by Cathy Sharp
‘I think we could market this at twelve to fifteen hundred pounds,’ he said. ‘Would you like us to put it on our books?’
‘I’ll think about it and let you know,’ Angela said, and showed him out.
‘I wouldn’t let them sell it for that,’ Ned remarked as the door closed behind the man.
‘I had a similar estimate from the solicitor. He said a thousand pounds … but added that we might have to take a bit less if the structure wasn’t sound.’
‘Looks sound enough to me,’ Ned said. ‘My contact bought one of these houses a couple of months ago and he paid eighteen hundred for it. He was chuffed to bits over it, thought he’d got it cheap. Do you want me to telephone him and ask him to take a look?’
‘There isn’t a phone here …’ Angela glanced at her watch. ‘I have to get back by six. As I said, it isn’t my property and I shall be busy all day tomorrow …’
‘If you give me the key I’ll meet him and ask what he thinks about the price.’
Angela hesitated, because it wasn’t her house; it belonged to the charity. Did she know Ned well enough to trust him with the key? She hesitated for a moment and then decided to go with her instinct.
‘If you’re sure you want the bother?’
‘No trouble at all, Mrs Morton. I’ll bring the key back to your apartment on Saturday and if you’re not there I’ll put it through the letterbox. You just leave it to Ned, he’ll see you right.’
Sister Beatrice was in the sick ward when Angela took in a tray of drinks for the late-night staff. She told her the good news.
‘I cleared all the good things out and I’m going to book the church hall and auction it all for St Saviour’s – and for the heavy old stuff I managed to get thirty pounds, at least Ned did. He’d been helping me and he bartered with the dealer, who only wanted to give me ten pounds.’
‘The Board will be pleased with thirty pounds, especially at this time of year. As you said, the donations tend to slow up for a while after Christmas.’
‘Yes … is there anything else I can do tonight?’
‘You could bring some more drinks up for the isolation ward, if you will – you know the procedure. Just leave the trolley outside and knock. There’s no need for you to go in and perhaps catch it yourself.’
‘Yes, I know,’ Angela said. It seemed that whatever she did to help, she would never persuade the Sister that she was both sensible and capable.
SEVENTEEN
‘Alice.’ Nan stopped her as she was on her way to the sick ward with a tray of drinks and biscuits for the children. ‘Will you come to the staff room when you’ve taken that up, please? I wanted a word with you.’
‘Yes, of course.’
Alice felt a tingle at her nape. Nan had looked very serious and she wondered if she’d heard rumours. Mavis had brought a bag of clothes and small bits she’d left behind to St Saviour’s and Nan had seen her carrying it when she left after work that evening. It was only a matter of time before either Nan or Sister Beatrice noticed that Alice was putting on weight and put two and two together.
She took the drinks to the sick room and knocked at the door. It was opened by Staff Nurse Carole, who glared at her.
‘Oh, it’s you,’ she said. ‘Why on earth have you taken so long? Hurry up and put the drinks on the trolley, over there.’
Alice was so flabbergasted that she couldn’t think of a retort. There was no pleasing some people, and this nurse turned her nose up at most of the carers, treating them as if they were a bit of dirt on her shoe. Michelle didn’t like her and Alice thought she was a snooty bitch, but she daren’t say a word. Sister Beatrice would take the word of a nurse over hers every time and besides, she could do without bringing attention to herself right now. Carrying the tray inside, she smiled at the children but kept her mouth shut.
Walking back down to the staff room, Alice’s heart was racing. Why did Nan want to speak to her? It was useless to lie if she’d guessed the truth; in a few weeks she would be showing anyway.
Nan had boiled the kettle and turned with a smile as Alice entered.
‘Ah, there you are, Alice. I’m making a drink – would you like a tea or coffee?’
‘I don’t mind, whatever you’re having,’ Alice said, and sat down nervously. ‘Is something wrong, Nan?’
‘Possibly, Alice. You haven’t looked at all well recently; too pale and tired. Are you going to tell me what’s the matter, dear?’
Alice hesitated, then she knew she couldn’t hold it back. ‘You saw my sister bring me some things yesterday, didn’t you? My mother threw me out and I’m staying with Michelle for a little while, until I find a place to live …’
‘I thought that might be the case. I saw the bruising on your face but we were busy and I didn’t get a chance to talk to you. Why did your mother do such an unkind thing, Alice?’
‘Because she’s ashamed of me …’ Alice’s cheeks flamed, and she couldn’t stop herself blurting out the truth. ‘I’m pregnant – I’m sorry, Nan.
Nan frowned as she handed Alice a cup of tea. ‘Oh, Alice, love. How did you end up in such a pretty pickle?’
‘I got involved with a fella, he said he wanted to marry me, but he’s gone now and … I hope you won’t ask me to leave just yet, please. I don’t know what I’d do. I know I can’t stay on for ever, but just for a while longer.’
‘That won’t be easy.’ Nan’s face was etched with concern as she watched Alice sip her tea and saw the bruises blooming on her cheeks; no doubt from her mother’s hand. ‘Do you feel well enough to carry on?’
‘Yes, it’s just the sickness in the mornings – but once that is over I’ll be all right.’
‘Well, I’m very sorry for your trouble, Alice,’ Nan said. ‘But there’s no way around telling Sister Beatrice.’
‘Do you really have to tell her?’ Alice asked, her throat catching with sudden tears. ‘She’ll sack me, I know she will.’
‘You shouldn’t assume that,’ Nan said gently. ‘I know Sister better than anyone here and I believe she will be more sympathetic than you imagine. The time will come when you will be asked to leave, but perhaps not just yet.’
Alice choked back her emotion. ‘I know it was wrong, Nan; I know I’ve disgraced myself – but if Sister sacks me I shan’t have enough money to last me through the birth.’
‘We won’t desert you in your time of need,’ Nan told her earnestly. ‘I can promise you that whatever happens both Sister and I will have your best interests at heart. Now dry your eyes, drink your tea and then go and clean Nancy and Terry’s room. For some reason, the cleaner just refuses to go in there – she says the boy gives her the creeps.’
‘I’ll do it for you,’ Alice said, determined to grin and bear it. If she made herself invaluable to Nan perhaps Sister would let her stay on until she began to show too much, and maybe by then she would have a plan for the future, though at the moment she was still terrified at the prospect of being a single mother. Everyone would whisper behind her back and call her names, and no respectable landlady would take her in …
Terry stared at her as she knocked and then entered the room. He was alone and she guessed that Nancy had left him while she fetched something or visited the bathroom. His eyes narrowed, staring at her oddly, and she understood why Kelly said he gave her the willies, but Alice was made of sterner stuff.
‘Hello, Terry,’ she said. ‘I’m Alice and I’ve come to change your sheets and clean the room for you – make it smell lovely of lavender polish.’
‘We don’t want you here,’ he muttered sullenly. ‘If you don’t go away I’ll scream.’
‘You’ll have to scream then,’ Alice told him cheerfully. ‘I’ve been given the job of changin’ your bed and I’m goin’ to do it – why don’t you go and sit by the window and look at the garden? There are lots of birds out there to see.’
‘I hate birds. Nasty fluttery things – I’d like to kill them all.’
His words se
nt a chill up her spine. Her brothers were rough, tough little monsters at times but she’d seen Saul pick up a half-dead robin that had been caught by a stray cat and nurse it carefully until it died. Surely Terry didn’t mean what he was saying? He was just a scared little boy who was hurting inside and wanted to hit out at everyone in sight.
‘I’ve got some fruit drops in my pocket,’ she said. ‘Would you like one?’
Terry nodded but didn’t answer. Alice took the packet from her pocket and offered it to him. He hesitated, then grabbed the bag and ran from the room, slamming the door behind him.
‘What an evil little devil,’ Alice said to the door. For two pins she’d have gone after him and given him a clip round the ear, but then she remembered. She was already in trouble and she’d better be careful or she would find herself in the street. ‘Good riddance,’ she muttered to herself and began to strip the bed.
As soon as she stripped the sheets from Terry’s bed she understood why he didn’t want anyone to change it. It stank of urine and he’d ripped a hole in the bottom one. Alice sighed as she gathered them up, ready to take to the laundry.
She had just finished cleaning the room when Nancy returned with a tray and two cups of cocoa. She looked for her brother and frowned as she saw he was missing.
‘Where did Terry go?’
Alice shrugged. ‘I think he didn’t want to be here while I cleaned so he just ran off. He’ll come back soon enough, I dare say.’
‘He’s ashamed because he wet the bed again,’ Nancy said and looked sad. ‘I expect he was rude to you. I’m sorry.’
‘Not your fault or his,’ Alice said. ‘Lots of kids wet the bed. We’re used to it, love. Don’t you worry. He’ll get used to us in time.’
‘I hope so,’ Nancy said but she still looked sad.
Alice was thoughtful as she left with her arms filled with dirty sheets. So many of the children had terrible lives before they came here and the memory of it haunted them for years. She wasn’t the only one with troubles and maybe hers weren’t so bad after all. Alice was strong and able to work; even if she got the sack she’d find another job somewhere. She loved her job with the children, but there were plenty of factories and not all of them would bother because she wasn’t married; maybe she could get herself a cheap ring and pretend to be a widow. The idea made her feel less frightened. She gritted her teeth as she headed down to the laundry. Yes, she’d get by somehow.
EIGHTEEN
Ned didn’t return the key on Saturday as promised, but Angela hardly noticed. She was busy all day preparing food for her guests at her house-warming. Her spare bedroom was filled with the bits and pieces for the auction and she had decided to keep the door firmly shut, because it was rather untidy now.
Once the evening started, her guests began to enjoy themselves and Angela found that she was laughing far more than she had for a long, long time. She’d decided to invite all of her new friends from the home as well as some other new acquaintances. Sally was accompanied by Mr Markham. Mark had come alone, but Carole arrived a few minutes after he did, and Angela couldn’t help but notice she seemed glued to his side. Michelle popped in for half an hour on her way to St Saviour’s, where she was on duty that evening; Jean brought a rather shy, sandy-haired young man with her, introducing him as her brother, because she’d been told she could bring a friend, and Alice arrived alone at half past eight, having been on the early-evening shift. Nan had declined, because she was working, but Nick Hadden arrived at a quarter to nine, bearing a bottle of sweet white wine and some chocolates.
‘I’m sorry to be so late,’ he apologised. ‘I had an appointment and was kept much longer than I expected.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Angela said. ‘Lovely wine, Nick. I shall forgive you if you open this and pour me a glass.’
‘Your wish is my command,’ he said, bowing to her, his eyes sparkling with mischief. ‘You know I am your slave, Angela.’
‘I know nothing of the sort,’ she retorted, but felt the laughter bubbling up inside her. It was a good turnout, with friends from St Saviour’s taking up most of the seats. She’d also asked a young couple who had moved into the flat next door recently, Ken Middleton and his wife, Susan. He’d been an officer in the RAF and was now something in the City. Susan didn’t work and was expecting her first child, not that it showed. Susan had popped round to invite her for coffee soon after they moved in and told her.
‘I’m glad to know you’ve taken this apartment,’ she’d confided in Angela as she sipped her coffee. ‘It’s nice to have one of your own sort living next door. One never knows these days and I’m a little nervous of being alone when Ken is out – now I know there’s someone I can talk to …’
‘I’m afraid I’m at work most of the time, and I don’t always stay at night,’ Angela admitted, and saw disapproval in the other woman’s eyes. Susan didn’t say anything, but it was obvious that she thought women of their class ought not to work.
‘Doesn’t your husband mind you going out to work? Ken practically forbade me to even think about it. Of course I did volunteer for stuff during the war, but we all did …’
‘My husband was killed in the war,’ Angela replied, managing to keep her voice steady, which was something she couldn’t have done a few months ago. ‘I needed a job to fill my time.’
Susan went red and hastily apologised, but Angela shook her head. ‘You couldn’t know, of course. It happened to a lot of us, I’m afraid. I’m not the only one having to make adjustments.’
‘No – and it isn’t always plain sailing if they do come back,’ Susan had told her. ‘Ken was a little quiet at first, but he’s come out of it – not all of them do. A friend of mine said her husband had changed completely. He has become bad-tempered and dominant – he’s moody and different, not like the man she’d married at all.’
Angela wondered if John would have changed if he’d come home at the end of the war. War did change men, and she knew that Susan’s friend wasn’t the only woman who was finding it hard to cope with the stranger that had returned.
Her gaze drifted across the room to Mark. He was laughing at something Carole was saying to him and seemed to be enjoying the young nurse’s company. Angela felt a tightness in her throat, but she told herself that if she didn’t want him as a husband herself, she shouldn’t resent another woman making a play for him. Perhaps if he’d paid attention to one of the other girls instead … she wasn’t sure Carole was right for her friend. Instinct told her that the girl was selfish and vain and she felt annoyed with him for falling for Carole’s lures. Surely he had the sense to see through her – or was he like a lot of other men, a sucker for that come-on look? She’d thought better of him.
Feeling unaccountably upset, Angela turned and smiled at Nick, who had brought her another glass of her favourite wine.
‘That is lovely, Nick. Even better now it has been chilled. I was so lucky to get a refrigerator with this flat. I don’t know how the builder got hold of it; they seem like gold dust.’
‘One day everyone will have refrigerators,’ Nick assured her. ‘When this country finally gets back on its feet, life is going to change for the better. Things are beginning to pick up, but we’re not there yet by a long way.’
‘No, I suppose not,’ Angela sighed. ‘It’s hard to believe the war is over, isn’t it? We all thought life would be perfect once it stopped – but we still have to queue for bananas and oranges, and some things are impossible to get hold of – simple things like soap.’
‘We’re still paying the yanks back for all their help to keep us going through the war. Rationing and shortages won’t get better for a while yet.’
‘Oh, you’re not droning on about the rations, are you?’ Carole asked, coming to join them. ‘I hate it when everyone starts complaining. It makes life so miserable – where on earth did all this food come from, Angela? Do you know someone who can get it for you under the counter?’
‘No, I certainly do not
.’ Angela frowned at Carole in consternation, upset at the accusation that she’d got the evening’s food on the black market. ‘It’s mostly game and that isn’t on the ration – you just have to think a bit differently …’
‘Clever girl, aren’t you?’ Carole’s lips veered on a sneer. ‘I don’t like game – or I thought I didn’t.’ She sniffed at something on toast, which she had been eating quite happily until she knew what it was.
Nick winked at Angela behind her back. ‘Doesn’t know a good thing when it’s handed to her,’ he said as she walked off. ‘I wouldn’t have thought she was your sort, darling?’ He let his hand trail down her bare arm, giving her a smile that seemed to say he thought she belonged to him.
When had he started calling her darling? Angela wasn’t sure. She hoped he wouldn’t assume that he had any hold over her, just because they had been out together a few times. She enjoyed his company but she certainly wasn’t ready to begin a relationship with Nick, or with anybody. Angela cast a wistful look at Mark, because somehow the sight of him flirting with the young nurse made her feel jealous and a little angry – as if he belonged to her.
Of course he didn’t and Angela had no right to think anything of the sort. Besides, Mark would want a proper relationship and she couldn’t betray John’s memory by loving another man – could she? Her mood didn’t improve, especially when she saw Mark help Carole on with her coat at the end of the evening, his eyes sparkling as she said something that clearly amused him. He kissed Angela chastely on the cheek as they said their goodnights, and Angela felt sure she saw a look of triumph in Carole’s eyes as she left with Mark. Surely Mark wouldn’t take her home – what if she invited him in for a nightcap?
Her thoughts were tangled and didn’t get any better when she lay in her bed that night. Just why was she feeling like this? She thumped her pillow and turned over, torn between the hurt he’d inflicted even if it was without realising it, but also jealousy that he could look at Carole in that teasing way. She’d thought that look was just for her. Even the idea that he was looking at someone else that way … Angela wasn’t sure why but the thought made her want to weep.
