Lost Angel

by Kitty Neale

  ‘Doug,’ Hilda said, appalled. ‘She’s only fourteen.’

  ‘Coming up fifteen.’

  ‘That’s still too young.’

  ‘You weren’t much older when we first met.’

  ‘I was seventeen!’

  ‘Mum, there’s no need to argue over this,’ Ellen placated. ‘I’m not interested in Percy.’ ‘I should think not.’

  Ellen smiled at Gertie. ‘It was nice of you to say you’d think about offering him a job though, and I wouldn’t mind one too.’

  ‘Goodness, slow down. As I said it’s only an idea so far and it might not go any further than that.’

  ‘But, Gertie, I thought…’ said Maureen.

  ‘That’s enough,’ Gertie snapped, but, as Maureen then looked tearful, she threw an arm around her. ‘Now then, don’t get upset. I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just that I don’t want to jump the gun.’

  There was something going on, Hilda was sure of it, but Gertie obviously didn’t want Maureen to talk about it. Ellen was watching them, looking puzzled again, so to divert her attention, Hilda said: ‘Ellen, even if Gertie gets this place up and running you wouldn’t be able to work there. It won’t be in London.’

  ‘You’re right,’ Gertie said, removing her arm from around Maureen, ‘and, anyway, until I get another buyer for my father’s house, my idea will have to be put on the backburner. I have money he left me, and some from the smallholding, but as my plans are long term, it won’t be enough.’

  ‘That’s a shame,’ Doug said. ‘It sounds like a good idea and it could work, though I reckon you’d have to offer more than just plants to make a decent profit.’

  ‘I’ve looked at the figures and know it’ll take time to establish and to build up a good supply of plant stock, so any ideas would be welcome, Doug.’

  Doug looked thoughtful as he ran a hand around his chin. ‘How about selling things like garden tools?’

  ‘What a marvellous idea,’ Gertie said.

  ‘Yes, and watering cans, hose pipes, cane supports, fertiliser,’ Ellen suggested eagerly. ‘Oh, there are loads of things, even gardening books.’

  ‘Goodness, what a couple of entrepreneurs,’ said Gertie. ‘Thank you and it’s certainly something I’ll consider.’

  ‘Do you want another cup of tea?’ Hilda asked.

  ‘No, thanks, and we really must go now. We’re going back to Surrey and with no idea how long it’ll take to find another buyer for my father’s house, it could be some time before we’re back in London.’

  Hilda showed Gertie and Maureen out, chatting for a few minutes on the doorstep before waving goodbye, but when she returned to the living room it was to stand horrified, unable to believe her ears.

  ‘Yeah, well, I suppose you’re old enough to know now,’ Doug was saying. ‘You see, Gertie is different, and she fancies women instead of men.’

  ‘Doug!’ Hilda yelled. ‘Shut up!’

  ‘It’s all right, Mum,’ said Ellen. ‘I thought there was something funny about Gertie and Maureen and I’m glad Dad told me.’

  Hilda glared at Doug, fuming. ‘Well, I’m not!’

  ‘Ellen saw them holding hands, saw Gertie’s affection for Maureen, and it confused her. What was I supposed to do? Lie to her?’ Doug snapped.

  ‘I’m glad you told me the truth, Dad, but I still don’t understand. I mean, what is Gertie? Is she some sort of half-woman, half-man?’

  ‘It’s a bit difficult to explain. Gertie’s got the body of a woman, but…well, I suppose, the feelings of a man.’

  ‘But if she’s a woman, why can’t she behave like a woman? It seemed funny, odd to see her cuddling Maureen, and now I know why it…it makes me feel uncomfortable. I mean, she cuddles me too.’

  ‘That isn’t the same,’ Hilda snapped. ‘Gertie would never look at you in that way.’

  ‘I don’t know, Mum. I…I’m not sure how I feel about her now.’

  ‘Now you listen to me, my girl. Any affection Gertie has shown is because she sees us as her family, me as a sister and you as her niece.’

  ‘I felt the same way about her, but I don’t think I can now.’

  ‘Gertie is still the same person and just because you know about her sexual preferences now, it shouldn’t change the way you feel about her. Oh, what am I saying, this is madness! You’re too young to understand, too young to be hearing things like this!’

  Ellen jumped to her feet and, before Hilda could stop her, she ran outside. Still fuming, Hilda turned on Doug.

  ‘See what you’ve done!’

  ‘All right, I’m sorry. You’re right. I should have kept me mouth shut.’

  ‘It’s a bit late for that now! It’s hard enough for adults to accept people like Gertie, yet you expect a fourteen-year-old to understand! You must be out of your tiny mind!’

  Unaware of the row going on between Hilda and Doug as they made their way home, Maureen said, ‘You were right, Gertie. They did accept us.’

  ‘It’s a shame that there aren’t more people around like Hilda and Doug.’

  ‘We have to be so careful, and it’s a wonder nobody found out about us when we were in the ATS.’

  ‘It’s more of a wonder that we found each other and even got together. Let’s face it, you did play hard to get.’

  ‘I know, Gertie, but to be honest I was nervous. I hated the way I felt, tried to fight it, but every time I saw you it became more and more impossible.’

  ‘Is that why you went out with a couple of the men?’

  ‘Yes, but as I’ve told you before, I’d been dating men since I was sixteen. It never worked. I just couldn’t feel anything for them, hated their kisses, and gained a reputation as being frigid.’

  ‘It still worries me that I’m the first woman you’ve been with. You won’t leave me, will you?’

  ‘Gertie, you know how I feel about you and there’ll never be anyone else.’

  ‘What about your family? You must miss them.’

  ‘How many times have I got to tell you? I went to boarding school, forced to stay there during the holidays while my parents travelled. It meant we were never that close and, since meeting you, for the first time in my life I feel truly happy.’

  ‘I am too, very happy – well, except for seeing the dire straits Hilda and Doug are in. I wish I could just write them a cheque, but they’d never accept it.’

  ‘When are you going to tell them?’

  ‘It could be some time before the agents find another buyer for my father’s house, and even then we’ve got to search for the perfect place. I don’t want to raise their hopes too soon, but fingers crossed it doesn’t take too long.’

  ‘You think a lot of them, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, they’re like my family and one day I hope you see them as your family too.’

  Maureen nodded, but seeing them as family or not, there was only so much she’d agree to and one part of Gertie’s plan had put her back up. She’d bide her time for now – wait until Gertie had the money to go ahead with her plans – then she’d put her foot down.

  Chapter 32

  Ellen was chuffed. She had made friends with a girl who lived at the end of the street, and, though Janet was older at seventeen, they got on really well. The only fly in the ointment was that Janet had a lot more freedom than her and went dancing every Saturday night with some of her other mates.

  Still, Ellen thought, at least she got out of the house a few evenings a week, if only to sit in Janet’s. The atmosphere in her own home was so awful now that she was glad to escape. Her parents bickered constantly, her mother snappy and her father nothing like the laughing and playful man he’d once been.

  ‘Mum, I’m going along to Janet’s house.’

  ‘I’m not sure I want you seeing that girl. Her mother’s nothing but a tart.’

  ‘You can’t blame Janet for that.’

  ‘Maybe not, but the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.’

  ‘Janet’s training to be
a hairdresser, and she hates it that her mother drinks. When she’s fully qualified and can afford it, she’s going to leave home.’

  ‘What happened to her father?’

  ‘Janet said he walked out when she was four and she hasn’t seen him since.’

  ‘Hilda, if you ask me it sounds like the girl’s had a rotten time of it,’ said Doug. ‘Go on, Ellen, see your friend, but we want you home by nine thirty.’

  ‘Can’t I stay out till ten?’

  ‘You heard your father. Nine thirty and no later.’

  Ellen knew that if her mum found out that Janet was going to show her how to put make-up on, she’d go potty. It was October and she’d be fifteen next month, but her mum still treated her like a kid and had refused to talk about Gertie again. Ellen still didn’t understand, and now every time she thought about Gertie and Maureen, about them kissing each other like her mum and dad kissed, she felt sort of sick.

  Now that she knew Janet better, Ellen had decided to talk to her about it. Janet was different, worldly somehow, and a complete contrast to Lucy. Somehow Ellen felt that religion wasn’t a subject that would interest her, but maybe they could talk about the runes too, and that woman who’d had the vision.

  Janet greeted her with a smile. ‘Mum’s out so we’ve got the place to ourselves. She’ll probably roll home drunk as usual.’

  Janet’s mum was a brassy, loud-mouthed blonde, so Ellen was relieved that she wasn’t in. They settled in the kitchen and as Janet got out her make-up Ellen asked, ‘Do you know anything about rune stones and fortune tellers?’

  ‘Not really, but my mum once went to a woman who read tarot cards.’

  ‘What did she tell her?’

  ‘She wasn’t told much, nothing concrete, and said it was a waste of money. Booze is more important to my mum so she only went the once. Live for the day, that’s what I say, and I don’t see the point of worrying about the future.’

  It was obviously a closed subject and Ellen hid her disappointment, saying, ‘I’m looking forward to learning how to put make-up on.’

  ‘Once you get the hang of it, it’s a doddle. I’ll show you how I apply mine first, and then you can have a go at copying me.’

  Ellen watched, amazed. All her mother had ever done was to apply a bit of powder and lipstick, though she didn’t even do that nowadays, whereas Janet was applying a stick-like, thick foundation that made the whole business look a lot more complicated. She wasn’t sure she liked the effect and thought Janet looked better without it, but, not wanting to offend her new friend, she said, ‘I didn’t know you used that stuff.’

  ‘Pan-stick. Yeah, well, I don’t during the day, but if I’m going out in the evening, say to a dance, I use it then because it covers up me spots. You’re lucky, you’ve got lovely skin and I don’t think you’ll need it. We’ll just concentrate on your eyes, lips – and how did you get your nails in that state?’

  ‘Gardening. I’ve been clearing the flowers and digging over the soil.’

  ‘When did you get interested in gardening of all things?’

  ‘During the Blitz my mum took me to live with her friend, Gertie, on her smallholding in Somerset. I learned a lot from her and she was really good to me. I…I liked her a lot, but now…now that I know what she’s like…’ Ellen trailed off.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Ellen hesitated. She wanted to confide in Janet, ask her opinion and now, finally, plucked up the courage. ‘A short while ago, I found out that Gertie…well…she doesn’t like men. She…she prefers women.’

  ‘Oh, she’s a lesbian.’

  ‘Is that what women like her are called?’

  ‘Don’t you know anything? There’s men the same, you know, those who prefer their own kind.’

  ‘What!’

  ‘They’re called queers, homosexuals.’ ‘I…I didn’t know. How did you find out about them?’

  ‘With a mother like mine there ain’t much I don’t know. She’s talked to me like I’m an adult since I was a kid.’

  ‘My mum has never told me anything and I had to find out about the facts of life from a friend. It was my dad who told me about Gertie, and…and it makes me feel a bit sick.’

  ‘Has she done anything to hurt you?’

  ‘No, I told you, she’s been very good to me, and to my mother.’

  ‘So what’s all the fuss about? Each to their own, that’s what I say. There’s worse around than her and, believe me, I should know.’

  ‘Worse. What do you mean?’

  ‘Grow up, Ellen. What about rapists, murderers, mothers who neglect their kids and pigs who abuse them?’ Janet said angrily. ‘Gertie and her type aren’t hurting anyone, aren’t abusing them, unlike…unlike one of my so-called uncles.’

  ‘Your uncle? Why, what did he do?’

  ‘I was ten, just a kid, and I’d had a succession of uncles when one of them – my mum’s latest – got into my bed one night.’

  ‘At that age, I used to climb in with my mum and dad for a cuddle.’

  ‘Jesus!’ Janet exclaimed. ‘It wasn’t like that. Bloody hell, do I have to spell it out? He didn’t climb in for a cuddle, he…he raped me.’

  ‘Oh, Janet, no!’

  ‘Oh, Ellen, yes…and from that night on, I never felt like a kid again.’

  ‘What did your mum do when she found out?’

  ‘I didn’t tell her. He said he’d come back and kill us if I opened me mouth.’

  Ellen had hated thinking about Gertie, but it paled in comparison to this. She had wanted to be treated like a grown up, had wanted to learn about life, but not this…not about sick men who raped children.

  ‘Does…does your mum know about it now?’

  ‘Yeah, but I sort of sunk into myself at first. After that, when I was around eleven, I became an impossible kid, wild and out of control. Most of the time my mum was too pissed to notice, but one day she brought another bloke back to the house, drunk like her, and when he leered at me, I lost it. I went for him, grabbed a knife…’

  ‘Oh, Janet…’

  Janet’s laugh was derisive. ‘My mum soon sobered up then. She managed to stop me, and when the geezer left I told her why I did it…what had happened when I was ten.’

  ‘What did she say?’

  ‘She was shocked, but other than never bringing blokes back to the house again, nothing much has changed. She’s still a piss artist, an alcoholic, and I’ll tell you something, Ellen. I hate booze and as long as I live I’ll never touch a drop of the stuff.’

  ‘I…don’t know what to say.’

  ‘I’ve shocked you. I don’t usually talk about it and you’d better keep what I’ve told you to yourself…or else,’ Janet warned.

  ‘I won’t say a word to anyone, honestly I won’t.’

  ‘You’d better not. As I said, I don’t usually talk about it, but you got me back up.’

  ‘Did I? How?’

  ‘You was going on about how good Gertie was to you, how you really liked her, but now, just because she’s a lesbian, it sounds like you’ve turned against her. I wish I’d had someone around like her when I was a kid, someone who’d have taken me in and got me away from here.’

  ‘Weren’t you evacuated?’

  ‘Don’t make me laugh. My mum needs someone to look after her, to put her to bed when she staggers home drunk and to clear up her mess. No, she didn’t have me evacuated, ‘cos without me, she’d be lost.’

  ‘No wonder you want to leave home.’

  ‘And as soon as I’m earning enough, I will.’

  ‘Janet, I’m sorry.’

  ‘It’s me who should be sorry. I keep forgetting that you’re just a kid and so I should’ve kept me mouth shut.’

  ‘Now you sound like my mother. I’m not a kid. I’m nearly fifteen.’

  ‘Compared to me at fifteen you’re just a baby. Now, don’t get me wrong, I ain’t saying there’s anything wrong with that. In fact, I wish I’d been so innocent at your age. To be honest
, I’m a bit jealous. You’ve got a mum and dad who care about you…who look out for you, which is more than you can say for me. All my mum cares about is where her next drink is coming from and I have to hide most of me wages or she’d leave me without a penny.’

  Ellen lowered her eyes. Yes, compared to Janet, she was lucky and realised that now. Janet was right about Gertie too. She had been prepared to turn her back on her, had even decided to refuse to see her when she and Maureen came to London again. Now though, she’d welcome them with open arms.

  Hilda glanced at the clock.

  ‘Ellen should be home soon, and I still don’t like her seeing that girl. Janet may be all right, but I’ve heard that her mother’s on the game.’

  ‘I doubt that. You’ve seen her and I don’t think many men would touch her with a barge pole.’

  Yes, Hilda thought, she’d seen Janet’s mother. The woman always looked dreadful, her peroxide blonde hair always showing inches of black roots. She was skinny too, overly thin, her face thick with make-up that did nothing to hide the ravages of the life she led.

  ‘I just hope that Janet doesn’t lead Ellen astray.’

  ‘Ellen’s a good kid and I don’t think we need to worry,’ Doug insisted, then, changing the subject, he said, ‘I wonder if Gertie has found a buyer for that house yet.’

  ‘I don’t know, but if she has no doubt she’ll be back in London and we’ll find out.’

  ‘She ain’t a bad sort and I hope she makes a success of that plant nursery she was going on about.’

  ‘You’ve changed your tune.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Have you forgotten what you accused me of when you were on leave in Somerset?’

  ‘Bloody hell, typical woman with the memory of an elephant, yet a convenient one. You seem to have forgotten that I admitted I was out of order, and that I’ve been fine with Gertie since then.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, all right,’ Hilda snapped as she rose to her feet. ‘I’ll make our cocoa.’

  ‘You look tired. I’ll do it.’

  Hilda glanced in the mirror over the mantelpiece. Yes, she did look tired, her eyes dark-ringed and her face devoid of even a scrap of make-up. Yet, even if she could be bothered to wear it, there was no money for powder and lipstick now, and her voice was sharp as she said, ‘Yes, I look tired, but with the hours I put in, what do you expect?’