Joyce sat in silence staring at her burnt certificate.
Barbara squeezed Joyce’s hand. ‘Coming here every day taught me a lot, even if it was only how hard Simon and you worked to keep it going. I think he hated it. He only kept it so he could see you every day. My mother was right when she said keeping it going had robbed him of his dreams, although I couldn’t see it at the time.’
Joyce gave a wry smile. ‘He told me that before he went off to do his training.’
Barbara watched as a tear slowly rolled down Joyce’s cheek. ‘You and Simon can start again. He loves you and I know you love him; otherwise you wouldn’t be sitting here like this.’
Joyce shook her head. ‘Simon and I have hardly spoken since he’s been back. He never wrote to me and he didn’t tell me he was back so I think that moment has gone.’
Barbara sighed. ‘I’ve never seen two more miserable people who are determined to stay apart.’
Joyce couldn’t look at Barbara. ‘It was clearly not meant to be.’
Barbara shook her head. ‘Well, regardless of Simon, you need to pick yourself up and start again, as indeed will Simon when he’s ready.’
Joyce looked up. ‘I don’t have the money to start again. I just need to find other work.’
Barbara stood up. ‘We just need to put our thinking caps on; I’m sure between us we can come up with something. I’m not going to let you throw everything away.’
Joyce watched as Barbara started to pace around the room. ‘Why? I thought you didn’t like me.’
Barbara smiled. ‘I admit I wasn’t sure at first. I didn’t know anything about you and I must admit I thought you were probably using Simon.’
Joyce gasped. ‘I wouldn’t do that to anybody, let alone Simon.’
‘I know. It wasn’t based on anything, except my immaturity and maybe being protective of my brother.’ Barbara paused. ‘I’m ashamed to say I went out of my way to make life difficult for you when you should have had my support.’ She smiled. ‘You truly got my respect when you stood up to our lovely landlord, Mr Harris. You’re a brave woman and I’m sorry for not being a better person, especially as I do believe I’m going to end up as your sister-in-law.’
Joyce twisted her hands in her lap. ‘Thank you, but that’s never going to happen. I appreciate your honesty, especially as I’ve had so many lies told to me. None of it matters now; it’s all in the past.’
Barbara threw her arms around her. ‘Thank you; now, we just need to figure out how you can move forward with your cooking.’
‘Are you girls planning on robbing the place?’
Joyce froze on the spot. Fear ran down her spine. Her chest tightened. She took a breath before looking round towards the open door. ‘Mr Harris, we’ve come to see how bad it is and what can be rescued.’
Mr Harris remained silent. He didn’t take his eyes off Joyce. ‘Well, make the most of the next couple of days because I’ll be round to change the locks after that.’
Joyce stood up. ‘What? Aren’t you going to repair it so it can reopen?’
Mr Harris laughed. ‘I told you once I’m not my father. It will not be reopening as a café.’
Joyce glared at him. ‘But we have a contract—’
‘Do you? Would you like to find it for me so we can read it together?’
Joyce marched over to the counter to the drawer where she had placed the contract. The scorched wood scratched as she pulled it open, splintering in places. Gasping, she moved her hand from side to side, lifting bits up, but it wasn’t there. She looked up at Mr Harris, her eyes blazing with anger. ‘Have you taken it?’
Mr Harris sneered. ‘I told you I’m not like my father. I’m tired of being a landlord and trying to manage my father’s ridiculous contracts.’ He clapped his hands together. ‘Now that you can’t open the café, any contract you might have had has been broken so I’m selling. What’s more I have a few interested parties lined up so you only have a few days to pack up your things and vacate the premises.’
Joyce’s anger raged through her body. ‘Did you start the fire?’
Mr Harris laughed. ‘Oh dear, what a question to ask your landlord.’ He turned and walked towards the door looking like the cat that got the cream. He didn’t look back.
Joyce screamed after him. ‘We’re not finished.’
22
Joyce put the last of the washing-up onto the wooden draining board and emptied the water out of the bowl before rinsing her hands under the cold tap.
Rose and Annie took it in turns to dry the breakfast dishes.
Annie picked up a tea plate and rubbed it vigorously before placing it on the plate rack. ‘I know this might be a delicate question, Joyce, but have you decided what you’re going to do now the café is shut?’
Rose frowned at Annie before glancing across at Joyce.
‘What?’
Annie grabbed another tea plate. ‘We can’t pretend everything is all right when it isn’t.’
Joyce chuckled as she glanced over at her friends. ‘Annie’s been mixing with you too much, Rose. I suppose decisions will have to be made.’
‘Charming.’ Rose feigned a hurt expression. ‘Well, insults aside, you’ll have to make some decisions if only because you don’t wanna be stuck in here all day.’
Joyce smiled at the girls. ‘I’m so pleased you two are here. I’m very lucky. Although I must admit I haven’t felt like that lately.’ She grabbed the nearby towel and dried her hands on the rough cotton. ‘But you’re right I do need to start thinking about it.’ She paused. ‘Barbara was in the café while I was sitting there looking at everything.’
‘And, getting upset, I bet,’ Rose piped up.
Joyce ignored her quip. ‘She thinks I should start again, with Simon.’ Her lips tightened. She lowered her eyes. ‘I don’t know where Simon’s head is at the moment. It might be best if I just try to move on by myself for now, and maybe with time, we could sort ourselves out.’
Annie nodded. ‘I can see why Barbara thinks that, because you’re clearly in love with each other. It would seem everybody can see it except you two. But if we shelve that for a moment, we need to work out what you are going to do next. Perhaps we should all sit down and write down some ideas.’
Rose’s face lit up. ‘Oh I love that idea, we can all just shout out whatever we think and then cross out what doesn’t work. This could be fun.’
Joyce laughed at her friend. ‘You best keep it clean. Remember there’s a five-year-old in the house.’
The girls filed out of the kitchen and walked along the hall to the dining room. They each pulled out a wooden chair and sat at the table. There was suddenly a sound of ripping paper as Rose tore a page out of one of her sketchpads and grabbed a pencil. ‘Right, where shall we start?’
Joyce stared down at the blank page. ‘I don’t know. I’m not even sure what we need to write down. I don’t actually know what I’m going to be doing.’
Arthur walked into the room and looked at the girls staring blankly at the table. ‘What are you all up to?’
Joyce looked up with relief at seeing him. ‘That’s a very good question, and if I knew the answer I would tell you.’ She laughed. ‘No, I do know what we’re doing: we’re trying to make a list of jobs that need to be done.’
‘What sort of jobs?’ Arthur frowned. ‘Are you talking about jobs around the house?’
Annie laughed. ‘No, you’re all right. You’re quite safe. We’re trying to think what Joyce could do to start again.’
Arthur pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. He waved Philip over as he walked into the room. ‘Come and sit on my knee. We’re trying to sort your sister out.’
Philip giggled. ‘What do you mean sort her out?’
Joyce smiled at him. ‘I can no longer work at the café because it’s closed so I have to find something else to do.’
Philip’s mouth opened wide. ‘You’re not going to stop cooking, are you?’
Laugh
ter filled the room.
Rose looked at Joyce. ‘Out of the mouths of babes.’
‘All right, all right, but how am I going to start again? I can’t afford to open a shop or café, so how am I going to manage?’
*
Joyce ran her damp palms down the sides of her black dress, wishing she hadn’t been practical and had instead worn something more colourful. She stood outside Simon’s house with Barbara firmly by her side.
‘Are you ready?’ Barbara glanced across at Joyce.
Beads of perspiration started to form on Joyce’s forehead. Her eyes widened as she turned to stare at her. ‘I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready; I think this was a bad idea. He probably won’t want to see me.’
‘You two need to talk to each other, and both of you are letting pride get in the way. Well, I can tell you I’m not going to stand by and watch you both throw it all away.’ Barbara shook her head. ‘I know he won’t be able to take his eyes off you. Trust me, I have to live with him.’ She stooped down and picked up the two large shopping bags.
Joyce closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She had prayed for God to give her this chance so now she had to put her fear behind her. She opened her eyes before stooping down to pick up the two heavy bags at her feet.
Barbara nodded and stepped nearer the front door, with Joyce close behind her.
Joyce gasped as the door flew open; she was terrified Simon was going to be on the other side of it.
‘Joyce, how wonderful to see you. Please come in.’ Mavis beamed at the girl she was convinced would be her daughter-in-law one day. She just needed to bang their heads together. She chuckled. Hmm, maybe locking them in a room together might be a better idea.
Joyce forced herself to smile. ‘Hello, Mavis, it’s lovely to see you again.’
Mavis moved aside so the girls could step inside. ‘My goodness, what have you got there?’
Barbara grinned at Joyce. ‘It was everything we could carry from the café. Mr Harris is selling it or something so we went back and stripped it bare.’
‘There’s more but we couldn’t carry it.’ Joyce dropped the bags at her feet. ‘Simon might want to start again one day. I know his father’s dream was important to him.’
Mavis shook her head. ‘It was important to his father but I want Simon to let go of it. He’s wasted too many years living his father’s life.’
Joyce’s heart sunk. She was on her own.
Mavis shut the door behind the girls. ‘Anyway, I’ll let Simon know you are here then Barbara and I will go and prepare dinner so you two can catch up.’
Joyce’s heart was pounding in her chest. She wrung her hands together. ‘Please don’t worry. I should go really.’ She turned to face the door.
Barbara reached out and tucked her arm in Joyce’s. ‘It would be rude not to have a cup of tea with us.’
Mavis raised her eyebrows as the corner of her mouth lifted. ‘Let’s go into the sitting room.’
Barbara clung on to Joyce and guided her through an open doorway further along the hall. ‘Simon, look who’s popped in. Take a seat, Joyce, and I’ll help my mother with the tea.’
Colour flooded Joyce’s cheeks. ‘Thank you.’ She perched on the edge of an armchair close to the fireplace. She felt Simon’s eyes on her. ‘Hello, Simon, I’m sorry to spoil your peace and quiet. Barbara and I have been clearing out the café so I helped bring some of it home. How are you feeling now?’ Her words tripped over each other in the haste to break the silence.
Simon smiled. ‘Slow down, you talk so fast when you’re nervous.’
Joyce pulled back her shoulders. ‘I’m not nervous; it’s just we haven’t really talked since the day you asked… Anyway, how are you? I hope there was no lasting damage from being in that fire.’ She hesitated for a second. ‘I think Mr Harris caused the fire. I’m almost certain I saw him outside the café that night.’
Simon frowned. ‘If he did the police couldn’t find any evidence of it. They have already been to see me and said it looked like an accident.’
Joyce’s eyes widened. ‘I find that hard to believe. I know it was him. He wanted us out of there.’
Simon gazed at her. ‘I’ve missed you.’ He looked down at his burnt hands. ‘In fact I miss seeing you every day.’
Joyce opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. It was now or never. She looked anxiously at the door that Barbara had pulled to when she left the room.
Simon laughed. ‘Don’t worry, they won’t be back for ages. They’re as subtle as someone hitting you on the head with a house brick.’
Joyce nervously glanced around the room, barely noticing the plush deep green curtains or the many family photographs that stood on every surface. ‘You have a lovely home.’
Simon’s lips tightened. ‘Is that what we’re going to do? Make polite small talk and ignore what’s sitting between us. I made that mistake before and I’m not going to make it again—’
‘No, wait, it’s me who should clear the air between us.’ Joyce peered down at her hands clasped together on her lap. ‘It’s me who ruined everything. It’s me who said no when I should have said yes. It’s me who prayed you would come out of that fire so I could tell you what you mean to me.’ She looked across the room at Simon and took a deep breath. ‘It’s me who wanted you to know how much I love you, and how I regretted saying no to your proposal.’ Heat flooded her cheeks. She looked back down at her hands, not wanting to see his embarrassment at her words. The silence seemed to hang in the air between them. She stood up. ‘Anyway, I should go.’
‘No, wait, please sit back down.’ Simon stared at her. ‘Please.’
Joyce slowly lowered herself back on to the armchair.
Grimacing, Simon flexed his fingers. ‘I’ve never stopped loving you; in fact I’ve loved you since the first day we met. That was not long after your father died. Well, maybe I should say not long after the news of the Titanic sinking. I thought I’d left it too long and lost you for good when I proposed. It’s something I regretted after.’
Joyce’s heart sunk. She felt sick about what had she done. ‘I can understand that after the way I spoke to you.’
Simon tried to edge forward in his seat. His mouth tightened as the pain of his injuries gripped him.
‘Don’t.’ Joyce jumped up. ‘Please don’t try and get up, I don’t want you to hurt yourself anymore.’
Simon sucked in his breath. ‘Please come and sit nearer to me.’
Joyce walked over and sat at his feet, careful not to touch his injured legs.
Simon took a breath. ‘You smell lovely.’
Joyce looked up and smiled. ‘It’s orange blossom. I no longer smell of fried food.’
Simon gently rested his hand on her shoulder. ‘When I said I regretted it, you must know I don’t regret proposing to you; it was my timing. I’ve had years to ask you and I waited until your life was turned upside down. I couldn’t have got it more wrong.’
Joyce’s eyes became watery as she looked up at him. ‘If it’s any consolation to you I’ve waited years too, and I regretted it after you’d gone. I thought you’d changed your mind because you didn’t come and say goodbye so I could tell you I was sorry.’
Simon shook his head. ‘It’s all such a mess. I did go to the café that morning but you weren’t there.’ He took a breath. ‘I thought you were so angry with me that I was never going to see you again.’
Joyce tightened her lips. ‘You’re right, it is a mess. I was late that morning because Philip had wet the bed. When I realised you had gone I couldn’t believe you had just left me without saying goodbye.’ Her throat tightened as she looked up at Simon and moved onto her knees. ‘I love you with all my heart.’
Simon lowered his head and let his lips brush hers. ‘I love you too but the problem is I no longer have a future, or a business to offer—’
‘Sshhh.’ Joyce placed her fingers on his lips before lifting herself up to softly press her lips against his.
*
Ted pushed open the black door of the Dog and Duck Public House and stepped inside and out of the muggy weather the summer had brought. It took a few minutes for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. The barman looked towards the door. The stench of stale alcohol and cigarette smoke immediately hit him and the soles of his shoes stuck to the floor, making walking noisier and slower. He looked around. He had never been in here at lunchtime before. A couple of old men sat in the corner nursing their pints of beer. It looked and felt different to him. It was shabby and run-down with its sawdust sprinkled on the floor. He nodded at the barman who was using a grey piece of rag to wipe down the drinking glasses while reading a newspaper that was laid out across the bar.
The barman nodded back.
‘Is it all right to go through to the back room?’ Ted took a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket. He fidgeted with the box, suddenly riddled with doubt. He was out of his depth and he knew it. ‘Is Mickey Simmons in?’
The barman nodded. ‘I don’t know if he’s seeing anybody, but just knock and go through. I’m sure they’ll soon throw you out if they don’t want you in there.’
Ted smiled, although he didn’t know what he was smiling at. He certainly didn’t want to get on the bad side of Mickey Simmons again. He took a couple of breaths before striding forward and giving a sharp rap on the door with his knuckles. Immediately he twisted the handle, opened the door and walked in.
Slips marched over towards Ted. ‘Oh my goodness, Ted, what are yer doing here? Haven’t you had enough? I didn’t think I’d see yer for a while.’
‘Slips, I’m here to see your father.’
Slips smiled. ‘And what business could you possibly have with my father when there is no game going on?’
Ted smiled. ‘I don’t wish to be rude, Slips, but I want to talk to Mickey. I have money and I want to talk business.’
Big Dreams for the West End Girls Page 32
