The Orphan Twins

by Lesley Eames

  Lily didn’t stay much longer. ‘I’ll come again,’ she told Artie, and left Celia with another compliment on her choice of hat, another delicious confection that boasted surprisingly realistic pink fabric roses.

  Once again, Celia looked at Lily’s clothes and settled for a smile.

  ‘You won’t forget to thank Phyllis and Michael for the cake?’ Artie said. ‘Such a happy event, an engagement.’

  Celia smiled at him adoringly and Lily walked away with an anxious heart.

  TWENTY-NINE

  Towards the end of April Artie moved into lodgings in Kentish Town, not far from the Grover’s office and building yard. Lily was allowed to visit and was pleased to find that, once his landlady had overcome her suspicion that Lily might not in fact be Artie’s sister, she was strict but fair. She was also a believer in building young men up with as good food as could be managed in wartime.

  Artie was using just a stick for support and keen to reach the moment when he wouldn’t need any support at all.

  ‘This is a new beginning,’ he told Lily, eyes shining. ‘I’ve had the best of good luck in receiving an education and surviving the war. Now it’s time I made something of myself and also made good on my promise to help you.’

  ‘You’re a dear but don’t feel you have to look after me. I’m just fine running the tea room.’

  ‘You’re an inspiration, Lil. But you should still be able to fall back on me.’

  Was he thinking of the tea room closing when Mr Bax finally retired? Even then Lily hoped to be independent somehow. It gave her a sense of pride to stand on her own two feet. Besides, Artie might need all his resources for himself, especially if he actually married Celia.

  Once again Lily longed to pour all her concerns into a letter to Luke but feared she’d be assuming an intimacy that didn’t exist. She still felt her heartbeat quicken when Elsie came in the following day and announced, ‘Letters from Luke.’

  She passed one to Phyllis and another to Lily. ‘I’ll read mine later,’ Lily said as though a note from Luke was pleasant but of no great significance.

  She needn’t have bothered. Elsie had that knowing look in her eyes again.

  Lily turned away to avoid it. She tied an apron around her waist and slipped her feet into comfortable shoes. When she glanced around again Elsie was staring at her reflection in the small mirror they kept in the serving room so they could ensure they stayed neat and tidy through the day.

  It wasn’t like Elsie to look in mirrors. She stepped away quickly when she realised Lily had noticed. ‘Just wondering if I should cut my hair,’ she said.

  ‘Any particular reason?’ Lily asked.

  Elsie shrugged. ‘Maybe it’s time for a change.’

  ‘You have lovely hair. So thick and healthy.’

  ‘So orange,’ Elsie mocked.

  ‘Distinctive.’

  ‘Easy for you to say when your hair’s dark and silky. Anyway, I suppose I’d better go and do some work before Pierre starts whining.’

  ‘Pierre never—’ Lily began but Elsie had already left.

  Artie’s walking improved rapidly and it wasn’t long before he stopped using the stick for all but the longest walks. ‘Do you think you might be able to come over to me for a visit?’ Lily asked. ‘The others would love to see you.’

  He came one May evening to celebrate his and Lily’s nineteenth birthdays. ‘I’m enjoying the new job,’ he told them enthusiastically. ‘Grover’s builds all over London but I’m based in the office at the moment. I’m meeting lots of interesting people, including members of the council as they give us some of our contracts.’

  ‘It sounds an excellent opportunity,’ Phyllis’s Michael told him.

  ‘Michael has a new job too,’ Lily said, hoping to keep Artie off the subject of Celia. ‘Michael and Phyll have their diplomas now.’

  ‘Congratulations, both of you. You’re keeping accounts for a furniture manufacturer, I believe?’ Artie asked Michael.

  ‘It’s my first job in accounting. I’m keen to do well.’

  ‘Of course, especially as you’re going to marry Phyll.’

  Did all roads lead back to marriage and Celia? ‘Phyllis has taken on the chocolate shop accounts,’ Lily said. ‘That’s in addition to the bakery and tea room.’

  ‘I’ll still be working in the bakery shop, though,’ Phyllis said.

  ‘Have you made plans for the wedding?’ Artie wondered.

  ‘We’re busy saving,’ Phyllis told him. ‘Not for a fancy wedding. We’ll be happy with a small occasion as long as we have the people we love around us. But we need to set up a home of our own as well.’

  Artie nodded as though he too faced that challenge. Then he smiled. ‘We’re hardworking people. There’s no reason to think we won’t succeed, is there?’

  ‘None at all,’ Michael agreed.

  Their circumstances weren’t the same, though. Phyllis would be content with a modest home but the same couldn’t be said of Celia. As for Lily herself, she’d gladly live in a freezing garret with Luke.

  *

  More weeks passed. Artie was loving his job and developing a good working relationship with Mr Melling, who oversaw the actual building work. Mr Grover had declared himself pleased with Artie’s progress though Lily had heard no mention of Artie being invited to the family home as a friend.

  An awful sense of foreboding settled on her shoulders when she thought of Artie.

  She was worried about the Tibbs sisters too. Both Phyllis and Elsie had visited and shared Lily’s concerns about the sisters’ health, particular Hilda’s. Lily returned to Hastings herself and what she saw upset her badly. Hilda was losing substance fast. Her frame looked lighter, her hair wispier and her skin felt thin to the touch.

  Lily took Marion aside. ‘Have you had a doctor to in see her? If you’re worried about the fee, I can—’

  ‘Bless you, Lily, but Hilda has seen a doctor. He said that none of us last forever and Hilda’s time might be drawing near.’

  ‘But why? What’s wrong with her? Can’t he help?’

  ‘Hilda’s health is simply declining. If it isn’t one thing troubling her, it’s another.’

  Lily swallowed, the tears in her eyes feeling like needles. Marion took her hand and squeezed it. ‘The doctor is right. None of us last forever and Hilda and I have lived longer than many, especially when you consider all the poor young men losing their lives in the war.’

  But Hilda was barely sixty. Far too young to fade away. ‘If I can’t pay for a doctor, you must let me help in other ways,’ Lily insisted.

  ‘I won’t deny that some help will be welcome. But you have a tea room to run. Please don’t do more than you can reasonably manage.’

  Lily took to visiting the sisters every week, travelling down on Saturday evenings once the tea room had closed and returning late on Sundays. She spent the time cleaning, shopping and cooking then reading to her friends from books or chatting with them about old times as well as Lily’s life in London. She always took food supplies, including homemade soup, fruit and vegetables, to keep them going until her next visit.

  Spending more time with them meant spending less time with Artie though Lily never missed a chance to see him no matter how weary she was. Artie had always been sweet-natured and that hadn’t changed, but he was maturing before her eyes, bristling with ambition and purpose. If only Lily could be sure he wasn’t heading for disappointment.

  One day Celia accompanied him to the tea room again.

  ‘Give me your honest opinions of her,’ Lily asked Elsie and Phyllis afterwards, needing to be sure that her own concerns were justified.

  ‘Spoilt princess,’ Elsie declared without hesitation.

  ‘I agree,’ Phyllis said. ‘I don’t think she has the sharpest brain in the universe either though perhaps that’s only because she’s never had to wake it up.’

  Elsie stood, saying she had chocolate boxes to fill but she looked back when she reached the d
oor. ’People don’t choose who they love, Lily. Sometimes love just happens,’ she said.

  Was Elsie thinking of Luke and suggesting it was hypocritical of Lily to object to Artie falling in love when she’d done the same with Luke? But Luke was no Celia. Even if he didn’t return Lily’s regard, he was clever, shrewd and grounded in the world of hard work.

  Lily couldn’t write to Luke about Artie but it was a relief to be able to write to him about Hilda and Marion, though perhaps I shouldn’t burden you with troubles from home when you’re faced with danger every day, she wrote.

  No, you should, Luke replied. It helps me to know that the natural cycle of life continues at home. It’s far from natural here. Try not to dwell on the fact that Hilda’s light is fading but cherish the way she’s enriched your life through love.

  Luke was right. Hilda was reaching her end naturally with many years of life behind her. Not that it made losing her easy to bear. Lily’s heart crumpled every time she left the sisters, wondering if she’d ever see Hilda again.

  Then one day Elsie came into the tea room looking grave. ‘Marion just telephoned. Hilda’s taken a turn for the worse.’

  ‘I’ll go to her,’ Lily said, unfastening her apron.

  ‘I’ll take over in here.’

  ‘Thank you. But if we have to close the tea room, then that’s what we’ll do.’

  Lily ran up to her room to pack some overnight things then raced down to the shop.

  ‘Wait!’ Mr Bax cried.

  He gave her a bag of food supplies. ‘Only what I had to hand but I hope they’ll help.’

  Lily hugged him but couldn’t speak because her throat was too tight.

  ‘Telephone Pierre’s shop when there’s news,’ Mr Bax urged.

  It was evening when she arrived in Hastings. Had she arrived too late to say goodbye to her old friend? Marion opened the door to her and Lily was dismayed to see how tired she looked. ‘I’m so sorry,’ Lily said, touching a hand to Marion’s arm. ‘Am I…?’

  ‘You’re in time. Come along in. Hilda is in bed. Go up while I make some tea.’

  Lily went upstairs where Hilda lay looking small and faded. But she smiled when she saw Lily and raised a weak hand. Lily took it, kissing Hilda’s cheek then sitting in the chair beside the bed to stroke the wasted fingers. ‘It’s so good of you to come,’ Hilda said.

  ‘Where else would I be when my precious friend needs me?’

  Hilda died peacefully as the room was lightening to the pearly grey of morning, Lily sitting on one side of her and Marion sitting on the other. They took turns to kiss Hilda’s forehead then sat with her for a while longer, quietly shedding tears.

  ‘Thank you for coming,’ Marion finally said. ‘It made Hilda’s passing easier for her and you’re a great support to me. ‘

  Lily patted Hilda’s arm and went downstairs, setting the kettle to boil then standing at the kitchen window watching the first birds venture into the small garden until more tears blurred her vision. Another era of her life was over, another beloved person gone, and the sadness was intense.

  She didn’t rush to make the tea, wanting to allow the sisters time alone. When Lily eventually returned upstairs, Marion turned a ravaged yet accepting face to her. ‘I’ve been lucky,’ she said. ‘Some brothers and sisters find it hard to rub along together but I was blessed in having a sister like Hilda.’

  Lily thought of Artie and felt another pang of worry but it wasn’t the time to dwell on her own woes.

  They drank their tea sitting beside Hilda as the world outside continued to stir into life. But there were arrangements to be made. Lily touched Marion’s arm and they returned downstairs. ‘The funeral,’ Lily began. ‘I’d consider it an honour if you’d let me help to pay for it.’

  ‘It’s kind of you, but Hilda and I have money put by for our funerals. I’d welcome your help with the arrangements, though. The undertakers are Collins & Sons. Could you call in and tell them we need them? I’d be grateful if you’d telephone the doctor too.’

  Lily went out to see the undertakers and telephoned both the doctor and Pierre. ‘I’m sorry,’ Pierre said when he heard the news, his words sounding simple but heartfelt.

  ‘Is Elsie there?’ Lily asked.

  ‘She’s looking after the tea room again this morning. Phyllis will work in there this afternoon.’

  ‘But that’ll leave you and Mr Bax short of help.’

  ‘We were all up early to prepare.’

  How kind they were. Fresh tears sprang into Lily’s eyes. She blinked and swallowed hard. ‘I’ll telephone again when I know more about the funeral.’

  There was someone else she had to telephone – Artie. She called the Grover’s office and was relieved to find him there. ‘Give Marion my love,’ he told her.

  The doctor and funeral directors duly came and went about their business then Marion produced a wide ribbon of black crepe and tied it to the doorknocker. ‘It’s the ribbon our parents used when family members passed on,’ she said.

  ‘Tradition is good. Comforting.’

  They kept the curtains drawn over the windows at the front of the house but open in the kitchen where they sat at the table. Lily warmed some of the soup she’d brought and encouraged Marion to eat as they talked about the funeral arrangements. ‘It’ll be a small affair with few mourners,’ Marion explained.

  ‘But those mourners loved your sister dearly. That’s what matters.’

  Marion smiled and they spent the afternoon reminiscing about Hilda’s life – about how she’d loved barley sugars but hated pear drops, about her amazement when she’d first seen Buckingham Palace and heard that Queen Victoria really lived behind all those windows, about her talent for cooking, and about how much she’d enjoyed hearing news of Lily’s Tea Room.

  Towards evening Marion reached for Lily’s hand. ‘I’ll be glad of your company tonight, Lily. It’s the first night without Hilda so it’s bound to be hard. I’ll be grateful if you’d stay in the morning too, to help me to write to the people who need to know what’s happened. But then you should go home.’

  Lily began to protest.

  ‘You have a tea room to run. Hilda wouldn’t like to think of you closing it on her account. And I need to begin adjusting to my changed circumstances.’

  Marion needed time to grieve alone and, realising it, Lily nodded.

  She spent a busy morning finalising arrangements with the undertakers, buying black-edged notepaper for Marion to use for her letters, and buying enough food to keep her going for a few days.

  ‘You mustn’t worry about the funeral tea,’ Lily told her. ‘I’ll take care of that.’

  ‘Thank you, dear. That’s a weight off my mind.’

  ‘I’ll be back the night before the funeral to get everything ready, but don’t hesitate to telephone Pierre if you want me to come sooner or just need to hear a friendly voice. And afterwards… You must come and stay with me for a while.’

  Lily saw little of the countryside on the journey back to London. She sat beside a window but her vision was blurred by tears and her thoughts turned inwards. She shed more tears when she arrived home to be wrapped in the arms of both Phyllis and Elsie. But then she dried her eyes and blew her nose. ‘I must get to work,’ she said. ‘It gave Hilda a lot of pleasure to think of me making a success of the tea room. Work feels a more fitting tribute to her than moping.’

  Artie called in during the evening, holding Lily and stroking her hair as she sobbed again. ‘I’ll explain to Mr Grover that I really must have the time off for the funeral,’ he said.

  They decided to close both shops as well as the tea room on the day of the funeral. It was the only way they could all attend.

  Lily travelled down the evening before and found Marion grieving but calm. The next morning Lily set up the dining room with plates and cutlery ready for the cold meats and cakes she’d brought for the funeral tea. She set out glasses too as Mr Bax and Pierre were bringing sherry.

 
The weather kept fine for the church service and burial. Afterwards, they returned to the house for the food. ‘Have you thought about coming to stay with me for a while?’ Lily asked Marion.

  ‘Bless you, Lily. Perhaps I’ll come one day but just now I want to be near Hilda.’

  ‘You’ll look after yourself?’

  ‘I shan’t be foolish.’

  Lily was worried all the same. Marion was composed – heroically so – but Lily wondered if she’d simply go through the motions of life until she was reunited with her sister.

  ‘You needn’t worry about me,’ Marion insisted. ‘I feel my best years are behind me but at my age there’s nothing wrong in that. I’ll be perfectly content visiting Hilda’s grave and hearing your news now and again.’

  ‘I’ll write often,’ Lily promised.

  They ensured Marion’s house was spotless and her pantry well-stocked before setting out for London. Artie accompanied them all to Highbury but declined to come inside. ‘I need to catch up on some paperwork.’

  ‘Don’t tire yourself.’

  ‘I like to work. I need to work too if I’m to have a comfortable future.’ He hesitated then added, ‘You must know how I feel about Celia, Lil. I’m going to wait until I’ve proved myself to Mr Grover for a while longer then I’m going to speak to him about her. Obviously I’m not in a position to propose marriage yet, but I’d like his permission to court Celia formally. Wish me luck?’

  THIRTY

  Afterwards Lily felt grateful to the stranger who happened to be walking along the pavement towards them just then. His approach gave Lily an excuse to step aside to make room for him and in the process she made a supreme effort to hide her distress.

  ‘There’s nothing I want more than for you to be happy,’ she told Artie, because that at least was true.

  They parted and Lily went inside, climbing the stairs to the tea room on heavy feet. ‘You look all-in,’ Phyllis remarked.

  ‘Artie’s planning to ask Celia’s father for permission to court her.’

  ‘You don’t think he’ll get it?’

  ‘Either way I’m worried for him. He’ll be terribly disappointed if Mr Grover refuses and it might make it awkward for him to continue working for the family. But if Mr Grover consents, I’m worried Celia will make Artie unhappy after a while. Can you honestly see her settling down to the sort of modest life he can offer?’