by Tania Crosse
‘Of course,’ Jimmy assured him defensively. ‘Protect her with me life, I will.’
‘Let’s hope it don’t come to that,’ Hillie caught Eva muttering under her breath.
‘And… have you see your dad yet?’ Gert dared to ask.
Hillie felt as if she’d been doused in icy water yet again. ‘Yes,’ she murmured, her throat closing up. ‘He’s… he’s forbidden me to see any of my family again,’ she blurted out before the strangling tears that welled up inside began to choke her.
‘What?’ everyone chorused in horror.
‘Well!’ Eva hitched up her ample bosom. ‘We’ll see about that!’
‘Oh, Mrs P, I know you mean well, but…’
‘It’s been a long day,’ Jimmy interrupted, trying to smooth things over for his new wife, ‘and I need to get Hillie home. Expect you’re knackered, eh, Hill?’
‘Yes, I am,’ she murmured, suddenly feeling so tired, she just wanted to hide herself away and curl up into a cocoon, cutting out all else.
‘I’ll come to the door with you,’ Gert announced.
‘See you all again soon!’
Gulping down her sadness, Hillie tried to put some brightness into her voice. All her life, she’d been in and out of Number Eight almost every day. She hadn’t really considered how much she’d miss that, and regret stuck in her throat. Of course, she could still come round whenever she wanted, but it wouldn’t be the same as living almost next-door. For a moment, it made her feel as if she’d lost not just one family, but two.
‘Well, I’ll see you at work tomorrow,’ Gert said, ushering her and Jimmy back along the hall. ‘As you’ve only been away a few days, let’s hope you won’t lose your jobs. And what about… you know what?’ she asked, dropping her voice so that Jimmy couldn’t hear.
Hillie felt her heart jump. What could she say? But she knew she had to say something. ‘OK,’ she whispered, praying Gert wouldn’t probe any further. She couldn’t tell her that she wasn’t sure. That she was dreading getting back to Jimmy’s bedsit and having to do ‘it’ again before they went to sleep. She gave Gert a quick hug and was relieved when Jimmy led her outside before Gert could ask any more probing questions.
When they finally arrived back at Jimmy’s digs, Hillie cowered in the damp, dingy hallway while the landlady scrutinised the marriage certificate Jimmy waved under her nose. But it wasn’t because of the woman’s sour expression, or because of what she’d be expected to do again once they were squeezed into the single bed. No. It was because, with her dad’s vicious words still ringing in her ears, Hillie’d had enough of nasty, belligerent people, and this mean-mouthed landlady was too much for her.
Finally, though, the tyrant was convinced and reluctantly allowed them up to Jimmy’s room. It was the end of February and so cold. Hillie could feel the dampness exuding from the walls. The smell of it got into her nostrils. At least her old home had been dry, and Hillie felt a twinge of regret. But this was her home now, until they could afford to move on.
‘Cor, pretty parky in here, ain’t it?’ Jimmy was rubbing his hands together. ‘Keep your coat on, love, till it warms up.’
Hillie stood, looking about the room she’d only seen briefly before, while Jimmy lit the gas fire and then disappeared with the kettle. There was a single bed with a chest of drawers beside it, an old wardrobe, an armchair with the horsehair stuffing hanging out and a rickety table that evidently served as Jimmy’s kitchen. And that was it.
‘Bathroom and lav’s just along the landing,’ Jimmy told her cheerfully as he came back in with the kettle filled with water. He lit the one gas ring and put the kettle on to boil. ‘Take a while, that. And then we’ll have a nice cuppa and I’ll put the hot-water bottles in the bed. Bought an extra one for you, I did,’ he grinned, and then, opening the window, brought in a bottle of milk that had evidently been sitting on the sill outside all the time they’d been away, to keep cool, Hillie guessed – even though it was almost cold enough to freeze in the room itself. ‘Damn birds’ve been at it,’ Jimmy complained as he pulled off the remains of the pecked silver top and sniffed at the contents. ‘Smells a little bit off, but I think it’s OK. Course, I wasn’t sure we’d be back so quick. You can have Ovaltine if you want. Might as well use up the milk before it goes off completely.’
‘That’d be nice, actually,’ Hillie replied, feigning a smile.
‘Your wish is my command, madam,’ Jimmy laughed, measuring milk into two chipped mugs before transferring it into a battered saucepan and swapping it for the kettle on the gas ring. ‘Why don’t you unpack while you’re waiting?’
Hillie nodded, sniffing back the dewdrop that the cold air had caused to form at the end of her nose. She could swear it was even colder in the room than it had been outside as she emptied her possessions onto the bed. Jimmy had as few clothes as she did, so there was plenty of room for her own things in the wardrobe and drawers.
‘Here you are, love.’ Jimmy handed her the steaming mug and then poured some water from the kettle into the dirty saucepan. ‘Have to wash up in the bowl there,’ he explained, ‘and then empty it down the bathroom sink. You’ll soon get used to it. I thought about tarting the place up a bit. But any money I spent’d be money we didn’t have for moving on. You OK with that?’
Hillie nodded, trying to hide her true feelings as she wrapped her cold hands round the hot mug. It wasn’t as if she was used to the Ritz, but the gas fire was totally inadequate for the room, and the fumes were rasping at her throat. The malty drink was soothing, though, and she drank it down quickly before it cooled down.
‘I’ll just use the lav and do my teeth,’ she said when she’d finished and, gathering what she needed, went along the landing. The toilet and bathroom were like iceboxes, and none too clean. The one thing Hillie vowed she would spend some money on was a china wash bowl, the next day if she had the chance. There was no way she could ever use the green-stained bath with the scum marks ingrained up its sides! A good stripped wash would have to suffice for the foreseeable future.
‘You get ready for bed, love,’ Jimmy said as she re-entered the grotty bedsit, which was the only way she could describe it. ‘I’ll be with you in a mo.’
Jimmy left the room, armed with his toothbrush. Hillie took the opportunity to change into her nightdress and slip into bed. She was sure it was damp, and gratefully cuddled one of the hot-water bottles Jimmy had thoughtfully put there, while she put the other one at her feet. At least she should have thawed out by the time Jimmy came back and she had to foray into that frightening world again.
‘Bit of a squash, ain’t it?’ he observed, wriggling in beside her a few minutes later. ‘I know this ain’t a good start, but I’ll make everything all right for you, you’ll see. Now let’s get to sleep. You must be knackered and it’s too cold for any hanky-panky. Anyway, I expect you’re a bit sore. They say it takes women a bit to get used to it, and I doesn’t want to hurt you. Take things gently we will, just like I said. So nighty-night, love. Sweet dreams. And don’t you worry about that bastard of a father of yours. I’m really sorry about what he said just now. But we’ll try and find a way to get round it, so don’t let him upset you.’
‘Mmm, yes. Thanks, Jimmy.’
Hillie turned towards him on her side, her head on his shoulder. Besides, it was the only way they could fit comfortably in the bed. She relished the feel of his warm body alongside hers, even if he was a bit bony. He was going to be a considerate husband. So perhaps the hanky-panky, as Jimmy called it, would come more easily with time, after all.
She lay in the darkness, listening to Jimmy’s steady breathing as sleep claimed him. Yes, he would make things right for her, she was sure. But would she ever manage to see her family again? The pain of it sliced into her heart. For in solving one problem for her, Jimmy, her husband, had only succeeded in creating another, far worse, one.
*
‘Golly, you dark horses!’ Belinda chuckled when they went into the offi
ce to see to the necessary administration their marriage would create – and whether they’d be able to hang onto their jobs.
They’d been severely reprimanded by the chap in charge of Personnel, but he admitted they were both good at their jobs and it would take time to train up replacements for them.
‘And of course, you’re Harold Hardwick’s daughter, aren’t you?’ he quizzed Hillie, looking up at her over the rim of his spectacles. ‘Hmm. Well, I’ll have to dock your pay, both of you, and if anything like this happens again, you’ll be out on your ears.’
They’d both thanked him profusely and, filled with relief, had stopped briefly at Belinda’s desk as they passed.
‘Well, you can understand why we had to keep it all a secret,’ Hillie grimaced. ‘One hint of it, and my dad would’ve locked me up for good. So the fewer people knew about it, the better.’
‘Of course, I understand,’ Belinda grinned. ‘Quite cloak and dagger stuff, eh? But… you must have a party to celebrate!’ she declared, jumping up and down with excitement.
‘Fat chance of that in our little room. And I can’t imagine the landlady would agree. You should see her. She’d make the Grim Reaper turn and run.’
‘I’ll ask my mum and dad, then. They love having parties. And what with our Rob courting your Gert… You could ask whoever you wanted.’
‘Oh, no, we couldn’t expect—’
‘I’ll have a word with them tonight. I’m sure they’ll be only too pleased.’
Hillie nailed a grateful smile on her face. It’d be so very kind of Belinda’s parents, but Hillie’s own family, her real family, wouldn’t be able to go, would they? And she felt the knife twist in the wound.
*
‘Well, I suppose it looks respectable enough,’ Charles Braithwaite frowned as the taxi drew up outside the substantial semi-detached Victorian villa in Parsons Green where Belinda’s family lived. ‘I want to speak with this Belinda’s parents before we leave you here, mind.’
‘I’m surprised you even considered letting her come at all!’ his wife complained. ‘Running away to get married, indeed.’
‘At least they were doing the honourable thing, Mum,’ Jessica protested. ‘And it’s not as if Hillie was pregnant or anything—’
‘Jessica!’ her mother cried, aghast.
‘Well, she wasn’t. And it was the only way to escape her father. He’s really violent, you know.’
‘Don’t we!’ Charles put in. ‘Despicable brute. Thank goodness we don’t need to have anything to do with him. I hate living on the same street, even if we are on opposite sides. As soon as I get my next promotion, we’ll be off somewhere better.’
Jessica rolled her eyes. She’d heard that one so many times before. The thing was, there wasn’t really anything he could be promoted to, unless it was some sort of director, and Jessica could see that would be a long time coming, if ever. It was a case of waiting for dead men’s shoes. Besides, her father wasn’t as posh as he thought he was, and that’s what it seemed to Jessica you needed to be. If only he’d let her go out to work so that she didn’t need the generous allowance he gave her. And if her mother would deign to run the house instead of employing Mrs Dawson to do everything, then perhaps there’d be enough in the pot for them to be able to move to a more salubrious neighbourhood. Not that Jessica wanted to. Most of the people living in the area were perfectly respectable even if they were poor, and now that Jessica was friendly with the Parkers, she didn’t want to move away.
Not that her parents approved, and they did everything to curtail her relationship with the chaotic family. It was only because Jessica had convinced her father that Belinda’s family were a cut above that he’d agreed to consider allowing her to attend the belated wedding celebration. He’d even brought home a box containing what was left of a dinner service that had been dropped at work and half of it smashed, saying that Jessica could give it to Hillie and Jimmy as a present. It was good enough for the likes of them, he’d sneered, but Jessica knew the newly married couple would be grateful.
‘Are you coming, dear, or are you going to wait in the taxi?’ Charles enquired of his wife now.
‘Of course, I’m coming! I want to make sure I approve of these people, too, before we leave Jessica in their care.’
Jessica set her jaw as they marched up the front path. The garden was neatly manicured, the borders colourful with spring flowers, which was a good sign. And when Belinda’s parents came to the door, they were so pleasant and, most importantly, well-spoken, that Charles gave his consent for Jessica to go inside. He would send a taxi to collect her at eleven o’clock precisely.
Jessica breathed a sigh of relief as she was shown inside. The party was in full swing, drinks and a finger buffet set out on a side table. Music was playing from a wind-up gramophone, not too loud, but loud enough to be heard above the hubbub of happy voices. People were bobbing around dancing, or spilling out through open French doors into the garden and the mild April evening.
‘Jessica!’ Hillie called across the room. ‘Oh, I’m so glad your dad let you come!’
‘Hillie, congratulations!’ Jessica called back, shouldering her way through as best she could with the heavy box. ‘Where can I put your present?’
‘Oh, goodness, that looks exciting! Thank you so much! Jimmy! Jimmy, come here, love. Let me introduce you to Jessica.’
‘Pleased to meet you. Hillie’s told me so much about you,’ Jimmy said, giving his most charming smile.
‘Likewise. But could you take this? Your present. It’s rather heavy.’
‘Of course,’ Jimmy replied, obliging at once. ‘Blimey, it is, ain’t it? Ta ever so.’
‘Jess, come this way,’ Hillie invited her, leading her across the room. ‘I’ve got a surprise for you.’
‘A surprise? For me?’
‘Yes, look.’
She took Jessica out into the garden, and jabbed her head across the lawn. Standing by an ornamental tree, drink in hand as he chatted to Gert, Eva and Stan, was a tall, broad man immaculately dressed. His skin was as dark as the material of his suit, but when he turned his head and saw Jessica, his face lit up with a huge smile.
‘Patrick!’ Jessica gasped, and then she turned to Hillie, her eyes bright as stars. ‘Oh, Hillie, what a wonderful surprise indeed! Thank you!’ And she skipped across the grass.
*
‘Oh, Jimmy, wasn’t that a fantastic evening!’ Hillie breathed as they turned towards the front door of the boarding house. Rob had dropped them home in his car, promising to bring all the presents people had given them the next morning. ‘I just wish Mum and the others had been able to come,’ she added wistfully.
‘Yeah. I wish I could’ve done something about that,’ Jimmy agreed. ‘But you know what Mrs P said. She’s determined to sort something out. But apart from that, it was as good a party as any proper wedding, and worth the wait. Belinda’s mum and dad are the best. To do that for us when we’re almost strangers.’
‘Yes, well, Gert’s no stranger to them,’ Hillie chuckled. ‘She and Rob are seeing each other during the week as well as at weekends, so things seem to be getting serious between them. So it was a good opportunity for Belinda’s parents to get to know Gert’s mum and dad better. I’m so glad they could come.’
‘And it was good of Kit to turn down his invitation and offer to baby- and granny-sit instead.’
‘Yes.’ In the dim light from the street lamp, Jimmy saw Hillie’s face fall as he put his key in the lock. ‘I wish he’d been able to come as well,’ she murmured. ‘He’s been as much part of my life as Gert. And after he sorted everything out for our trip to Gretna Green as well.’
‘Yeah, well, perhaps he felt he’d done enough.’
Jimmy stood back for Hillie to go in front of him as they went up the stairs, glad she couldn’t see his face. Hillie was his now, but he couldn’t help feel a twinge of jealousy. Kit could easily have taken Hillie first, and he’d noticed the way he looked at Hi
llie sometimes. He was even better looking than Jimmy, and his prospects were far better. As he unlocked the door to their horrible little room, it seemed even more horrible than ever to Jimmy after the evening at Belinda’s pleasant house. It broke his heart to bring Hillie back to such dire surroundings. She deserved so much better.
But he would provide a better home for her, and soon. There were things… things he could get involved in. Jackson, the bloke at the pub he’d run the odd errand for on occasion. Jimmy wasn’t entirely sure what the chap was up to, but he could maybe do more.
In that moment, Jimmy swore he’d make a decent home for Hillie if it was the last thing he ever did!
Chapter Thirteen
Gert glanced around as they sat down at one of the outside tables by the refreshment pavilion in Battersea Park. It was probably safe enough, but you never knew, and she had to make sure. It was a drizzly Saturday afternoon early in May, just over a couple of months since Hillie and Jimmy had got married. Once again, Jimmy was working for Mr Jackson, delivering a package this time. Sensing her friend needed some company, Gert had told Rob she couldn’t see him until the evening. Besides, she had something to give to Hillie as soon as possible, and the drizzle should mean less people in the park to notice them.
‘Here you are,’ she said quietly, drawing a piece of paper from her pocket. ‘She gave it to Mum a couple of days ago, but this is the first time I’ve been sure no one would see.’
She watched as Hillie’s face lit like a beacon – or would have done if it hadn’t been for the sadness that had haunted her eyes ever since the terrible row with her father.
‘A letter from Mum!’ she gasped in a whisper, almost snatching the dog-eared paper that had been in Gert’s pocket. ‘Oh, thanks, Gert. You’re an angel!’
‘Don’t thank me. Thank my mum. She was the one what suggested you kept in contact by letter. I admire your mum, mind, finding the guts to risk it. But she writes them while your dad’s at work, and reads yours at our house.’
