by Carol Rivers
‘Gives the person time to put a smile on their face.’
Mrs Hayes disappeared with the clanking trolley and Daisy ran up the stairs towards the covered walkway. It was cold and draughty compared to the stuffy workplace she had just left, so she skipped along the dirty floorboards to keep warm. At the end of the corridor she squeezed through the flimsy partition leading to the offices.
At the door marked ‘Secretary’ she paused and remembering Mrs Hayes’s warning, was about to knock when she saw it was slightly ajar. Quietly she positioned herself for the best view inside the room. Aunt Betty’s tall, slender figure stood at the window. Beside her - very close beside her - stood Mr Calder, whom Daisy knew to be the accounts manager.
‘Betty, you must think of an excuse to get away from him,’ he said urgently.
’It’s not that simple, Neville,’ replied Aunt Betty. ‘I rarely go out in the evenings without Ed.’
’Not even to a friend’s?’
Aunt Betty stroked back a curl of her short dark hair as Mr Calder stepped closer. ’Neville, please don’t - not here.’
Daisy held her breath as Mr Calder did - almost - what Matt had done to Amelia. That thing with their lips nearly meeting.
Daisy gave a little choke of surprise. Aunt Betty quickly stepped back and Mr Calder bent down to the desk.
’I’ll take these papers with me,’ he said in a formal voice. ‘Thank you Mrs Purbright.’
’Of course, Mr Calder,’ replied Aunt Betty. ‘Good morning.’
Daisy scurried away as fast as her feet would take her. Retracing her steps along the walkway she was sure she hadn’t been seen.
When eventually she rejoined Mrs Hayes, she had come to the conclusion that it was very odd to find her aunt and a strange man standing so close to one another. If Mr Calder was not deaf - and surely he was too young to be hard of hearing - then what excuse was there for his behaviour?
After turning this over in her mind, it became clear to Daisy that she did not care for Mr Calder at all and didn’t see how Aunt Betty could like him either!
‘Cheer up, ducks, you look as though you’ve lost a pound and found a penny.’ Mrs Hayes steered the rattling trolley towards the canteen at a rate of knots.
‘No, I haven’t found anything. Well, not really.’ Daisy trotted beside the tea lady trying to keep up, listening to the tea-stained mugs clink violently against each other. A quick manoeuvre to the left swerved them down another walkway in the opposite direction to the offices.
‘Either you have - or you haven’t,’ the tea lady objected. ‘Speak now or forever hold your peace.’
Daisy was not certain how - or even if - she should reveal what she had seen. If she was to tell anyone at all, it would be Mrs Hayes or even Bobby, but was there really something to tell?
Perhaps she had imagined Aunt Betty standing close to Mr Calder? Had peering through one eye with the other closed distorted their figures? The more she thought, the more she was uncertain. Yet still the imprint of what she had witnessed remained in her mind. Just like Matt and Amelia’s almost-kiss.
Mrs Hayes launched the trolley into the doors of the canteen, where the scarred and dented flaps flew open. Once safely into the deserted room filled with stout wooden tables and chairs, smelling strongly of the cleaning agent that was used to kill the roaches and mice, the trolley was abandoned.
‘There now, all done,’ sighed Mrs Hayes, planting her hands on her hips as she studied Daisy. ‘Did you find your aunt?’
Daisy hesitated. ’Yes, but I didn’t actually speak to her.’
‘Why not?’
‘She was with - she had - a visitor.’
Mrs Hayes screwed up her eyes. ‘Who was that?’
‘Mr Calder.‘
‘They was doing the accounts, no doubt,’ Mrs Hayes said in a tone that brooked no argument as she waved a wooden spoon in Daisy’s direction. ‘A very important job is accounts. They’ve got to be kept up to date. Takes some doing; two heads is better than one.’
‘Is it?’
‘Just like cooking or tea-making.’
‘I suppose,’ Daisy agreed, not at all convinced.
’Your aunt is busy. Don’t go pestering her again.’ Mrs Hayes’s fierce, unmoving gaze held Daisy’s. ‘Why don’t you go up to the Lab? Bound to see your dad there. Odds on he’ll be inventing something that goes bang and ends up in a puff of smoke.’
Daisy nodded though she feared Mrs Hayes was employing diversionary tactics, just as her mother and father did. Mrs Hayes had never done this before and Daisy found it rather disappointing.
‘Look here, ducks,’ said Mrs Hayes, resuming her cheerful old self. ‘I’ve got a nice fat banger for you. I’ll wrap it in baking paper. It’s cold from yesterday, but still tasty. Eat it on the QT. Don’t let anyone see or they’ll want one too.’
Daisy swiftly stuffed the disguised sausage into her pocket.
‘Run along now. The cleaners are coming.’
With a final twirl of the spoon, Mrs Hayes returned her attention to the big double ovens. Daisy made her way to the laboratory. The Lab as it was known, was where her father conducted his investigations into how, why and where a thing might work. It was a room full of test tubes and bottles and strong smelling chemicals and little flames that danced out of the Bunsen Burners.
It was here that she felt as though she was witnessing one of Houdini’s magic tricks, as stuffy Matt might say. A trick coming true right in front of her eyes.
Daisy smelled the room on the upper floor long before she arrived for the Lab had a particular odour; gassy and smoky and altogether exciting.
She slipped out her parcel, nibbled at the treat and leaped the stairs. Mrs Hayes had never given her a sausage before. It was as if - well, if Daisy didn’t know better - the sausage had been offered in conjunction with the tea-lady’s spoon-warning about Aunt Betty and Mr Calder.
Chapter 5
Daisy thought long and hard about that Saturday morning and her observations at the door of Aunt Betty’s office. Nor had she forgotten the warning expression in Mrs Hayes’s eyes. Sharing with Bobby would be no help at all; he might claim that she got what she deserved for spying on people.
So Daisy kept her thoughts to herself, hoping she had been mistaken about Aunt Betty and Mr Calder. It wasn’t until a month later that the whole sorry episode was brought to light in the least expected manner.
After school one day, she and Bobby returned home to find Aunt Minnie seated in the living room with Mother. Though there was nothing unusual in Aunt Minnie visiting, both her mother and aunt sat with slightly flushed cheeks and talking in a hushed manner.
’Shoes by the front door!’ Mother ordered as Daisy and Bobby burst in.
‘But - ‘
‘Do as you’re told.’ Mother shooed them away.
‘They don’t want us to hear,’ Daisy whispered to Bobby as they returned to the hall.
Bobby kicked his shoes to the doormat. ‘Trust you! Always dreaming up a drama.’
She stared at her uncooperative brother. ‘They stopped talking when we came in.’
‘It was just grown-up stuff.’
Daisy took off her shoes. Why was Bobby not listening? He had lost interest in what she had to say or regarded them as trivial. Did this happen to every boy once they had turned ten?
‘Hello you two,’ Aunt Minnie welcomed when they reappeared. Stroking her long corn-coloured hair behind her ears she held out her arms. ‘Hugs twice over please.’
Daisy watched with interest as Bobby allowed himself to be pulled close. But not for long. How like Matt he was becoming! Hugs and cuddles had slipped into the category of girl’s stuff. His recent move to the box room had set the seal on their nightly discussions.
Daisy fell eagerly into her favourite aunt’s arms. She relished being overcome by Gardenia and the feel of a smooth, rouged cheek against hers. Aunt Minnie’s playful tug on her plaits made her giggle. Bobby, she noted, awkwardly kicked his heels.
’Manners, Bobby,’ their mother interrupted. ‘Aunt Minnie would like to be asked how she is.’
‘Oh, nonsense, Flo!’ Aunt Minnie protested. ‘Bobby can see I am in the peak of good health. Sadly though, Will has a howling cough. Leo is taking care of him. Though it could very well be the other way round.’ Aunt Minnie tinkled a laugh. ‘Your uncle is rubbish at medicines and things.’
‘Oh,’ mumbled Bobby vaguely.
‘My goodness, you both look smart. Flo, how do you manage the uniforms?’
‘It’s difficult,’ Florence answered her sister. ‘I’ve made do and mend with some of Daisy’s and Bobby’s Wattcombe clothes.’
Daisy had learned about shortages first-hand. She still wore her mackintosh from Wattcombe Primary jumble sale. She and Bobby now wore the uniform of Poplar Park School, but Bobby’s shorts were too small and her gym slip a faded navy.
‘Is tea ready yet?’ asked Bobby.
‘I’ve brought rock cakes,’ offered Aunt Minnie. ‘Sadly, they were all I could find. Like uniforms, good pastries are in short supply. Goodness knows what we’ll do for Christmas.’
‘Minnie, you spoil us,’ worried Mother. ‘But thank you all the same.’ Turning to Daisy she nodded briefly. ‘Why don’t you and Bobby have your tea? Aunt Minnie’s rock cakes are in the larder.’
‘Thanks, Aunt Minnie!’ Daisy threw her arms around her aunt. ’I love it when you visit. You always bring nice treats.’
Soft laughter echoed as Daisy chased Bobby to the kitchen.
‘I’m taking my cake upstairs to eat in my room,’ Bobby threatened as he opened the pantry door.
‘Mother won’t like it if we don’t eat properly on the table.’
’She won’t know if you don’t tell.’
Daisy watched her brother shovel another into his pocket.
‘Why don’t you ever stop to talk to me?’ she pestered.
’Talking’s for girls.’
‘Bobby I need to tell you something,’ Daisy called as Bobby left the kitchen. ‘There’s something I saw at the factory - ‘
But her brother had already gone. So Daisy sat alone at the kitchen table. Unusually, her appetite had disappeared. Instead there was an uncomfortable weight on her chest. If she couldn’t share this dilemma, she was going to burst.
Daisy had finally eaten her cake and was about to follow Bobby upstairs when she heard Aunt Minnie’s voice drift out from the living room.
‘I know something’s wrong, yet I can’t put my finger on the trouble.’
‘What sort of trouble?’ replied Mother.
‘Betty said she wanted to go to the pictures to see - what is that film called with Ronald Colman? The Prisoner of Zenda?’
‘Wasn’t it playing up West last year?’
‘Apparently, it’s showing again. And Betty seemed eager - ’
‘Why did she ask you?’ Mother interrupted. ‘Why not Ed?’
‘He was working late - apparently,’ Aunt Minnie suggested. ‘Betty seems to think I’m somewhat of a picture-goer. Not that she really wanted my company. In fact I got the distinct impression she didn’t.’
‘How so?’ Mother questioned.
‘I was about to explain that we were expecting a visit from one of Leo’s stuffy old clients when Betty told me the cab she’d ordered was was arriving as we spoke. As if she hadn’t bargained on me going with her in the first place.’
‘How curious,’ replied Mother.
‘Yes, I thought so too.’
Daisy was puzzling this conversation when the next sentence dropped like a bombshell.
‘Anyway, the thing is - and this took the wind right out of my sails - Betty then asked me to tell Ed, if he should ever enquire, that I had gone to the cinema with her. She said something about Ed not liking her to go out on her own what with the threat of war on our doorstep but she was eager not to miss the film and didn’t want to upset Ed.’
Another strained silence, but the information about Aunt Betty wanting to go out on her own gave Daisy the shivers.
’So I agreed,’ Aunt Minnie continued helplessly. ‘I actually agreed to fib on Betty’s behalf!’
Mother gasped. ’Heavens, Minnie, you didn’t!’
‘What was I supposed to do?’
‘I … I’m not certain.’ Daisy heard her mother hesitate - which was unusual in itself. ‘But lying on behalf of anyone is wrong, whoever it might be.’
‘I know,’ agreed Aunt Minnie sheepishly. ‘I just didn’t have time to think. Please keep this to yourself, Flo.’
‘Of course. Did Betty actually go to see this film?’
’I suppose she must have or else I’d have heard from her.’
‘Did you tell Leo?’ asked Mother.
’No, only you.’
Mother gave a sniff of disapproval, a sound that Daisy knew well. ‘I should try to put it from your mind, Minnie. It’s probably all quite innocent.’
‘I hope so, but - ‘
‘Minnie, don’t say it. Don’t even think it,’ warned Mother, but Aunt Minnie refused to give up.
‘I always thought Ed and Betty were well suited. But now I’m having doubts. Ed seems besotted with his wretched valves and Betty might feel ignored.’
‘Why should she?’ Mother countered icily. ‘Like Ed, Nicky is quite passionate about his discoveries. Our men are only trying to make a decent living.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Aunt Minnie hurriedly. ‘But you and Nicky have a family to balance your lives. Leo and I have Will. Ed and Betty are childless. It doesn’t seem fair somehow.’
The voices then dipped to an inaudible whisper, forcing Daisy to return to her bedroom where she sat fretfully at her desk. Her times-table exercise book remained unopened. Her pencil lay idly in its groove. What could Aunt Betty be thinking of when asking Aunt Minnie to lie? What if Uncle Ed should learn the truth?
A few minutes later, Aunt Minnie put her head round the door. ‘Darling, I’m off now.’
Daisy jumped to her feet. ‘Aren’t you staying for supper, Aunt Minnie?’
‘Heavens, I’d love to. Another time perhaps. Give your father a hug from me.’
Daisy was bathed again in Gardenia as she hugged her aunt. A short while after Aunt Minnie had left, she was still sitting, trying to gather her thoughts, when Mother appeared.
‘What are you doing, Daisy?’
‘I’ve been learning my times tables.’
‘How very industrious.’
‘When will Pops and Matt be home?’
’Not long now.’
Daisy left her desk and wound her arms around her mother’s slender waist.
‘What’s all this for?’ Mother asked, kissing the top of her daughter’s head as they hugged.
’Nothing. I just … well, it’s nice being all together, isn’t it?’
‘You are a funny girl.’
Daisy melted in the warm embrace of motherhood. She felt reassured after the uncomfortable thoughts stirred inside her. She wasn’t able to say why - exactly - she had felt so peculiar. After all, tiny white fibs didn’t matter much, did they? White fibs weren’t like huge black, unpardonable lies.
All the same, Aunt Minnie regretted her fib and Mother had offered no answer in their place. The fact that Aunt Betty had done something to cause Aunt Minnie to confide her secret to Mother was bad enough. But worse by far - much, much worse, was that Aunt Betty it seemed, had done exactly what Mr Calder had told her to.
Chapter 6
Daisy stood in the headmistress’s office with three other pupils of Poplar Park School.
‘Girls, I have chosen you to decorate the assembly room where the school play will take place. We haven’t any holly, but we’ll make do with a few twigs from the playground. There is a box of decorations in the caretaker’s cupboard. Since we’ve no real tree this year, we must use a coat stand.’
Daisy loved Christmas and all its trimmings
. For the past two years she had helped to decorate the school. Delivered on the first week of December from Cox Street market, the arrival of the tree caused a stir of excitement. But this year her heart sank for the hall stood empty and lacklustre. The scarred red brick walls and scrubbed wooden floors indented by scores of Blakeys hammered into the cheap soles of the children’s shoes, were barren. All down to the shortages and hardships posed by the rumoured conflict.
‘What will we do with a coat stand, Miss Bailey?’ one girl wanted to know.
‘Ask Mr Potter for a sheet to drape over it. Use your imagination.’
Daisy didn’t think for a moment that Mr Potter would oblige. As old as the hills and clearly suspicious of any child in the vicinity, the caretaker stoically guarded the school’s property cupboard. ’Please Miss, what if the cover’s not green?’ Nora Fudge, the class know-it-all, enquired.
‘Any colour will suffice, Nora. We have very few choices.’
Daisy and her friends left to scour the girls’ cloakrooms where a suitable coat stand was eventually found. Mr Potter unexpectedly provided a torn grey tarpaulin together with a battered box labelled, “Christmas Decs”.
In the cold assembly room, the box revealed ancient pupil-made decorations which helped to disguise the sheet. At home, Daisy cut out a star from a large brown envelope that Pops brought from the factory.
‘From Aunt Betty,’ he explained. ‘And look here, some coloured chalks. You’re bound to do wonders with these.’
‘Are Aunt Betty and Uncle Ed coming to watch?’ Daisy enquired, a strange little shiver creeping down her spine as she thought of Aunt Betty’s secret.
‘Indeed,’ he assured her. ‘Just as they always do.’
Daisy recalled with pride the many Nativity plays produced at Wattcombe Primary. She had never been chosen to play Mary or Joseph or even a wise man, but she had excelled at helping to dress the cast. Over the years she had secured belts and braces, stretched towels and turbans over tiny heads and made shepherd staffs from the many donated walking sticks. One year, a farmer’s donkey had been led into the school yard. Mary and Joseph, head-height to its belly had been terrified at the sound of its braying. Daisy remembered with fondness her village school even though she had never won a great role in the play. So she had been more than surprised last year at her new school, when Miss Bailey had given her a solo to perform.
