‘Ruby, I can see that,’ Vicky began, ‘and I’m sure he’s very fond of you …’ She had to force the final words.
‘But that’s not the same as love, is it?’ Ruby cried. ‘Fond is how you feel about kids, and that’s how he thinks of me, I know. I’ve tried to tell him that what I feel is different, that it’s proper grown-up love, but he fobs me off. He doesn’t want to hear it.’ Her tears were flowing profusely again. ‘And now he’s going away and he might not come back, so he’s never going to know.’ She let out a plaintive wail.
Vicky felt her stomach churn. ‘What do you mean, he’s going away?’ she said.
‘He told me, in the letter …’ Her voice trailed off and she sniffled. ‘I’ve been writing to him. At his base camp.’
‘Did he ask you to write?’ Vicky suddenly felt she had to know.
Ruby shook her head. ‘Oh no, he wouldn’t … he doesn’t … that was purely my idea. I wanted to know where he was and what was happening to him so I asked his mother when I saw her in the shop and she told me where he was … and he did at least write back.’
‘And what is happening to him?’ Vicky forced herself to ask.
‘Nothing much so far. He said in the letter how disappointed he was that he didn’t go over to France with the first batch of soldiers.’
‘Like my brother Henry,’ Vicky interrupted. ‘He was among the first to go.’
‘Roger was complaining that they were kept hanging around so I think he’s quite pleased to be moving at last. He’ll be allowed to come home for a few hours for a very brief embarkation leave tomorrow and then he’ll have to go back to camp so that the next day or the day after they can be shipped out to France.’
‘Really? He’s coming home?’ Vicky caught her breath.
Ruby nodded. ‘Only for a few hours. But he said he won’t have time to see anyone. He made it quite clear he’d be spending the time with his parents and Julie. And then he’ll have to go back south on the eight o’clock train from Manchester, London Road.’
Vicky closed her eyes, imagining the joy of seeing him again, but the image was fleeting and she was aware that Ruby was sobbing again.
‘He said that I’m not to try even coming to the station to see him off as it will be chaos. And he says I shouldn’t write to him anymore either, as he’ll be far too busy to reply.’
‘I … I’m sure it won’t be that long before he’s home again for good,’ Vicky said softly, though she didn’t really believe her own words.
‘But that’s no comfort if he refuses to understand how I feel about him. If he doesn’t take me seriously, he may as well not bother,’ Ruby said crossly. Vicky let her cry while she was lost in her own thoughts.
‘How can I make him see me properly?’ Ruby suddenly sobbed loudly. ‘How can I make him love me? I want him to look at me the same way he looks at you!’ she blurted out.
Vicky’s eyes opened wide and she drew in her breath sharply. ‘I … I don’t know what you mean,’ she said.
‘When he looks at you it’s like he really loves you!’ Ruby exploded.
Vicky stared at her. That was not what she had expected and she didn’t know what to say. But she did know she had felt a stab of something like jealousy when she had thought about the possibility of Roger loving someone else.
‘I suppose you’re going to tell me I’m being a silly kid after all?’ Ruby said, sniffing as she patted her cheeks dry.
‘No, please believe me, I’d never say anything like that to you, Ruby. But I think you need to understand that first love can often be quite painful, particularly if it isn’t reciprocated, and it isn’t always easy to get someone to love us in return, no matter how much we might love them.’
‘You mean there’s no hope?’ Ruby said.
‘I didn’t say that. I … I can’t speak for Roger,’ she hesitated, ‘but the thing to remember is that first love doesn’t mean it has to be your last love.’ Vicky couldn’t believe that she had quoted her father. Maybe there was some wisdom in what he’d had to say after all. ‘You’re young, Ruby, and while that doesn’t automatically make you foolish or even childish, it does mean that there will be lots more opportunities for you to love and be loved.’
Vicky wanted to smile as she spoke for she couldn’t help thinking that Ruby’s words had made her wonder if she herself had been too hasty in her own responses to Roger. She had revered Stan as if he was her first and last love and, in doing so, had perhaps spurned what could have been a second chance for her. Had this young girl unwittingly shown her the path to love?
Vicky reached out and, clasping both of Ruby’s hands in hers, she smiled gratefully at the young girl without offering any further explanation. Then she glanced up at the clock. ‘I think you should go home now, Ruby,’ she suggested. ‘It’s been a long and tiring day.’
Ruby nodded. ‘I think I will, if you don’t mind.’
‘One final thought,’ Vicky said as they both stood up. ‘It is also possible that he’s not the right man for you. Have you ever thought of that?’ Vicky smiled.
Ruby looked surprised. ‘Do you think I might have made a mistake?’
‘Go home and think about it,’ Vicky said. ‘You might find you view things differently in the morning. Like I’ve finally seen things differently this afternoon, she added silently. She had no doubt in her mind now that she had been blind when she had rejected Roger’s love without really giving him a chance. Perhaps it was she who had made a mistake? And if that were true, was it too late to make amends?
Chapter 27
Vicky had rarely seen her father cry before, even when the pains in his chest as he struggled to breathe must at times have been almost more than he could bear. The closest he had ever come to shedding tears was when he had told Vicky and Henry that their mother had died. But when she came down to breakfast the next morning, Vicky was shocked to see he was crying now. On the table was a letter and she was relieved to recognise Henry’s carefully slanted writing. She’d never read any of Henry’s letters – since their falling-out he had never addressed any to her and she relied on her father to keep her updated with her brother’s news – but it was a comfort to know that he was alive and well.
Moments later, however, she saw that next to Henry’s crumpled envelope was another letter with handwriting she didn’t recognise but the name of an army captain had been given instead of a return address. It too was addressed to her father, but this time, as she picked it up to examine it, she was overcome by a sudden dread and stared at Arthur in dismay. Henry’s letter remained sealed, telling her that it was something her father had obviously been wanting to savour later, but the contents of the mystery letter lay wedged on top of a single slice of toast, from where it was soaking up the melting margarine. Vicky slowly picked up the two pieces of flimsy paper, turning to check that her father didn’t object. But he had been overtaken by a coughing spasm so deep-rooted that he wasn’t able to say anything and fear clutched at her stomach as the bile rose in her throat.
Dear Mr Parrott, she read, it is with the deepest regret that I have to tell you … Vicky made no move to touch Arthur, who continued to struggle for breath and he stared at her blankly as she sank into a chair. Her worst fears had come true. They must have sat like that for some time, neither speaking, until Vicky became aware of someone knocking on the back door.
‘Good morning.’ It took a moment for Vicky to register that it was Lawrence Boardman, the newsagent, from next door, and she rapidly blinked away the tears that were misting her vision.
‘Is everything all right, Vicky?’ he said, ‘Only, there’s a queue formed to get into the Post Office and it doesn’t seem to have been opened yet.’
‘I’m afraid we’ve had some bad news, Mr Boardman.’ Vicky struggled to control her voice. ‘It’s our Henry, you see,’ she said, ‘he’s …’ She didn’t believe the words she was about to say.
‘I’m right sorry to hear that, lass. That’ll be hard on your dad.’
He had stepped into the living room and stopped when he saw Arthur still sitting at the table, struggling to breathe. Lawrence raised his voice as if Arthur were deaf. ‘I said I’m sorry to hear …’ and he put out his hand, but Arthur, wheezing heavily, waved him away.
‘Would you like me to contact the doctor, love?’
‘Yes, please,’ Vicky said. ‘That would be very helpful. He’ll know what to do. While I’d best go and see to the shop.’
Ruby, who hadn’t yet been entrusted with the keys, was in the middle of the small crowd who were waiting outside, and once Vicky had opened the door she watched gratefully as the young girl automatically began weighing letters, filling out forms and issuing stamps and certificates ‘as if she’d been born to it,’ as she told her father later.
It was a relief when the day was finally over and Vicky could close the door on the last customer and go through to the back where her father looked as if he’d hardly moved all day. Since the doctor’s visit, his breathing had become easier at least, but his eyes still had a glazed look and seemed to be concentrated on his dinnertime sandwich that was still sitting unappetisingly on the plate, the bread curling at the edges.
Vicky picked up Henry’s letter that still lay unopened on the table and felt her own tears starting up again. ‘We never did say goodbye properly, did we?’ She spoke the words out loud and was aware that her father had turned to look at her.
‘What a bloody waste,’ he said, ‘to have a bellyful of regrets.’ He picked up the company captain’s flimsy condolence letter that was grease-ridden and almost indecipherable by now and tossed it across the table. ‘He never did become a hero, but at least I hope he managed to make the most of what little life he did have.’ He seemed to be speaking into the air but then he suddenly pointed his finger at Vicky. ‘Like I’ve been telling you to do. I hope you’re listening at last, because this is what all that struggle boils down to.’
Vicky swallowed hard.
‘Did you know he’s been here today?’ Arthur barked out the question.
‘Who?’ asked Vicky, thrown by his sudden switch of subject.
‘Young Roger. Been here all day he has, by all accounts. Well, not at this house, but he’s been in Greenhill, according to his father. He’s being posted abroad, so they’ve given him a chance to say goodbye. More than my lad got. That’s because the good doctor is an officer, most like. So, are you going to say goodbye?’
‘What do you mean? Go where?’
‘To his house. He won’t come here, will he? You couldn’t expect him to after the way you treated him. But it’s my bet you’ll live to regret it if you let him go without a proper farewell. Isn’t it enough you’ve already done it to your brother?’
Vicky was appalled. ‘I did it? What about …?’
‘Oh, stop gassing, lass, what does it matter who did what? All I know is your brother’s gone and you never got to say goodbye. Don’t let history repeat itself.’
Vicky was astonished to hear her father suddenly talking like this and without thinking she glanced up at the clock. Maybe he was right. It was something that had been at the back of her mind all day. She looked at the clock again; she hadn’t registered it the first time, and she tried to remember what Ruby had said.
‘Did the doctor say what time Roger’s train was?’ she asked, and for the first time that day she saw her father smile.
Arthur shook his head. ‘All he said was that he’d saved petrol coupons specially so that he could take him down to London Road station in his car. I doubt they’ve left yet. Get on your bike and get over to his house. No doubt you’ll catch him there.’
This time Vicky needed no second bidding.
She pedalled furiously all the way to Roger’s house, laughing because she had suddenly realised that her father was right. It was time she let Stan go. Life was for living. It was as though she was being given a second chance and it was up to her to take it. She felt ready to grasp it in both hands. She pulled into the drive, unsure whether to go to the clinic or to use the family’s front entrance, but as she stood there uncertainly the side door opened and Mrs Buckley appeared with Julie trailing after her. Julie ran up to Vicky and, clasping hold of her hand, stared up at her.
‘My daddy’s gone away and I don’t know when he’s coming back,’ she said. Tears were forming in her eyes as she tried to suck comfort out of her thumb and Vicky thought her heart would break.
‘He’ll be back, my love, I’m sure of it.’ She bent down to talk to the little girl face to face.
‘Will you tell him he’s got to come back?’ Julie pleaded.
‘I will if I see him, but you said he’s already gone, so am I too late?’
‘I’m afraid you are,’ Mrs Buckley intervened. ‘If it was him you were hoping to see.’
‘I wasn’t sure what time the train was …’ Vicky’s voice trailed off.
‘The train isn’t until eight, but his father was driving him all the way into Manchester so they left early,’ Mrs Buckley explained. ‘I’m afraid you’ve missed him, unless you want to ride down to the local station on your bike and catch the next train into Manchester. Then you’d be bound to make it in time.’
Vicky felt Julie tugging at her skirt. ‘Will you go and see my daddy now?’ the little girl begged.
‘Yes, I believe I will,’ Vicky said.
‘You’d better let her get going or she’ll miss the train,’ Mrs Buckley softly admonished her granddaughter.
Julie tugged at her skirt again and Vicky bent down to the little girl’s level once more.
‘I’m not supposed to ask you this,’ Julie said in a loud whisper, ‘but will you be my mummy instead, now that Daddy’s gone away? Daddy says you would make a very good mummy. Do you want to come and see my old mummy? I’ve got a picture of her on my wall.’
Vicky laughed and she caught Mrs Buckley’s eye as she straightened up. The older woman was blushing, eyebrows raised. ‘I don’t know where she’s got all that from,’ she said.
‘Out of the mouths of babes,’ Vicky said, then she said to Julie as gently as she could, ‘I don’t think it works like that, sweetheart. You can’t replace a daddy with a mummy like that, but I can certainly promise to be your friend.’
Roger and his father had had about a half hour start on her and Vicky practically flew all the way to Greenhill station. If she caught the next train into town she could be in Manchester at about the same time as it would take Roger to drive there with his father.
She sat in the almost empty carriage, urging the train to get her there in time. And when it did, it wasn’t difficult to pick out the troop trains because soldiers seemed to be spilling out of every door and window. The problem was that all the men looked alike in their brand-new uniforms and Vicky didn’t know where to look first. She could see it was going to be difficult to spot one lone soldier, even if he was as tall and good-looking as Roger. That thought made her spirits lift and suddenly she wanted to laugh as she began racing frantically up and down the platforms. To her astonishment, above the melee of steam engines and chatter, she thought she heard her name being called. It took her several minutes to pinpoint the source then a voice clearly shouted, ‘Vicky! Can it really be you?’ And she saw him dismounting from the train and come running towards her. They embraced spontaneously at the moment of impact but then stood diffidently, not knowing what to say.
‘Get on with it, fella, you haven’t got all day,’ she heard a voice say from behind him and someone cuffed Roger playfully. ‘Kiss her, you idiot! Can’t you see that’s what she’s waiting for?’
Vicky laughed and seconds later she felt the light, feathery touch of his lips on hers. ‘Only obeying orders,’ Roger said as he looked up, and they both laughed. It was as if they were in their own private bubble, oblivious to the crowds milling across the concourse.
‘I can’t tell you how pleased I am to see you here,’ he said. ‘I wanted so much to ask you if you’d come but I didn’t dare.’
‘Try and stop me,’ Roger said. ‘Can we put the past behind us? Start a fresh sheet.’
‘Of course,’ Vicky said.
‘I don’t know what I can promise you by way of a future,’ Roger said. He frowned but Vicky smiled. ‘Let’s not worry about that now. Let’s agree to live for today. And today we are here, together.’
Roger kissed her again. ‘Can I ask you a favour?’
‘Of course.’
‘Will you call in occasionally on Julie? She’s very fond of you and I know she would like that.’
‘She’s also way ahead of you,’ Vicky said with a giggle, and she told him of her visit to his house.
At that moment there were several loud whistle blasts.
‘Oops!’ Roger said, ‘I’d better get back on that train or it will go without me. My dad is over there, under that recruitment poster,’ Roger pointed to the far wall and waved. ‘He said he would see me off from a safe distance; he didn’t want to come right up to the train. I’m sure, if you ask him nicely, you’ll be able to cadge a lift home.’
‘Thank you, I’ll do that.’ Vicky turned and waved in the same direction. ‘Now go before you miss that train.’
‘It’s wonderful to see you. I’m so glad I caught you,’ Roger said holding her close, not wanting to let her go.
‘And I’m glad you caught me, too,’ Vicky said. He kissed her again, only more deeply this time, and he held her head away from him in both his hands as if for inspection. As a piercing whistle blasted out one more long sustained note, he smiled and gave her the kind of look that finally made her understand what Ruby had meant.
The Postmistress Page 23
