by Anna King
‘That’s right, Maggie, I told yer, she’s mad, barmy. Said if yer was one of Harry’s friends, yer probably had a do…’ His face reddened as he recalled the unpleasant scene.
‘A what, Charlie? Come on, finish the sentence,’ Maggie demanded, her voice weak but firm.
Hanging his head Charlie mumbled, ‘She said yer probably had a dose of the clap.’ When he saw the look that passed over Maggie’s face he leant forward, his face earnest, saying quickly, ‘Now, don’t go getting yerself upset. I told her, she ain’t right in the head. She’s been hanging round Harry’s building site playing up ter his men. Coo, yer should have seen Harry drag her away, I thought she was gonna claw his eyes out. There’s no love lost between those two even if they are brother and sister, and I don’t think the rest of the family likes her much either.’
Maggie’s face bore a look of puzzlement, her fogged mind trying to digest what Charlie had told her. The picture Charlie had painted of the sister didn’t match the woman who had been so kind to her during her illness, so who was the mysterious lady? She must be someone very close to Harry or Hugh to have taken on the task of ministering to a complete stranger. No woman would do all that she had unless it was on behalf of someone she cared deeply for. She felt her heart begin to beat erratically and plucking at the sheet she spoke softly.
‘So who’s the woman that’s been looking after me. It can’t be their sister, not after what you’ve said about her. Is she Harry’s wife? Is that why she’s been coming here? I mean I don’t care, but…’
Charlie laughed delightedly. He’d been right all along – Maggie did care for Harry. Even during the times she didn’t seem to know what was happening round her, she’d clung to Harry every time he’d called.
Grinning broadly he answered, ‘She’s Hugh’s fiancée, they’re getting married next year. She’s lovely, she is, Miss Lotte. She’s a nursing sister at the hospital where Hugh works. If it hadn’t been for her, you’d have had to go into hospital, ’cos none of us men could have looked after yer like she did. Well, it wouldn’t have been right, would it?’
Maggie felt a wave of relief flood through her body, then, realising she had given her true feelings away, she said dryly, ‘You’ve got very chummy with them, haven’t you? What happened to Mr Hugh and Mr Harry? It’s all first names now, is it?’
‘Aw, Maggie,’ Charlie smiled at her, ‘I couldn’t keep on calling them mister, not after all the months they’ve been coming here. And anyway, they both asked me to call them by their first names.’
A jolt of surprise jerked Maggie’s body upright in the bed, and her face ashen, she repeated, ‘Months? You said they’ve been coming here for months? What… I mean how long… Oh God!’ She suddenly noticed how hot it was in the bedroom, even though there was no evidence of a fire. Lizzie had been buried in April and judging by the warmth of the room it must be mid-summer now.
Her whole body shaking in alarm she whispered, ‘What day is it, Charlie? I mean exactly what day and month is it?’
Charlie screwed his eyes up, trying to think.
‘Well, I ain’t sure exactly, but it’s nearly the end of August.’ When he saw the look of fear that came over her face he grabbed her hand, crying, ‘Oh, don’t look like that, Maggie. Who cares what month it is? All that matters is that you’re well again.’ Smoothing the coverlet into place he took the tray from her lap and walked towards the door.
‘I can’t wait ter see Harry’s face when he comes round; he’s been really worried about yer. Now, get some rest, I’ll let yer know when he gets here.’
‘Charlie, wait a minute. Do they all come round every day?’
‘Gawd, no. Hugh and Miss Lotte work at the hospital all week, and they normally come round at the weekend. Although they do sometimes come in the evening, it all depends on how you’ve been. Harry comes every day though; he has his dinner here with me before going back to work. Now, get some rest; you want ter look yer best when he comes, don’t yer,’ he said gaily, a devilish smile playing round his lips.
Left alone Maggie sank back on the pillows once more, her eyes clouded with uncertainty. Did she really want to get involved with Harry again? That way lay only pain and disappointment, but could she live her life never setting eyes on his face again? God she was tired, but she couldn’t lie here else she’d fall asleep, and she wanted to be up and dressed when he arrived. Taking a deep breath she got out of bed, careful not to move too quickly. She stood for a few minutes, then, when she was confident she wouldn’t fall, she walked unsteadily over to the sideboard where the jug and pitcher stood and began to wash herself.
* * *
Later that evening when she was feeling more like her old self, Maggie again sat Charlie down to go over all that happened since her illness. Carefully hiding his impatience, the young boy repeated all he had already told her, adding bits of information he had earlier omitted. When he had finished Maggie shook her head in bewilderment, still not believing that such a lot could have happened without her being aware of it
‘I’ve heard of people like me,’ she said at last. ‘You know, people who lose part of their lives. It’s got a special name. Am… amnes, oh, something like that – but I never thought it could happen to me.’
‘Hugh said it’s quite common, especially if the person’s had a bad shock.’ Screwing up his face in an effort to remember Hugh’s exact words, Charlie added, ‘He said it’s the mind’s way of dealing with things that yer don’t want ter remember. Like something really bad that’s happened and yer mind can’t cope with it, so it just sort of shuts off. Either that or yer go stark, raving mad.’
‘Thanks, love, I really needed to hear that,’ Maggie said wryly.
‘But yer didn’t go mad, did yer? You’re too strong to let that happen. It must have been awful… I mean finding Liz lying in the road like yer did. And then that bugger trying ter… well, you know what I mean. It’d be enough ter turn anyone’s brain. Anyway, you’re better now, and you haven’t got that amines… or whatever it’s called. If you had you wouldn’t be able to remember anything, and you are starting to remember, aren’t yer?’ he asked, his face anxious.
Waving a hand at him Maggie hastened to put his mind at ease, ‘Don’t worry, it’s starting to come back to me, but in sort of fragments, like in a dream. Do you understand what I mean, Charlie?’
‘Well, not really, Maggie,’ he answered doubtfully; then, his face brightening, he added, ‘But it doesn’t matter, ’cos you’re better now, and I’m gonna take care of yer, so you don’t have ter worry abaht nothing.’
Maggie smiled tiredly, he was a good lad. Looking closer at him she saw suddenly that he was no longer a boy. What was he now? Thirteen, 14? Of course, he was 14, he’d left school just after Christmas – fancy her forgetting that.
There was something else nagging at her mind; then she remembered. ‘Charlie,’ She said his name almost fearfully. ‘Charlie, love, what happened to the money? I had a lot of money with me when we left home, have you got it? Is that what we’ve been living on all these months?’
Charlie sprang to his feet. ‘Gawd, I nearly forgot about that. Hang on, I’ll get it for yer.’ He was only gone a few minutes before returning with a small, black tin box. Dropping to his knees he placed the box on the floor.
‘It’s all in here, Maggie,’ he cried happily, his fingers turning the metal key in the lock. ‘Miss Lotte found a wad of notes down the front of yer blouse when she undressed yer. She gave it ter me and Harry brought this box round ter keep it in. He asked me if I wanted him ter put it in the bank, but I said no to that idea. I’d rather have me money where I can see it – I mean your money, Maggie,’ he added shamefacedly.
Reaching out her arm she gently stroked his hair. ‘It’s our money now, love, yours and mine,’ she said softly, her eyes filling with tears as she recalled how carefully Liz had saved for the baby. The memory of Jimmy lying flat on his back sprang to mind and she shivered. Then straightening her back s
he stuck her chin out defiantly. She wasn’t sorry she had taken the money from him. He’d never done anything to earn it, but there remained a small niggle of fear that he would come looking for her. Something Charlie had said earlier came back to her, and putting her hand under his chin, she raised his face to hers. ‘You said that Harry would see that Jimmy wouldn’t bother me any more. Did you tell him what happened that night?’
Charlie lowered his eyes dejectedly, ‘I didn’t mean ter tell him, but he kept on at me. Yer know what he’s like. He could worm the knickers off a nun if he wanted to.’ Suppressing a smile she let her hand fall to her lap.
‘It’s all right, I’m not having a go at you. I just wanted to know exactly what you told him.’
Glad that she wasn’t angry at him, Charlie fingered the box, wondering if he dared ask the question that had been preying bn his mind since Lotte had discovered the money. His voice hesitant, he asked, ‘There’s a lot of money here, Maggie, over £80; I counted it. Is it all yours? I mean, that is ter say, I didn’t know you had that much. Is some of it Lizzie’s? Is that why there’s such a lot?’
Maggie looked into the pleading eyes and said harshly, ‘Yes, some of it belonged to Lizzie, and I’m not ashamed of taking it. That filthy swine had no right to it. I might have left him something if he hadn’t…
hadn’t…’
Quick as a flash Charlie was on his feet, his arm going firmly round her shaking shoulder. Pulling her to his chest he said huskily, ‘It’s all right, Maggie, it’s all right. I’m glad yer took it, yer deserve the money. And I’m glad I bashed the bugger over the head; pity I didn’t do it sooner. Now, dry yer eyes, Harry’ll be here soon, and I don’t want him ter see yer looking upset.’
Giving her a final squeeze he picked up the box and walked with it into the scullery, there to put it back in its hiding place behind a loose brick under the stove, while in the other room Maggie sat waiting for Harry to arrive.
* * *
When Harry walked into the room, Maggie was sitting in the faded, embossed armchair, her hair tied back with a blue ribbon that matched the blue and white sprigged dress she was wearing. Charlie was standing protectively by her side, a soppy grin on his young face.
‘Well, whadya think, Harry?’ he asked of the tall, well-dressed man who stood open-mouthed in the doorway. ‘Came round all of a sudden she did, just as I was giving her her breakfast. I told her ter stay in bed, but she didn’t take no notice of me. Wanted to get herself pretty for yer, I expect, she…’
‘Charlie!’ Maggie admonished, her pale cheeks reddening in confusion. Trying to regain a normal attitude she turned to Harry, saying softly, ‘Please come in and make yourself comfortable, Mr Stewart, Charlie was just about to make some tea.’ Taking the hint, Charlie raised his eyebrows in Harry’s direction and turned to leave.
‘Just a minute, Charlie, I’ve brought some pie and peas,’ Harry called after him. Then coming nearer to where Maggie sat, he leaned forward and said laughingly, ‘I’ve become quite accustomed to pie and peas over the past few months, that and fish and chips. I’ve even toyed with the idea of opening a shop to cater for them. A person could make a fortune out of such an establishment, especially if that person had the foresight to provide tables and chairs where their customers could eat their meals in comfort instead of out of a paper bag.’ The moment the words were out of his mouth he cursed himself for a babbling fool. The idea of setting Maggie and Charlie up in a shop near the building site had been forming in his mind for quite a while. He had long wished for such a place for his men, and of course having Maggie near would be a bonus. He had meant to wait until she had fully recovered before putting the idea to her, but the shock of seeing her waiting for him had caused him to act like an awkward child, blurting out the first thing that came to mind.
An uncomfortable silence settled on the room, broken only by the sound of Charlie whistling happily in the scullery as he busied himself making tea. Seating himself in the armchair opposite Maggie, he sat awkwardly on the edge of the seat, his fingers drumming nervously on his knees. Maggie saw his discomfort and relaxed her head against the back of the chair. The effort of getting herself washed and dressed had tired her, even her arms ached from the simple act of brushing her hair.
Anxious to put him at ease, she smiled at him, saying, ‘I believe I owe you a great debt of gratitude, Mr Stewart, and your brother and his fiancee of course. Charlie has told me how you’ve all cared for me, and I can’t begin to tell you how grateful I am. Without your help I would have ended up in a mental asylum, and you know yourself, once someone goes into one of those places they very rarely come out again.’
The sound of the formal, stilted words tore at Harry’s heart, that and the fact she had gone back to calling him Mister. Her words were undoubtedly sincere, but there was no warmth in her voice. Obviously he was no longer wanted or needed, and the knowledge brought a great sadness on him. He had imagined that once she was recovered – and he’d had no doubt that she would recover – that they could pick up the threads of friendship once more, and in time… Well, clearly that wasn’t going to happen. He felt hurt, hurt and angry. Angry with himself for expecting her to fall into his arms in gratitude, and angry that he had allowed himself to fall in love with her. Raising his eyes to hers he started to speak then stopped as his breath caught in his throat. There may have been no warmth in her tone, but it was there in her eyes, and once again a feeling of optimism rose inside his chest. Remembering their last meeting in the park he warned himself to go carefully; he didn’t want to alienate himself from her again.
Clearing his throat he said cheerfully, ‘Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes and no mistake. You’ve had us all worried, I can tell you. Do you think you could manage more visitors? Because when I tell Hugh and Lotte you’re up and about I doubt if I will be able to keep them away.’
Maggie too was trying to keep her true feelings under control. Part of her was saying that the man sitting opposite must care very deeply for her to have done what he had, but the cautious part of her mind told her to take one step at a time and see how things worked out.
‘Please, I’d love to see Hugh and his fiancee. She must be a remarkable woman to have spent so much of her free time with a complete stranger. Charlie tells me that if she hadn’t looked after my… well, my personal needs, I… I…’ Her voice faltered, the blood rushing to her pale cheeks as she realised what she had said. Thoroughly embarrassed, she fixed her eyes on the empty fire grate, expelling a silent sigh of relief as Charlie came back into the room.
‘’Ere we are, grub’s up,’ he said cheerfully. ‘It’s still hot, I stuck it in the oven while I made the tea. Do yer want ter eat it at the table, Maggie, I can get yer a plate if yer wants. Me and Harry usually eat it outa the paper bag; it tastes better like that, don’t it, Harry?’
Glad of the diversion Maggie looked up at Charlie and said dryly, ‘Your grammar seems to have slipped while I’ve been lying idle. I’ll have to take you in hand, young man. I don’t want all my good work going to waste.’
‘Aw, Maggie, now I know you’re getting better.’ Inclining his head towards Harry he said wistfully, ‘She thinks I’m gonna end up being a lawyer or some sort of businessman. I keep telling her, my place is in the markets where I feel at home, but she keeps on at me.’ Screwing up his face he mimicked her voice, ‘Mind your aitches, Charlie, speak properly, Charlie.’
‘And you can mind your manners as well, young man,’ Maggie retorted, enjoying the repartee. ‘I’m not so weak that I can’t clump you one,’
‘Ooh, that’s posh, ain’t it, Harry?’ came the sharp reply, causing them all to laugh loudly.
‘Well, seeing as we’re all being common, I’ll have my dinner out of a paper bag. But don’t think you’ve heard the last of this conversation, Charlie, me lad. I’ll speak to you later.’
Again they all laughed before turning their attention to the appetising wrapped parcels on their laps. When the pape
r bags lay screwed up on the floor and last of the tea had been drunk, Harry rose reluctantly to his feet.
‘Much as I hate to leave, I’d better be getting back to the site. Most of my men will return to work after dinner without my presence, but it doesn’t hurt to keep them on their toes.’
‘Is the work on the buildings nearly finished?’ Maggie asked, seeking some pretext to keep him with her a while longer. Indicating his fawn trousers and dark brown jacket she added lamely, ‘What I mean is, Charlie told me you usually work alongside your men, and I don’t think the clothes you’re wearing are suitable for manual labour.’
Placing his shiny bowler hat squarely on his head he answered, ‘Good Lord, no, I don’t expect them to be finished before March next year – that’s if my schedule goes according to plan. Then of course there’s the windows and doors to be fitted, and the plumbing; that’s always a major job. After all those jobs have been completed, I’ll have the unenviable task of finding enough decent, second-hand furniture to fill the rooms I’ve so proudly boasted about.’
‘We could help, couldn’t we, Maggie? Well, I know a lot of blokes who deal in second-hand furniture. And I’d make sure it was decent stuff, no rubbish, and I’d get a fair price for you too.’
Charlie’s face was alive with enthusiasm at the prospect of helping this man he had grown so attached to. Harry rubbed his chin thoughtfully. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to get Charlie working for him. If his other plan didn’t work out it would enable him to keep in contact with Maggie. Besides, he was genuinely fond of the young boy.
Holding out his hand he said briskly, ‘I’ll bear your offer in mind, Charlie. In fact you could say we have a deal. Now I really must be off.’ Turning back to Maggie he asked, ‘Do you really think you’re well enough to see Hugh and Lotte tonight? I can always put them off until you’re feeling stronger.’
