Unforgettable

by Gloria Cook

  A woman appeared in the doorway at the side of the house. She had a lot of backside and frontage, all jouncing about under a full well-worn paisley apron, a waist-length cardigan apparently made from unpicked former knits, a dress that appeared to have once been curtain material, no stockings and dusty, clumpy shoes. Mrs R’s declaration that the Vercoe women were adept seamstresses had not provided this woman with any fashion sense. She wore thick-rimmed glasses and had masses of dark-honey hair. She was hefting a washing basket – flasket, she would call it – containing a mountain of wet laundry.

  ‘Morning to ’ee, my bird,’ she grinned, and the pleasantry caused her to lose her frumpy image. Finn was drawn to her motherly persona and wished his own mother were more like this woman. ‘I wondered what started the dog off. Quiet girl, quiet, Tufty!’ Obediently, Tufty trotted off back to her scrapyard kennel. ‘That’s better. We can hear ourselves think now. Something I can do for ’ee, my handsome?’

  ‘I’m here to see Mr Vercoe,’ Finn said politely.

  ‘Aw, he’s somewhere about here. Be in for his crib in a minute. Go on inside and wait for him, while I hang this lot out. Can’t keep to one washday with my brood. My eldest daughter Jenna’s in the kitchen. Go in and talk to her, through this door. Don’t be shy, we’re a friendly lot here.’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Vercoe,’ Finn replied, smiling for he was sure he was going to feel at home here. Miss Verity had talked about her happy reunion with the Vercoes, calling them the salt of the earth, and adding it was a pity the earth wasn’t filled with people just like them.

  While Jean Vercoe went round the back of the house, Finn sauntered over the high threshold straight into the large kitchen, one of the house’s extensions. His lingering smile drained away. From bending over a treadle sewing machine beside one of the wide windows a girl of about fifteen years looked up at him. He was met with the beady stare of Jenna Vercoe, a girl he realized he’d come across before on the high street of Wadebridge, a girl and her friends that he and his schoolmates had openly jeered at for coming from an inferior background. ‘Not even good enough to be oiks!’ Finn had smirked, entering the verbal abuse. His behaviour had been cruel and immature and now it made him cringe.

  ‘Oh . . .’ Finn could have faced her better if she hurled scathing remarks at him about his enormous comedown, but Jenna Vercoe merely gazed at him as if he was something no one desired to find on the bottom of their shoe. ‘Um, your mother told me to come straight in and . . . and wait for your father. I’ve come to see him,’ Finn ended lamely.

  Jenna took her time repositioning a loose cover of thick beige material under the machine needle. Crammed on the floor about her feet were baskets of cloth oddments. A box of rag dolls was waiting to be dressed and receive their facial features. Without looking at him again, but giving an uninterested shrug, she said in her soft Cornish accent, something Finn had ridiculed her for, ‘Sit and wait then.’

  Aggression he could cope with but he hated being made to feel a fool. A worm of uncertainty dragged down uncomfortably in his stomach and he went to up her. ‘I, um, owe you an apology for the time we met before.’

  She flew to her feet, startling Finn. ‘I don’t want your apology. It would mean nothing to either of us.’

  Finn’s brows shot up to his scalp. It was like being challenged by a wild cat, a wild cat with blazing dark eyes, yet he noticed she had a pretty nose and delicate ears. He was further forward with girls than most of his peers. He had looked them over with a male’s appreciative eyes from the age of twelve, and at his sixteenth birthday dinner party, an older woman guest, strategically invited by his father because her husband might make a useful business contact, had got him out into the dark garden and instructed him on how to lose his virginity. The flames of need had flared in him again when he met Belle, but that was more than lust. He needed to see her again like he needed breath in his body. Once he got a pram for Eloise – please God let it be here today he got a pram – he would soon stride out with her to The Orchards. The confidence gained from his sexual encounter had fed his natural arrogance, but gazing at Jenna now, he sensed behind her understandable anger at him that his jibes had hurt her. Her hostility with him was his just due. ‘It might not mean anything to you, Jenna, but I really am sorry. It’s one good thing that’s come out of my family’s fall from grace, that I see myself for the ignorant, big-headed sod that I was.’

  ‘Good,’ she said simply. ‘I’d rather get on with my work but it’s not my family’s way to be inhospitable. Sit down. I’ll start on the crib. Like fennel tea? We keep proper tea only for weekends and special occasions.’

  ‘Mrs Resterick has brought over some herb brews for my mother and me, so that’s fine, thanks. Your job is a seamstress?’

  ‘Yes, since I left school last year at fourteen. No possibility of college for me,’ Jenna remarked, with an edge of regret.

  Finn nodded in empathy. ‘Nor me now.’ He studied the banquet-sized oilcloth covered table to decide the best place for him to sit.

  ‘Sit anywhere, we don’t charge,’ Jenna said drily. ‘Father sits at the head; park yourself on the next chair so you can talk.’

  ‘I’ve come about getting a pram for my baby sister, Eloise,’ Finn tried, thinking that surely this would soften Jenna. He didn’t want her to tell her father about his insulting rudeness and be hauled out by the dealer who, by all accounts, was always ready to protect his family with his bellowing roar and, if need be, his fists. ‘I understand there are some young children here.’

  ‘There is, my youngest brothers, twins Frank and Jake, are down for their morning nap. How’s your mother? I’ve heard you’re doing a good job caring for the baby,’ Jenna said, and Finn felt she was interested but not in a nosey way.

  ‘And you’ve brothers and sisters at school?’

  ‘Maia, Meg, Susie and Adrian.’ Jenna put a plate of rock buns on the table and stared at Finn. ‘And . . .?’

  ‘I wasn’t going to dodge your questions, Jenna. My mother is getting better very, very slowly but Eloise is fine, a little small still, but Nurse Rumford says she’s strong and will thrive. I was terrified the first night I looked after her on my own. I sat up all night in low candlelight and tried to stay awake but I nodded off. I heard Eloise murmur and woke up and looked into her cradle.’ Finn couldn’t bring himself to admit she had first slept in a drawer. ‘She wasn’t there and panic went through me like a bolt of lightning. Then I felt something move on my shoulder. It was Eloise. I’d forgotten she’d been fretting and I’d picked her up and cuddled her. She’s practically weightless and it was lucky I didn’t drop her in relief. I never thought I’d be changing nappies and not find it disgusting at my age,’ he finished with a proud laugh.

  Jenna faced him squarely. ‘Well, I’m not sure if I like you yet but I admire what you’re doing. Most people round here do.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Finn felt a little more at ease. He hoped to redeem himself fully with Jenna. She had not fired personal questions at him so she wasn’t a gossip. It would be good to have a friend on the same level, understanding babies, and knowing what it was like to be unable to fulfil your potential. ‘Do you know if your father has a pram for sale, Jenna?’

  ‘I’m sure he’ll be able to fix you up. Ah, here he comes now, and Sam Lawry’s with him. Have you met Sam yet?’

  The last person in the world Finn wanted to meet was Sam Lawry. He didn’t want to be reminded that Belle was a mother and a married woman. It made her more inaccessible to him. But five minutes later he was seated round the table with the other youth, who was annoyingly chatty, intelligent and the sort who fitted in everywhere. He was tow-haired, presumably inheriting this from his father, but his eyes shone with the clear brownness of Belle’s beautiful eyes. Finn resented him for his very existence. And there was the full compliment of the Vercoes who were currently at home. Presiding in the carver chair at the head of the vast table was bull-necked, heavy-footed Denny, with the build of a heavyw
eight boxer and a full brownish, red-streaked moustache, dominating the room like a lion. His thick lips had a perpetual jovial smile and he joked endlessly, having welcomed Finn to ‘my humble little abode’ with a thudding handshake. However, his heavily hooded eyes were so piercing that Finn sensed Denny could swiftly turn to bellowing anger.

  Finn and Sam were ushered by Denny to sit next to him on either side of the table. ‘The male end!’ Denny had jested loudly, slapping down his palm and making the mugs and teaspoons shudder and chink. ‘Tuck into the buns, you boys,’ he chuckled, as loudly as a waterfall. ‘Food’s on the table to be eaten, not to be longed for. The Lord’ll provide the next meal, and if He doesn’t well it don’t hurt to go with an hungry belly every now and ’gain, eh?’

  Jenna was sitting down the other end with Jean, who was gaily breastfeeding the twins, roughly a year old. Finn begrudged Sam his comfortable acceptance of Mrs Vercoe’s large pendulous bare breasts, whipped out from under her clothing. Finn kept his eyes rooted to Denny’s end of the table.

  ‘Right, let’s get to business, Finn. You want a pram and you’ve brought something to barter with. I’ve got just the very one for you, only got un last week as part of a house contents sale. Built before the war but in bran’ spanking condition, barely a scratch or dent on un. I could get ten bob for un. What’s in your parcel?’

  Finn had to clear his throat – horribly embarrassed that Sam Lawry was witnessing his bartering with someone else’s junk. ‘My landlord said I could take the small odds and ends lying about Merrivale, candlesticks and stuff.’ He mumbled, red-faced at the end, ‘Hope it’s enough. I’ve cleaned and polished everything.’

  ‘Should be, I’d say,’ Denny said, rubbing his meaty hairy paws in relish. ‘Old Elvira White kept a good house in her day. Tip it out on the table. There could be silver in them candlesticks,’ he roared in mirth, accenting like a Wild West prospector. Sam and Jean laughed with him. Finn snatched a glance at Jenna. She was sipping her fennel tea, looking over the mug’s rim at him with sympathy. Finn felt some relief that it seemed he had made a friend of Jenna, but he hated Sam for laughing at his expense, even though it was not unkind laughter.

  Placing his parcel down in the space Denny had made for it, Finn untied the string and carefully lifted back the brown paper flaps. Some of the items he had brought were wrapped in lining paper from an odd roll he had found in a cupboard. Together he and Denny revealed the lot.

  ‘Wow, some of this stuff is lovely,’ Sam whistled through his teeth.

  Finn narrowed his eyes and thought Sam had sounded like a girl. Keep your bloody nose out, he seethed inwardly.

  Denny picked up the pair of candlesticks and studied them. ‘Silver alright, hallmarked.’ He turned over two porcelain trinket boxes, some odd silver spoons, a heavy glass ashtray, and a pince-nez. He perched the pince-nez on his long nose and looked like a peculiar owl. Jenna giggled. ‘I remember the old dear wearing these,’ Denny sniggered. ‘Mean old cow, she was, wouldn’t give you the smell of her farts!’

  Everyone fell about laughing, and even Finn at last fully relaxed. ‘The lot is worth more than ten bob, wouldn’t you say, Mr Vercoe?’ Finn ventured. He was sure his bundle was worth a lot more but Eloise must have a pram, it was a necessity, and he did not want to antagonize his host.

  Denny put the weight of his hand on Finn’s shoulder and squeezed it friendly-style. ‘Much more than that, boy. I give a fair price and it’s not pride on my part to say Denny Vercoe can be trusted to his last word. Come with me to the shed. I’ll show you the pram and you might like to look over some of my other goods; got more in the old forge. If nothing else takes your fancy then the rest of our deal will be in good hard cash. I’ll bring the pram over to your place in my van, wouldn’t want you pushing it home and looking like a sissy!’

  Twenty minutes later Finn left By The Way, pleased with the deal he had made with Denny, privately between the two of them, but miffed that Sam Lawry had declared he was going home and would walk with him to the crossroads. Although confident Mrs R would have duly arrived and taken charge of Eloise, Finn was eager to get home, hoping to find Guy Carthewy had left. It was obvious he was in love with Fiona, and Finn was worried Carthewy would try to fast-track his mother into a relationship with him, using security as bait. Fiona could not cope with more confusion. Finn strode along with his hands stuffed in his pockets, only speaking after Sam did.

  ‘It’s nice to have someone my own age nearby in the village.’

  ‘Is it?’

  ‘Well, there’s a few other chaps but they’ve more or less gone their own way. Some have gone into apprenticeships, one or two have moved away. I’ve gone into the family business, of course. Same as Jenna has, following her mother’s trade.’

  ‘Really.’

  ‘Are you wondering why I was at the Vercoes?’

  Finn shrugged and kicked a stone into the grass verge. ‘No.’

  ‘I’m sweet on Jenna.’ Sam suddenly stepped in front of Finn making him halt and blink in surprise. ‘She’s lovely. You’re a good-looking bloke. I’m not going to have a rival for her, am I?’

  ‘What?’ Finn was stunned but didn’t react by bawling at Sam Lawry to get out of his way; instead he found himself grinning. ‘Don’t be bloody daft, you prat, I’ve got too much on my mind right now to bother with girls. Not that I haven’t had a lot of experience with them,’ he wasn’t above boasting. He cherished the memory of Belle. Besides, it’s your mother I want.

  ‘Great, we can be friends then, if you want to be.’ Sam dropped back at Finn’s side. ‘I’m sorry my dad didn’t have a job for you but you’re always welcome to drop into The Orchards.’

  ‘OK, I will, but while my mother’s recovering I’ll be bringing my baby sister. Mrs Belle called on us and said to bring Eloise along at any time.’

  ‘Great, can I come to your place?’

  ‘Sure.’ Finn could gain news about Belle from Sam.

  Sam kept glancing at Finn.

  ‘What?’

  ‘You’ve had girlfriends then? Kissed them?’

  ‘Yes, and I’ve spent time with an older woman.’ Finn winked at Sam.

  ‘You mean . . . you did it with her . . . everything?’

  ‘Yes,’ Finn replied, his head held high, grinning broadly.

  ‘Wow, lucky bugger.’ A pause. ‘What was it like?’

  ‘Well, as my late grandfather used to say, if God made anything better He kept it for Himself.’

  They were in the village, heading in the direction of Petherton and then the school. Finn took this way to avoid the Stores and teashop where nosy people might be lingering.

  ‘Hey, you boy! Not you, Samuel Lawry. The Templeton boy! Come here!’ From the entrance of Petherton, its iron gates patriotically removed years ago for the war effort, her feet astride like a man would stand, was the superior figure in tweeds and brogues of a middle-aged woman. She marched at the boys.

  ‘It’s the indomitable Mrs Mitchelmore, the old cow,’ Sam whispered. ‘Be civil to her or she’ll be round to your mother demanding she teach you some manners.’

  ‘Yes madam?’ Finn said politely, but he did not move forward to meet the woman, keeping aloof. The woman would be attractive if she wasn’t squared off in physical appearance. In her hand were a notepad and a scrap of pencil. Her voice had a thundering, swift quality and much about her was penetrating and hawkish. She smelled strongly of rose and violet scent. ‘Can I help you?’

  ‘Absolutely not, it’s the other way round, that’s why I’ve taken the time and trouble to address you. I’m Mrs Esther Mitchelmore, lady of the manor, so to speak, and chairwoman of all the local charitable committees hereabouts. Don’t stand on your pride, Master Templeton. That wasn’t the attitude that won the British Isles the war, and I can’t be doing with it. What do you and your mother and the infant need? Speak up, I haven’t got all day, I’m a very busy woman. Shan’t be calling on you wanting to socialize. I respect others’ pe
nchant for privacy. Take this pad and pencil and I shall see to the best of my ability, and availability of course, that you get it, via Mrs Resterick. I’m sure that should suit you.’

  The notepad and pencil was pushed into Finn’s hand and he stared at it, quite flummoxed for the moment. He and his mother were strangers, from a disgraced background, yet the village on the whole had showed them unreserved generosity.

  Sam nudged his elbow and hissed into his ear. ‘Write something for goodness’ sake. Humour her or she’ll get persistent.’

  ‘What did you say, Samuel Lawry?’ Mrs Mitchelmore demanded fiercely.

  Sam responded with charm and a touch of fake fawning. ‘I was reminding Finn that although he has just bought a lot of baby stuff and household things, Mrs Mitchelmore, he did mention he would be next requiring some towels and dishcloths.’

  ‘Consider it done, Master Templeton. Before the day is out, a parcel will be dispatched to Sunny Corner to be passed on to your mother. Oh, and with the addition of some stationery, in case she hasn’t got any, an essential for a woman of breeding, as I understand Mrs Templeton is. Now tell me why you are called Finn, short for Philip, something of the sort?’

  ‘My name isn’t shortened from anything. My parents simply liked the sound of Finn. Thank you for your kindness, Mrs Mitchelmore.’ Finn’s impatience was rising with the termagant. You bloody patronizing bitch.

  ‘Did they really? I’ve heard more peculiar names,’ she snorted then waved Finn away. ‘Run along now. I’m sure your mother is anxious for your return.’

  Finn walked on hurriedly expelling an angry sigh.

  Sam had to chase after him. ‘Don’t take any notice of her, she’s a strange old girl but she did get things done during the war. Was a great comfort, it’s said, to those who lost loved ones. She’s constantly at war with Delia Newton from the Stores; that woman is a mare and a half. She tries to stop everything that’s beneficial to the village, she and the vicar, the lazy old sod. You probably won’t be interested in this, but there’s a meeting pending to be held at our house about getting a village hall built. My dad, Mrs Mitchelmore and Mr Barnicoat, and a chap called Evans, are determined to drive it through. There’ll be ructions once Mrs Mitchelmore and dreary bitchy Delia Newton get started. Makes for good entertainment though,’ Sam chuckled.