The woman placed her free hand to her chest, as laughter burst out from her. ‘Listen, luvvie, when a woman is walking the street in the dead of night, talking to herself, that always means it’s man trouble.’ A high-pitched cackle escaped again. ‘That, or else she’s a streetwalker with serious problems, and yer look too well turned out to be a woman of the night, selling yer wares.’
Victoria’s eyes widened. ‘I’m certainly not a streetwalker.’ She felt a mischievous moment come over her. ‘So are you a streetwalker then?’ She grinned at the unexpected conversation she was having.
The woman’s cackle grew in volume; she gasped for breath. ‘Yeah, that’s why I’m starving.’
Victoria threw back her head and roared with laughter.
The woman’s laughter gradually died down. ‘So what are yer doing, out on the streets so early?’
‘I’m just going through my thoughts, before going to the hospital; and you?’
The old lady nodded. ‘I ’ave trouble sleeping, so it helps me to come out for a walk. Anyway, I won’t ’old you up. Just remember, stop talking to yerself, and ’onesty is always best.’
Victoria frowned. ‘Thank you. Will you be all right, if I walk on?’
The old lady smiled. ‘Thank yer for caring luvvie, but I’ll be fine, now yer go off wiv yer, and don’t forget to tell yer man yer love ’im.’
Victoria nodded, turning away from the old lady, to carry on walking to the hospital. She looked over her shoulder, squinting to see in the darkness, but the old lady was nowhere to be seen. Her hand flew to her chest as panic took hold. She took a couple of deep breaths and ran back to roughly where they had chatted, staring all around her, but there was nothing. What a night, thinking of asking Ted to marry her and talking to old woman that seemed to have disappeared. Maybe she should be locked away somewhere. With one last look around her, and a shrug of her shoulders, she carried on walking towards the hospital.
The large gates of Endell Street Military Hospital beckoned.
Was Mabel back working? Victoria hadn’t seen her since she’d argued with her grandfather. Did that mean they were grieving over John? Wouldn’t they have written to her? Maybe it was time she either visited again, or wrote to them, but she didn’t want to intrude if they were grieving. She shook her head; as always, her thoughts were in turmoil. Was she doing the right thing? Did it matter? She told herself it was about not living with any regret.
Victoria entered Endell Street Hospital and sat in the reception area. Just one light shone over the receptionist’s desk in the far corner, away from the windows. She didn’t know how long she had been there, but the clock in the corner made her jump, as the musical chimes rang through the area. Victoria craned her neck to see the time, as several nurses walked past her. She could tell by their looks, they wondered what she was doing there. Women didn’t often sit there, waiting. Pushing herself off her chair, Victoria stretched her stiff arms and legs. She flopped back down on the wooden chair, as her sleepless night caught up with her. ‘Come on, you can do this.’
A nurse looked round. ‘Is everything all right?’
‘Yes, sorry.’ Victoria forced a smile. ‘I’m just trying to get myself moving.’
The nurse nodded and carried on walking by.
Victoria stood up again, craning to see the time; eight-fifteen. She took a deep breath and a step forward. No one would stop her going onto Joan of Arc ward; everyone would assume she was there to work. She stopped at the top of the stairs and steadied her breathing, before pushing open the ward doors.
‘Good morning, Victoria.’ A nurse smiled. ‘I didn’t realise you were coming in today.’
Victoria stuffed her scarf and gloves into a pocket, before hanging up her coat on a nearby peg. ‘I’m not really, but I wanted to speak to the patient in bed twenty-five, if that’s all right?’
The nurse picked up a piece of paper and glanced down the list of names. ‘Ah, Corporal Marsden, yes, by all means. He seems to have taken a step backwards and won’t eat his breakfast, so any help you can give there will be gratefully received.’
Guilt rushed through Victoria’s body. She should have faced the music sooner. Having admitted she had misled him, she should have come back for his verdict on her crime. ‘I’ll do my best.’ She pushed her shoulders back and lifted her chin, wishing she had Alice and Molly by her side, but knew this was something she had to face alone. They would be there, to pick through the pieces of the wreckage that would be the end result. Victoria marched down the ward, keeping her eyes forward; she needed all her focus on what was ahead of her. She stopped just short of bed twenty-five and watched Ted, lying very still. His eyes were shut and, for a moment, she wondered if he’d died. Her heart lurched into her throat, as she quickly stepped nearer. Ted moved his head slightly and Victoria breathed a sigh of relief. She had the urge to run her fingers through his already ruffled hair.
‘I’d know that perfume anywhere.’
Ted’s slow quiet words reached Victoria. Fear held her hostage, as all of what she was going to say left her.
‘You can stay quiet, but I know you’re here.’ He paused. ‘I didn’t think you would come back.’
Victoria cleared her throat, but her voice was but a whisper. ‘I had to.’
‘Had to, or wanted to?’
Victoria wrapped her arms around her waist, holding her sides tight. Pain gripped her chest. She took a couple of shallow breaths. ‘For me, it’s the same thing.’ She stepped forward. ‘I’ve been told you’re not eating. The nurses are worried about you.’
A throaty noise came from Ted.
‘What?’ Victoria edged closer still, her damp hands clutched tight in front of her. ‘I’m here to face the music for what I’ve done, or not done, but you still have to eat.’
‘Eat?’ Ted’s face tightened. ‘What were you doing, hedging your bets, by not telling me who you were? Were you frightened you couldn’t stay around to look after me?’
Victoria gasped. Her eyes held a steel-like quality, anger quickly replacing the fear that had held her rooted to the spot. ‘You have a nerve. You left me seven years ago, without a word of explanation.’
Ted fidgeted in bed, before pulling himself upright. He stared in her direction, trying hard to focus on her. ‘Yes, I admit that was a mistake.’
Victoria automatically stepped nearer, to plump up his pillows. ‘You have to realise that I thought you were dead, or at best missing, so when I was told to sit with Corporal Marsden, it caught me by surprise.’ She paused. ‘But when you said there was no one to inform that you were here, well, that cut right through me.’ She paced back and forth, wringing her hands, her bravado fading under the spotlight he was putting on her actions.
Ted sat in silence for a moment.
Victoria glared at him. ‘I know I was in the wrong for not telling you who I was, but that was only because it felt like it had gone on for too long, and I couldn’t see a way out of it.’
Ted stared down at his blue blanket, his hands clenched into a fist, resting on top of the cover.
Victoria pulled up a wooden chair and sat down. Just when she was beginning to think he was never going to say anything, he began to mumble.
‘I can believe that, because that’s how I felt, when I ran away seven years ago.’
Victoria leant in nearer to him. She breathed in deeply, taking in the smell of carbolic soap, mixing with his body’s natural smell. Could she touch him? Did she dare touch him?
Ted interrupted her musings. ‘I immediately regretted my actions, but I couldn’t see my way back. That’s when I joined the army, to try to forget you, but I thought about you every day. I was a coward for not being there for you, when you needed me more than ever.’
Tears began to prick at her eyes, as his words took her back to those painful days. ‘It’s understandable; I suppose I didn’t deal with it very well.’
Ted’s face contorted with anger. ‘No, I’m not having that. You were sixt
een and both your parents had died. You were suddenly responsible for a younger sister and brother; how were you meant to deal with it?’
Victoria shrugged. ‘I’ve been lucky to have Alice and Molly, to keep picking me up when I fall.’ She paused. ‘They have been really good friends to me.’
Ted nodded. ‘Well, let’s face it, you find out who your true friends are, when you need someone. I’m sorry, more than you’ll ever know. I’m sorry I was a coward and let you down, but I’m pleased you had them both. They are good friends, who no doubt, won’t be happy to see me.’
Victoria couldn’t take her eyes off him. ‘They just want me to be happy, with someone who treats me right.’ Without realising it, she shrugged off the weight she had been carrying on her shoulders. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you who I was, right from the beginning. What I don’t understand is why you didn’t want the hospital to contact me.’
Ted fidgeted in the bed, moving his legs up and down a few times.
Victoria raised her voice a little. ‘Are you going to tell me?’
He frowned and took a deep breath. ‘In my mind, I always thought, when I came home, I’d try and make up for everything I’d done, all the hurt I’d caused, before I asked you to marry me. But then I was in here, with nothing to offer you. I had no sight and no job prospects. I didn’t want to drag you down with me, and besides, I had no right to ask after everything I’d done.’
Victoria’s jaw dropped open. ‘You were…’ Her voice dropped to a whisper. ‘You were going to ask me to marry you.’
Ted shook his head. ‘I know it’s ridiculous, because nothing has changed, I still have nothing to offer you, so I have no right to ask.’
Victoria’s gaze darted from side to side. ‘It’s not about work and what you have to offer, it’s about whether you can be trusted not to run away, when things get tough. No one wants to be friends with, let alone married to, someone who lets them down and runs away, when something unbearable happens.’
Ted moved his hands over the bedcover, searching for Victoria’s, and placed his over them.
Victoria gasped, as butterflies flew around her stomach. The urge to hold him close was unbearable.
Ted squeezed her hand. ‘I’ve learnt too, and I want to prove it to you.’ He groaned. ‘Well I did, before I lost my sight.’
Victoria shook her head, fighting her natural urges that the electricity between them was creating. She suddenly had an insight into how Molly had struggled with Andrew, and how useless some of her advice had been. ‘So what’s your answer, push me out of your life again, because things are tough?’
Ted snatched his hand away from hers. ‘Look, how can I do anything else, if I can’t be the breadwinner, if I can’t look after my wife and family.’
Victoria gasped. Marriage and family; was she going to lose it all again? ‘So it’s all up to you, is it? Well, sight or no sight, maybe I would have said no.’ Impatience and anger took hold of Victoria. ‘It’s not about whether you can see or not, it’s about how you cope with it. I don’t want to be married to someone who thinks of himself as a victim. We’re all victims, one way or another, but to always think of yourself as one, destroys you and everyone around you.’ Victoria pushed a piece of cold toast towards him. ‘Eat your breakfast, and don’t think I’m going to be here for every mealtime, to make sure you eat. I’m not your mother and have no desire to be so.’
Ted sat in silence for a few minutes. ‘That told me.’ He picked up the limp slice of bread and bit into it.
Victoria wanted to laugh. ‘I’m afraid I’m not the innocent little sixteen-year-old anymore.’ She paused. ‘You know, one thing I have learnt, thanks to Alice, Molly and this war, is that we’re all stronger than we think. I’ve also come to realise it takes time to grieve, and to allow you to be built back up again. You have to keep the faith that everything will work out in the end.’
‘And that’s what you’ve done.’ Ted shook his head. ‘I can only admire you, Victoria. You’ve grown into a strong woman.’
Victoria laughed. ‘Alice and Molly might tell you otherwise, but what I can tell you is, it wasn’t a choice. It was about survival, and keeping my family together.’ She paused. ‘You must have had to fight, to survive all this time, so where’s your fight now?’
Ted sighed. ‘Your letters gave me hope for the future, and I just feel as though the future has been ripped away from me.’
The pair of them sat in silence for a few minutes.
Victoria reached over and took his hand in hers; her skin tingled. The overwhelming feeling of being safe, and at home, wrapped itself around her. She ran her thumb over the top of his soft hand. ‘I have something to ask you.’ She stared down at his hand, mesmerised by the movement of her thumb. She took a deep breath. ‘Will you marry me?’
24
Molly paced down one of the aisles in Foyles Bookshop, wishing her legs were as long as her manager’s. ‘Mr Leadbetter, I’ve done a sign for the window, telling everyone Father Christmas will be in the Children’s Section today, from ten o’clock until four. Is it all right for me to put it in the window?’
Mr Leadbetter turned round, taking in the tinsel that she had clipped into her blonde hair. He laughed at her excitement. ‘I can see you’re getting into the spirit of things, Mrs Greenwood.’
‘Of course, Mr Leadbetter, it’s Christmas Eve and I’m determined that we are going to enjoy Christmas, despite the awful war. It will be good for the children not to worry about their fathers for a couple of hours, and just be children.’
Mr Leadbetter studied her for a moment. ‘You have a good heart, Mrs Greenwood. Is your husband here?’
‘He’s in the basement, getting into the red suit and white beard.’ She giggled. ‘We brought a couple of pillows from home, because he’s not round enough.’
Mr Leadbetter threw his head back and roared with laughter. ‘It’s good to see you’re taking it seriously. Make sure you place the sign where everyone can see it.’
‘Thank you, Mr Leadbetter.’ Molly began to race towards the shop window, slowing down when she nearly collided with an excitable little girl.
Mr Leadbetter grinned as he walked away. He chuckled, as he watched a very rotund Father Christmas come out from the staff area, quickly followed by Victoria. He peered left and right, trying to decide which way to go. Mr Leadbetter shook his head, as Molly was suddenly beside her husband.
Molly hung the side ribbon of the long white beard over Andrew’s ears, tweaking a couple of the soft curls that had escaped. She breathed in his familiar musky scent, which filled her with joy, as it aroused memories of their turbulent courtship. She leant back a little, studying Father Christmas. His fur-trimmed red hat sat at a jaunty angle, covering his brown hair. The pillows didn’t look out of place, covered by the red coat, and held by the wide black belt. Andrew had taken some of Molly’s rouge and smeared it on his cheeks, in circular movements. Molly nodded; he looked jolly, just as all Father Christmas’s should. ‘Give me a ho, ho, ho.’
Andrew’s colour began to rise, mingling with the neatly applied rouge. ‘Ho, ho, ho,’ he said, at the top of his voice.
Molly giggled. As she studied him, her laughter gradually faded. ‘I love you, Andrew.’ She went on her tiptoes and kissed him. ‘I’ve had an idea, which could help the men that come home from the front, but we’ll have to talk about it later.’ She pulled at his arm. ‘Come on; let’s get you upstairs. I think there’s already a queue of very excited children.’
They both went up the stairs and gasped when they saw the line of children, snaking round the section. Their chatter and excitement gradually subsided as, one by one, they realised Father Christmas had arrived.
A little girl ran over to Father Christmas and put her hand in his. ‘I’m at the end of the line, with my ma. Will you still have time to listen to what I want for Christmas?’
Andrew stooped down in front of the little girl. ‘Of course, Father Christmas has time for all chil
dren.’
The little girl beamed and clapped her hands, before running back to her mother.
Andrew stood up and glanced around him. ‘It hadn’t occurred to me it was going to be this busy.’
Molly smiled. ‘There are lots of children that need the excitement of Christmas, especially as their fathers have been gone for so long.’
Andrew nodded, before shouting at the top of his voice. ‘Ho, ho, ho, Merry Christmas everybody.’
Everyone yelled back, ‘Merry Christmas.’
Molly giggled; the atmosphere was full of excitement and anticipation.
Andrew walked over to a brown, wingback chair and sat down. He carefully adjusted his padded stomach, to ensure it didn’t move position.
Molly walked over to her counter, picked up one of the boxes of children’s books and carried it over to Father Christmas, placing it on the floor, next to the chair. She looked at her husband and whispered, ‘Are you ready?’
He nodded. ‘As ready as I’ll ever be. This is scary stuff, you know.’
Molly laughed. ‘You’ll be all right. Don’t forget you’re my hero, and I’ll be here.’
Andrew raised his eyebrows and took a deep breath, calling the first child over, in his best Father Christmas voice. He guessed her to be about six years old.
A choir burst into song and the words of ‘Away in a Manger’ filtered up to them from the street below. A couple of customers joined in and gradually, the whole queue was singing. Molly found herself unable to resist singing along with the words of the Christmas carol.
A woman held her little girl’s hand, as they took the couple of steps towards Father Christmas.
‘Hello little one, and what’s your name?’
The little girl looked shyly up at her mother, who nodded her encouragement. ‘Susan.’
Andrew beamed at the little girl. ‘Well, Susan, that’s a lovely name. Would you like to sit on my knee, so we can have a little chat?’
Susan nodded.
Andrew reached out and picked her up. ‘Now, do you have a Christmas wish?’
Christmas at the Foyles Bookshop (The Foyles Girls) Page 30
