Greg was curious about how the money had been spent, but didn’t ask.
She ushered him out then, insisting she was ready for her bed. As soon as he was out of sight, she grabbed her old hat and coat and hurried to the bus stop.
Ronald was still in hospital, his improvement hadn’t lasted and his planned return home had been delayed, then postponed until he showed a lasting improvement. Zena and Greg were at the hospital during evening visiting, when their mother Lottie arrived with Mabs. Two visitors at a time to a patient was the firm rule so Greg and Zena sat in the corridor while the sisters-in-law went to talk to Ronald.
‘Heard from Jake?’ Greg asked. It was always a difficult subject. He knew his sister rarely heard from Jake apart from a brief call from a phone box where he usually told her how wonderful his life was and asked when was she coming to join him, then ran out of pennies.
‘He’s hopeless at writing letters; you know what Jake’s like. He means to and might even start to write one, but there’s always something happening to distract him. I bet he already has a group of friends. I write often to tell him about life in Cold Brook Vale and hope to persuade him to give up and come home.’
‘Will it work?’
She shrugged. ‘I can only hope.’ She frowned. ‘He’s stopped asking me to go there on a visit to see whether I can live in London. Are we both hoping for opposite things?’
‘He’ll be missing you and I bet he’ll be home before Christmas.’
‘Christmas 1953. Can you believe it’s eight years since war ended? And food still rationed. Surely his enthusiasm for this new job and living so far away will have faded before then?’
‘It isn’t far off. But his enthusiasm for this job and living in London might last longer than that.’
Greg dreamed about Christmas. He imagined the house all decorated with the ancient trimmings they used year after year. He would invite his secret love, Rose, and introduce her to his parents. Dad would be out of hospital; Mam would fill the house with food; Aunty Mabs would be there, and Uncle Sam from the farm with his father, Neville. The house would be groaning at the seams as always. He knew Rose would like his sister and surely Jake would be there too. He wouldn’t stay away for Christmas. It would be a perfect opportunity for Zena and Jake to talk and for Rose and himself to come to an understanding. A few visits and she would forget her shyness and her insistence on secrecy. Christmas was going to be perfect.
Jake was walking along a London street where many of the houses were derelict, doors and windows missing, holes where slates had fallen from the roofs into front gardens that were already filled with abandoned rubbish and remnants of earlier attempts to repair the once elegant properties. A few squatters found the place from time to time and were regularly chased out, often late at night. He could imagine Zena’s reaction if she could see the awful place he called home.
There were many things he didn’t tell Zena. It was a painful disappointment when he reached London to be told he would not be offered the job about which he had boasted to everyone. He had been exaggerating as he usually did. He’d been invited to attend an interview only, but had been sure that the job would be his. Instead, he had been offered a menial post as a caretaker and messenger for the firm, called Cover All. They bought and supplied industrial clothing – at least that part of his story had been true. He delivered local papers and sometimes collected payments.
He had given Zena the address of the friend Stanley, who had heard of the vacancy and persuaded him to apply, but there was no room for him to stay there. He lived in a decrepit multi-tenanted house and the post was often thrown away before the owner picked it up.
Madeleine, one of the secretaries at Cover All, had agreed that Zena should write care of the office when she heard about his difficulty, promising to pass them on to him. Not before I open them and read them, she thought with a smile. Finding out about other people’s lives was a great interest to Madeleine Jones. She quickly learned that what he told his fiancé was totally untrue. That made her smile even wider.
She had befriended Jake; they had been on walks around the city and she pointed out places of interest which he stored in his memory for the time when he would be showing Zena her new home. He even made notes of things to tell her when they met at Christmas time.
Madeleine was amused by his small-town mentality, at the way he stopped and stared at everything, and admitted his ignorance of so much of what he was seeing. She couldn’t resist having a little fun. Two of Zena’s silly letters were read then thrown away. How stupid she sounded. Why didn’t she realize what was so obvious to anyone with a brain, that Jake had outgrown her and was enjoying the freedom of a new exciting life far away from her? Given one of Jake’s letters to Zena to post, she opened it intending to put it in a fresh envelope and post it on, but she was surprised at the contents. Jake was asking Zena again to marry him and come to live with him in London. She threw that one away too. She had no interest in Jake herself; he was small fry from a small pool and she looked higher than that, but it was fun to interfere in other lives and be entertained by the results.
One night as Greg and a friend were leaving the cinema he thought he saw Aunty Mabs in the main road and, as it was late evening, he was surprised. He couldn’t stop, if he missed the last bus it was a long walk. He’d probably been mistaken, Aunty Mabs didn’t like going out at night, yet he was certain it was her. She was covered up with a long coat, a scarf and woolly hat, but she was recognizable by her walk, a sort of rolling gait, like a drunken sailor he always teased. She so rarely went out in the evening and tonight was cold with an icy wind blowing and she should be safe indoors. He decided to visit the following day and ask where she had been going and use the opportunity to talk about Zena, but, as before, he let the idea drift. Tomorrow he was meeting Rose Conelly and everything else faded from his mind.
He was very attracted to the quiet, secretive girl. She was older than himself and seemed self-contained, but he nevertheless felt protective towards her. Although they had been going out for a couple of months she had told him nothing about her family or about her past. He stopped asking questions, aware that she became upset. She would tell him in her own time, he thought. Once he had broken through the shell of her reserve she would talk to him. He tried not to ask awkward questions, but if he did she was adept at changing the subject or answering without giving anything away. She brushed away compliments as though they were insults. He hoped a day would come when she would accept him as a man she could trust.
Zena spent her lunch break doing some shopping and reluctantly stepped back into the rental agency where she had been unhappy for so long. The manager confronted her, looking at his watch, aware of the five minutes she was late so, before he could begin his lecture, she gave her notice. She typed it to confirm her decision. He blustered and threatened, warning about the poor chances of getting a better job with her minimal skills, then, seeing she had made up her mind, insisted she needn’t work out her notice but leave that day. ‘Call on Monday for the monies owed to you,’ was all he said.
There were several letters on her desk. He pointed to them and she typed them as he watched, and left them on his desk ready for signature, then, with a muttered goodbye to which he didn’t reply, she left.
She wasn’t ready to go home. She felt tearful, ashamed, as though she had been sacked for some misdemeanour. Graham Broughton was obviously glad of the chance to be rid of her. She had expected to be asked to at least wait until someone could be found to take her place, not dismissed with immediate effect.
She walked aimlessly along the main road, looking in windows and seeing nothing. Then began to wonder what she would do next and, for a brief moment, she wondered whether this was the moment to join Jake in London. She glanced at the phone box but instead, she went to the library and began idly searching the jobs vacant columns. With her father ill she was needed at home for a while. The excuse was a relief. There was still a chance that Jake woul
d decide to come back home.
Browsing through the list of jobs on offer, a list of households needing a cleaner caught her eye and she wondered if doing housework for strangers might be a convenient way of filling time while she considered her options. She didn’t want anything permanent, just a way of earning some money while she decided what to do about London. She took out her notebook and wrote down names and numbers.
Picking up the post as she went into the flat, she searched through it for a letter from Jake but there wasn’t one. Jake wasn’t very good at keeping in touch. But in a few weeks’ time he’d be home and seeing him, loving him like she did, that would be the time to decide about London; when he was close, telling her how much he needed her. She threw the rest of the post onto the kitchen table and went to her parents’ house to begin making phone calls. Within a very short time she had arranged three interviews for the following day and two for that evening. A few hours later she had arranged another two interviews and had written to two others. The interviews went well and she had found two clients.
She rang her mother at the stationers where she worked, and then went to tell Aunty Mabs. Mabs almost screamed her approval. ‘Good on you, gel. Some sense at last, just when I was beginning to give up on you.’ Only then did she go to the phone box to leave a message for Jake.
She felt ridiculously excited. It was like being let out of a cage, she thought and wondered why it had taken her so long to make the move. The job had made her unhappy for a long time. The office phone of Cover All rang for a long time but no one answered. Then she realized that it was past 5.30 and the office would be closed. She tried the flat he shared but was told the number was incorrect. She was deflated at not being able to tell him. There was one more number to try. Jake often went out with his friend, Stanley, where he’d stayed when he first went to London and he might possibly be there.
‘Hello, are you Stanley? It’s Zena, Jake’s fiancé. You don’t know where Jake might be, by any chance, do you?’
‘His fiancé?’ the voice queried.
‘Yes, Zena Martin, Jake’s fiancé. You must have heard of me!’
‘Oh, Zena, yes, I had someone else on my mind and—Sorry but I don’t know where he is, he wasn’t at the office today. Have you tried the house?’
‘It doesn’t matter, he’s sure to phone me at Mam’s as he’s coming home in about a week, but if you see him, will you ask him to call me?’
Still sounding a bit bemused, Stanley promised to pass the message on if he saw Jake. Mildly puzzled by Stanley’s vagueness Zena thanked him and rang off.
Packing a suitcase she prepared to go to her parents’ house where she had arranged to stay the weekend. About to leave, she was dismayed when there was a loud, imperious banging on the door. At once she thought it was bad news about her father and, serious-faced, she opened it and, to her delight and relief it was Jake.
‘Jake!’ she gasped, dropping the suitcase, raising her arms to hold him.
‘That’s me.’ he said, laughing. ‘How’s my girl?’ He lifted her up in a bear hug. ‘I was sitting alone in the flat, feeling so lonely and suddenly I had to see you, so I dashed to the station, caught a train, and here I am.’ Then he saw the small suitcase standing near the door. ‘What’s this? Not going away, are you? Why didn’t you tell me, love?’
‘I was going to stay the weekend with Mam and Greg, but that was before I opened the door and saw you standing there.’ She didn’t tell him she had been trying to get in touch to tell him and Stanley hadn’t known where he was. That was explained by his arrival although it was strange that Stanley seemed not to know of his whereabouts. She pushed the thought aside; this unexpected weekend was not going to include a moment of criticism. He was here because he couldn’t wait to see her.
The weekend was wonderful, being so unexpected they had no plans made and everything they did was on impulse. They walked into the theatre without looking first to see what was playing; going into town and catching the next bus to arrive uncaring of where it would take them. Eating at expensive restaurants or at a market stall, everything was fun.
Seeing him leaving on the Sunday evening was emotional. They clung to each other as the train puffed importantly into the station.
‘Please come to London, darling girl. Every weekend will be as good as this one’s been,’ he whispered, as his train stopped at the platform. She was tempted to say yes and go back to the flat and start packing. Her mind raced during those few minutes with the fact that she had no job to worry about, there was nothing to hold her, apart from letting a few prospective clients down. Then thoughts of her family intervened and she didn’t say the words that Jake wanted to hear.
‘I’ll see you next weekend,’ she said, but he shook his head.
‘Sorry, love. I can’t promise to get home for a while. I have to go to Belgium, not sure where after that, see. I’ve gone international remember! I’m visiting the factories where the garments are made to negotiate on price and delivery dates. It’s wonderful and something I’m very good at. Zena, love, we’ll be rich one day, just believe me. And London is the place to enjoy being rich.’
The first thing Zena had to do before starting work as a domestic cleaner was to buy a bicycle. It wasn’t as smart or as road-worthy as the new Raleigh sports bike Jake had given away. Zena remembered she had asked why he had given her property away and he’d hugged her and said he knew she would understand. The bike was in the shed getting more and more in need of care and there was Jennie Morris needing one, desperate to be able to get to work visiting patients in their homes. Zena knew Jennie Morris, she was one of the team now helping her father. She had admitted she had rarely used it but now, because of Jake’s generosity with her property, she had to buy another she thought with mild exasperation.
A few days later, with a second-hand bicycle, much more ancient that her previous machine, she began work in four of the five houses at which she’d had an interview. One she wasn’t sure of; there was a hint at being treated like a servant and, cleaner she might be, she wasn’t prepared to accept the woman’s low opinion of her intelligence and abilities and being treated accordingly.
Roy Roberts was a retired delivery driver, in pain with arthritis and struggling to be independent, insisting he could cope with many of the tasks she offered to do for him He was considerate, and struggled to make her a cup of tea, apologizing for not having any cake to offer her. Zena warmed to him at once and decided to bring him a cake on subsequent visits. She found extra jobs that needed doing and left happy that she had helped.
She met his neighbour, who called him a ‘cantankerous old devil.’ ‘He refuses all my offers of help. Perhaps, as he’s paying you, he’ll agree to accept help,’ she said. ‘I’m afraid he’ll fall when he’s trying to do things he shouldn’t. On the shed roof he was last week, would you believe!’
Zena looked back to where Mr Roberts was stretching up to close a window. Zena was about to offer help but Doris shook her head and she smiled and went on her way.
Nelda Grey was divorced with two children and was the manageress of a craft shop and café in part of the large property called Ilex House. Her home was full of beautiful things and, as they were muddled together with half-finished craft projects and boxes of materials for making them, three large dogs and two cats that came to her at once hoping for food, it was a household she thought of as completely scatty.
In the middle of the chaos, Nelda was knitting the handle of a child’s bag decorated with glittering buttons and embroidery in a flower decoration. She put it down and spread her arms in a light hearted way. ‘Can you do anything for us, Miss Martin?’
‘I hope so, and please, call me Zena.’
‘Then you’ll consider working here?’
‘I’d like to give it a try and, if you’re satisfied, we’ll make it a regular. What about twice a week for a few weeks then we can settle for a weekly call.’
‘I doubt that,’ Nelda said. ‘But twice a
week for a while sounds good to me.’
‘You have two children?’
‘I promised them a trip to the pictures if they stayed upstairs until you’re gone. If you met them first you’d change your mind about coming!’
Zena thought she’d better get it over with and Nelda called, ‘Bobbie? Georgie? Come on down and say hello to Miss ... Zena. Politely mind,’ she warned.
Unexpectedly it was two girls who appeared. ‘Hello, which one is Bobbie and which is Georgie?
‘I’m Bobbie so you can work out who she is,’ the nine-year-old said cheekily, pointing a thumb at her four-year-old sister. They solemnly shook her hand and sat on a pile of clutter on the floor and stared at her in silence. Zena decided it was time for a diplomatic retreat.
Her third call was on Mrs Janey Day. The comparison between this and the previous house made her smile. The house was large, the rooms expensively furnished and immaculate. Mrs Day also employed a gardener and a nanny for the children. Zena learned that she was a dedicated charity worker and her husband was very wealthy. Arrangements were swiftly made for a day and time and Zena was on her way. She rode back to Llyn Hir thinking about the various people and their very different attitudes to life.
She hadn’t told Jake about leaving the lettings agency, determined for there not to be even a slight disagreement during their wonderful weekend. She decided to phone him and tell him as soon as possible, but, as usual, he was difficult to reach. She had made another decision too. She moved back to live permanently with her parents and her brother. Aunty Mabs found her a short-let tenant for the flat and, when that was settled, she tried again to contact Jake to let him know.
Eventually a message reached him and he phoned her mother’s house. She explained first about her change of occupation.
‘Zena, lovely girl, that’s marvellous! Give me time to find us somewhere decent to live then we can marry quickly and quietly, without any fuss and—’
The End of a Journey Page 2
