by Kitty Neale
July turned to August and after three weeks of being stuck at home he was ready to return to work on his stall. Sarah hadn’t been to see him since he’d left the hospital, and whenever he mentioned her, his mum seemed to steer away from her name.
‘Are you looking forward to going back to work today?’ his mother asked.
‘Yes, can’t wait.’
‘Just take it easy. Don’t go putting a strain on yourself.’
‘Mum, stop fussing. You’ve done a grand job of looking after me and I ain’t going to ruin all your hard work by doing myself a mischief on my first day back.’
Lena seemed satisfied with his answer and went upstairs to get dressed, while George drained the last of his glass of milk. Sarah had never said what she’d wanted to talk to him about, but as she hadn’t been round it couldn’t have been important. She’d probably have forgotten by now. Still, he’d bring it up the next time he saw her and hoped it would be soon.
By the time George arrived at the market, the sun was up and most of the costermongers were set up for the day. He thought it was best to check his stall before unloading his van, and as he walked into the market he heard a whisper go from one stall to another. Then there was a loud cheer, and he heard shouts of ‘Welcome back, George’ and ‘Good to have you back, mate’.
George was taken aback by the display, but pleased to be made to feel so popular. They were a good bunch, and he felt sure that none of them had been the one to have sold Sarah out to Godfrey.
He walked to his stall to the sound of applause, and was moved to see it’d been decorated with bunting and a large sign, hand-drawn in large capitals, which read: GEORGE NEERLY. NEERLY DEAD. NEERLY A HERO.
He turned to his fellow stallholders and did a bow, saying loudly, ‘Thanks, it’s good to be back.’
Roger was clapping, but George thought his friend looked a bit dubious and was avoiding eye contact with him. ‘All right, mate?’ he called as the costermongers dispersed back to their stalls.
‘Yeah, all good,’ Roger answered, then busied himself with some cabbages.
George walked over. ‘I thought you might have popped in after work one day to say hello.’
‘Sorry, George, I’ve been so busy. It’s great to see you fighting fit again though,’ Roger said, patting George’s arm.
He was hiding something, George could tell, and it didn’t take a genius to work out what. ‘You and Sarah … are you seeing her now, you know, like a couple?’
Roger slowly nodded his head. ‘I hate to tell you, mate, but yes. Look, I’m sorry and all that. I know you like her, but you wasn’t getting anywhere with her, and after the attack we got closer. She thinks the world of you as a friend, but, well, she’s my bird now. You understand, don’t you?’
George felt like he’d been stabbed again, only this time in the back. Roger was his best friend. They’d known each other since they’d been at school together. He wouldn’t have treated Roger this way. Where was the man’s loyalty? He felt disgusted, but his pride kicked in and there was no way he was going to let Roger see how hurt he felt. ‘Sure, I can understand why you’d want to be with her. I get it and hope it works out for you,’ George said, adding as he walked away, ‘Just make sure don’t hurt her, and that’s a warning.’
What had started as such a good day had suddenly turned into one of the worst. George knew he’d lost Sarah for good now. With his hopes dashed, he ripped at the bunting, venting his frustration at being let down by his friend and losing the love of his life.
Mo had the hump, and it peeved her even more that Samuel didn’t seem to care that she was annoyed with him. ‘It’s not often we get to have a weekday together, and all you want to do is sit there and paint your stupid pictures,’ she complained.
Samuel looked up from his artwork, but continued painting. ‘It’s no good pouting like a sulky little girl, Mo. You know I’ve been wanting to get this done for a while now. This will add a bit of colour to this place, and surely you want it to look nice.’
‘Yes, I do, but can’t you leave it for today? The sun’s out, and it’s not like you normally get time off work.’
‘I know, Mo, but with the hours I work I don’t get a lot of chance to paint. I can’t stand looking at these dull walls. It’s not been the same since your brothers smashed up my paintings. I like it looking bright and colourful in here, it reminds me of home.’
‘I don’t know why you’re bothering. You keep saying we’ll be in our own place soon, so does it really matter what this room looks like?’
‘We can take the paintings with us, and yes, it does matter to me. I know it’s nice weather now, but most of the time this country is so grey and cold. It’s so different in Jamaica. I’ll take you there one day and then you’ll understand how I feel.’
‘Yeah, yeah, yeah … I’ve heard it all before, Sam. I’ll buy you a house … I’ll take you to Jamaica … I’ll buy us a television set, oh, and a motorcar, and there was the record player you promised me. What about the engagement ring? I still haven’t seen that! You’re full of empty promises and I’m sick of it!’ Mo shouted. ‘You even made me take back that radio.’
‘Not that again, woman. I’m fed up with hearing about it.’
Mo stomped to the window and looked out onto the street. It was a gorgeous day, the sun bright, and surely paintings of some weird poxy flowers could wait.
Samuel placed his paintbrush on his palette and walked over to her. He pulled her close and nibbled gently on her earlobe. ‘My promises aren’t empty, Mo. I will get you all those things and more, you just have to be patient with me. I’m working hard, for us and for our future family.’
Mo’s body flinched at the mention of children. She wasn’t prepared to tell him she didn’t want any, so strategically changed the subject. ‘I know, Sam, I just needed a little rant. I feel better now and I’ll leave you in peace to carry on with your paintings, which, by the way, ain’t stupid. I’ll pop to the shops and fetch us back something delicious for dinner.’
Samuel kissed her goodbye, but she slammed the front door on her way out as the anger that she’d managed to suppress bubbled to the surface again. Stupid, stubborn man, she thought.
As she walked along the road, Mo began to calm down. She’d go to the market and at least she could have a bit of banter with the barrow boys. It felt good to be out in the fresh air and feel the warm sun on her face. She wiggled her hips as she walked and held her chin high. She was aware of heads turning to look at her, and enjoyed the attention, especially from the men. I’m wasted here, she thought, and imagined she was in America, walking down Sunset Boulevard.
Sarah swept the back of her hand over her forehead and wiped away the sweat. It was a scorching afternoon, too hot to be stacking shelves, she thought. During the school holiday, Lena was opening up the shop in the mornings, and Sarah paid Larry’s mum a few bob to look after Tommy so she could do an afternoon shift. Mo had offered, saying she was happy to have him without being paid, but she had been so good about how often she’d kept an eye on Tommy that Sarah hadn’t wanted to take liberties. Not only that, Tommy liked being with Larry and his mum so it worked out well.
She checked the time. Only another two hours to go. She’d pick up Tommy, sort out his tea and then freshen up before Roger’s arrival. Much to her delight, Roger visited her most evenings, and she often prepared him dinner. He’d always bring fresh vegetables from his stall, which sometimes reminded her of Mr Sayers and his allotment.
No sooner had Sarah finished stacking the shelves when the bell above the shop door chimed, and Sarah looked up to see one of her regular customers walk in. They enjoyed a natter while Sarah bagged the woman’s shopping, then, when she’d left, she made herself a cold drink. Heaving a sigh, Sarah then took the opportunity to sit down for a while, her mind drifting to the fifty pounds stashed at home. She had big plans for that money, but still hadn’t spoken to George. He’d been so ill, and now that he was home again, he was boun
d to have heard that she was seeing Roger. Unsure of her reception, she hadn’t been to see George, but her last thought before she stood up to serve another customer was that she’d have to bite the bullet one of these days. She just prayed it wouldn’t be a very awkward and uncomfortable meeting.
The customer came to the counter with a box of biscuits in her hand. It was only then that Sarah noticed the young woman’s vivid green eyes. They were the same as her own, the eyes she’d inherited from her father.
‘Excuse me,’ the woman said, waving the biscuits under Sarah’s nose.
Sarah’s mind raced, and her heart was pounding. This woman had to be related to her, possibly even her sister. ‘Sorry,’ Sarah said. ‘Half a crown, please.’
The woman fished in her purse for some change, but Sarah couldn’t take her eyes off her. She wanted to ask her name, and find out if she was the daughter of Ron Lyons, but she daren’t.
The woman handed her the money, then stopped and looked oddly at Sarah.
‘Do I know you from somewhere?’
‘I – erm – I – I don’t think so,’ Sarah stuttered. As curious as she was, and as much as she would have liked to know more, she was too afraid of her father to delve.
‘You look ever so familiar,’ the woman said.
‘You’ve probably seen me in here before,’ Sarah answered and quickly looked downwards. She didn’t want the woman to notice they shared the same eyes.
‘No, I don’t think so. I’ve not been in here before. Oh, well, see ya.’
The woman left the shop, and eventually Sarah began to calm down. She’d just had a close encounter with someone who could be a relative! It would have been so nice to strike up a conversation and get to know the woman, but she knew if Ron Lyons found out, he’d be enraged and that was something she didn’t want to risk.
Chapter 34
Later that day, Mo sat on the doorstep and drew long puffs on her cigarette, amusing herself by blowing smoke rings into the air. Smoking was a habit she’d only recently taken up as she thought it made her look more glamorous, like her film-star idols. Samuel didn’t like the smell so she usually smoked outside.
She stubbed her cigarette out on the ground and was just rising to her feet when Tommy came flying around the corner.
‘Wotcher, Mo,’ he said as he ran past her and into the house.
Sarah was behind him and, as she walked towards her, Mo said, ‘He’s in a hurry.’
‘He’s a proper live wire. Never walks when he can run. Have you had a nice day with Sam?’
Mo tutted. ‘Don’t get me started. Make us both a drink of something cold, and I’ll tell you all about it.’
‘Er … I’m a bit pushed for time. Roger will be here soon.’
‘Oh, I forgot to tell you, he said he’ll be a bit later tonight ’cos he’s got to do something for his mum before he can get away. Cor, the atmosphere between him and George was a bit frosty, so I’m guessing George knows all about you two now.’ Mo felt a tinge of pleasure at seeing the smile drop from Sarah’s face.
‘You’ve seen them then?’ Sarah asked.
‘Yes, down the market earlier. Roger was showing off his tanned muscles to all the housewives. He’s a bit cheeky, your chap.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘Oh, nothing, forget I said anything,’ Mo answered. She wouldn’t tell Sarah what had happened, she wasn’t that mean, but Roger had flirted with her today and made it quite clear that he fancied her. She knew Sarah wasn’t putting out for him, and a good-looking bloke like Roger had his needs. If Sarah wasn’t careful, Mo thought, she might find her man’s wandering eye would lead him to a woman who was willing to please him.
‘Well, if Roger’s going to be later than usual, you may as well come in,’ Sarah said. ‘Are you sure he said his mother? I thought she died several years ago.’
‘Yep, he said his mum. Forget about the drink, love,’ Mo said after glancing at the clock on Sarah’s mantel. ‘I’ve just seen the time and Sam will be wanting his dinner. See you soon.’
‘Yes, see you,’ Sarah said, sounding distracted.
Mo ran upstairs, a roguish grin on her face. That should set the cat amongst the pigeons, she thought, and wondered if she’d hear raised voices from downstairs later.
‘How was your first day back?’ Lena asked as she dished up smoked kippers for dinner.
‘It was all right. Why are we having fish? It ain’t Friday.’
‘I just fancied some kippers. Is that OK with you?’ Lena asked.
‘Yes, but they stink the house out,’ George said, opening the kitchen window.
They sat at the table to eat, but Lena’s appetite had vanished as she felt nervous about broaching the subject of her date with Albert. She noticed George already seemed a bit fed-up, and was pushing his food around on his plate.
‘What’s the matter? Have you gone off my cooking?’ Lena asked.
‘No, it’s lovely. I’m just not very hungry,’ George answered and placed his fork back down on the table.
Something was obviously on his mind, so Lena decided to delay telling him about Albert. ‘What’s wrong? You’ve usually got a good appetite.’
‘Did you know about Sarah and Roger?’
‘What, about them seeing each other?’
‘So you did know then. You could have said something, Mum.’
‘I thought you’d sussed it when they came to visit you in hospital.’
‘Well, I didn’t and it wasn’t much fun finding out about them on my first day back. I ain’t half peed off with him. He’s supposed to be my mate.’
‘He’s nothing but a womaniser, and as for Sarah, I think the girl needs her head testing. I only hope she sees sense before he breaks her heart,’ Lena said, pushing her unfinished dinner to one side. ‘It can’t be easy, having to work next to Roger all day, but try not to let it upset you. I know Sarah is a lovely girl, but she ain’t the one for you. There’ll be a nice girl out there somewhere, and I’m sure you’ll meet her soon.’
‘If you say so, Mum.’
‘I do, George, so try to stop moping about and cheer up.’
George went through to the front room, and Lena cleared up the kitchen. As she wiped the crockery dry, she wondered if she should try again to talk to George about Albert. She was going to dinner with him tomorrow evening, so she’d have to tell her son soon. George had taken his father’s death badly and it had just been the two of them for a lot of years now, and they were close. Lena wasn’t sure how her son would take the intrusion of another man into her life.
With the kitchen tidy, she joined her son in the front room. She sat on the sofa, and drawing in a breath, said, ‘George, I won’t be doing your tea tomorrow. You’ll have to fend for yourself, but there’s a tin of corned beef in the larder and you can have a bit of salad with it.’
‘OK, you off out with Joan and Kath again?’
‘Er … no … I’m going to dinner with Mr Bosco. He’s a very nice man, you know, and a widower,’ Lena said in a rush as she stared at her son to gauge his reaction. His face didn’t show any emotion so she couldn’t tell how he’d taken the news. ‘George, did you hear me?’
‘Yes, I heard you. You’re right, he’s a nice man, but I don’t like the idea of you going out with him. What about my dad, have you forgotten about him?’
‘No, of course I haven’t and never will, but he’s been dead for years now. He’d want me to get on with my life.’
‘Maybe, but he wouldn’t want you seeing other men!’ George said, sounding angry.
‘Don’t be like that. I loved your father very much, and I always will, but he’s gone and I can’t bring him back. It’s not like I’m a shrivelled-up old woman. I’m still fairly young and I’d like some companionship. You ain’t going to be here forever. Once you’ve found a good woman, you’ll be off and I’ll be left here rattling around by myself. Anyway, it’s only dinner, not a bloody marriage proposal.’
T
here was a few moments’ silence, then George got up from his armchair and looked in the mirror. ‘You’re right, Mum. I’m sorry. It’s just a bit of a shock to hear you’re going to be dating. I never thought you would, but why shouldn’t you? You’re a smashing-looking woman for your age, and I want you to be happy.’
Lena rose and went to stand next to her son. She looked at her reflection. George was right, she did look good, but she was nervous about going out with a man again. George’s father had been the only one she’d ever been with, and they’d been sweethearts since school.
As if George could sense how she was feeling, he took her hand and said, ‘You’ll be fine. You’ve got nothing to worry about. If anything, I bet old Bosco’s feeling more scared about it than you are.’
‘Thanks, love, and I reckon you’re probably right. He got himself in a bit of a state when he asked me out. It’s not so easy for us oldies, you know, especially second time around.’
George squeezed her hand and Lena smiled up at her son. She was glad he hadn’t given her a hard time, and was grateful for his support. Albert Bosco could never compare to her husband, but even so, she was excited about their dinner tomorrow.
Roger turned up just as Tommy was drifting off to sleep. The boy had felt burning hot, probably because he’d been running around with Larry in the heat all afternoon. Sarah had given him a cool bath, but he still felt hot and she was a bit worried that he might have a fever.
When the doorbell rang she went out to stand on the front doorstep, but kept the door half closed. ‘I’m sorry, Roger, but Tommy is just going to sleep. He needs his rest and it’s getting late now.’
‘Come on, Sarah, I’ve driven over now. Surely you can let me in for half an hour. I’ll be quiet, I promise.’
‘It’s not that. He gets so excited when he sees you and it’ll take me ages to settle him again.’
‘Come and sit outside then. If he’s asleep, he won’t notice you’re gone,’ Roger said.