A Strong Hand to Hold

by Anne Bennett

  Linda was furious. She glared at Norah and wondered if she thought everyone had come to honour her or the other battleaxe she’d taken over from. She glanced at the coffin at the front of the church, draped with a black cloth and scattered with Mass cards amongst the wreaths, and wondered how many Masses it would take and how many prayers said to get Eileen Gillespie into Heaven. A good few she decided. If it wasn’t for Jenny she wouldn’t have gone to the funeral and pretended to be all pious and sad about the old lady dying. She’d have waited till the old harridan was in the ground and then danced on her grave. Still, she supposed, now she was dead, Eileen would turn into a saint like most people did. A man could be the biggest bastard under the sun alive, but once he died everyone would go around saying what a fine fellow he’d been. Well, she wouldn’t play that game. She’d hated Eileen Gillespie living and she still hated her. She was glad she was dead and wished Norah would die soon too – and give Jenny some life.

  EIGHTEEN

  The weeks after Eileen’s death were very grim indeed. Norah was determined on a decent period of mourning and Jenny began to wonder if Christmas, when it arrived, would be celebrated at all. Linda was glad of her three pre-Christmas concerts planned for the hospitals; she felt she was doing something useful and, after all, there was precious little festive cheer at home.

  Jenny hadn’t made any objections to her taking part, despite the fact that the first concert was just five weeks after Eileen Gillespie’s death. She too felt that bringing the concert-party to the hospital was a good thing and was bound to cheer the patients. Norah said plenty, of course – all of it caustic and unhelpful – but Jenny just said it was wartime and everyone needed to do their bit. ‘It’s also nearly Christmas,’ she added, ‘the season of goodwill, Mother. Surely it can’t be wrong for Linda to bring some pleasure to people who are ill and in pain, especially when they can’t get home for Christmas?’

  Linda had to smile at that. She thought of the brightly decorated wards and the genuine warmth and concern that the doctors and nurses showed their patients. She’d prefer their festivities any day, to spending time in Norah O’Leary’s presence.

  However, she said none of this to Jenny, who was hoping against hope that Bob would make it home. She knew Jenny had agreed to get engaged this Christmas and thought it was about bloody time, after four years of courting. She also knew Jenny had hesitated for so long because she thought she’d be tied to her mother for years to come. But now things were different and Norah could certainly cope around the house. In a way, Linda thought, she should be grateful to Eileen Gillespie for dying when she did, for it was Eileen’s illness or at least her bedridden state before her death, that had caused Norah O’Leary to put aside her own imagined disability and get to her feet. No pills alone would have caused her to rise up from her chair the way she did, however good they were and regardless of any recommendation.

  Surely that was Jenny’s passport to freedom? Surely, now Norah could cope on her own, Jenny could marry Bob and be rid of her mother’s dominance? When the war was finally over and she’d moved away and was living with Jenny and Bob, maybe then she’d get over the strange feelings she had for the German POW. When they called at the Phelps’s farm to pick up Sam Phelps for their first Christmas concert in mid-December, Linda hadn’t been near the place for weeks. Now it was black night when they drove into the farmyard, and there was no one in sight.

  ‘You getting out to give him a call or shall I?’ Bill asked.

  ‘I will if you like,’ Linda said. She jumped down from the van almost defiantly. She would not hide herself away as if she was afraid, she decided. Anyway, it was hardly likely Max would be around. He’d probably be tucked up in his own quarters in the barn.

  ‘Tell him to get a move on will you?’ Bill Fletcher said irritably. ‘Before we all freeze to death.’

  Linda gave a wave of acknowledgement as she scaled the gate and made her way across the farmyard. Above her, a full moon shone down and the stars twinkled. It was a clear night, and a cold one, with a heavy frost for the morning and Linda’s feet slid on the icy cobbles. She gave a tap on the kitchen door and opened it, calling out, ‘Only me,’ as she did so. She was surprised and then put out to see Max sitting on the settee beside Ruby, the land girl, warming himself by the fire, like a valued member of the family. Charlie and Sally had obviously both had baths and were dressed in pyjamas, slippers and dressing gowns, and Sarah Phelps, Sam’s wife, was brushing Sally’s hair which shone in the light of the flickering fire.

  Everyone turned as Linda walked in, and the children immediately ran to her, with a cry. But over their heads, she had eyes for only Max. ‘That Sam,’ Sarah said exasperatedly, ‘he’d be late for his own funeral. Here Sally, run up and tell your dad they’re waiting on him.’

  Sally, unwilling to leave the warm room, complained, ‘Oh Mom, he’ll be here in a minute.’

  ‘Do as you’re told.’

  Reluctantly, Sally dropped the hand that was holding Linda’s, and Sarah said, ‘Come up to the fire, pet, and get warm. Sam won’t be long.’

  ‘Oh no, it’s all right,’ Linda said. Now she was here, only yards from Max, her insides seemed to have turned to jelly. She wasn’t at all sure she could walk and was quite sure it was not a good idea to move any nearer.

  ‘Oh come on, he could be ages yet, you know how he is,’ Sarah said. ‘You might as well get warm while you have the chance.’ And, with Charlie tugging on her hand, Linda felt herself pulled forward, and Ruby moved to the end of the settee making a space for Linda to sit beside Max.

  Afterwards, she wasn’t at all sure what she’d said in answer to Sarah’s questions about herself and her family. She must have made the right responses, but really, all she was aware of was the nearness of Max and the electricity that existed between them. When Sam appeared, one half of her was relieved and the other disappointed. All the way to the van, she silently told herself off for allowing a man to arouse her in such a way.

  Knowing how she felt about Max, though she could confide in no one, she could understand Jenny’s feelings for Bob, and hoped for her sake that he would get away to see her over Christmas.

  He did, although he’d had to travel all through the night, and arrived on their doorstep in the early hours of Christmas Day. Roused from the bed she’d just tumbled into, Jenny ran down to let him in, pleased that no one else seemed to have been woken. She took one look at his face, which was grey with fatigue, and drew him indoors and into her arms.

  She insisted he eat before sleeping, though Bob found it hard to keep his eyes open over the scrambled eggs Jenny made from the tin of dried egg in the cupboard, wishing she had something more festive to give the man she loved. But the meal revived him a little and he stood up from the table and drew Jenny into his arms and kissed her. Later when she tucked him up on the settee, with extra blankets she’d brought down from the top of her wardrobe, he held onto her arm. ‘I love you, Jenny O’Leary,’ he said. ‘All the way here I’ve thought about nothing but you,’ and he drew her down to sit beside him.

  ‘I’m so glad you made it,’ she whispered.

  ‘I had to,’ Bob said. ‘You see, I have something rather special to give you,’ and he pulled a ring box from his pocket and opened it to show Jenny the diamond solitaire ring that glinted out at her.

  ‘Oh Bob, it’s beautiful!’ she breathed.

  ‘You will do me the honour of becoming my wife?’ Bob said, and Jenny threw her arms around him. She’d agreed to become engaged at Christmas, but somehow hadn’t expected a ring.

  ‘Yes. Oh yes!’ she cried, and their kiss was like an awakening in Jenny. She was engaged to Bob, she belonged with him and when he slipped from under the blanket and they lay before the fire on the rug together, she forgot her mother in the room above her and the condemnation of the priest in the confessional box, and she wanted Bob to make love to her. ‘Go on, go on,’ she panted as his fingers caressed her breasts. He’d opened the buttons
of the dressing gown and nightdress and she lay naked before him. He gasped at the beauty of her, and trailed his fingers down her belly and followed it with his lips.

  ‘Oh God, Jenny,’ he groaned.

  ‘Go on. Oh please!’

  Bob’s senses were reeling and yet he pulled away and Jenny looked at him puzzled and frustrated, her insides crying for relief. ‘What is it?’ she asked.

  ‘Jenny, it wouldn’t be right, not yet.’

  ‘Don’t you want to?’

  ‘Don’t I want to?’ Bob cried. ‘Of course I want to! I’ve wanted you from the first day we met, and each time we’ve been together my love has increased, but I don’t want to love you this way, with your mother and Linda asleep upstairs.’ He cupped her face between his hands and said, ‘When I make love to you, darling, it will be a beautiful experience for us both and then you will be my wife. As soon as the war is over, we will be married.’

  ‘But Bob …’

  ‘Darling, we’ve waited so long. Surely we can wait a little longer?’

  Jenny wanted to cry, but she knew that what Bob said was true. She pulled her clothes around her and said, half-jokingly, ‘Why are you so bloody sensible?’

  ‘Because I love you, Mrs Masters-to-be, that’s why,’ he said comfortably. ‘And now you’d better go to bed, before everyone has to get up again.’

  She returned the ring box and said, ‘Let’s tell Mother and Linda at breakfast. Keep it till then.’

  ‘Are you going to Mass?’

  ‘We went to the one at midnight,’ Jenny yawned. ‘I waited all evening for you to arrive. I really thought you weren’t going to come after all. Mother stayed up, so I know if you’d arrived you’d have got in, for though I told you she’s much better, she’s not ventured outside yet. I think the walk to church would probably be beyond her yet awhile.’

  ‘How is she in herself?’

  ‘Oh, still missing Grandmother and making everyone else suffer for it. Geraldine less than Linda and me,’ Jenny said. ‘But we cope.’

  ‘Will she mind my being here?’

  ‘She minds everything, Bob,’ Jenny said, knowing her mother would be furious that her permission had not been asked before Jenny invited Bob to bed down on her settee.

  ‘Would it be best if I left? I could always knock my mother up at home and come back later today.’

  ‘No, it wouldn’t be best,’ Jenny said hotly. ‘Not for me it wouldn’t. Mother’s not the only one in the house to be considered, you know.’

  ‘It was only a suggestion.’

  ‘Well, it was a very bad one,’ Jenny said. ‘Now, go to sleep for heaven’s sake, before the whole house is awake.’

  She left him then with a chaste and prudent peck on the cheek and made her stealthy way up the stairs, hoping she’d get in a few hours’ sleep before having to face her mother’s bad temper.

  ‘How dare you invite someone into the house at the dead of night without asking me?’ Norah shouted, almost incoherent with rage.

  ‘He isn’t someone, Mother. He’s Bob, and you’ve known him for years,’ Jenny said, her voice low and controlled. ‘I did tell you he was going to try and make it for Christmas Day, and when he did arrive, it was the early hours of the morning. You were asleep.’

  ‘That signifies nothing. You go behind my back, allowing him to stay the night without a word.’

  Jenny wondered how Bob was feeling hearing them row about him, for although they were both in her mother’s bedroom, she knew every word, certainly those her mother spat out, would be audible to him. She’d come straight into her mother’s room that morning, to explain what Bob was doing on the settee downstairs, to save her mother the shock of just finding him there. Maybe she should have said nothing. Good manners might have kept her mother quiet, at least until Bob had gone.

  Jenny swallowed down her irritation. It was Christmas Day and Bob was waiting for her downstairs. Now was not the time to engage in a slanging match with her mother.

  If Anthony hadn’t died, and there wasn’t a day gone by she didn’t miss him, she might never have met Bob and learned to love him. She went cold at the thought that she might never have known the lovely man who filled her with such intense desire. But now was not the time to say all this to her mother. Maybe the time would never be right; maybe she should just let her rant away and not answer back. It only prolonged things. Left to herself, even her mother would eventually run out of things to say. ‘I’ll go and make breakfast then, shall I?’ she asked, hoping to placate her mother.

  Norah glared at her. ‘Go then!’ she spat out. ‘I haven’t had a hint of an apology from you, nor have you bothered to enquire if I need a hand to get dressed!’

  Norah had been dressing herself for weeks now, with no help at all, and Jenny wondered with a heavy heart if she was sinking back into dependency again.

  ‘Not that I want your help, miss,’ Norah went on self-righteously. ‘You’ve made it quite clear that you consider me a burden, so I will struggle on alone.’

  Jenny felt so angry that her body burned with it, but she damped it down inside her, knowing that it would destroy the day and upset Bob if she were to unleash it at her mother. So without a word, she turned and left the room, without slamming the door, and went down to Bob.

  Bob looked at her as she entered the room. She crossed to him, put her arms around him and buried her head in his chest. ‘Darling, you’re shaking,’ he said gently.

  ‘I know. It’s how she gets me,’ Jenny choked.

  ‘I can understand it,’ Bob said with feeling. ‘I heard everything she said, and it isn’t just that, but how she says things.’

  Personally, he thought Jenny was a saint to put up with it, day in and day out. He’d been going out with Jenny four years now, and much of the anger and nastiness in the house had been glossed over when he’d been present, though he’d sensed it simmering under the surface. The sooner he got Jenny away from here the better, he decided.

  Jenny lifted her head and tried to calm herself down. She wouldn’t let herself cry, it would only upset Bob further. She saw his face working and knew he was angry, and so she said lightly, ‘Fold up the blankets, Bob, I’ll take them upstairs and then I’ll rustle us up some breakfast.’ She nudged him and went on, ‘I’ve got a bit of “under the counter” sausage as a treat, and by the way,’ and at this she stood on tiptoe and kissed his lips lightly, ‘Happy Christmas!’ she said.

  Norah started again at the breakfast-table when Bob and Jenny explained about the engagement and Jenny showed her the ring. Linda was awed by it glistening on Jenny’s finger and terribly happy for the two of them. She congratulated them both sincerely. Jenny knew if her mother hadn’t been at the table, as she’d taken to doing every day now, Linda would have probably thrown her arms around the two of them, but she was always constrained by Norah’s presence.

  Mrs O’Leary’s face was drawn into a thin line and two angry spots of colour appeared on her cheeks as she snapped. ‘So that’s the way it is now? You become engaged without seeking approval or permission?’ She’d never thought anyone would want to marry Jenny. She wouldn’t stand for it either, she decided. Just because she was better able to move around, Jenny imagined she could leave her to cope. Well, she thought, Jenny can think again. Her duty is to look after me. ‘She’s not going to swan off anywhere with anyone and leave me on my own,’ Norah muttered to herself. ‘And if that means I have to have a relapse and become helpless again, so be it.’

  Bob tried to pour oil on troubled waters, chatting pleasantly to Norah about this and that, and Norah allowed herself to be mollified. Once the young man had gone, she’d work on Jenny and show her plainly where her duty lay. Jenny was just glad her mother seemed to have accepted it at last. Geraldine said she should be more understanding, but Geraldine hadn’t got it to put up with day after day. So she listened to Bob soothing her mother’s ruffled feathers and blessed him for it. Later, helping her wash up the breakfast dishes, he confess
ed it had been like walking through a minefield.

  ‘You’re better at it than me at any rate,’ Jenny said. ‘It wears me down.’

  ‘I can well understand it,’ Bob said. He kissed the nape of her neck as she bent over the bowl and she shivered in delicious anticipation.

  ‘Oh Bob. I’m so lucky to have you here today,’ she said. ‘Some of the girls at work haven’t seen their husbands for years.’

  ‘I know,’ Bob agreed. ‘But I’m not going to spend my precious leave arguing with your mother, or allowing you to, or skirting around every topic as if we’re avoiding an unexploded bomb. After dinner we’re out of this. We’re expected at my mother’s for tea, but first we’ll have some time on our own.

  ‘We’re engaged,’ he said, catching her round the waist, ‘and it’s Christmas, the season of goodwill to all men. I’ve seen precious little of any goodwill you have towards me.’

  Jenny snuggled against him and said, ‘Let’s go somewhere private and I’ll show you as much goodwill as you like.’

  ‘Oh promises, promises Jenny O’Leary,’ Bob said, but he took her hand and headed towards Pype Hayes Park.

  On Boxing Day, for Bob had only managed a twenty-four-hour pass, Jenny and Linda went down to Maureen O’Leary’s. Linda had told them of the engagement the day before, but both Maureen and Peggy were keen to see the ring, which they both admired. ‘He’s begun making plans for after the war too,’ Jenny said proudly. ‘He knows now it’s only a matter of time till peace is declared and he’s written to the firm of architects he worked for before the war to see if his job has been kept open for him.’