by Rosie James
‘Abigail was quite right about the place, Mother. It’s a tiny cottage standing in what looked like a huge amount of land – not that we were shown around, we just sat in the kitchen and made small talk with Aunt Edna.’ Eileen paused. ‘She seems slightly weird but quite nice and, as Abigail explained, Coopers is about to be run by others so that the old girl can go off and do other things.’
Gladys Matthews nodded. ‘That seems fair to me after such a long time running the place. But I’m so relieved that there was nothing worse to hear … I’ve been thinking about it all day.’
‘The thing is,’ Eileen went on, ‘Abigail was amazed that her aunt had bothered to contact her. Because if she hadn’t, Abigail would never have known what was going on, nor that she had to be part of this arrangement nor that she was in line to receive substantial money! It has come as a complete shock, and she was going over and over it all coming home on the train, trying to make sense of it.’
‘But what a wonderful end to the story,’ Gladys Matthews said. ‘Despite everything, old, hard feelings have disappeared and there’s some financial security for Abigail and Emily. And they both deserve this, Eileen. What courage Abigail showed in doing what she did, and as a single mother, entirely alone.’
Eileen squeezed her mother’s hand. ‘And what luck they had in coming here, Mother – in meeting you, I mean. Because Emily wouldn’t have blossomed as she has without your influence in her life.’
Gladys Matthews shrugged off the compliment. ‘No, what luck that Emily fell out of her pushchair and that you and Carrie were there to pick her up! Lucky for them and lucky for me too,’ Gladys Matthews added.
Eileen stood up, yawning. ‘Gosh, I’m quite tired after all the excitement! And Abigail must be shattered – it’s been a lot for her to take in. And she still has to return to the village to sign all the papers. She’s already decided that she’ll go on Thursday the 22nd of June – the solicitors specified June, and they’re only there on Tuesdays and Thursdays. So she’ll get the day off from Blackwell’s, and Emily will have to miss school for once because Abigail wants her to go as well. As she said, once this is all sealed and settled, it could be a long time before either of them go to the village again.’
Eileen picked up their empty mugs. ‘And you did say that you three had a lovely time today too, Mother? Emily certainly seemed to have enjoyed it – plus the ice creams!’
‘They were so happy and good, the pair of them,’ Gladys Matthews said. ‘I’ve promised that we’ll do it all again.’ She smiled. ‘And to conclude the event with Emily’s favourite supper made the day!’
Eileen went over to the door. ‘Oh, talking of food – don’t forget that we’ve all been invited to the vicarage for afternoon tea tomorrow. That includes you, Mother – so you will come, won’t you?’
‘I see no reason why not,’ Gladys Matthews said. ‘Though I have no idea where I’m getting all my appetite from!’
Chapter 37
22nd June 1944
It was one of the finest days in what had been a cool and unsettled month, and Abigail and Emily were standing on the platform at Temple Meads, waiting for their eight o’clock train.
‘Do you remember being here before, Emily?’ Abigail said.
Emily nodded. ‘I think so,’ she said. ‘I remember all the noise and all the people.’
Abigail had decided that there was no need to take Emily to Coopers because Edna had offered to buy them all lunch at the café before going on to Gibbons and Drew together, so she would meet her great-niece then.
Suddenly, with a huge roar, their approaching train hissed its way into the station, eventually pulling up for them to get in. And as they found a carriage, Emily clambered on to the seat looking up at Abigail. ‘I do remember this train!’ she exclaimed.
Abigail smiled to herself, wondering just how much Emily did remember of her little past.
It was midday when they arrived at the village station and, as usual, Abigail felt her heart rate gather. Even though being here the other day with Eileen and Carrie had softened her feelings of anxiety, those feelings persisted. Not just about her school days, but about all the years without Dada, all the years when Edna had been so cruel. How had she survived that time? Abigail asked herself. It had been a long nightmare and although she’d managed to wake up and break out, the memories still lingered. And they wouldn’t ever go. She was sure of it. Childhood memories must be like that, she thought. Indelible and unforgettable despite all the good things which may follow.
And added to all that, today was market day, the familiar sights and sounds of the street traders shouting their wares hitting Abigail hard. It was as if it was yesterday. Was that Edna screeching from the trap? Fresh vegetables, new laid eggs, honey … best you can buy! But Edna would not be doing that today. She had a more important appointment with the solicitors.
They crossed the road, Abigail holding Emily’s hand tightly, and Emily said, ‘What’s going on over there, Mummy? There are crowds of people.’
‘Yes, because it’s market day. There are all sorts of things to buy, things to eat and some little craft stalls that sell homemade things, jewellery and purses and soft toys.’
‘Oh – can we go there after we’ve had lunch?’ Emily asked eagerly. ‘I’ve never been to a market before.’
‘If you like, later on,’ Abigail said. ‘But we’re going to meet Aunt Edna at the café first, aren’t we, like I told you. You said you thought you remembered Aunt Edna.’
‘I think I do,’ Emily said.
‘And then we’ve got to go that office for me to sign things and after that we’ll look around the market. All right?’
‘All right,’ Emily said, then, ‘Where’s the café?’
‘Over there, look,’ Abigail said, pointing. ‘And we’re just about to pass the school I went to, where I learned everything that you are learning at yours, Emily. And see, the children are just coming out into the playground because it’s dinner time.’
‘Yes, it’ll be dinner time at ours now, as well,’ Emily said, glancing back over her shoulder to keep looking as they went past. ‘Did you like it at your school, Mummy?’
‘Some of the time,’ Abigail replied. ‘Here’s the café. And I expect Aunt Edna will be here waiting for us.’ Abigail felt a warm rush of pleasure at her own words because she was going to love reintroducing her daughter to her aunt. And judging by recent events, Edna would surely be pleased to meet ‘it’ again.
The place was always crowded on market day, but as soon as they entered they saw Edna sitting at a table in the far corner. She immediately stood up and waved.
‘Oh hello,’ she said as they came towards her. ‘Glad you made it. Was the train crowded?’ She pulled out two chairs for them, then sat opposite and stared at Emily.
And for a moment, not a word was spoken. ‘So, this is … this is Emily,’ Edna said slowly, ‘and she is a replica of you, Abigail – apart from the dark ringlets.’
Abigail nodded slowly. ‘Yes, this is my daughter, Aunt. Do you remember Aunt Edna, Emily?’
Emily, straight-faced, murmured, ‘I think I do.’ Then, holding out her hand, she said gravely, ‘How do you do?’.
Abigail smiled inwardly. Emily would have heard Mrs Matthews say that on a number of occasions. Edna took Emily’s hand gently.
‘I am very well, thank you,’ she said. Then, briskly, ‘Shall I order us some lunch? What would you like, Emily?’
Still finding it hard to grasp this situation – and above all her aunt’s newfound attitude – Abigail hoped Emily would ask for something simple – like bread or cheese.
‘I would like some chips, please,’ Emily said.
After they’d eaten their lunch, it was time to leave for the two-thirty appointment. And as they stood up, Edna said, ‘You are wearing a very pretty dress, Emily, but I seem to remember that you used to carry a little doll around in your pocket.’
Abigail felt yet another pang of astonishmen
t! Fancy her aunt remembering that!
‘Oh, I don’t do that anymore,’ Emily said. ‘It would be very childish. Though I still have dolly but Mummy had to make her a new outfit because the other one had worn out.’
They left the café and began to walk slowly along the High Street towards the solicitors’ office. Emily tugged her mother’s arm.
‘Can I go to the market now, Mummy? I’ve got some of my pocket money here in my purse, and I would like to buy Mrs Gladys a little present.’
‘Good idea,’ Abigail said at once. ‘I shouldn’t think the appointment will be a very long one, and afterwards I will come and find you, Emily. Don’t wander off – just stay around the stalls.’
‘Apparently,’ Edna said, ‘there’s sometimes a Punch and Judy show when the kids come out at three-fifteen. Quite a new innovation for the village but I’m told they love it.’
Abigail raised her eyes. There’d been nothing as exciting as a Punch and Judy show in her day.
As hoped, the meeting was a fairly short one, with the solicitor going over everything while his secretary placed all the relevant papers on the desk for Abigail and Edna to countersign each document.
‘I think Miss Edna Wilson has come to a very sensible decision,’ Mr Gibbons declared. ‘Now she can be relieved of all the responsibility she’s had over the years, and the new tenants are a very respectable, hardworking couple.’ He smiled broadly. ‘And I’m sure you will agree – Miss Abigail Wilson – that the financial arrangements are more than acceptable.’ He leaned back in his chair. ‘So there you are. Life seems quite full of good things doesn’t it,’ he said. ‘And with the enormous success of the D-Day landings a couple of weeks ago, at last we’ve got the Huns on the run. Praise be to Almighty God! The month of June has been crowned with glory!’
They left the office, and standing outside for a second, Edna said, ‘I expect you’d rather get the next train home rather than come to Coopers for a cup of tea?’
‘I think so, Aunt,’ Abigail said, ‘because I don’t want to be too late arriving in Bristol.’ Abigail put her hands on her aunt’s shoulders and kissed her very briefly on the cheek. ‘You have my address now, Aunt,’ she said, ‘so will you promise to let me know where you are and how you are getting on? Because I am going to be very, very interested in knowing where you are and how your plans work out.’
For the first time in her life, Edna returned her niece’s kiss. ‘I promise, Abigail,’ she said. ‘We mustn’t lose touch a second time.’
‘Shall we look for Emily for you to say goodbye?’ Abigail said, and Edna hesitated.
‘No, there’s not really time because I want to speak to Mr and Mrs Moor as soon as they get back from the market.’ Edna smiled. ‘They can’t wait to move into Coopers.’
Finally, the two parted company and Abigail made her way over to the large area where all the stalls were. The Punch and Judy booth at the far side was just being set up, and she could see Emily already sitting cross-legged with lines of other children, all waiting for the performance to begin.
Seeing her mother approach, Emily stood up quickly. ‘Oh – can I stay and watch this before we leave? Please, Mummy!’ Then frowning, she asked, ‘Where’s Aunt Edna?’
‘She had to go back to Coopers,’ Abigail said. ‘And of course, you can stay and watch. There’s a bit of time before our train. But look, I’d like to go for a little walk, so I’ll come back for you perhaps in half an hour? Don’t move from here. Promise?’
‘Promise,’ Emily said. Well satisfied with this arrangement, Emily sat down again just as Mr Punch threw back his curtain. And with her heart full of contentment at the way life seemed to be turning out, Abigail began to walk slowly along the street, recapturing all the moments she’d gone this way before. Yes, there were huge gaps in her life and nothing could change that but, as Mrs Matthews had said more than once, what can’t be helped, can’t be helped and that’s all there is to it.
The afternoon sun was warm on her face as Abigail strolled along, her gaze taking in all the familiar twists and turns of the country road. And then there it was. Mulberry Court. Perhaps the reason she was treading this path today although she hadn’t meant to. And if Emily hadn’t wanted to see the Punch and Judy show they’d have been on their way to the station by now.
Abigail didn’t increase her step, she just walked slowly, thoughtfully, towards the beautiful building. The wide frontage was still hosted by those magnificent trees and the two stone pillars still supported the elegant gate. The posh family who’d owned it before the Jordans used to hold summer garden parties, and Abigail had often wondered what it must be like to be served tea on that immaculate lawn by uniformed maids.
Now she was here, and for a few moments time stood still. A long time ago this had been Luke’s home and Abigail had never forgotten – how could she ever forget – the times she had spent there with him, just the two of them.
Her thoughts making her feel dizzy with longing, Abigail turned to walk away when suddenly she heard, ‘Hello? Did you want something?’
The voice. That voice! It couldn’t be anyone else, but, ‘No – sorry, I was just stopping to look … to admire the roses.’ Her voice trailed off because she was sounding silly.
‘Wait. Don’t go.’
Then suddenly, completing her dream, Luke Jordan opened the gate and slowly, carefully, came over to join her. He was looking down at her with an expression of such utter disbelief that any moment Abigail knew she was going to faint.
But Abigail had never fainted. ‘Luke?’ she whispered in disbelief. ‘Luke?’
No, surely not, because this wasn’t the Luke she’d held in her heart and in her memory for so long. He had grown into a tall, dark-haired man with an elegant turn of head, just like she had always imagined he would become, but he looked so much older than he was. Older and more tired, the rings beneath those black eyes making him appear drawn.
And worst of all, he was supporting himself on two crutches.
Coming forward awkwardly, he put one crutch under his arm then opened the gate for Abigail to come in. And without another word, they went together towards the wide bench outside the entrance door and sat down, Abigail afraid to get too close in case she hurt him in some way.
‘Abigail.’ He smiled crookedly. ‘So, you have obviously been allowed out for the afternoon.’
She nodded. ‘Oh yes, and for many other afternoons as well. I promised you I’d escape, didn’t I, Luke?’
For a moment it didn’t seem as if he was able to speak. ‘And … has life been good to you, Abigail? I mean, are you happy?’ He hesitated. ‘Are you still living down there?’
‘No. I haven’t lived with my aunt for a long time.’
He leaned forward, obviously mystified. ‘So, what happened?’
She waited before answering. ‘It’s a very long story, Luke – far too long to go into now. But, yes – life did change, dramatically. And I am happy, most of the time.’
He nodded. ‘So where are you living now?’
‘In Bristol,’ Abigail replied. ‘I’ve been there for the last five years.’
Now he was thoroughly taken aback. ‘What? Do you mean you were there while the city was being bombed?’
‘Yes. But as you can see, I came to no harm. And I have been blessed by having met good friends. Luke – do you remember you telling me that I would have friends one day? And you were right. I think my friends were sent straight from God.’
He looked away. ‘Of course you would find friends, Abigail. Because you are the kind of friend others would want to be with.’
Abigail was suddenly tired of this. She’d often wondered what she and Luke would have to say to each other if they ever met again, and now it was all about her!
She touched his arm hesitantly. ‘What have you done to yourself, Luke?’ she said quietly, glancing at the crutches.
That half-smile again. ‘I didn’t actually do anything,’ he said quietly, ‘other tha
n not spot the ME109 on my tail. I was too busy congratulating myself on having shot down two of their Junkers.’
At last, and without hesitation Abigail clutched his arm, realisation hitting her like a blow. ‘You were in the RAF, Luke. Flying … flying aeroplanes in combat?’
‘Yep,’ he said casually. ‘And although none of us had had much training I was actually getting better at it. In the beginning we were shown the rudiments plus a short time to practise, then it was, “Off you go, chaps”.’ He couldn’t help smiling. ‘Suddenly, we novices found ourselves in the middle of a war and although we were mostly terrified, the bond which immediately formed between us gave us strength – and a certain amount of youthful courage.’
Abigail knew all about the strength gained by having close comrades.
He waited a long moment and Abigail didn’t interrupt. All she wanted to do was to put her arms right around him and hold him close.
‘The very worst part of the whole thing was waiting for everyone to return after a mission,’ he went on. ‘Waiting to learn we’d lost another friend.’
There was a lump in Abigail’s throat as she listened. She could understand his words, remembering those dog fights they’d all witnessed in the skies above Bristol. Had Luke been part of that?
‘So – you were shot down?’ she whispered, hating to hear herself say that. ‘You … crashed?’
‘Well, sort of,’ he said. ‘I jumped out because my plane was on fire. My parachute did open, and I floated to the ground but part of me, unfortunately, was in flames. At least I came down well into our side of the Channel, so I was picked up a few hours later. And spent the rest of my call-up in hospital,’ he added.
Abigail felt overcome at hearing what Luke had gone through. So young, so brave – as all his friends had been – trying to protect those at home. She leaned against his shoulder, and he automatically rested his head on hers.
After a moment’s silence Abigail asked, ‘Are you here at Mulberry Court for respite?’ Her voice was muffled.
