A Sister's Duty

by June Francis

  They were strong hands, thought Amelia. There was a moment’s silence before he added, ‘We had to round up the Jerries, you know.’

  Amelia accepted the change of subject with gratitude. ‘You had to fight? I thought they’d surrendered by the time you got there?’

  ‘There were pockets of resistance. Norwegian girls in love with Jerry soldiers who didn’t want to go home.’ His voice had softened and she could tell from his expression that he was seeing it all in his mind. ‘It was hard. Most of them were younger than I was. Love or lust – it sweeps you off your feet at that age.’

  Amelia could not argue with that, remembering Bernard, feeling again the pain of parting from him. She decided they would have another whisky and, picking up their glasses, left the parlour.

  Peter did not follow her. When she returned to the parlour, he was not there either. ‘Peter!’ she called.

  ‘Upstairs.’

  He was in the main bedroom. Her mother had been a real homemaker and her taste still prevailed in the heavy Edwardian furniture, homemade curtains and patchwork quilt. ‘This is my room,’ said Amelia, as if staking a claim.

  ‘I guessed that.’ His eyes washed over her face. ‘I’m looking at your books.’

  She went over to where he stood in front of one of the alcoves next to the fireplace and handed him his glass. She glanced over the bookshelves, scanning titles. The British Pharmaceutical Codex, Culpeper’s Herbal, Flora and Fauna of the British Isles, Little Women, Jane Eyre, Pride and Prejudice, The Black Moth and others.

  Peter gulped at the whisky. ‘What a mixture! You’re a romantic. I never realised. Tess always said—’ His voice trailed off.

  What had she said? That I was controlled and tough-skinned? Amelia wondered. She felt cold and took a cardigan out of her wardrobe. She drained her glass then held the door open, needing him to get out of her room right now. Feeling that his being there was an invasion of her privacy. ‘I’ll show you the other rooms.’

  He did not look at her but lingered behind. Impatiently, she left the room and he followed her into the small front room. ‘I’ve put the twins in here for now but they could move into the larger room the girls share at the moment, with Chris.’

  ‘Rosie’s the eldest? The one you want trained as a dispenser?’

  ‘That’s right. She’s got the brains for it.’

  Amelia left the room and he followed her along the landing. By now, she had her hands tucked inside the sleeves of her cardigan like a Chinese mandarin.

  ‘You’re not enjoying this, are you?’ he said.

  Amelia made a noise in her throat that might have turned into sardonic laughter if she had let it. ‘I’m not exactly loving it, no.’ She led him into the second largest room.

  His eyes took in its size. ‘It’ll take the three boys nicely. But what about me?’

  ‘Come!’ she said imperiously, cocking one finger at him.

  He followed her down a step past the bathroom and toilet and along to the final bedroom. She flung the door open. ‘At the moment, Harry’s sleeping in here, but he’ll be gone in a few days.’ She was starting to feel light-headed so sat down on the bed.

  He sat next to her. ‘Does he know yet?’

  Amelia did not answer him, hugging herself and staring out of the window. It was not a very big room and she felt swamped with guilt. But it had been Peter’s idea that they should have separate rooms.

  ‘Is it fair, Lee? Sending him – and Babs, is it – away?’

  Again that overpowering guilt. ‘They’re not your worry,’ she said stiffly. ‘It was Iris and Bill’s idea. He owns a canning factory – fish.’ She fiddled with a strand of hair. ‘His wounds . . .’ She made a sketchy indication of his nether regions. ‘He can’t have children.’

  ‘I see.’ Peter grimaced. ‘Poor bloke.’

  She nodded and forced a smile, skin feeling taut. ‘Life’ll be easier anyway when Harry goes.’ She turned her empty glass round and round between her fingers. ‘He and the twins don’t get on. I think I told you?’

  He nodded. ‘How are the twins? Tess was forever complaining she couldn’t manage them. They played tricks on her, apparently. All the time.’

  ‘They’re no angels,’ said Amelia abruptly. ‘But I’m hoping you’ll take them in hand if—’

  For what felt like an age they stared at one another, each trying to read the other’s thoughts, but neither was giving any more away. ‘So-oo!’ he said at last, rubbing the back of his neck. ‘Shall we stick to what we decided in our letters and give it a whirl?’

  His choice of words reminded her of roundabouts and swings, making the idea of marriage with him sound fun. Even so, she was not going to kid herself that any of it would be easy. She took a deep breath. ‘OK. Thank you.’ She did not know why she thanked him.

  Peter smiled and bowed. ‘Thank you!’

  As Amelia made cheese and pickle sandwiches and cups of Camp coffee, she thought back over the last hour or so. They had got through it without too much difficulty. Thanks to the whisky, she decided. She took the tray into the sitting room. Peter was looking at the pictures the twins had crayonned.

  ‘I’ll take over the mortgage payments,’ he said, accepting a cup from her.

  She nodded. ‘I’ll still have to go into the shop for a while.’

  His eyes were thoughtful, estimating how long she would stretch that while. ‘You’ll be needed here.’

  ‘I know, but I can’t give up just like that!’ She snapped her fingers. ‘It’s been my life. And, besides, I’ll have to see Rosie settled in.’

  Privately, Amelia hated the thought of giving up the shop. It was going to be difficult, just as it was to imagine him as her husband, not Tess’s. A marriage of convenience, they had both agreed, but for how long would he be satisfied so easily? She would face that when it came, she decided. Just as she would face telling Rosie – after Babs and Harry had gone off to Canada.

  Chapter Six

  Amelia had packed most of Babs’s and Harry’s things and even managed to sneak down his engine that morning. She was all on edge, not having told them or Rosie that today the two children would be sailing on a ship of the Canadian Pacific Line to Montreal. She would be glad when she got them down to the docks and waved them off. She had kept them off school on the pretence of having made dental appointments for both of them. She did not like telling fibs but told herself the parting would be easier for them this way.

  She sighed, thinking she had taken so much time off lately that Mr Brown was complaining he didn’t have two pairs of hands, asking when Rosie would finish school for good and saying the girl showed a real aptitude for the work. He was willing to teach her all he knew.

  ‘Soon,’ Amelia had soothed him, pleased that he felt like that. She wanted the girl to get on but did not want her knowing what she was up to right now.

  ‘Are you two ready?’ she said, straightening the collar of Harry’s grey flannel jacket.

  ‘Yes.’ Both of them pulled faces but followed her out, dragging their feet.

  Babs stopped short at the sight of the taxi waiting at the kerb. ‘We’re not going in that, are we?’

  ‘Yes! Get in. I’ve a lot to do today and can’t waste time.’

  ‘I’ve never been in a car before,’ said Harry excitedly.

  ‘I’ve only been in a funeral car,’ said Babs, stroking the seat as she would a horse. ‘It makes going to the dentist not so bad.’

  Amelia felt dreadful but decided to wait before telling them the truth about their destination.

  When they passed the dental hospital in Pembroke Place, she decided she could delay the moment no longer. Clearing her thoat, she said, ‘You’re not going to the dentist. You’re going on a lovely adventure to Canada.’

  Two pairs of astonished blue eyes stared at her.

  ‘Canada!’ said Babs. ‘But that’s thousands of miles away. You can’t send us there. What about Rosie and Dotty?’

  ‘They’ll be O
K and so will you. You’ll be living with your Aunt Iris and Uncle Bill. It’s not as if you’re going to strangers,’ said Amelia, squeezing Harry’s hand.

  ‘But we hardly know Aunt Iris,’ cried Babs, anger and dismay causing her voice to quiver as she fumbled with the door handle. ‘You’ve got to let us out of here!’

  Amelia leant across Harry and prised her niece’s fingers from the handle. ‘D’you want to be killed?’ The driver’s head swivelled and the car slowed. ‘Drive on!’ she ordered.

  Babs wrenched her hand away from Amelia’s, glaring at her as she put an arm round Harry. ‘I knew you were up to something. It’s to do with the Hudsons and their father, isn’t it?’

  ‘It’s nothing to do with them. Iris asked to have you. She has no children of her own and thought it only fair, as she is your aunt too, to share the responsibility of bringing you up.’

  Babs was silent, thinking about that.

  ‘Where’s Canada?’ asked Harry. ‘Is it a long, long way away?’

  ‘Not as far as Australia,’ said Amelia, taking his hand and patting it. ‘And I haven’t forgotten your engine. It’s in the boot. You and Babs will be going on a big ship and will be met in Montreal by your other aunt. My sister and her husband Bill.’

  ‘A ship?’ His face brightened then fell again. ‘But you said Rosie’s not coming?’ His bottom lip wobbled and tears filled his eyes. ‘Want Rosie.’

  ‘She has to sit her exams. It would be wrong to move her now. Maybe later she’ll come and see you. When you’re settled.’

  Babs, who had been sitting very still, said, ‘Are you just saying that to keep us quiet?’

  ‘Don’t you think she’ll want to come and visit you?’ parried Amelia.

  ‘Yes, but where will she get the money?’

  ‘We’ll find it. You just think how lovely it’ll be on the ship.’ And having got to know Babs’s weaknesses in the last few months, she added, ‘And when you get to Canada, there’ll be lots of food: cakes, sweets and lovely Canadian apples. Aunt Iris’ll take you shopping and buy you new clothes.’

  ‘And toys?’ asked Harry, tears evaporating.

  ‘Of course,’ said Amelia, relief colouring her smile.

  ‘Are they rich? Richer than you?’ said Babs, a calculating expression on her face.

  ‘Much richer! You’re going to have a marvellous time,’ promised Amelia, crossing her fingers as she began to tell them what she knew about Canada and her sister’s life there.

  When they reached the docks and saw the Mersey gleaming in the sun and the liner at its berth, she felt a rush of longing to join them on their voyage. To leave Liverpool, with its expanses of blighted wasteland and damaged buildings. But she had had her chance after her father died and had not wanted to get rid of the shop and house for which he had worked so hard.

  ‘You’re very lucky kids,’ she said, accompanying them to their cabin.

  ‘They are that,’ said the stewardess appointed to look after them. ‘You’re going to have a lovely time.’

  Babs’s face brightened. ‘Will there be games to play, books to read?’

  ‘We’ve all sorts,’ said the stewardess, and began to reel off the pleasures in store.

  Amelia crept out of the cabin, deciding it might be best not to say goodbye. On the dockside, she gave the liner one last look, thinking that a day’s work lay ahead for her and then later she would have to break the news to Rosie. It was a task she was not looking forward to.

  Rosie flung her satchel on the floor in a corner of her room, wondering where Babs and Harry had got to. Her sister was generally home before her with the tea on by now. Could Harry have persuaded her to take him to Lord Sefton’s Estate to play? There had been no sign of them outside or in the garden. In fact, the house was unusually silent. The twins had gone home for a few days because their father was home for a week. Then he would be going to some Army camp in England, so her aunt said. The war in Europe was as good as over now Hitler had killed himself.

  Rosie went upstairs and checked Harry’s room, noticing his engine was not in its usual place. She stared at the empty space and for some reason the thought popped into her head that the terrible twins had stolen it again because Harry did not normally take it out with him. Perhaps Babs and he had gone tearing off to the Hudsons’s house now their dad was home, to complain, and he might not be at all pleased. She hesitated only a moment before going out again and heading for the village.

  Against her will, Rosie liked Peter Hudson at first sight despite it being obvious where the twins got their looks from. She did not know what it was about him. Maybe it was the smile that reached his eyes and his lovely even white teeth.

  He asked her in and no sooner did she set foot in the untidy kitchen with its unpolished brass fenders and books on the hearth than he asked her if she would like a job as she looked a strong fit girl. That made her smile and feel right at home. He was obviously in the middle of ironing and everyone knew it wasn’t a man’s job. There was an art to it.

  ‘No, thanks,’ she said. ‘I’m looking for Harry and Babs. And I’ve the tea to put on and homework to do.’

  There was a pause before he said, ‘Your aunt’s told me about you. Says you’ve plenty of sense.’ He placed the iron on the glowing coals and gave her a glimpse of that heartwhirling smile.

  ‘It’s more than she’s said to me,’ murmured Rosie, cheeks glowing. ‘She makes me feel an idiot sometimes.’

  ‘That you’re not. She wouldn’t be thinking of helping you towards being a dispenser if you were.’

  ‘She said that to you?’ Rosie was amazed.

  ‘We’ve known each other a long time,’ he said gravely, thinking now was obviously not the right time to say he was going to marry her aunt.

  ‘Of course.’ She blushed. ‘I wasn’t thinking. Your wife and she were close friends.’

  ‘Yes.’ His smile vanished and he rested one elbow on the mantelpiece. ‘Anyway, Babs and Harry aren’t here, so is there anything else I can do for you?’

  She hesitated. With those wonderful eyes on her, she felt embarrassed about revealing why she had come. ‘Oh, I just wondered if the twins had brought an engine home with them?’ she said as casually as she could.

  ‘Ah! Harry’s is missing, is it?’ He gave her a quizzical look as he took up the iron with a singed cloth and spat on its flat bottom. ‘Try asking your aunt where it is.’

  ‘She’s not in.’

  ‘Try waiting until she is.’

  Rosie did not know what to say to that. She had a feeling he was trying to tell her something. But that was ridiculous; he had not said anything at all really. ‘Perhaps I’d best go home then?’

  ‘I would,’ he said, without a smile, and saw her out.

  There was still no sign of Harry or Babs when she arrived home. So Rosie switched on the wireless because the house was so quiet and found some liver in the meat safe in the larder. She peeled an onion and put on the frying pan. When she heard the cat mewing she ran to let him in and gave him a cuddle.

  She put the liver and onions in a casserole dish in the oven, then tried to settle to studying, but could not concentrate. Where could Harry and Babs be? It was not their evening for instruction at the priest’s house.

  Closing the book on Elementary Chemistry, she ran upstairs and into Harry’s room. She opened a drawer. It was empty. She opened another and that was empty too. A search for Babs’s clothes came next. They were all gone.

  Rosie felt panic rise inside her. Where had they gone? What had Amelia done to them? She raced into her aunt’s room, turning over things on her dressing table, opening drawers. Then she saw scribbled on a notepad the name of a ship, a date and a time. It was today! She threw the pad at the wall, wishing it was her aunt’s face, and dashed downstairs as she heard the key in the lock.

  As soon as Amelia had the door open, Rosie pounced on her. Seizing the lapels of her jacket, the girl shouted in her face, ‘You’ve sent them to Australia, ha
ven’t you? You’ve sent them to Australia!’

  Amelia jerked back her head. ‘Let go, Rosie. I haven’t done anything of the sort.’

  ‘I don’t believe you. I saw the name of the ship,’ she yelled, tears already streaming down her face.

  Amelia dropped her bag and seized hold of the girl’s wrists. ‘I have not sent them to Australia,’ she said emphatically. ‘Now let go of my collar before you break my brooch. It’s very precious to me.’

  ‘Where are they?’ Rosie panted, eyes wild, still holding on to her. Amelia wrenched the girl’s hands away and she yelped. ‘You’ve cut me!’ She gazed at her finger, which was oozing blood.

  ‘It’s your own fault,’ said Amelia crossly, glancing down at the silver brooch on her lapel. ‘What d’you think you’re doing, acting like a mad thing? There’s ways of asking people if you want a quick answer.’

  Rosie wiped her finger on the palm of her other hand, leaving a streak of blood. ‘Where are they?’

  ‘On a liner bound for Canada. There, I’ve told you.’ She let out a breath. ‘What a relief! It’s been blinking hard keeping it from you.’

  ‘Canada?’ Rosie’s face was aghast as she sank on to the bottom stair.

  ‘I’ve sent them to Iris. Two each, that’s what we’ve agreed.’

  ‘Two each?’ gasped Rosie, gazing up at her with a horrified expression. ‘We’re not a pound of apples that you can divide between you. We’ve got feelings!’

  ‘And so have I,’ said Amelia, exasperated. ‘And I’m not in the mood for this.’ She felt exhausted, wanting nothing more than a cup of tea, a bath, a good book and bed. She picked up her bag and walked to the kitchen.

  Rosie rushed after her. ‘Tell me what happened?’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about it now.’

  ‘But you must. I need to know. It’s my brother and sister you’ve sent away. Just because you hated Mam and have no feelings, you can’t treat us like a bundle of rags!’

  Anger flashed in Amelia’s eyes and she felt the throb, throb, throb of pain behind her left eye. ‘I should have sent you but I didn’t want our Iris to have that burden.’ As soon as she said the words, she wished she hadn’t.