The War Girls
Page 7
‘Gosh, it’s good to sit down,’ Eileen said as she and Carrie took their seats in the restaurant of Jones’s department store. ‘Wandering from floor to floor can be very wearing.’
The large store in Broadmead Shopping Centre was always very popular with residents and visitors alike, and today it was crowded.
Carrie nodded. ‘Yes, especially as neither of us have bought anything to show for our efforts. Though I’m still thinking about that red dress. After we’ve had lunch I might go back and try it on again.’
‘It did suit you, Carrie,’ Eileen said, ‘as I told you at the time. But you are never very good at making up your mind, are you?’
‘No,’ Carrie agreed cheerfully. ‘Before I part with my money I need to think several times, and then think again.’ She looked pensive for a second. ‘The thing is, I wonder if Mark would like me in that particular colour? It was a bit hot and bothersome, wasn’t it?’
Eileen made a face. ‘Does it matter whether Mark likes it or not?’ she said. ‘You’re the one who’d be wearing it, and if you like it, then surely that’s all that matters.’
‘You’re probably right,’ Carrie said, ‘but I’m always extra happy when I know he really admires something I’m wearing.’ She smiled. ‘At the moment, you haven’t got a man in your life, Eileen, so you’re fun and fancy free.’
‘Yes, and that state of affairs is likely to remain for some time to come,’ Eileen retorted. ‘Life’s too short to be worrying about what someone else wants me to wear, say or do.’
Carrie smiled across at her friend fondly. What Eileen had just said didn’t really ring true because she always went out of her way to help others and put herself last – and had devoted her life to her handicapped mother who’d been widowed for many years. Although Mrs Matthews had always been a dominant character, she’d met her match in her daughter because Eileen was determined that her mother should live as happy a life as possible, despite her infirmities. After the death of her husband, Gladys Matthews, retired head of a junior school, would have been quite happy to sit in her chair and shut the world out. But Eileen would have none of that, taking her mother to church most Sundays, and to the municipal park at the end of their road to sit watching the children playing on the swings, and to the Theatre Royal now and again. It was hard going because Mrs Matthews was often depressed. But she had certainly become used to the sound of hilarity in the house when Carrie, and Eileen’s other friends, came in for a cup of tea and a game of cards or Monopoly. Though Mrs Matthews could never understand what they found so much to giggle and laugh about all the time.
Just then, the waitress came to take their order for lunch, and as so often the case, both girls chose the same. Fish and chips with bread and butter and a pot of tea.
‘Right,’ the waitress said, marking up her pad, ‘and pudding?’
‘Ice cream, please,’ they chorused. ‘One strawberry, one vanilla.’
Presently, as they sat enjoying their meal, Carrie said, ‘How is your mother today, Eileen? You said she hasn’t been sleeping well.’
‘She hasn’t slept well for ages,’ Eileen said, ‘so nothing new there. But I wish she would eat a bit more. I’ve left her some soup I made earlier – leek and potato, which she used to enjoy so I’m hoping she’ll have had some when we get back. Though I don’t suppose she’ll have touched the fresh roll I buttered for her.’
Carrie didn’t answer for a moment, thinking how lucky her own life was in comparison. Her father was the vicar of All Saints in Knowle, and he and her mother were both in good health, and happy in the lives they had chosen. Jonathan Waters’ church always had a full congregation, and Mrs Waters was a faithful partner to him, presiding over the Mothers’ Union, and always ready with tea and sympathy for needy parishioners. But best of all, Carrie knew that they approved of her relationship with Mark and they always welcomed him into their home when he was on leave. Even though Mrs Waters had once said she thought he had chosen a very dangerous career.
‘I’ll give you a penny for them,’ Eileen said now, glancing across. ‘What’s on your mind?’
Carrie smiled quickly. ‘I was just thinking of Mark and … and how glad I am that my parents like him. And how glad I am that you, Eileen, like him as well,’ she added. ‘That you like each other. Wouldn’t it be awful if you two didn’t hit it off! I would probably have to chuck him!’
‘No you wouldn’t,’ Eileen said. She finished her meal and put down her knife and fork. ‘You’d be an idiot to chuck someone like handsome Mark Anderson. Mark with his sense of humour and that infectious laugh is someone special. If I thought I was in with a chance, I’d try my hand at stealing him from you.’
Carrie laughed out loud, knowing that Eileen would never do such a thing. They had always been great and loyal friends, and nothing would change that. Carrie’s eyes clouded briefly. She wished that Eileen could find someone like Mark, even though Eileen always said she wasn’t interested in having a man in her life. There had been one or two flirtations in the office at the Royal Insurance Company where Eileen had worked since leaving school, but Eileen was always the one to end a relationship.
‘It’s funny when you think how you and Mark met,’ Eileen said, and Carrie nodded.
‘You mean how we collided!’ she said. ‘I didn’t think it was funny at the time, but looking back on it, it certainly was funny. I mean, I had only popped down from Accounts to buy everyone a cake to go with our afternoon cuppa, and Mark was there with his back to me at the counter and turned suddenly, and knocked me right off my feet! There I was, full-length on the floor and covered in crumbs!’ Carrie giggled happily at the memory. ‘But he was so gallant as he picked me up and brushed me down and insisted on paying for all the lost cakes.’
‘I should think so too,’ Eileen said. ‘And he made sure that that was not the last time he came into The Berkeley Hotel and Restaurant, either. He haunted the place after that in the hope of seeing you, didn’t he … and that is how the affair of the century began,’ she added.
‘Lucky me,’ Carrie said simply.
‘Lucky him,’ Eileen said firmly.
With Emily in the pushchair in charge of all their bags and shopping, Abigail began walking away from the estate agent’s office in the direction she’d been given. He’d said it would only take them ten minutes and it was now two-thirty so they would be in plenty of time to arrive at the property to meet Miss Grant during the time specified.
Abigail hummed a little tune under her breath. She had a good feeling about number fourteen, and as long as she could afford the terms, they could be installed straightaway, then think of something nice for an early tea. The breakfast at Robertson’s had been very sustaining, but presently something on toast would go down very well. But the first and most important thing was to know where they were going to be sleeping tonight.
Her expression darkened as she remembered what Aunt Edna had said. ‘You must be mad, how on earth do you think you will manage … you have no experience outside here … and you won’t even have a roof over your heads …’
Well of course, part of that was true, Abigail thought, but she and Emily had managed so far, they’d arrived and survived, and it seemed likely that very soon they would have a roof over their heads. Luke was right – you could change things if you were determined.
Abigail was about to cross the road at the end of Baldwin Street in order to follow the instructions she’d been given, when suddenly a car, with its horn blasting, careered around the corner in front of her making her stop and pull back abruptly. And as she did so, Emily, together with all their belongings, was jerked right out of the pushchair. She was thrown to the ground, taking her weight on both her knees. And after a second …
‘Ow! Mummy! Look, look … my knees are bleeding! Oh, Mummy, you made me fall out of the pushchair! Ow, Ow!’
Unable to stop herself, Emily let out a scream of pain and horror as she watched blood begin to trickle down her legs.
‘I’m so sorry, darling,’ Abigail said, ‘but I had to stop quickly or we might have got run over. That car was so close to us!’
Still sobbing quietly, Emily continued examining her wounds while Abigail gathered up their belongings and wondered what to do next. They couldn’t arrive at number fourteen like this – at least not until she’d cleaned Emily up.
‘Oh no! Oh my goodness me! Let us help you! You poor little thing!’
Eileen and Carrie, having strolled to the Centre from Broadmead after their lunch, arrived just in time to see what had happened, and both sprang forward, arms outstretched.
‘I saw that!’ Eileen exclaimed, gathering Emily up into her arms but being careful to avoid her knees. ‘That taxi must have been going ninety miles an hour!’
Abigail, still crouching to collect their things, looked up gratefully. ‘Oh – thanks … thank you,’ she said. ‘I didn’t realise I was so close to the kerb.’ She swallowed. ‘We could have been killed!’
Carrie bent to pick up the remaining bag on the ground and smiled at Abigail. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘you stopped just in time, and a miss is as good as a mile, isn’t it? And your brave little girl has already stopped crying.’
Suddenly, the penny dropped as Eileen realised she recognised these two. Still holding Emily to her, she gazed at Abigail. ‘I think I’ve seen you before,’ she said slowly. ‘Weren’t you waiting for someone last night at Temple Meads? In the restaurant?’
Of course she’d seen them before! How could she ever forget those two beautiful people!
Taken aback for a moment, Abigail hesitated. ‘Well, we weren’t actually waiting for someone,’ she said. ‘My name is Abigail Wilson and this is my daughter, Emily, and you see, we’d been on a long journey from Somerset and were having a bit of a breather before we … before we had to leave to find ourselves somewhere to stay.’ She paused. She was not going to admit that they’d spent the night in the rest room. ‘We’ve left our old home,’ she went on, ‘and intend starting a new life here in Bristol even though we don’t know anyone yet. As a matter of fact, we were actually on our way to view an address which might be suitable for the two of us.’ She paused again, knowing she’d been gabbling. ‘But first I need to make Emily more comfortable.’ She glanced down. ‘Is it still stinging, darling?’ she murmured.
Still in Eileen’s arms, Emily nodded, but had stopped whimpering as she took in this new situation.
‘Well, I know exactly where we can make Emily more comfortable,’ Eileen said firmly, ‘don’t you, Carrie?’
‘Of course,’ Carrie said at once. ‘Come on, we are going to introduce you to our favourite watering hole, Mrs Wilson! Robertson’s café just over the road there! Janet will have everything necessary to make Emily forget she ever fell down! Janet’s cakes are always the talk of the town,’ Carrie went on, ‘and she sells lovely ice cream, too!’
That put a faint smile on Emily’s face. ‘Can I have an ice cream, Mummy?’ she said.
‘You can have whatever you like, Emily,’ Abigail said, relieved that things were not as bad as they could have been if she’d not stopped in time to let that car go past – and even more relieved that these two young women had arrived to help them at just the moment they were needed.
As if reading her thoughts, Eileen said, ‘Look – I am Eileen Matthews, and this is my best and most-trusted friend Carrie Waters. So – a few minutes ago you might not have known anyone, Mrs Wilson, but now you know us. You do have friends in Bristol, after all.’
Abigail, swallowing over the lump in her throat, looked up gratefully. ‘Please call me Abigail,’ she said. ‘And I am so glad to have met you, Eileen and Carrie, just at the moment I needed someone,’ she added.
But as they crossed the road towards the café, Eileen couldn’t help being curious about Mrs Abigail Wilson and her small daughter. Why would anyone come to a strange city knowing no one, and with nowhere to live? And as far as Eileen could tell – not having many belongings either. She’d noticed last night that they’d had no luggage with them, no cases for their clothes. Though they now had a pushchair and a Baker Baker carrier bag with them, so it seemed they’d done some shopping …
Which was more than could be said for Carrie who’d decided against that red dress after all.
Chapter 8
They arrived at the café, and as soon as Janet Robertson saw them enter she came forward immediately, all smiles.
‘Well – hello again!’ she said to Abigail. ‘I’m so glad you’ve popped back for some tea!’
‘Oh – you’ve been here already, Abigail?’ Carrie began, and Abigail interrupted quickly.
‘Yes, I’m sorry I didn’t mention that Emily and I did have our breakfast here earlier. But I do feel at sixes and sevens at the moment,’ she added apologetically.
‘There’s nothing for you to be sorry about,’ Carrie said, ‘and in view of everything I’m not surprised that you feel a bit bewildered.’ She turned to Janet. ‘We were on our way here when we noticed this little girl had fallen out of her pushchair – and look, Emily has hurt herself. She needs a little tender loving care, Janet.’
Within a very few minutes, out in the kitchen and with Emily sitting up on a small table, Janet had provided soap, warm water, a clean towel and some gentle ointment to put on Emily’s knees.
‘I don’t think we’ll put a plaster on these little grazes,’ Janet said, ‘because they will heal better in the fresh air.’
With the others all observing the proceedings, Abigail said, ‘Thank you very much, Janet – my goodness, we are meeting so many Good Samaritans today!’
By now it was gone three o’clock and the café was getting crowded with customers as Janet found a table for Abigail, Eileen and Carrie. Emily, having sat back in the pushchair, looked up at Janet.
‘Can I go and help Pat and Fay?’ she said. ‘After I’ve had my ice cream?’
‘You certainly can,’ Janet said, turning to go. ‘We are going to be very busy presently, so what a good thing you turned up.’
The others exchanged glances at this, and Eileen said, ‘Janet has such a way with everyone – young, and the not so young. No wonder this place is always full of her friends.’
Abigail agreed at once, going on to explain what had happened earlier. ‘Janet was so kind and she told me about Baker Baker where we bought the pushchair and one or two other things this morning.’ She paused. ‘Because … we brought very little with us.’
‘Well, what a lovely opportunity to begin all over again,’ Carrie said. ‘A fresh start for you both!’
‘That’s certainly what I’m hoping,’ Abigail said.
Janet arrived then with their tea and cakes and scones, and an ice-cream cornet for Emily. She glanced at Abigail. ‘Have you had the chance to go to Clarks estate agency yet?’
Abigail nodded. ‘Yes, thank you … and we were just on our way to visit a place they recommended when poor Emily fell from the pushchair.’
The others immediately looked interested, and Eileen said – ‘Where is this place? Do you know how to get there?’
‘Well, I was given instructions,’ Abigail said, ‘and the agent said it was a ten-minute walk away from the Centre. It’s number fourteen Redcliffe Way.’
‘Oh, that’s very close to St Mary Redcliffe church,’ Carrie said at once. ‘Not far away at all.’ She smiled at Abigail. ‘My father is a vicar, and he has preached there a number of times. It’s a beautiful building, inside and out,’ she went on, ‘and apparently when Elizabeth I came here, she declared it “the fairest and most beautiful church in all England!”’
‘Not a woman to mince her words, obviously,’ Eileen said dryly. ‘And who would dare to disagree with the queen of England.’
As soon as Emily had finished her
ice cream, she jumped from the pushchair, went over to the counter and reached up to help put out cups and saucers. Eileen smiled.
‘I think your little girl has forgotten her tumble already, Abigail.’
‘She needs to be busy,’ Abigail explained. ‘Well, she has always been expected to do her share of everything.’ Abigail didn’t go on. Now was not the time to unwrap their lives to these new friends. Perhaps, one day she would, if she ever saw either of them again.
Presently, she looked at her watch and stood up. ‘I’m afraid we shall have to go,’ she said, ‘because the owner of the house – a Miss Grant – won’t allow viewings after six o’clock. It’s hardly that, I know, but I haven’t found the place yet – though Emily is not going to like being dragged away from helping wipe down the tables.’
Eileen stood as well. ‘Would you like us to come with you?’ she said eagerly. ‘To make sure you find it OK?’
Abigail shook her head quickly. ‘No, honestly … I’m sure we’ll be all right by ourselves, and the agent said anyone could direct us.’
‘It would be no problem,’ Eileen persisted, but Carrie interrupted.
‘I expect Abigail would like a few minutes on her own to collect her thoughts, Eileen. And besides – I did promise Mum I wouldn’t be too late home this afternoon.’ Carrie shot her friend a warning glance as she spoke. Eileen had a heart of gold, everyone knew that, but sometimes she could be a bit over helpful, and Carrie thought that Abigail Wilson might prefer to deal with this particular matter on her own.
‘Oh, all right,’ Eileen said, catching on at once. She took a small notebook from her handbag and scribbled something then tore out a page and handed it to Abigail. ‘Look – this is my home telephone number if you’re desperate. So, if you need us, don’t be afraid to ring, will you?’