by Lily Baxter
‘Did I leave my glasses case here, Sandra?’ She leaned over the counter, peering at the shelf beneath. ‘I can’t find them anywhere at home.’
Sandra rummaged beneath the counter and produced a leather case. ‘You’d lose your head if it wasn’t screwed on, Pam.’
‘Oh, goody,’ Pamela cried, snatching it from her. ‘I really must take better care of them.’
‘You shouldn’t be so vain.’ Sandra moved swiftly from behind the counter. ‘Anyway, while you’re here, I’ll slip out the back to the little girl’s room. I was going to go but we’ve got a customer. Not that she looks as though she’ll spend much.’
Susan had been hovering behind a stand of books in the hope that Pamela would not spot her, but as her colleague disappeared through the door at the back of the premises Pamela put on her glasses. ‘Susan! What on earth are you doing here?’
There was nothing for it but to brazen it out. ‘I came here to make a purchase, and that girl was quite rude.’
Pamela recoiled slightly, but made a quick recovery. ‘So are you going to buy anything, or did you just come in to get out of the cold?’
‘The book in the window,’ Susan said, pointing. ‘Jane’s book on aircraft. I’d like to see it, please.’
Pamela stared at her for a moment as if weighing up whether she was serious or merely being a nuisance, but the desire to make a sale obviously won as she moved to the window and picked up the book. ‘It’s expensive,’ she said curtly. ‘And not the sort of thing I’d expect a girl like you to read.’
Susan took it from her, handling it reverently. She loved books, and had spent many happy hours in the public library. This one was something special, and it still had a little of the delicious new book smell lingering between the pages. ‘I’ll take it.’
‘Oh.’ Pamela could not have looked more surprised if she had produced a rabbit out of a hat. ‘Well, I can’t wrap it. We have to save paper.’
‘That’s all right. I’ve got a basket.’ Susan slipped the book into her shopping basket. She could see that Pamela was dying to find out where she had been since she left the house, but she had no intention of satisfying her curiosity. She took her purse from her handbag and counted out the coins. ‘I think that’s right. Please check. I don’t want to be accused of dishonesty.’
Pamela made a show of counting it before ringing up the sale on the till. ‘You always had too much to say for yourself, Banks.’
‘I’m not your servant now,’ Susan said calmly. ‘I’m a customer and I don’t think Mr Margoles would take kindly to his staff being discourteous to someone who was prepared to spend money in his establishment. For all your airs and graces, Pamela, you’re just a shop assistant.’
‘You bitch.’ Pamela spat the words at her.
Susan walked to the door. ‘Your mother wouldn’t like you using that kind of language. By the way, how is your sister? Is she still engaged to that dreadful fellow?’
‘Yes. No thanks to you. Dudley told her that you’d led him on.’ She curled her lip. ‘As if a man like him would want anything to do with a slut like you.’
‘He’ll go for anything in a skirt, as I’m sure you know very well. I bet he tried it on with you a few times.’ Susan could tell by the dull flush that spread from Pamela’s neck to her plump cheeks that her suspicions were justified. ‘You too? Does that make you a slut like me, Pamela?’ She let herself out into the street and smiled as she heard a book hit the glass door and fall with a thud onto the mat. For the first time she had had the last word as far as the Kemps were concerned. It was a small victory, but it made her feel good. She walked homewards, still smiling.
She spent the rest of the day in a fever of anticipation. Would Tony still find her attractive? Or despite what his father said would he think she was just a silly girl who had lied to him? She was excited and nervous in equal parts. She had risen early and cleaned the flat from top to bottom, paying special attention to Tony’s somewhat Spartan bedroom. She had polished the furniture and swept the carpet, reaching under the bed to remove the dust bunnies. This accomplished, she had set about making up the bed with sheets that had been washed and hung on the line to dry. She smoothed them in place, inhaling the scent of frosty winter air and Oxydol soap powder that had permeated the starched cotton. She folded the material into crisp hospital corners as she had been taught in the orphanage, and finished by shaking up the satin-covered eiderdown. She stood back to admire her handiwork. She wanted above all things to make Tony’s homecoming special.
By mid-morning on Monday Susan had almost completed her preparations for the big day. The lounge was aired and warm with a log fire crackling in the grate. She had filled a vase with spice-scented chrysanthemums, and placed it on the sideboard next to a bowl of walnuts and almonds. She had found a nutcracker and a corkscrew in one of the drawers, and Dave had been to the off licence the previous evening and bought a bottle of sweet sherry and one of port to add to the festive spread. The decorated tree stood in the corner opposite the wireless, and a small sprig of mistletoe hung off the light shade in the centre of the room.
Susan was in the kitchen stirring batter for the toad-in-the-hole she was preparing for their midday meal, when she heard footsteps on the stairs. ‘Lunch won’t be ready for at least half an hour, Dave,’ she called, thinking that he must have mistaken the time.
He entered the kitchen looking distinctly harassed. ‘Susan, love. We’ve got a visitor.’
Pushing past him, a tall, broad-shouldered woman walked into the room. She wore an expensively tailored tweed suit and a hat modelled on a man’s trilby with a feather stuck in the brim. She stopped, staring hard at Susan. ‘So you’re the girl that my brother has taken in. He’s just been telling me about you.’
‘My sister, Maida,’ Dave said apologetically. ‘She’s come for Christmas after all.’
‘I’m afraid my stay will be a lot longer than that.’ Maida set her suitcase down on the floor, taking off her hat and balancing it on top of the baggage. ‘A gentleman would have carried this up all those stairs, but what can you expect of a younger brother?’ She pulled out a chair and sat down, peeling off her leather gloves. ‘I’ve been bombed out. Luckily for me I was working late at the school, marking exam papers, when the wretched thing hit my block of flats. It went down like a pack of cards. Nothing left.’
‘Oh, dear. How awful,’ Susan murmured. ‘Was anybody killed?’
‘Best not to dwell on it, I’d say. Dreadful things happening every day. Damn war.’ Maida turned to her brother. ‘Don’t just hover there like an idiot. Fetch me a drop of brandy. It’s been a gruelling couple of days. I slept in the staffroom at the school last night. After all, we have to keep calm and carry on.’
Dave hesitated in the doorway. ‘But what about Phyllis? Won’t she be disappointed that you’re not going to stay with her?’
Maida pursed her lips. ‘She’s taken up with an ARP warden chap. Apparently he knocked at the door to tell her off for not drawing the blackout curtains together properly, and now they’re practically inseparable. Stupid woman, you’d think she’d had enough of men the first time round. Stanley was a drinker,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘I wouldn’t have put up with him for five minutes.’
‘I’ll get the brandy,’ Dave said, heading off in the direction of the lounge.
‘So how long do you intend to take advantage of my brother’s good nature?’ Maida demanded, glaring fiercely at Susan.
Taken aback, Susan was temporarily bereft of speech.
‘Well, speak up, girl. You’ve got a tongue in your head, haven’t you?’
‘Yes, miss.’
‘My name is Miss Richards, and I can tell you now that I don’t approve of a girl your age living under the same roof as a widower.’
‘He’s been very kind to me, Miss Richards. It’s a purely business arrangement. I earn my keep.’
Maida looked around the kitchen and nodded her head. ‘I can see that, but people wi
ll talk. It’s not on, Susan.’
‘What isn’t on?’ Dave demanded, as he entered the room with the brandy bottle clutched in his hand. ‘What have you been saying to her, Maida?’
Automatically, Susan reached into the cupboard for a wine glass. She placed it on the table in front of Maida. ‘Miss Richards thinks that people will get the wrong impression, Dave.’
‘Dave!’ Maida’s dark eyebrows shot up to meet her hairline. ‘A girl of your age should address my brother as Mr Richards.’ She snatched the bottle from his hand and pulled out the cork. ‘I’m surprised at you, David Richards. How could you allow a situation such as this to develop?’ She poured a generous tot into the glass and downed it in one gulp.
‘No. Really, Maida. It’s not what you think. If you’ll just calm down we’ll fill you in on all the details, and when you hear Susan’s story I’m sure you’ll be more than sympathetic.’
‘You always were a soft touch, David. Don’t forget I teach sixth-formers. I’m used to sorting out the fact from the fiction.’ Maida rose from the chair and picked up her gloves and handbag. ‘I’ll use Tony’s room. I’m sure he won’t mind sleeping in the boxroom.’
‘But that’s Susan’s room,’ Dave said uneasily, ‘and Tony’s coming home for Christmas.’
‘That’s not my problem.’ Maida marched out of the kitchen. ‘You can’t expect me to sleep on that lumpy settee, not with my bad back and sciatica. Bring my suitcase, David, there’s a good chap.’
He turned to Susan with his hands held palms upward in a helpless gesture. ‘She’s a strong-minded woman, is Maida. But don’t worry, dear. I’ll have a word with her when she’s calmed down and recovered from the shock of the bombing and everything. She’s not a bad sort when you get to know her.’
Susan opened her mouth to tell him that she would look for another job as soon as Christmas was over, but he looked so upset and sheepish that she had not the heart to add to his problems. ‘We’ll manage, Dave,’ she said softly.
A shriek from the bedroom made them both jump. Dave rushed out of the room. ‘What’s the matter, Maida? What is it?’
Susan hurried after him and was almost bowled over by Charlie, who raced out of Tony’s room as if the devil himself was after him. He tore along the narrow passageway with his ears flattened to his head, and came to a halt, cringing at her feet and gazing up at her with limpid brown eyes. A piece of mangled felt and a feather hung from his mouth. ‘Oh, Charlie,’ she whispered, ‘what have you done?’
Maida emerged from the room holding up the tattered remnants of her trilby. ‘That evil brute has ruined my one and only remaining hat. This cost me a fortune in Penberthy’s and he has ripped it to pieces. I want you both out of here now. This moment. Right away.’
Chapter Six
‘I’ll buy you another hat, Maida.’ Dave had his back to Susan but she could see his shoulders shaking and when he turned to look at her he was grinning from ear to ear.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Susan said, keeping a straight face with difficulty. The enormity of what Charlie had done was not lost on her, but she could see the funny side of things and Dave was not helping.
‘This was a model hat.’ Maida tossed the soggy mass onto the floor so that it landed at her brother’s feet. ‘It cost me a week’s wages and now it’s ruined, thanks to that creature from hell. I’ve always disliked dogs and that one is a little beast.’
Charlie looked up at Susan and wagged his tail. She bent down and seized him by the collar. ‘I’ll shut him in my room.’
‘It won’t be yours when my nephew arrives home,’ Maida said angrily. ‘You can’t expect him to sleep on the settee.’
‘Now, now, Maida.’ Dave advanced on her as warily as a lion tamer facing an angry big cat in the circus ring. ‘Don’t get in a state. Tony won’t mind where he lays his head, so that’s not a problem, and I said I’ll stump up for another titfer. I suggest you take it easy until lunch is ready. It won’t be long, will it, Susan?’
‘It will be ready at one o’clock, as usual.’
Dave shot her a grateful smile. ‘There you are, Maida. This girl’s got me organised and eating regular as clockwork. She’s a smashing little cook and she makes a scrummy suet pud.’
‘Spare me the schoolboy slang,’ Maida said, sighing. ‘I suppose a bath is out of the question?’
Dave nodded. ‘Sorry, love. We had our five inches of hot water last night.’ He flushed from his collar to the top of his bald pate. ‘Separately, of course.’
‘Don’t be smutty, David.’ Maida turned her back on him. ‘I suppose a strip wash will have to do. Call me when lunch is ready.’ She retreated into the bedroom and closed the door.
Dave looked so embarrassed that Susan felt sorry for him. ‘I’ll have to find another place to live soon,’ she said softly. ‘Your sister doesn’t approve of me, and Charlie hasn’t made a good impression. I’m really sorry about the hat.’ She was still holding Charlie by the collar, but on hearing his name he decided to lie down and waggle his short legs in the air, offering his tummy for a tickle. She released him and he leapt up totally unabashed and unaware of the trouble he had caused.
Dave bent down to pick up the mangled hat. ‘She’ll get over it, and I won’t hear talk about you leaving. This is your home, Susan. Maida will just have to get used to the idea.’
‘I don’t want to cause a rift in your family, and I don’t want to ruin Tony’s leave. He should have my room when he comes home.’
‘Don’t worry about him. I’m sure he’ll be okay on the sofa for a couple of nights, and Maida will find a place of her own before the start of the spring term. She won’t want to commute every day from here to Hackney.’ With an attempt at a reassuring smile, he turned on his heel and headed for the staircase.
Susan was not convinced by his reasoning, but to prevent any further upsets she took Charlie to her room. She was relieved that Maida had turned her nose up at the boxroom, but she worried about what Tony would say when he arrived home. It was one thing to be ousted from his bed by his aunt, but he might not be so happy when he discovered that the girl who had pretended to live in the posh house in Elsworthy Road was now occupying the spare room. In all fairness, she decided, if anyone should sleep on the sofa it ought to be her. The thought of Tony occupying her bed was acceptable, if not slightly erotic. She felt herself blushing at the thought, and with a final pat on Charlie’s head she left him, feeling extremely mean when he tried to follow her and she was forced to shut the door on him. His soulful expression haunted her as she finished preparing lunch.
It was an uncomfortable meal. Dave was unusually silent but Maida talked incessantly, pausing briefly while she ate and then continuing a monologue that went on uninterrupted through the main course followed by the dessert of stewed apple and custard. Having consumed everything with gusto, she dabbed her lips with a napkin. ‘You must have used up half your weekly milk ration in one meal. Don’t you think that was a bit extravagant?’
She was looking at her brother but the criticism was obviously aimed at Susan. She stood up and began clearing the table. ‘I balance it out carefully,’ she said, forcing herself to remain calm. ‘And I used half milk and half water for the batter.’
Dave cleared his throat nervously. ‘Susan knows what she’s doing when it comes to cooking. I’ve never eaten so well in years.’
‘Well, Christine was an excellent cook,’ Maida said, seemingly determined to have the last word. ‘She may have been a scatterbrain, but she was good in the kitchen.’
‘I’ve got to get back to the shop.’ Dave leapt to his feet, pushing his chair back so that it scraped across the linoleum. ‘I’ll see you girls later.’ He hurried off without giving his sister a chance to comment.
Maida rose more slowly. ‘I’ll take my coffee in the lounge. Unless it’s that bottled stuff, in which case I’ll have a cup of tea. Milk. No sugar.’ She swept out of the kitchen leaving Susan to do the washing-up. It was, she thought, jus
t like old times, only now it was Maida who was calling the shots and not Mrs Kemp.
She had just finished washing the cutlery when Dave slipped back into the room with an apologetic grin. He picked up a tea towel but Susan took it from him, shaking her head. ‘It’s all right,’ she said, smiling. ‘I can manage. Maybe it would be best if you went and sat with your sister for a while before you go down to the shop. She must feel a bit down after being bombed out.’
‘You’re right, of course. But I don’t want you to feel that you have to wait on her hand and foot. You’re not a servant here, Susan. I hope you know that.’
She patted his hand, leaving a slippery trail of soap suds on his fingers. ‘Of course I do. You’ve been like a dad to me, and I’ll always be grateful.’
‘I hope you didn’t take any notice of what Maida said just now. I mean, I never thought about you in that way.’ A telltale flush suffused his face and he pulled a hanky out of his pocket and began polishing his glasses. ‘If I had a daughter, Susan, I’d want her to be just like you.’ He replaced his spectacles and moved towards the doorway. ‘I’ll take Charlie for a walk when I close the shop this evening. Poor little chap; he must think he’s in prison.’
