Letters to Alice

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Letters to Alice Page 24

by Rosie James

Gran frowned briefly. She hoped he’d turn the corner soon and start getting better, though he wasn’t looking good, anyone could see that. Still, those tablets were proving the life-saver, and anyway, knowing him, he wasn’t going to give up that easily. He was a brave, strong, determined man. Even when he was a little boy, he’d been strong and brave…

  Brave enough to tolerate the brutal beatings he’d had from his father with barely a whimper. Just standing there, taking it. And she had had to be brave, too, to watch it going on and know that there was not a thing that could be done about it. What happened behind closed doors, in people’s homes, was their business and no one else’s. No law existed which could prevent it.

  She stopped for a moment to take her hankie from her bag and wipe her eyes free of the tears which were actually running down her cheeks. She looked around quickly to see if anyone was looking…seeing her cry in public would never do.

  Crying was just one of the other things you never did in public.

  It would be decades before so-called “domestic abuse” was acknowledged as a criminal act, and where found guilty, the perpetrators severely punished by law.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Christmas 1944

  It was hard to believe that this was the sixth Christmas since the beginning of the war. And despite everything, the time had gone quickly for the three girls.

  At 9am, Alice, Fay and Eve took their places on the little train which would take them to the main line for their connecting link. In an hour and a half they would all be home – and although none of them would admit it – it felt as if they were leaving home, rather than returning there.

  Last night, the night before Christmas Eve, Mabel, as usual, had put her ancient decorations up everywhere, had found some paper hats for everyone to wear (and everyone did, including farmer Foulkes), the turkey had been roasted to succulent perfection, and the glorious pudding! Rich with fruit, and accompanied by custard sauce laced with so much brandy it took their breath away…

  Afterwards, they’d all exchanged little gifts, and the atmosphere in the warm kitchen – even with all the week’s fresh laundry airing there above their heads – was close to idyllic, Alice had thought. The surroundings perhaps not quite like Clifton, but equally enjoyable. Equally unforgettable. And she would never forget any of this, ever.

  Her eyes moistened slightly as she thought of days gone. Thought of the Carmichaels…and when Helena would return home. The war was drawing to a close – everyone knew that – so perhaps plans were already in hand for her to go back to Clifton. That huge house with just her and the professor mostly in residence, would be rather lonely for her after spending so long with her family in Wales…both sets of twins were still in their boarding schools, and would probably follow Sam on to further education.

  Sam… They hadn’t written for a while. Well, friendships, even close friendships peter out eventually unless you stayed close – physically close. Time and separation saw to that. Unless each party decided otherwise.

  And now there was Sam and Millicent.

  ‘Wha’ ya’ crying for?’ Fay demanded, making Alice nearly jump out of her skin.

  ‘Not crying!’ Alice said quickly. ‘I think I’ve got a cold coming…Gloria won’t like me if I have!’ She wiped her nose furiously with her hankie and sat back, and Eve said –

  ‘I’ve got something for a cold.’ She opened her bag and produced three bars of Fry’s milk chocolate, part of her precious points allowance. Sweets had been rationed for almost two years now. ‘Here, don’t eat it all at once.’ She handed the chocolate around. ‘Wasn’t it lovely last night.’ she said as she began unwrapping hers. ‘I feel as if I’ve had my Christmas already!’ Well – tomorrow at home couldn’t possibly compete with the convivial atmosphere at the farm. Her parents were not party people. But still, it would be good to see them…and more than good that they were still alive. Eve shuddered at the thought that they might have been victims of that dreadful Blitz…

  No, it was really good that she was going home to see them…

  Fay folded her arms. ‘I’ve certainly had my Christmas,’ she announced. ‘For me, it’ll be the best one yet.’ Her father had had a fatal heart attack a week after she’d been there. She had attended the funeral for her mother and her gran’s sakes…and to seek a certain forgiveness for herself…

  The others looked at her, and Alice said – ‘The first one without your father, Fay…that might be a bit sad, won’t it – well, for your mum and your gran…’ The girls hadn’t been left in any doubt about Fay’s feelings for her father from the first day they’d all met.

  ‘Yes, I should think so,’ Fay said. But she didn’t want to go on. After she and Roger had shared confidences earlier in the year, she was feeling better about everything, about herself, than she had done all her life. Roger had told her to put her past behind her, and she was going to…

  There was silence after that for a bit, until they pulled in at Chippenham. Then they changed trains, and soon they were really on their way, Eve getting out first at Bath. She left the carriage and slammed the door, then looked in at them through the open window.

  ‘Have a good time,’ she said, ‘and see you all on Wednesday.’ Dear Roger had insisted on driving over to pick them all up the day after Boxing Day and take them back to the farm. He never missed an opportunity to do that.

  Alice walked up the familiar little path to Gloria’s house, noting in the sitting room window the cardboard cut-out of Father Christmas, beaming out at her jovially. Gloria was still so young at heart, Alice thought fondly. It was good to think that there was a home here, still waiting for her when the war was over.

  The door opened to her first ring, and Gloria stood there, all smiles. ‘Alice – sweetheart! Come in out of the cold!’

  Alice went straight up to her room to unpack her small bag, and the larger one holding the presents…she’d brought some for Dora as well, because Alice knew that Dora would be there having Christmas lunch with them tomorrow…to dispense any local gossip she’d found out and of course to read the teacups. Alice made a face to herself as she recalled the “message” which Dora had once found in Alice’s tea leaves…the one about love and a wedding ring…and how stupidly she’d wanted to believe it. Had wanted to believe that there was something in that ridiculous nonsense.

  At midnight, Alice knelt with Gloria at the altar rail to receive communion. And although she didn’t have everything in the world she wanted, Alice could only feel grateful. Grateful for the way things had turned out since the death of her mother. The biggest thing of all, of course, was that everyone she loved had survived the war, would still be there when it was finally all over, and be able to resume and get on with their lives. And she would be able to get on with hers, too, because she had Gloria’s home to come back to – a chance find in that Western Daily Press advert – and her job waiting for her at the estate agent’s office – thanks to her RSA qualifications. (Thank you, Helena.) And almost more important than any of that, she had formed a friendship with two girls whom she would never have met if it hadn’t been for the war. Like two sisters she had never had. And Alice knew that they would remain friends for ever.

  She fingered the tiny anchor at her neck. That gift from her mother so many Christmases ago that she had never removed.

  Stay grounded, stay on an even keel…

  After they’d finished their Christmas lunch, Alice, Gloria and Dora sat around the fire opening their presents.

  ‘I wonder if the war will be over this time next year,’ Gloria said, adding another lump of coal. ‘Everyone says it will be…and luckily for us, we didn’t have any of those terrible doodlebug raids like the poor Londoners did a few weeks ago. Poor things – what they’ve had to put up with! And let’s hope that was Hitler’s last gasp! But, well, we’ve got away with it for a long time now, haven’t we, and to actually hear all the bells ring out again will be the best day in the whole world, won’t it?’

 
; The others agreed, and Alice, glancing at Gloria, thought she had never seen the older woman look so lovely. There was just something about her. Her hair was still quite long, but she’d done something to it…had it styled, or even tinted, perhaps? And although her face was certainly very lined, her blue eyes, the way they sparkled when she spoke, seemed extra bright, somehow. Well, Gloria kept herself fit, always doing things for others…she had a happy nature, something which had struck Alice on their very first meeting.

  Presently – ‘Now, then, who’s for a cuppa?’ Gloria got to her feet and went into the kitchen to put the kettle on, while the others cleared up all the wrapping paper and took their places at the dining room table. The cups and saucers were already there, waiting.

  Alice took a long time sipping her tea, because she just didn’t want to join in this stupid antic, waiting for Dora to come out with stuff she made up on the spur of the moment. But presently, Alice relented – after all, it was harmless enough, surely. She finished her tea, and dutifully swilled the last drops around and tipped them out into her saucer, waiting for Dora to examine Gloria’s first. And Oh my word…Dora had plenty to say to Gloria!

  ‘Gloria – I can see a big change coming in your life,’ she said solemnly. ‘In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite so plainly – not since I started doing the readings.’ She paused, and stared down into the cup of revelation again. She decided to get the nondescript stuff over with first. ‘Your health – as usual – is tip-top,’ she said, ‘but…wait a minute…there is a warning about an ankle…perhaps a slight strain or something. Nothing to worry about, but do be careful for the next few months, won’t you, just in case.’ Dora took another drink of her own tea to hang things out a bit longer. Then –

  ‘Gloria – wait a minute…Gloria, there are definite signs here of a romance!’ Dora was defying anyone to contradict her… ‘In fact, I would go as far as to say there is to be a wedding, because the gold ring I can see is so big it is dominating the rest of the leaves.’

  She sat back with an air of triumph. She didn’t often have such exciting news to impart, because to be perfectly honest not much went on for folk any more. Well, not for most people after you’d reached a certain age. Usually, it had to be enough for Dora to reassure her clients about their health and general well-being, things like that.

  But this particular Christmas cup of tea leaves had a very special feel to it…it was almost giving her shivers down the spine.

  Alice spoke first, feeling irritated. ‘Dora – you’ve said that before,’ she pointed out, ‘and to the best of my knowledge, there were no wedding bells then, were there?’

  Dora wasn’t put off by that. ‘Occasionally, these things take time to evolve,’ she said coolly. ‘All I’m saying is, there’s a wedding ring in Gloria’s leaves.’ She glanced across at Gloria, frowning. ‘You haven’t got a far-off niece somewhere, have you, Gloria, someone close to you who may be deciding to tie the knot? Or anyone else somewhere in the family?’

  Gloria shook her head. ‘No…no I don’t think so, no one I can think of anyway,’ she said. Then – ‘Oh dear,’ She looked at Dora and Alice, her face reddening. Then she took a deep breath. ‘The fact is,’ she said, ‘I do have some news which I wasn’t supposed to say anything about to anyone…not for a week or two, not until certain things have happened.’

  ‘Go on, go on!’ Dora instructed. Was this to be her greatest moment?

  Gloria took another deep breath. ‘It’s just that, unofficially, I am engaged to be married,’ she said. She looked across at Alice and touched her hand briefly. ‘But this will not affect you in any way, Alice…I made that clear to my…to my intended as soon as he proposed. This home is your home for as long as you want it.’

  It was a good job that Alice was sitting down, or she might have collapsed to the floor. Gloria getting married again! Such a thought had never crossed Alice’s mind, because she had heard so much about Gloria’s first marriage, the wonderful husband she’d had…that she would love him for ever, that he was irreplaceable. But…that was a long time ago. Everyone deserved a second chance, if it came along, and Gloria was an attractive woman. Why not?

  But Dora couldn’t contain herself a moment longer. ‘There you are!’ she almost shouted in glee. ‘I told you! How wonderful, Gloria! And how exciting!’

  Gloria raised her hand briefly. ‘Look, I said the news is unofficial because he hasn’t told his family yet.’ She paused. ‘He has two children from his first marriage – both grown up, now, of course – who I haven’t met yet. He is going to tell them this week, and then we will all be going out to dinner on New Year’s Eve…to get to know each other. And before you ask, if all goes well we shall have a very quiet wedding at Holy Nativity around Easter time. The time of fresh hope,’ she said.

  Alice got up and put her arms around Gloria’s shoulders, hugging her tightly. ‘Congratulations, Mrs. Hammond,’ she said. ‘Whoever this gentleman is, I know you will be happy, because you make everyone else happy. I couldn’t be more thrilled for you,’ she added.

  Gloria hugged Alice just as tightly. The girl had been the lodger from heaven from the first day she’d turned up at the door.

  Gloria decided that she should tell them just a little more.

  ‘His name is Don Travers – and we’ve known each other for more than twenty years,’ she said slowly. ‘He’s been a regular visitor because he’s called for the insurance money every week, and always stays for a cup of tea and a chat. His wife died just before the war started,’ she added.

  Dora sat back, feeling ten feet tall. She knew she’d seen a wedding ring amongst those tea leaves!

  But Alice’s thoughts didn’t quite match that of the others. Whatever Gloria had said about this being her home for as long as she wanted it, Alice knew that her days here were numbered. There was no chance that she was going to play gooseberry to the newly-weds…it would be difficult for all of them if she was here. She sighed inwardly. After the war, after her farming days were over, she would have to look for somewhere else to live. And make another new start.

  Sadly for her, when it was her turn, Alice’s own tea leaves couldn’t possibly match Gloria’s and she had to be satisfied with generalizations about her health and money prospects. Anyway, no one was really interested now. Gloria had stolen all the limelight.

  Much later, after the three of them had almost finished the bottle of sherry which Dora had brought, and after Alice had, at last, sampled a glass of Gloria’s “mother’s ruin”, they went into the hall to make their goodnights.

  And as Alice went upstairs, she admitted to a slight feeling of despondency. She was naturally happy for Gloria – that went without saying – but it would mean another change in her own life which she would have to sort out.

  Gloria, meanwhile, was pleased that she’d told them her news. She didn’t like keeping secrets. Anyway, by now, Don would have broken it to his children, so very soon everyone could know.

  As for Dora – her exultation was beyond description! She knew very well that some people doubted her gift for reading the tea leaves – but after tonight, there should be no more doubters! She smiled a little, self-satisfied smile. She’d been given a gift, a gift she could share with others, and after all, any gift takes time to hone, to nurture, and to perfect. She had been doing this for many years, and tonight had to be one of her best successes yet. She felt proud.

  She hummed a little tune as she went upstairs to bed. The fact that from behind her net curtains she’d noticed that insurance man’s car outside Gloria’s house after 10 o’clock at least three times a week, for ages – had nothing to do with it. (And in Dora’s opinion, that sort of attentiveness had gone beyond the call of duty.)

  On New Year’s Eve, Roger decided that he’d ask the girls to come up to the Wheatsheaf with him to enjoy the festivities. On the final night of every year, the pub made sure that it put on a good show for the locals – there was always plenty of good st
uff to drink as well as a lot of cheap cider and beer – some on the house – the atmosphere quite different from any other night. Well, certainly rowdier, because it only needed someone to start a song, and soon the place would rock, all inhibitions forgotten.

  Now, they began getting up from the supper table, and Roger glanced at Alice, Fay and Eve. ‘Have you three got any plans for this evening?’ he asked nonchalantly – well, what plans could they possibly have on New Year’s Eve in this neck of the woods? Fay grinned across at him.

  ‘We haven’t quite decided, yet, Roger,’ she said. ‘What’s the local Palais de Dance like…in your opinion? Or that night club we spotted next to the church? Either of them worth a try?’

  ‘Just ’ark at you,’ Mabel said, smiling. ‘Sorry we ’aven’t got much in the way of night-life to offer, luvvers,’ This was the first time that the girls had spent the 31st December at the farm, always having been at home. But for some reason they had declined the opportunity to do that this year, saying they’d rather be with their “other family” on the farm. Which had thrilled Mabel to bits.

  But the fact was that everyone knew the war was drawing to a close, and under Ernest Bevin’s control, the plans for demobilization of the troops were already well in hand, and would begin formally in June next year.

  But for now, it had been Fay who’d suggested to the others that as this was quite probably the last December they’d be here, why not stay around and make the most of it? Alice, for obvious reasons, had jumped at the idea, and Eve, too, had no reason to prefer Bath. Her parents never stayed up late to see the New Year in, anyway, and it couldn’t be much fun being amongst the crowds in Abbey church yard as the countdown to midnight started. Not if you were on your own. Eve had never stayed up that late, but she could only imagine how sad it would be being by yourself amongst hundreds of jostling, happy people. It would be the loneliest thing in the world.

 

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