos and Ben too difficult but she was hardly prepared to have them brought back within five minutes.

  ‘You are having second thoughts?’

  ‘I am. Look, Eva, please understand, I just have tried . . .’ Eva’s derisive laugh astonished Kate but she decided to ignore it and went on to say, ‘I didn’t sleep well last night . . . you see I once lost . . .’

  ‘We all lost in that bloody war. The poor children here more so than anybody,’ Eva protested.

  Hans had now come to stand on the step beside Kate and he and Eva’s jaws dropped in unison when Kate uttered, ‘That’s what I mean. Please allow us to take the little mute girl.’

  Again in unison Eva and Hans gasped, ‘Instead of Amos and Ben?’

  ‘Good heavens, no! Along with . . .’ Kate’s eyes flashed with anger. And turning to Hans and pointing to Eva she spat, ‘She doesn’t know me but you do, so how could you think I would not do everything I could to make fostering the boys work?’

  Hans bowed his head in shame.

  Eva said, ‘Look Kate, come in and let me explain about the little girl . . . Aliza.’

  The two women then got themselves seated in the two small armchairs strategically placed in the bay window to give a view of the beautiful, peaceful garden. However, Eva noted that the tranquil, scenic view was not having a calming influence on Kate. Both she and Hans were surprised at Kate’s reaction as she always appeared to be in complete control and self-possessed in any situation.

  ‘Kate,’ Eva began, ‘I accept that Aliza Stein has awakened a mothering instinct within you but . . . I am sorry to say that Aliza is so damaged that you would be more than likely to fail in . . .’ Eva hesitated. She knew what she had to say but the kind of words she wished to use to soften the message seemed to be evading her. After a tense few minutes she added, ‘The child has had everything that she loved and felt safe with taken from her. Her parents are long gone. Everyone that was part of her very first years has disappeared. She has even lost her native language. People are speaking to her in words that are absolutely foreign to her ears. I have tried to get through to her . . . she is able to speak but she does not converse.’ Eva shook her head. ‘Please believe me, Kate, I have tried and tried to communicate with her . . . but she does not respond.’

  Kate by now had stopped plucking at her skirt and she bent over and placed her hand on Eva’s knee. ‘I am aware of all that. Now please listen to me. I was raised within, and still belong, to a family who support each other through whatever. What I am saying is that I have known and assisted my brother and his children through great sorrow so I know how long it takes for psychological wounds to heal. Look, Eva, if Aliza is to have any chance, and I’m not saying I will succeed, oh no I’m not saying that, what I am saying is that there is the probability I won’t, but you have to allow me to try. Eva,’ Kate now took Eva’s hand in hers, ‘you and I both know that it is a big, bad world out there and people like to take on children that are cute and handsome. So until Aliza grows some hair, some flesh on her bones and starts to speak and, God bless her, perhaps starts to look cute and pretty, she won’t . . .’

  An uncomfortable few minutes ticked by before Eva unconsciously placed her other hand over Kate’s. Her grip was so intense that Kate winced. Both women then looked directly into the eyes of each other and tears surfaced. In unison they turned to look into the far corner of the room where a little mute girl was pressing herself hard against the wall. Both women knew that this was Aliza’s way of trying to make herself invisible.

  Laura sensually pursed her generous lips to even out the fresh coat of lipstick that she had just applied. Then giving the coat of Max Factor pan make-up on her cheeks a little pat she turned to Kitty. ‘Well,’ she began with a sigh, ‘it is true that some of us weren’t born beautiful but thanks to Max Factor we can appear so.’

  ‘You could be right. You know my mum never went to bed without plastering her face with Pond’s Cold Cream and in the morning she couldn’t eat her porridge until she had lathered another coat of cold cream on.’ Kitty sighed. Her mum had been dead for nearly six years now but it still hurt to think of her. To Kitty she had embodied all that a woman should be. Her skin had been just so perfect that Kitty thought that Pond’s should have paid her mum to advertise their wares.

  Kitty was still thinking of her Mum when Laura waggled her tongue around her mouth before saying, ‘Here, Kitty, that Dougal you brought to the dancing tonight . . . he’s quite a dish . . . and he’s a doctor.’ Laura laughed. ‘Tell him he can take my tonsils out anytime he likes.’

  ‘That would be difficult for him, would it not?’

  ‘Because you want to keep him to yourself?’

  ‘No. Because you had them taken out when you were . . .’

  Before Kitty could say ‘Eight,’ Laura did.

  ‘Talking of Dougal. Oh Laura, I’m j
ust head over heels in love with him. And he has vowed to give up all of his adoring fans who keep throwing themselves at him.’

  ‘Hope he keeps to that.’

  Ignoring Laura’s concern, Kitty asked, ‘You and Mike . . . I think you’re just as dotty about him as I am about Dougal.’

  ‘You’re right. Oh Kitty, don’t say anything to anybody but . . .’ Laura looked furtively about before pressing her fingers over her mouth and then uttering in a soft, hushed voice, ‘We’re thinking of getting married.’ Laura panted with excitement as she added, ‘And you, Kitty, will be my bridesmaid.’ Suddenly Laura was overcome with a look of dejection.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Oh, Kitty, we have to get married in the registry office in Fire Brigade Street.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because his dear manic mama thinks he is pitching himself into the gutter by going around with the sister of a murderer. And she also added that she had not sacrificed the way she had to let him train as a quantity surveyor so he could throw himself away on someone like me.’

  To Kitty, Mrs Bailey’s remarks were just so stupid they were laughable. ‘Laura,’ she tittered, ‘I hope her insanity doesn’t run in the family.’

  ‘You can joke about it but she added insult to injury by suggesting that no respectable person would wish to come to our wedding.’

  ‘Ignore her . . . as far as I can see the snobby old bitch is not all there.’

  Laura could only give a downcast shrug but before Kitty could go on further about Mrs Bailey, Laura guided her into the far corner of the Palais de Dance powder room.

  ‘What’s the matter now?’

  Laura looked nervously about before she whispered, ‘Eric’s trial has been set for the first week in September. My mum is up the wall with worry.’

  ‘So what can I do about that?’

  ‘You? Nothing . . . but Connie has been such a great help and comfort to my Mum I just want her to know, and that would be through you, that my Mum is going to need even more . . . understanding now that September is not that far away.’

  Kitty nodded. ‘I know that Connie and your mum have . . . well they have set up a support group for each other . . . well that’s if you could call going twice a week to the women’s group with the children a support.’ Kitty giggled. ‘I would have thought spending all that time with Rosebud, Billy and Jackie would be enough to have you certified and straitjacketed.’ Growing serious, Kitty placed her hand on Laura’s arm. ‘Now as soon as you have the exact dates I will take some of my holidays so I am there with you and I will see that Aunty Kate watches the bairns so Connie can be with your mum.’

  ‘But I thought that you said that your aunt and her husband were going to adopt?’

  ‘They are but minding four children will be as easy as minding one.’

  In the past Kate had always put her feet up after lunch. However, as soon as Hans left to go back to his shop, she found herself with three children needing looking after and entertaining.

  She had just made up her mind to go over to Leith Links, and in particular to the swing park, when the outside door opened and she heard Connie call out, ‘Nothing to worry about, Kate. It’s just me, Nessie and the bairns. Thought we’d call in and welcome . . .’

  By now, Connie and Nessie were in the living room and they were so stupefied by the sight of three children that they were stunned into silence.

  Not wishing to embarrass Amos and Ben, Kate jovially said, ‘Things didn’t go quite as we planned. Amos,’ at hearing his name Amos nodded towards Connie and Nessie, ‘and Ben.’ Ben now nodded. ‘Well they are a twosome. What I mean is they don’t go anywhere without each other. And we liked them both so much that we agreed to take them both.’

  Connie and Nessie exchanged bewildered looks with each other but still they stayed mute because they were now staring at Aliza. Nessie was so shocked at the sight of the child that she moved in closer to Connie. Although it would appear that nothing registered with Aliza, the child did feel the reaction, perhaps even the revulsion, of the two women and she slowly backed away until the back wall impeded her further escape.

  Trying to divert the women’s attention away from Aliza, Kate brightly commented, ‘I can see Billy and Jackie but where is Rosebud?’

  It was obvious from Connie’s hypnotic stilted reply that she was still trying to figure out why Aliza was in Kate’s care. ‘Rosebud.’ She looked about. ‘Oh she will be here shortly. She has just been dilly -dallying along since Miss Glen, you know the lady who runs the Post Office and shop, gave her a lollipop that should have been thrown out.’

  ‘Aye, that’s right, Miss Glen said Rosebud could have it even though we had no sweetie coupons left,’ Nessie managed to add incoherently because she too was transfixed by Aliza.

  Kate was just about to explain about Aliza when Rosebud tumbled in the door. As she picked herself up she looked about the room until her gaze landed on Aliza. Her mouth gaped and the lollipop, which was stuck to her tongue, just jutted from her mouth.

  No one who was present in the room that day would ever be exactly clear as to what happened next. What they do know is that five-year-old Rosebud slowly, as if in a dream, walked over to Aliza. Aliza looked directly at Rosebud who took the lollipop from her mouth and, bending forward, she prized open Aliza’s mouth and pushed the lollipop in. ‘I don’t know who you are. But somebody’s been bad,’ Rosebud now looked accusingly at the three women, ‘very bad to you.’ She now put her arms around Aliza but Aliza stayed rigid. Rocking Aliza from side to side she surprised everyone when she then pulled Aliza’s head on to her chest and in a voice full of music she uttered, ‘But you don’t hae to worry nae mair because I’m going to be your best friend and I’ll look after you.’

  The three women would swear that it was as if Rosebud had touched Aliza with a magic wand – a wand that somehow brought some thawing to Aliza – some healing. They all stood saying nothing whilst Aliza very slowly lifted her right hand and stroked Rosebud’s face. To those who witnessed this happening it was as if Aliza appeared to be making sure that Rosebud was real – that she was no mirage but a real living and breathing person. Rosebud responded by gently stroking Aliza’s upturned face. The two girls were now oblivious to anyone else in the room and slowly they allowed their heads to entwine and all that could be heard were the quiet sobs of the two children. Kate, Connie and Nessie had to fight back the tears when they witnessed the two little girls who had never known of each other’s existence until today but somehow they had already formed a bond.

  It was nearly five when Nessie and Connie said they would need to be getting themselves back up the road. Rosebud, of course, had begged to be allowed to stay with Aliza. No one raised an objection.

  When Kate saw Connie and Nessie off at the door she said, ‘Aliza can speak, she just chooses not to. I am trying to teach her English.’

  Connie giggled before quipping, ‘Well it seems to me that if anyone can get her to talk it will be Rosebud . . . mind you, when she does get Aliza chatting you might be surprised at just how colourful her vocabulary is.’

  For some reason Johnny arrived home from London in the early afternoon of the Friday. When he called, ‘Hello there,’ to Connie, who was in the kitchen, she jumped and the pot she had just finished scrubbing slipped from her hand and splashed back into the sink.

  Glancing up at the kitchen clock as she dried her hands on her apron, Connie exclaimed, ‘Oh Johnny, is there something up that you are home so early?’

  Johnny shook his head. ‘No. In fact everything down in London is going just the way I want it to.’

  ‘That right?’ replied Connie, pulling out a chair from under the table and sitting down.

  ‘Aye, priority is being given to the Welfare State and the National Health Service bills.’ Johnny cocked his head and Connie could see that he was happy, very happy about that.

  This pleased her because she had been worried that Johnny, who had never been
out of the Lothians, would not fit in in London – how wrong she had been. He had even managed to get himself a small flat at a reasonable rent. This meant he could privately go over and over the material that had been discussed that day, or more importantly what was to be debated the following day. This was so important to Johnny, who felt that as he had only been educated to a lower standard he had to be able to hold his own with those who had enjoyed advanced schooling – some even up to university standards.

  Johnny was now looking out of the kitchen into the living room where he could see his baby daughter Jackie asleep on the couch. He smiled as he noted that Connie had put a coat over her even though the day was warm.

  ‘I can see the wee one,’ he observed as he turned back to look at Connie, ‘but where is Rosebud?’

  Before she replied Connie strummed her fingers on the table. ‘Look Johnny,’ she hesitantly began.

  ‘Nothing’s happened to her?’

  ‘No, but here,’ Connie replied, ‘you’d better take a seat because I’ve something to tell you about Kate and Hans.’

  ‘They’ve been turned down for adopting a son because they are too old?’

  Connie shook her head. For the next five minutes Johnny just sat mute. He could not believe what she was imparting to him. From time to time he nodded, shook his head, clapped his cheek and his mouth gaped.

  When Connie had finished with her tale Johnny sat for a few minutes in silence. He was obviously trying to fathom all that Connie had told him. Eventually he said, ‘Now correct me if I am wrong but the two boys . . .’

  ‘Amos and Ben,’ Connie said in an effort to get him to realise that the young lads were going to be his nephews and deserved to be known by their names.

  ‘Aye, Amos and Ben will have problems settling down but they will adapt to life in Leith because Kate and Hans have given them what they want and that is to be brought up together,’ Johnny mused more to himself, ‘and it’s in their interest not to rock too many boats.’ Connie nodded. ‘But from what you tell me the wee lassie is . . . how can I put it . . .?’