by Kitty Neale
‘I don’t know.’
‘Well, my dear, unless we are sure, we shouldn’t listen. The devil is wily and comes in many guises to whisper in our ears.’
Ellen couldn’t believe the woman at the underground station had been the devil in disguise. ‘Thank you for talking to me,’ she said, and before the lady could protest Ellen walked off and out of the door. She was still confused and felt it was unfair that the woman, Christian or not, should be condemned just for trying to help her mother.
Going to church hadn’t helped. If anything it had turned her away from religion again.
Gradually time passed, and though Ellen still wished Billy hadn’t gone back to Hampshire, things were changing around her. To start with, her mother had found a job, and then, in August, came the long-awaited news that the war was officially over.
Once again, as on VE day, there was dancing in the streets, Londoners out in force, but even as Ellen joined in she hadn’t been able to help wondering how it was being celebrated in Hampshire. Was Billy dancing with Sheila? Were they a couple now?
Lucy and her family didn’t come back to London. Instead a new family moved in next door. They had two very noisy young children who played with a ball in the garden, and when it flew over the wall it wreaked havoc on the flowers that had survived the thinning out. Those still in bloom managed to cheer Ellen up as she regularly dead-headed them, the marigolds giving the best display, but as it was now September the aquilegia was straggly.
Working in the garden at least gave Ellen a chance to get away from the awful atmosphere indoors. Her dad was depressed and morose now that her mother had started full-time work. Ellen knew he was in constant pain and her heart went out to him, but he was no longer the father she knew, one who loved to laugh and joke; yet, as he had once been so active, it was no wonder he was moody.
Her mother now worked in a shop near to Ellen’s and they were walking home together one evening when Ellen was snapped out of her reverie by a tug on her arm.
‘Ellen, get a move on. When we get home I’ve got dinner to cook and then a stack of ironing to do.’
‘I’ll do the ironing,’ Ellen offered as she picked up her pace.
‘You’re a good girl, but it’s about time you made some friends. You should be with girls of your own age instead of stuck indoors with us every evening.’
‘The only women who come into the shop are housewives and all they do is moan about the continued shortage of food. I wish I’d found a job in a flower shop.’
‘What about your old school friends?’
‘I haven’t seen any of them for ages. Like Lucy, they’ve probably moved away and haven’t come back.’
‘Maybe you should go to that Baptist church again. You might meet some nice girls there.’
‘I did go, I tried, but no, Mum, it isn’t for me.’
‘Watcha,’ a voice said.
Ellen looked around, smiling when she saw Percy. He still worked in the same factory and he too was on his way home.
‘Hello, Percy.’
‘How’s work?’ Hilda said. ‘I suppose the production line has changed now the war’s over.’
‘Yes, it has. To be honest, I’d love a job working outdoors.’
‘I thought you liked it in the factory,’ said Hilda, surprised.
‘I did at first. I felt I was doing something for the war effort, but it’s different now.’
‘I feel the same. I hate being cooped up in the grocery shop all day.’
‘Ellen, it isn’t a lot of fun in the ironmonger’s and I hate the stink of paraffin, but you don’t hear me complaining all the time.’
With Percy walking along beside them it was the ideal opportunity to ask and Ellen changed the subject. ‘Has your mum heard from Billy again?’
‘She got a letter this morning.’
‘What did he have to say?’
‘You know Billy, it was mostly about horses.’
‘Did…did he mention Sheila? She was my friend when we lived there.’
‘No, I don’t think so, but I only gave the letter a quick scan before I left for work.’
‘I was just telling Ellen that she should make new friends,’ said Hilda. ‘Any ideas, Percy?’
‘Sorry, I don’t know any girls. I suppose she could come to the pictures with me tonight. I’m going to see Michael Redgrave and John Mills in The Way to the Stars.’
‘What’s it about?’ Ellen asked.
‘Life on a bomber base during the Battle of Britain.’
‘No, thanks, the war’s over and I don’t want to be reminded of it.’
‘I suppose we could go to the Odeon. They’re showing an Old Mother Riley film.’
‘No, Percy, I don’t think either film is suitable for a fourteen-year-old.’
From the expression on her mother’s face, Ellen knew it was pointless to argue, and, anyway, she really didn’t fancy either film.
‘Maybe some other time,’ Percy offered.
‘We’ll see,’ her mother said darkly and when they arrived home she ushered Ellen indoors, closing the door firmly behind them. ‘I think Percy has got his eye on you, but you’re still too young to be going out with boys.’
‘Of course he hasn’t,’ Ellen protested, but then the thought was taken from her mind as they walked into the living room to see they had a visitor.
‘Gertie,’ she cried, delighted to see her.
When Gertie had first arrived she couldn’t believe the change she saw in Doug. He looked worn down, his back bent with pain, and older than his years. Now she was seeing a change in Ellen too, but a pleasant one, and said, ‘Hello, my dear, and look at you, all grown up now.’
‘Hello, Gertie,’ Hilda said as she flopped onto a chair. ‘It’s nice to see you, but I wouldn’t call Ellen grown up. She isn’t even fifteen yet.’
‘You look tired,’ Gertie said and meant it. Hilda looked awful, with dark rings around her eyes.
‘I must admit me feet are throbbing, but as I’ve been on them all day, it isn’t surprising.’
‘Doug told me that you’re working now.’
‘Yeah, in a shop. How long have you been here, Gertie?’
‘I only arrived about ten minutes ago.’
‘Ellen, I can see your father hasn’t offered Gertie anything, so make a pot of tea.’
‘I did offer,’ Doug protested.
‘Yes, he did,’ nodded Gertie. ‘But knowing you’d be home soon I said I’d wait.’
‘I’ll do it,’ Doug said. ‘You two have been at work all day and making tea is all I’m fit for now.’
Gertie watched sadly as he shuffled to the kitchen.
‘Hilda, it’s awful to see him like this. Can’t anything be done?’
‘No, the damage is irreparable, but some days are better than others.’
‘He was so active and must hate it, along with the fact that you have to be the breadwinner now.’
‘I’m not too happy about it either,’ Hilda said bitterly. ‘He went before the board again, and even in that state they didn’t increase his pension.’
‘What? But that’s dreadful! He should appeal.’
‘There’s no point. Knowing Doug he didn’t make a fuss so it’s down to him. He prefers to think he’ll improve and will be able to work again.’
‘Is that likely to happen?’
‘I don’t know, and even if it does it’d have to be some sort of light job where he can sit all day. Anyway, enough about us,’ Hilda said dismissively. ‘I haven’t seen you for ages so tell me what you’ve been up to since you’ve left the ATS.’
‘I haven’t been doing anything really. I’m in a rented house in Surrey and just waiting for the sale of my father’s house to go through.’
‘What? You’ve sold it already?’
‘Yes, and thank goodness for that. I’m just here for a few days to sign papers and finalise things.’
‘What will you do after that?’
‘I’m n
ot sure yet, but probably buy a place of my own.’
‘Gertie, surely you’re not going to bury yourself on a smallholding again?’
‘No, and, anyway, I don’t think Maureen would be keen on the idea.’
Hilda’s eyebrows lifted. ‘Maureen?’
Gertie glanced at Ellen, then said, ‘Yes, my friend.’
‘Are you happy?’
‘I’m ecstatic.’
‘Ellen, give me a hand to carry these cups through,’ Doug called.
‘I’m glad you’ve met someone,’ Hilda said as soon as her daughter was out of earshot. ‘I’m pleased for you.’
‘Thanks, Hilda. Now tell me, I didn’t get a chance to visit you while you were in Veronica’s cottage, so how did you find it living there?’
‘I loved it, and though you may not believe it, I loved Hampshire too.’
‘What, a London girl preferring life in the country? You hated it in Somerset.’
‘Your place was too isolated, but the cottage was nice and in a small village. I didn’t want to come back to London, and as usual it’s brought me nothing but bad luck.’
‘What do you mean? What bad luck?’
‘You’ve seen Doug. We came back because he insisted he’d be able to find a job here, but soon after his back got worse. I live in dread of what’s going to happen next.’
‘Hilda, don’t be silly. You can’t blame a location for bad luck.’
‘Maybe, but we’re stuck here now so I’ll just have to make the best of it.’
‘The best of what?’ Ellen asked as she came in, a cup of tea in each hand.
‘This place,’ Hilda told her. ‘Now then, Gertie, I’m not sure what I can rustle up, but you’re welcome to stay for dinner.’
‘Thanks for the offer, but once I’ve had this tea I must be off.’
‘Don’t go yet,’ Ellen protested. ‘We haven’t seen you for ages.’
‘I know, but I’m in London for a few more days and I’ll come to see you again.’
‘Are you staying in your father’s house?’ Hilda asked.
‘No, I can’t stand the place. I’m in a small hotel.’
‘You can stay here if you like,’ Doug said as he held on to the arm of his chair before carefully sitting down. ‘It’s thanks to you that Hilda and Ellen were safe in Hampshire. You’ll always be welcome here, Gertie, but I’m afraid there’s only the sofa. It’s old, but it’s comfortable.’
Gertie was touched. She knew how Doug felt, his suspicions about her – ones that, though he didn’t know it, had been accurate enough. Of course, he had nothing to worry about now. She was happy with Maureen, and her feelings for Hilda had at last died. Gertie found she was now seeing Doug in a new light and realised her dislike of him had been down to jealousy. He was a good man, a good husband and father who had fought for his country only to end up on the scrapheap.
‘Thanks, Doug, it’s kind of you, but Maureen is staying in the hotel too.’
‘Maureen?’
‘A friend of mine.’
He smiled faintly. ‘Yeah, right, I get it.’
‘When the sale of the house is completed, will you both be staying in London?’ Hilda asked.
‘I’m not sure where we’ll be living yet, but it won’t be London. Like me, Maureen prefers the country.’
‘Me too,’ Doug said wistfully.
Gertie swallowed her tea. ‘I’d best be off, but maybe, if you don’t mind, I’ll bring Maureen to meet you next time.’
‘Yes, we’d like that, wouldn’t we, Doug?’
‘It’s fine with me.’
They said their goodbyes, Gertie thoughtful as she left. It had been awful to see them living like that: Doug in pain, Hilda looking worn down, and Ellen hating her job in a shop. She had to do something for them, to ease their burden, and as she was rather well off now it would be simple to write them a cheque. Yet, even as this thought crossed her mind, Gertie knew it wouldn’t work. However needy Doug and Hilda might be, they weren’t the sort of people who’d accept a handout.
The problem was still on her mind as Gertie neared the small hotel in Chelsea, and at last an inkling of an idea began to form. The war was over and it was time to move forward – time to start another new chapter in her life. If Doug, Hilda and Ellen could be a part of it, nothing would give her greater pleasure.
So far she and Maureen had idled around doing nothing, but the inactivity was already driving Gertie mad. She needed to do something, to find a new challenge, and the more she thought about it, the surer she was that this plan could work.
Chapter 31
Only a few days later, on Sunday morning, Gertie called again. Hilda opened the door to see a young woman behind her, a pretty, petite blonde who was the antithesis of Gertie. She looked a little nervous so, smiling, Hilda said, ‘It’s lovely to see you again, and your friend too. Come on in.’
‘Hilda, this is Maureen.’
‘Yes, I guessed that, and it’s nice to meet you.’
‘Hello,’ Maureen said shyly.
‘Doug, look who’s here,’ Hilda said as she led them into the living room.
Once again Maureen looked shy as she returned Doug’s greeting, her hand clinging to Gertie’s. Ellen looked puzzled so Hilda swiftly said, ‘Sit down, the pair of you’, then kicked herself for using that word. Yet it was true, they were a pair – but that was something she’d rather not explain to Ellen.
‘I don’t want to get told off again, so this time I’ll make a pot of tea straightaway.’
‘I’ll do it, Dad,’ Ellen offered.
‘No, it’s all right. It won’t kill me.’
‘You look a little better, Doug.’
‘I’m having a good day, Gertie,’ he said, back a little straighter as he left the room.
‘Has everything been finalised with your father’s house now?’ Hilda asked.
Gertie pulled a face. ‘No, the buyer dropped out and it all fell through. It’s going back on the market on Monday.’
‘What will you do now?’
‘There’s nothing we can do until I get another offer.’
‘We could still make plans for the business,’ said Maureen. ‘You know, cost it all out and see if it’d be profitable.’
Hilda’s brows shot up. Gertie had only mentioned buying a house.
‘What sort of business?’
‘It’s just an idea really, and I’m not even sure it would work. Maureen, you shouldn’t have said anything.’
‘But…but I thought…’
‘What’s all this about a business?’ Doug said as he came back into the room. ‘I couldn’t help overhearing. ’
‘All right, I’ll tell you,’ said Gertie. ‘I’ve seen in Surrey, and elsewhere, that nearly all the gardens have been dug up to grow vegetables.’
‘I had a go,’ Ellen said, ‘but the soil in our garden is useless. Percy planted some flower seeds though and we’ve had a nice display.’
‘Percy? Who’s Percy?’
‘He’s Mabel’s son and he’s as daft about gardening as Ellen,’ explained Hilda. ‘Now carry on telling us about this idea of yours.’
‘Well, now…’
‘Sorry to interrupt,’ Percy said, as if hearing his name had conjured him up, ‘but is it all right if I fill a bucket with water? The garden needs watering.’
‘Talk of the devil,’ Hilda said ruefully. ‘Gertie, this is Percy.’
‘Hello there. I hear you like gardening.’
‘I love it, not that we’ve got much of one.’
‘Where do you work, Percy?’
‘In an engineering factory, but I’d rather work outdoors.’
‘Gertie used to have a smallholding and you’d have loved it,’ Ellen told him.
‘Cor, did you?’ he said, sitting down and leaning forward eagerly. ‘What did you grow?’
‘Mostly fruit and vegetables.’
‘Nice, but I like flowers.’
‘Gertie, are you going to te
ll us about this idea of yours or not?’ Hilda asked impatiently.
‘Percy mentioning flowers leads me into it nicely,’ she said. ‘You see, that’s my idea. We’ve had so many years of austerity and I think that one day, in the not-too-distant future, people will want a bit of colour in their lives again. What I want to do is to open a plant nursery, to grow flowers, shrubs, trees, and offer them for sale.’
There was silence for a moment, but then Ellen exclaimed, ‘I think that’s a marvellous idea. I suppose you’ll be planting seedlings and, when they’re transplanted and a decent size, you’ll sell them.’
‘Well, that’s more or less it.’
‘I don’t see how it’d work,’ Hilda said. ‘Why would people buy plants from you? Surely they’d grow their own?’
‘A lot of flowers are easy to grow from seed, simple things like marigolds and other cottage garden plants, but others are difficult. There are flowering shrubs, specimen shrubs, rose species, let alone plants that need to be started off under glass. I’d like to specialise in these and I think there’d be a demand.’
‘If you ask me, we need food, not flowers.’
‘We do now, but I’m talking about what people may want in the future.’
‘We grew marigolds, didn’t we, Ellen?’
‘Yes, Percy, you did,’ Hilda said answering for her daughter, ‘and didn’t you say they need watering?’
‘Yeah, right,’ he said, taking the hint. ‘I’ll get on with it.’
‘Do that,’ Hilda snapped.
Unperturbed, Percy turned to Gertie.
‘It was nice to meet you, and good luck with the nursery. If…if you’re thinking of taking anyone on, I’d love a job.’
‘I’m afraid it’s nowhere near that stage yet, but if I find I need staff I’ll bear you in mind.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, really.’
Percy smiled with delight and soon they heard the sound of running water from the kitchen.
‘He seems a nice lad,’ Gertie said as they heard the back door close.
‘Yes, he is,’ Doug agreed, ‘and you were a bit sharp with him, Hilda.’
‘I don’t like the way he looks at Ellen. I think he’s got his eye on her.’
‘She could do worse.’
