A Strong Hand to Hold

by Anne Bennett

  But for all her loveliness, her eyes were kind and her smile of welcome genuine. She grasped Jenny with one hand and Linda with the other. ‘I am so glad you could come,’ she said. ‘Roberto has told me so much about you. I longed to meet you both.’

  Roberto! Jenny thought. Of course, that would be his full name. He’d just been Bob to her. She caught the light of mischief in Linda’s eyes and knew she was amused by the name Francesca Masters called her son, and hoped she wouldn’t laugh. She needn’t have worried. Although she might tease Bob about it later, Linda had more sense than to laugh at his mother.

  Francesca drew them towards the room she’d come from, but slowly because the calliper on Linda’s leg was hampering her. Their feet sank into a thick carpet which was beige and deep red, and Jenny looked around the room. A three-piece suite of beige velvet, with plump dark red cushions, was pulled up in front of the ornate fireplace. A curly red rug lay before the gleaming hearth with its shiny brass fender and cosy, crackling fire.

  ‘Do please sit down,’ Francesca said, and Jenny sat on the settee with Linda beside her. She had an urge to touch the wallpaper, above the panelled wood. It was a Regency stripe in beige and red to match the carpet, and Jenny knew it would have a velvety feel to it. She’d also have liked to stroke the dark red brocade drapes at the windows, but she did none of these things of course and kept her hands firmly in her lap.

  She felt slightly uncomfortable, for although she knew that Bob came from a far richer home than herself – she’d known that from the beginning – she still felt slightly intimidated in these surroundings.

  Bob had told her that Francesca would now be taking over the role of gardener, keeping the weeds under control and ‘digging for victory’. But Jenny still found it hard to imagine the graceful, impeccably dressed Francesca in overalls, grubbing around in the dirty soil for a few vegetables. Linda had glimpsed the back garden through the conservatory windows and she said it was so big it was like a small park, and what’s more, one that was beautifully looked after – in fact not a weed in sight, she’d told Jenny.

  Bob came limping in with a tray of tea then and smiled at her, guessing she was nervous. He sat down beside her and gave her a hand to squeeze.

  The movement brought Francesca’s eyes round to her again, and she said, ‘My Roberto tells me you are a very brave lady. I believe this, too.’

  Jenny smiled at the woman, and said, ‘He probably makes it sound worse than it was.’

  ‘Well,’ Linda argued, ‘It couldn’t have been much worse.’

  Jenny’s face flamed in embarrassment and Francesca, seeing her discomfort, attempted to change the subject. ‘Is your full name Jenny, my dear?’ she asked.

  ‘No, it’s Jennifer,’ Jenny said. ‘But I’ve always been called Jenny.’

  ‘Ah, this is the way of the British people,’ Francesca said. ‘Their lives are too busy. They rush, rush, rush so much they haven’t time even to give a person their full name. So, I am Francesca and yet I’m called Fran. My Roberto becomes Bob while Juliana is Jules, and my husband Malcolm is known as Mal.’

  ‘That’s just the way things are, Mother,’ Bob said. ‘I think Jenny is friendlier than Jennifer.’

  ‘Maybe so, but it is strange that no one uses their rightful given name,’ Francesca said. ‘But, Linda at least is just Linda. And, I believe you sing, my dear?’

  ‘I sing a bit,’ Linda admitted, accepting a cup of tea from Francesca. ‘I don’t know if I’m any good.’

  ‘In a little while we shall find out,’ Francesca said. ‘Is that what you wish?’

  Linda didn’t know what she wished, but she knew it was what Jenny wanted. She glanced across at her and said, ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘We will see what you are made of shortly,’ Francesca said. ‘For now, drink your tea and we will talk.’

  And how they talked! At first Linda felt rather resentful of this woman, who seemed to want to know everything about her and her family; it had nothing at all to do with singing. But then she realized it was true interest and that Mrs Masters really seemed to care and sympathize sincerely when Linda explained about her mother and brothers being killed. Francesca went on to ask Linda about any experience she’d had in singing, which of course had been nil – unless you counted the singing she’d done for fun.

  ‘That is amateur singing,’ Francesca said, ‘And no bad thing, for I can teach no one to sing well, unless they have a burning desire to use their voice. You appear to have that. We will see, and if it is there, I will develop it. You want this too – yes?’

  Linda really wasn’t sure, but felt she could do nothing but agree.

  Francesca smiled, and said, ‘Come my dear, we’ll go into the library and find out what you can do.’

  The library faced the back of the house and the door to it led off the large square hall. Francesca led the way and Linda felt her mouth to be so dry, she wondered if she’d be able to sing a note. When Francesca opened the door and she stepped over the threshold she was almost sure she wouldn’t.

  There was a thick, green, patterned carpet on the floor and a large, very expensive-looking piano opposite her, with a stool made of the same wood with a tapestry seat on it. Two desks were set against one wall with two black leather armchairs tucked underneath them and against three entire walls were shelves from floor to ceiling and they were filled with more books than Linda had ever seen in her life. She stopped and stared.

  Seeing Linda’s amazement, Francesca was slightly amused, but knowing there was probably little enough money in Jenny’s house for books, she said to the girl, ‘Those are mainly my husband’s, for he uses this room as a sort of office. They are all catalogued and we’d be sure to find something to suit you if you’d like to borrow some books now and again. Malcolm had the children’s classics removed from the nursery and stored them down here as Roberto and Juliana grew up. I’m sure you’d enjoy The Railway Children by E. Nesbit, if you haven’t read it already. It was one of my Juliana’s favourites.’

  The first books Linda had ever owned had been given to her by Jenny at Christmas and she looked at the beautifully bound books and said, ‘You mean it?’

  ‘Of course I do,’ Francesca said briskly. ‘I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t. But let’s leave the subject of books for now, my dear. Come over to the piano and I’ll see what you’re made of.’

  What Linda was made of impressed Francesca very much. She was excited, like any teacher would be, at finding a gifted pupil and she knew Linda had exceptional talent.

  The afternoon sped past as Francesca tutored Linda on scales and pitch and snatches of songs which she had her repeat over and over. Eventually she closed the piano, and said, ‘Enough, my dear. Your throat must be raw. I’m a hard taskmaster, I’m afraid.’

  ‘No,’ Linda said. ‘I’m all right.’

  ‘And will you come and see me every Saturday morning?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Linda, and added honesty, ‘I’ll be glad to.’

  Linda was tired on the way home and her legs hurt; she was mightily glad of the wheelchair. Jenny could see how exhausted she was and felt sorry for her. It was a month from Linda’s thirteenth birthday, the first one her mother wouldn’t be there for, and Jenny was determined to do something special for her.

  ‘What would you like most of all for your birthday next month?’ she said.

  Linda could have said, ‘to have everything back the way it was,’ but she was no longer a child and had to accept that her mother and brothers were dead and gone; no wishing in the world would bring them back. There was no sense either in mentioning anything about it and upsetting Jenny, who was trying to be kind. ‘Well now,’ she said, her head on one side as if she was attempting to think, ‘I’ll tell you what I’d like. I’d like to get this bloody calliper off my leg and to never need this stinking wheelchair ever again.’

  ‘Is that all?’ Jenny said sarcastically. ‘That’s all right then. For a minute or two, I thought you were
going to ask for the impossible. I’ll go straight into the hospital on my way home from work tomorrow and tell them it must be done because you say so.’

  Linda grinned and said, ‘Maybe I could settle for going to the pictures, or you could take me for a meal if you’re feeling flush, or to the theatre, or all three if you like.’

  ‘And maybe I could just tip you out of this wheelchair if you’re not careful,’ Jenny said. ‘It had better be me that thinks up a treat for you before you bankrupt me altogether.’ And she knew whatever it took and whatever it cost, she was determined to give Linda a birthday to remember.

  FOURTEEN

  May 1944

  By 1944 Linda had been living with the O’Learys for three years. Gone now was the rather puny, undersized child; and in her place was a young lady. She still had a small frame and would never be tall, but she was a very pretty girl with a good figure, her best feature being her large eyes.

  Martin and Francis had a few days’ unexpected leave. ‘Embarkation leave if you ask me,’ Martin said. ‘Probably connected to all that activity on the south coast.’

  Jenny knew what he meant because the south coast had been out of bounds to civilian for ages now and rumours abounded of military craft of all sorts collected around the coast and military vehicles littering the fields and whole villages being commandeered. All she could think about was another Dunkirk and she trembled for her brothers, and Bob too of course, who she knew would probably be involved in some capacity. But she knew nothing would be gained by speculating. She was pleased to see the boys anyway and so was Linda for they’d always shown how much they liked her and had teased her as if she’d been a younger sister. This leave though Martin realized the child Linda had gone. He watched her as she bustled around the kitchen that Saturday afternoon preparing the evening meal for them all as Jenny and Peggy had taken a trip to the Bull Ring, a rare treat now for them both to get out together.

  ‘Nearly sixteen, Linda,’ Martin commented. ‘How’s it feel then to be getting on, nearly an old lady now?’

  ‘No doubt I’ll be able to cope with it,’ Linda answered drily.

  ‘Sweet sixteen and never been kissed, eh, Linda?’ he teased.

  She glanced up at him and smiled. ‘That would be telling.’

  ‘Oh, hoity toity miss,’ Francis said. ‘Does Jenny know your little secret?’

  ‘No one knows my secrets, otherwise they wouldn’t be secrets, would they?’

  ‘She has you there,’ Martin said, and gave a bellow of laughter.

  ‘Ssh,’ Linda cautioned and pointed her thumb at the door.

  The two men knew what she meant. Their mother hated them chaffing and teasing Linda. In fact, she hated them going anywhere near her at all. Neither of them could understand her attitude. Linda had been living with the O’Learys for some time, after all. Martin thought she should have got over any antagonism and he would tease Linda if he wanted to. ‘Don’t be scared of her,’ he said. ‘We’re doing no harm.’

  ‘I’m not scared of her,’ Linda said scornfully.

  ‘Martin! Francis!’ came a sudden authoritative voice from the living room.

  Linda gripped the edge of the sink so tightly that her knuckles showed white, and then she jerked her head and said, ‘You’d better go. She wants you.’

  ‘I’ll go when I’m good and ready,’ Martin said.

  Heedless of her wet hands, Linda gave him a push. ‘Go on,’ she said. ‘The two of you go and see what she wants and leave me to get on.’

  ‘I’ll go when I’m ready,’ Martin said again. ‘After all, what can she do?’

  ‘To you, nothing,’ Linda said grimly. ‘I know full well if she gets into a temper who will bear the brunt of it.’

  ‘Come on, Martin,’ Francis said, his smile gone. ‘Linda’s right. Anyway, we’ve only got a forty-eight-hour pass. Let’s not upset the old girl more than we have to.’

  ‘Oh no, we mustn’t upset her,’ Martin said bitterly. ‘By God, when this war’s over there’ll have to be some changes here.’

  But then, he knew there would be. If his plans went the way he wanted, he’d be married as soon as this whole thing was over. He’d marry his girlfriend Dora tomorrow if she’d go for it, but she didn’t seem to want to rush things. She’d drive him mad if he didn’t get answers soon, because he’d dated her for six months and knew her to be good and kind, with a body a man would sell his soul for. The point was, it was his soul she was worried about. But he couldn’t give a toss that all her people were in the Sally Army and that she’d been heavily involved herself until she’d enlisted. Martin could just imagine his mother’s face if he joined her church and marched up the Pype Hayes Estate banging his tambourine. The vision and her probable reaction had made him smile.

  But when he told Dora, she hadn’t seen the funny side of it at all. ‘Talk to her, Martin. Let her know we worship the same God.’

  Talk to her? It would be like talking to a man-eating shark and would make no difference either. Dora didn’t know his mother. But whatever Norah said, with or without her permission or blessing, he was going to marry Dora and the sooner Dora realized that, the better he would feel.

  But Francis was right. There was no point in upsetting his mother now. Martin gave his brother a push and Linda a shrug of his shoulders before going into the living room. Linda watched the men leave with relief and went back to the sink for she had plenty to do, and she wanted the evening meal to be ready before Jenny got home from town.

  But as she peeled and chopped the vegetables, her mind wandered back over the last three years she’d spent in the O’Leary household. It had been difficult for her in the beginning, and not just because of the attitude of the two older women. Geraldine had been antagonistic too then, and though the boys had been friendly enough, she hadn’t seen that much of them. Only with Jenny, Seamus’s wife Jan, and particularly Maureen and her family, did she feel completely at peace.

  In many ways they’d been her lifesavers because in the early days she’d found it very hard to live with people who seemed to so actively dislike her and who were resentful of her presence. Another person who’d always given Linda’s battered ego a boost was Francesca Masters.

  Over the years, a friendship had developed between the woman and child so keen to learn everything she had to teach her, and not just in music and singing either. Going through her enormous collection of books had opened up new horizons for Linda. It had even spilled over into other school subjects such as maths, which Linda had found so difficult in the past. Francesca had always been willing to help her in such subjects, and Linda found she enjoyed school more when she wasn’t constantly behind.

  The teachers had been pleased and surprised at her progress and presumed Jenny was helping her at home, and Linda didn’t tell them any different. No one knew of her singing lessons and that’s how Linda wanted it. People would think she was peculiar as it was, wanting to learn to sing properly, so she told no one of her visits to Francesca Masters. Eventually as the months passed, despite the strained atmosphere of the house, Linda felt more able to cope.

  She’d been a bit anxious though about Christmas 1941, but she wasn’t alone, for no one had been really looking forward to Christmas that year. The war was dragging on: as Maureen O’Leary remarked, it seemed like they were all taking one step forward and two back all the time.

  In November 1941, they had been told of the massive losses in shipping – 750,000 tons scattered over various ocean beds between July and October. ‘How can they manage with losses like that?’ Jenny had asked her gran one day in dismay.

  ‘It’s desperate all right,’ Maureen had said. ‘And how many men did we lose on those ships? That’s another loss.’

  ‘Aye, that’s another tale altogether,’ Peggy had said. ‘All we can be glad of is that only one sailor lost his life when the Ark Royal finally sank.’

  Linda supposed they should be glad, but to lose an aircraft carrier of such a size, which was t
orpedoed on 14 November, was a major blow. So she could understand the adults’ despondency a little. This deepened when the Japanese, who already occupied parts of China and Indo-China, much to America’s disquiet, bombed Pearl Harbor on 7 December.

  America was thrust into the war, whether they wanted to be or not, and many thought it was about time. No one however, was prepared for the scale of the massive Japanese onslaught. The world had looked on in horrified amazement as the following day, the Philippines, Thailand and Singapore were bombed and further Japanese troops landed in Malaya. By December they occupied Bangkok and were granted free passage through Thailand by the frightened government.

  And so it went on, battle after battle. Christmas had been a fairly muted affair, although the O’Leary household, or certainly Jenny, Geraldine and Linda herself, had tried to make it a more festive occasion for the children’s sake. But it had been difficult.

  The Japanese marched on as 1942 dawned and Allied Forces withdrew to Singapore. It was said to be impregnable despite the heavy bombing raids inflicted on it since the beginning of the war. However, it fell to the Japanese on 15 February, and 64,000 British, Indian and Australian defenders were forced to surrender after 9,000 had been killed in combat. Winston Churchill, speaking to the nation on the wireless later, described the fall of Singapore as the ‘worst disaster and largest capitulation in British history’.

  American GIs began arriving in Britain and Linda had her first sight of them when she was taken into the General to have her calliper removed for good, just before her fourteenth birthday. It had been a great day for both her and Jenny, who had gone with her and treated her to lunch afterwards to celebrate her freedom from the heavy iron that had imprisoned her leg for so long. For the first time since the accident, Linda felt she was just like other girls.

  The next day she told Maureen of the Yanks she’d glimpsed from the windows of the taxi as they’d travelled through the town. Maureen knew many girls’ heads had been turned by the GIs, as they were smarter in dress than the average British Tommy. Besides all that, they also seemed to have an unlimited supply of money, chocolate, chewing gum and even nylons for the chosen few.