The nurse reached out and touched Joyce’s arm. ‘Are you all right? You’ve gone very pale.’
‘Sorry.’ Joyce moved her head from side to side trying to peer between the people milling about. ‘I thought for a moment I saw … but that’s not possible.’
The nurse smiled. ‘It’s understandable with the number of people coming and going.’
Joyce turned her attention back to the nurse. ‘I expect that’s so. I’ve never been inside this hospital before; it’s so big.’
The nurse nodded. ‘I take it you’re here to visit someone?’
‘My grandmother, Mrs Taylor, I’ve been told she’s in a coma.’ Joyce shrugged. ‘I understand she won’t know I’ve visited but thought I’d come and talk to her anyway.’
The nurse clasped her hands in front of her. ‘I don’t know if that’s true or not. I’ve heard it said that the last thing to go is the hearing so if that’s the case she’ll know what you’re saying.’
Joyce’s eyes widened. ‘I didn’t know that; thank you. Now, I just need to find her.’
The nurse held out her hand, indicating to the left of her. ‘If you go over to the reception they’ll be able to help you.’
‘Thank you again.’
‘That’s all right. Take care and good luck.’ The nurse turned and walked away into the throng of people coming and going.
Joyce watched her, her footsteps silent on the tiled floor.
Half an hour later Joyce had climbed the stairs and was standing outside a side room staring at an elderly grey-haired lady who looked like she was asleep. Suddenly wishing she hadn’t come, Joyce wondered what was she going to say to her. What if she woke up and wasn’t happy to see her? Joyce turned to walk away.
‘Ah, you found your grandmother then? You weren’t leaving, were you?’
The nurse from downstairs was standing in front of Joyce. ‘No, I just wasn’t sure what to do.’
The nurse frowned. ‘I know it’s scary but don’t be afraid to go in. She’s just asleep and not in any pain and don’t forget she might be able to hear you, so say everything you want to say. You know, let her know you love her, or what you’ve been doing since you last spoke to her.’
Joyce nodded.
‘Would you like me to come in with you?’
‘No, no, thank you,’ Joyce whispered. ‘I appreciate the offer but I’ll be fine.’ Joyce stepped into the side room, not taking her eyes off the woman lying so still under the bedcovers. The nurse was right. Her grandmother looked like she was in a deep sleep. Slowly lowering herself on to the wooden chair next to the pristine made bed, she wondered what had brought her here. Was it curiosity? She reached out to take her grandmother’s thin, bony hand but changed her mind at the last minute.
A nurse popped her head around the open door. ‘Is everything all right in here?’
Joyce looked up.
‘I’m at the nurses’ station should you have any worries about Mrs Taylor. We are keeping her as comfortable as we can.’
Joyce gazed back down at her grandmother. ‘She looks peaceful.’
The nurse nodded. ‘Mrs Taylor doesn’t really get any visitors, although a man has been in a couple of times recently; in fact you’ve probably only just missed him.’
Joyce frowned as she peered over at the nurse. ‘Do you know who the man is?’
The nurse shook her head. ‘No, to be honest we were all just happy she had someone talking to her.’
Guilt swamped Joyce and she stared at her grandmother. ‘I’ve only recently found out she was in here.’
The nurse looked contrite. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to speak out of turn.’
Joyce shook her head. ‘You haven’t, I’m just saying.’
The nurse glanced down the corridor. ‘I’m sorry, I have to go but don’t be afraid to ask if you need anything.’
Joyce glanced up but the nurse was already gone. She fidgeted in her chair. ‘Well, Gran, if I’m honest I don’t know what to say or actually why I’m here. I don’t think we really know each other that well and that saddens me, especially as you’re my only family now my father has died.’ She frowned. ‘Even more so now I know Uncle Arthur isn’t really my uncle.’ She gently wrapped her hand around her grandmother’s cold fingers. ‘I wish now I’d come to see you but I thought it would be betraying my father.’ She paused. ‘Not that I know what you two argued about, and if it was something I said or did then I’m really sorry. It must have been bad for you to kick your son and granddaughter out on to the streets.’ Joyce gently ran her thumb over the soft, loose wrinkled skin of her grandmother’s hand. ‘Especially as Pa always said one of your favourite sayings was: “Family is everything”.’
She took a deep breath and sat in silence for a moment. ‘None of it makes any sense to me, and then of course there’s Philip. Who is he and how did he end up living with you? I have so many questions and no answers.’
Crashes from the hall made Joyce jerk round, wondering if she should offer her assistance but deciding she would probably be in the way.
Joyce turned her attention back to her grandmother. ‘I’m grateful to Arthur for keeping a roof over my head after my father died, so I want to give something back, and I will do my best to give Philip a good start in life.’ She took a breath and looked around the small room. ‘It’s quite a nice size room you have here.’ Joyce sighed; she had no idea what to talk to her about. ‘I suppose I could talk to you about Philip. He chats to me a bit more now. He laughs with Arthur, but it doesn’t seem to come so easily with me. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. I suppose it’s just about time.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t know why you thought I could look after him. He was telling me his mother used to entertain a lot so now I find myself wondering what has happened to his mother and father and how he came to be in your care. So many questions and no answers, not that it matters because I want to help Philip but I don’t know how. Maybe it will come with time.’
A low moan came from the bed.
Joyce’s eyes widened. ‘I know the nurse said they thought you could hear me but I wasn’t expecting a response.’ She looked around and wondered whether to get someone, or whether this was normal. Joyce looked back at her grandmother. Her eyes were firmly shut. She took a deep breath. ‘Stop panicking; nothing has changed.’ She reached out and took her grandmother’s hand in hers again. ‘I know it must be hard for Philip because I still miss my mother and father every day. My mother always said I was going to be a wonderful cook in a top restaurant or hotel.’ Joyce shook her head. ‘I hope she can’t see me waitressing and cooking fried breakfasts or making sandwiches all day. That’s definitely not what she had in mind. She’d be so disappointed.’
Mrs Taylor’s fingers moved in Joyce’s hand.
Joyce held her breath. ‘Are you trying to tell me something?’ Her gaze travelled between the hand she was holding and her grandmother’s face but there was nothing; she was still. The nurse’s words about her not coming round or her living through this jumped into her mind. She was letting her imagination run riot.
‘Would you like a cup of tea?’
Joyce jumped at the voice behind her. She turned to see an orderly standing in the doorway.
The orderly lowered her voice. ‘I’m not meant to offer tea to visitors but if you don’t tell anyone I can make you one.’
Joyce nodded. ‘That would be lovely, thank you, but please don’t get yourself into trouble.’
The orderly shrugged. ‘It’s no bother; it’s only a cuppa.’ She disappeared back into the hall and came back a minute later carrying the tea.
Joyce smiled. ‘Thank you, that’s wonderful.’
‘It must be hard sitting with Mrs Taylor, especially as there’s no response to any conversation.’
Joyce let go of her grandma’s hand and took the cup that was offered to her. ‘I think she can hear me. She moved her fingers just now and I’m convinced she groaned earlier.’
The orderly ra
ised her eyebrows. ‘I’ll let the nurse know just in case something has changed.’
‘Do you think she might be coming round?’
The orderly rested her hand on Joyce’s shoulder. ‘I think the doctors should be told of any changes.’
Joyce nodded. Was there a chance her grandmother could come round and give her some of the answers she was searching for?
The orderly turned and walked towards the door. ‘I’ll let them know.’
Joyce nodded. She wanted to have hope but was sure it was misplaced. She took a deep breath. ‘Well, Grandma, I’ve been given a lovely cup of tea, although no one is meant to know about it, so make sure you don’t tell anyone.’ She sipped the strong hot tea. ‘So what were we talking about before you moved your fingers? I can’t remember but I expect it was either my parents or Philip; I can’t seem to think about anything else these days. I’m trying not to think about Simon. Oh you don’t know about Simon, so I should explain because that’s something else I messed up.’
Joyce sighed. ‘I love him more than life itself. He asked me to marry him before he went off to war, and guess what, I turned him down. I worry he won’t come back and then he will never know how much I love him. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him.’ Joyce sat in silence for a few minutes. ‘I don’t even know why I turned him down. I think I had this messed-up idea he asked me because he was going off to the front line and wanted me to keep his business going.’ She sighed. ‘And in my defence, I’d just found out about Arthur not being my uncle and about Philip; my head was all over the place.’
A groan came from the bed again.
Joyce’s eyes grew wide. ‘Can you open your eyes, Grandma? Can you speak?’
Mrs Taylor was as still as ever.
Joyce stared at her, willing her to open her eyes. Did she blink or was she imagining it? She leant in further as a low noise came from her grandmother. ‘What is it? I just know you are trying to tell me something. Is it about Philip or my father?’ She watched her intently, fearing she might miss something. Joyce drew back. Was her grandmother trying to speak? She leant in close, her ear almost touching her grandmother’s lips, but there was only silence.
Mrs Taylor’s finger made a very small movement.
Was her mind playing tricks on her? ‘I want you to know that it doesn’t matter who Philip is; I will do my best to look after him.’ Joyce sucked in her breath. ‘It shocks me that you put your faith in me, but I’m proud as well and won’t let you down, thank you.’ She brushed a grey curl off her grandmother’s forehead. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t keep in touch, I truly am. I miss my family even though I do have good friends, but sometimes I feel quite lonely.’
10
Joyce mopped her brow with a clean cloth. She glanced up at the clock; the lunchtime rush would begin soon. She sighed wondering what had happened to Barbara. How was she going to manage on her own?
‘Is there anyone serving out here?’
Joyce’s heart pounded in her ears; her head was thumping. She couldn’t be in two places at once. Joyce glanced down at the eggs frying in the pan, her grip tightened on the metal handle. ‘Sorry,’ she yelled. ‘I won’t be a moment.’ She quickly plated up the two fried breakfasts and sped through the kitchen door and headed towards the elderly couple who had been patiently waiting for over half an hour. ‘I am so sorry for the wait but it seems I’m on my own today.’
The lady looked at Joyce’s flushed face. ‘Don’t worry, love, we ’ave plenty of time.’
Joyce nodded. ‘Thank you.’ She quickly picked up a tray and moved to the nearest table to begin clearing away the used crockery. Damn Simon for burdening her with his unreliable sister. How was she meant to manage? Then it hit her. Her throat tightened. She fought to hold back the tears that were threatening to embarrass her. Maybe Barbara wasn’t in because something had happened to Simon.
‘Can we have more tea please?’ a woman called over to Joyce.
Joyce took a couple of deep breaths before glancing over in the general direction the voice came from and nodded.
A man grumbled, ‘I’m still waiting for someone to take my order.’
Joyce pulled herself upright and looked around at the customers who regularly came in for their morning tea and toast with friends. ‘I’d just like to say I’m sorry you’re all being kept waiting this morning, but I’m on my own at the moment. I’ll try and get to you as quickly as I can.’ She glanced across at Philip, who was sat quietly in the corner near the kitchen. He looked up and caught her staring at him. She quickly looked down at the table she was clearing, and began vigorously wiping it with a damp cloth.
‘Let me help. I can carry things to and from a table.’
Joyce looked round to see Philip standing there.
He reached past her and picked up the tray of empty tea things before taking a step forward to carefully weave his way through the tables.
‘No, not the whole tray it will be too heavy; just take one thing at a time. Thank you for helping me.’
Philip nodded. The cups wobbled as he placed the tray back on the table and began making his trips to and from the counter with a cup in one hand and a saucer in another.
Joyce noticed customers smiling at him and pulling their chairs in so he could get past them. She couldn’t help the gratitude that threatened to overwhelm her as she finished wiping the table down and placing the condiments back on it. Philip caught her attention as he carried on clearing another table. An abundance of pride washed over her. She took her pad out of her apron pocket and moved to the customer to take their order.
The crash of glass hitting the floor made Joyce spin round on her black serviceable shoes. Shards of glass were like icy fragments on the floor, glistening in the light coming through the window.
Joyce called out as Philip bent down to pick it up. ‘Leave it; I’ll pick it up.’
Philip’s head jerked up to watch her striding towards him.
By the time Joyce reached him she noticed he looked tearful. ‘It’s all right, accidents happen. I just don’t want you cutting yourself on the glass, that’s all.’ She rested her hand on Philip’s shoulder. ‘I’ll tell you what, you stand guard while I fetch a broom. Can you do that?’
Philip nodded, nervously picking at his off-white shirt.
Joyce disappeared into the kitchen, returning a minute later carrying a broom and a dustpan and brush. She stopped short when she saw Frank talking to Philip.
Frank looked up and smiled at Joyce. ‘’Ere let me sweep it up, while you get on. Philip’s been telling me ’ow he was trying to ’elp when he dropped the glass.’
Philip peered up at Joyce. ‘I didn’t mean to drop it; it just slipped out of my hand.’
Joyce passed the broom to Frank and stooped down in front of the small, timid lad who had been thrust into her life. ‘I know you didn’t. It doesn’t matter; it’s just a glass.’ She stood up. ‘Thank you, Frank, you always seem to appear when I’m in a mess. You’re a godsend.’ She smiled. ‘I need to take stock of things because I clearly can’t do everything.’
The bell chimed as the café door swung open. The cold wind swooshed into every corner of the café as Barbara breezed in through the open door. ‘Morning, everyone, it’s freezing out there.’ Barbara beamed at the customers as they glanced in her direction before scowling at Joyce and Frank. ‘My mother’s coming in to help with the cooking.’
For the first time, Joyce noticed the grey-haired woman standing behind Barbara. ‘Hello, Mrs Hitchin.’
Mavis Hitchin stepped forward. ‘Please call me Mavis, and I haven’t come here to help with the cooking, unless you particularly want me to. I’m here to do the washing up but I’m happy to do anything you want, as indeed is Barbara.’ Mavis glared at her daughter. ‘I’m sorry we’re late. I will make sure that we’re here early tomorrow. You shouldn’t have been left on your own. I was misled into believing we weren’t needed so early.’
Joyce hadn’t realised she had bee
n holding her breath until she gasped to take in air. ‘Thank you, Mrs Hitchin … Mavis. I’m sorry but I need to get on. There’s customers waiting. Sit down, Frank, and I’ll make you a cup of tea and a sandwich to say thank you.’ She picked up a loaded tray from the counter and marched towards the kitchen, pushing the door open with her hips. The crockery chinked together as it wobbled on the tray.
Barbara, reaching out to hold the door, smiled at Joyce. ‘Here, let me hold it open for you.’
Joyce forced a smile. ‘Thank you.’ She walked through the doorway with Mavis close behind her. She put the tray on the side and took a breath. Judging from Mavis’s smiles Simon must be all right. Joyce gave a silent prayer of thanks for that small mercy. She turned to face his mother. ‘I must admit when Barbara was late in I was concerned that everything was not all right.’
Barbara wafted in and frowned at her mother and Joyce. ‘Of course everything’s all right. Why wouldn’t it be? Ah, you’re thinking about Simon; no, as far as we know he’s fine.’ She took a step nearer to Joyce. ‘And, for the record, I’m not late. This is my brother’s business and I can come and go as I like. I’m only here to look after his interests.’
Joyce stared at her. ‘That’s not what Simon said before he left.’
Barbara smirked. ‘It doesn’t matter what Simon said. He’s not here is he? And as this business belongs to my family I believe that puts me in charge.’ She smiled and walked towards the kitchen door.
Joyce clenched her hands by her sides. ‘As you wish. You will need to take over buying the produce and if you’re going to start this time every day might I suggest you get someone to either cook or wait on the tables because I can’t do both.’
Mavis shouted across the kitchen, ‘Simon may not be here but I am, so you need to watch yourself and do as Joyce says. She runs this place not you.’ She turned to Joyce. ‘Please accept my apologies for my daughter. I think we’ve spoilt her since her father died but all of that is about to change.’
Big Dreams for the West End Girls Page 15
