by June Tate
To this end, she took a couple of days off, packed a small case and bought a return ticket for the ferry to the Isle of Wight. She planned to book into a B&B and look around at the price of property on the island to get some idea of what she had to face if she decided to move there as planned. She decided to start in Cowes, a good centre for tourists.
It was a balmy, sunny day and, once on board, she found a seat on deck and settled down for the journey. Halfway there, she walked down to the bar to order a sandwich and a gin and tonic. This really wasn’t a bad way to spend her time, she thought, as she sipped her drink.
When she arrived at her destination, she wandered around the small streets of the town, thinking how very picturesque it was. She looked in the windows of several estate agents and was pleased to see there were many properties for sale, but as yet none that caught her eye. The prices varied, of course, and this was a popular centre for the yachting crowd who, no doubt now that the war was over, would soon be back sailing. There were those that could afford such luxuries, of course, and there were always moneyed people in the world.
She saw a notice for B&B at the end of the town and booked in for two nights. Then after having some lunch, she caught a bus to Shanklin and soon fell in love with the place.
Shanklin, with its narrow streets and thatched cottages, was everyone’s idea of a perfect English village and Belle knew instinctively, that this was where she wanted to settle. She sought out the nearest estate agents and walked in.
The young man greeted her and asked her to take a seat at his desk. ‘What can I do for you, miss?’
‘I’m looking for a property to turn into a bed and breakfast,’ she told him. ‘Nothing too big. I’m looking for something with two or three bedrooms I could let.’
He showed her several on his books, but none of them appealed to her.
‘Just a moment,’ he said and went to pick up some papers from a filing cabinet. ‘This house came in recently and we’ve only just put the file together.’
Belle looked at the double-fronted Victorian house and loved it, but she was sure the price would be beyond her.
‘Why is this on the market?’ she asked.
‘It’s a sad story,’ said the young man. ‘A family owned it, but the elderly couple died, then the son who lived there was killed in the war and his widow doesn’t want to stay there anymore. Too many painful memories, you know. She wants a quick sale.’
Belle’s heart began to beat wildly. Taking a deep breath, she asked, ‘Any chance of looking at it now?’ To her joy, he said yes.
As soon as she walked in the front door, Belle thought she’d come home. There was a feeling of tranquillity about the place. It was double-fronted with lovely old tiles on the hall floor, a sitting room to the right, a dining room to the left and behind a kitchen, utility room and outside toilet. Upstairs were three large bedrooms and a smaller room, which would take a single bed or a small double. There was a wardrobe and across the hall, a family-sized bathroom. On the landing was a good sized airing cupboard.
Apart from needing a lick of paint, it wasn’t in bad shape.
‘What are they going to do about the furniture?’ she asked.
‘Well, I know the lady is hoping to sell it with the house, otherwise it’ll go to a sale room. Perhaps you’d like to see the garden?’ he suggested.
They walked outside. The garden wasn’t too big, Belle thought. It had a lawn, a few flower beds and a garage.
‘Perhaps you’d like to look round on your own and get a feel of the place. I’ll sit in the garden and wait, if you like?’
‘Thank you,’ Belle said, ‘that’ll be great.’
As she slowly wandered into each room, she pictured how it would look after she’d painted it. The furniture was alright for now and when she’d made some money she could replace it piece by piece. But would the price be too much?
They walked back to the office and she asked the question holding her breath, as she waited for the answer.
The young man looked at his papers. ‘The lady is asking three hundred and fifty pounds,’ he said.
‘Right,’ said Belle. ‘Tell her I’ll buy it lock, stock and barrel for three hundred . . . cash!’
He looked surprised. ‘Well, Miss . . . ?’
‘Newman, Belle Newman. I’m staying at this address in Cowes.’ She gave him a card the owner of the B & B had given her. ‘Call me when you’ve spoken to her and if she’s agreeable and can give me a quick sale, she can have the money as soon as we exchange the deeds.’ She rose from her seat. ‘If you can find out by this evening, all the better. I’ll be there after seven o’clock.’
The young man grinned at her. ‘All I can say, Miss Newman, is I wish all my clients were as quick to make up their minds as you are. My life would be so simple.’
Belle laughed. ‘Let’s hope the outcome is successful for both our sakes.’
As she walked to the bus stop, she prayed that everything would work out. She wanted that house so much, she could hardly breathe. When she returned to her B & B, she told the landlady she was expecting a call and would be in her room.
To fill in the time, she tried to keep busy to give herself something to think about, but she was on edge and when she heard the telephone ring, she opened the door and waited.
‘Miss Newman,’ the landlady called.
Belle was down the stairs almost before she’d finished. Her hands shook as she took the receiver. ‘Belle Newman speaking,’ she said.
‘Ah, Miss Newman, I’ve been in touch with the lady who owns the house, well, her mother actually. The owner is away and doesn’t return until tomorrow, so I’ve left a message.’
Belle felt suddenly deflated. ‘I see, thank you. Have you any idea what time she’s due back?’
‘Late morning and I’ve asked that she call me as soon as she walks in the door,’ He chuckled softly. ‘I know how much you want that house.’
‘Thank you so much. I’ll get a bus to your office, just in case and if the answer is no, I’ll have to look around for something else.’
‘Let’s hope that won’t be necessary,’ he said.
Whilst Belle was trying to buy her dream house, Cora had moved into her new abode and was settling in, getting to know her surroundings. She was enjoying being alone in her own place, one that no longer was used for anything but her own comfort. She inspected the surrounding small shops and found the market. She loved to hear the banter among the stallholders and soon realised she was thrilled with her new life change.
She missed her friend Belle, of course, and in a funny way the shabby, dangerous streets of Southampton’s docklands and the lowlife that crept around the area. But also the good people she’d known for so long.
The Underground was another way to get around and she was using it to discover the city. She walked in Hyde Park, stood in front of Buckingham Palace and took time to visit the Tower of London. All the places she’d read about, but had never seen. Using the clothing coupons that Joe Keating had given her, she bought two black skirts and two white blouses, all ironed, ready for her first day at work.
She’d encountered a few of the other residents that shared her building. There was an elderly couple on the ground floor, a young man on hers and an older gentleman whom she met at the front door one day. They’d all been friendly and said ‘Hello,’ or ‘Good Morning,’ which was nice. But tomorrow she started work.
She went to the shared bathroom and took a bath. Afterwards, she laid out her clothes for the morning, wisely choosing comfortable shoes which she polished until they shone brightly. Checking her purse to make sure she had change for the Underground and after tidying her room, she climbed into bed.
Chapter Nineteen
Belle took a bus to Shanklin just before noon and made her way to the estate agent’s office, hoping for news about the house she wanted. The estate agent was on the telephone as she entered and he motioned to her to take a seat.
‘I see,’ he
said to his caller. ‘Well, if that’s what you want to do. Will you let me know your position as soon as possible?’ He listened for the reply and then said, ‘Thank you. I’ll wait to hear from you.’
He looked across his desk at Belle with pursed lips and a frown creasing his forehead.
‘That was the lady who owns the house.’
Belle saw his expression and feared the worst.
‘It seems now that she actually has an offer on the house she’s got cold feet.’
‘You mean she backed out?’
‘Not exactly,’ he paused. ‘She just wants to go back and look around it and make doubly sure she’s doing the right thing and she’ll get back to me.’
Belle was devastated. ‘Do you think she’ll change her mind?’
‘To be honest, I don’t know. But I suppose you can understand her quandary. After losing her husband, the house holds too many memories, but, of course, in those circumstances, memories are all you have to cling to.’
‘Yes,’ said Belle. ‘I can understand that, but nevertheless I need a house and that’s the only one on your books that I like. I’ll take myself off and see if I can find anything else just in case. I’ll come back here and see you before I go back to Cowes, but I’m leaving for Southampton tomorrow morning.’
He rose to his feet and opened the door for her. ‘I’ll see you later.’
Belle walked away, thoroughly depressed. She felt sorry for the young widow, but she had to plan her own future.
She visited two other estate agents, but didn’t like anything on their books. She went into a cafe for some lunch and eventually walked back to the original agent, keeping her fingers crossed that he would have some news for her.
He didn’t. ‘Sorry, Miss Newman, but I’ve not heard a word.’
Taking out a pen, Belle asked for a piece of paper and wrote down her address. ‘I’m not on the phone,’ she said, ‘so you’ll have to write to me and let me know the lady’s decision.’
He promised to do so and she caught a bus back to the B & B and packed ready to leave in the morning.
In London, Cora had spent her first day at her new job. The manageress had been thorough, if not abrupt in showing her how she liked to work, where the stock was kept, and the way to approach the customers and how to help them in the fitting room, leaving the other assistant to attend to the shop, stepping in when she was required.
‘Are there any questions you’d like to ask me?’ she said at the tea break.
‘Just one really,’ said Cora. ‘With the need for clothing coupons, how do you keep so busy?’
‘I don’t consider that’s any of my business and certainly none of yours. We are here to give a service to the public and that’s all.’
Cora felt like a naughty schoolgirl who’d been reprimanded by the head teacher and her cheeks flushed. Remembering how she’d been given such coupons, Cora assumed that the customers were in a position to buy what they needed. There was a price for everything really, especially in wartime. She’d seen that for herself in her previous life and here in this shop, no questions were asked, even among the staff.
The rest of the day was spent going through the clothes on show, familiarising herself with what was where, so she would look professional when faced with a customer. Eventually she made her way home.
Opening the window, she made a cup of tea and climbed out onto the fire escape where she settled and watched what was happening below. She found it fascinating, if not a little noisy, but as she discovered later, when the shops had closed and people had gone home, it was a reasonably peaceful place.
After cooking a meal on her two burners, she sat and wrote to Belle, telling her about her day and hoping that Belle was doing alright. She described the flat and her perch outside the window and what she’d observed sitting there.
It’s quite fascinating living here. Everything is so different to a seaport town. The air smells different and the pace is faster as everyone seems to be in such a rush. I can’t wait for you to visit so I can show you around. I went to the Tower of London. You wouldn’t believe the Crown Jewels!
She finished her letter, put it in an envelope and addressed it ready to post the following morning. Afterwards, she walked to the bathroom, washed, then climbed into bed. Tomorrow she was working on the shop floor and could hardly wait.
Hildy née Dickson, now Miller, had returned to work after her twenty-four hour honeymoon spent at the Polygon Hotel. Milt was ready to sail back to America and she was now listed as his wife and on the list of GI brides to be shipped across the Atlantic at a later date – as yet unknown. She kept fingering her wedding ring, still not used to the idea that she was now a married woman.
She’d arranged with the foreman to accept phone calls from Milt at certain times, so at least she could hear his voice, but today would be the last one, as the ship was due to sail for New York the next afternoon and the men would be boarding early in the morning.
Having been called to the office, she picked up the phone. ‘Hello, this is Mrs Miller speaking,’ she said laughing softly.
‘Hello darling. This is your husband here. How are you?’
‘Fine, wishing you weren’t leaving so soon. I won’t hear your voice again until I arrive in the States. Have you heard anything about that yet?’
‘No, honey. There’s a hell of a lot of troops to be returned first and then they can sort a passage for the wives, so it might be some time. We just have to be patient.’
‘I know, it’s just so hard.’
‘Think of it this way: it’ll give me time to get a place for us to live and get it all gussied up for when you come over.’
They talked for twenty minutes, then Milt had to go. ‘Look after yourself, Hildy, I’ll write often. I love you, darling.’
‘I love you too and I’ll write often.’ She put the phone down, tears in her eyes.
The foreman looked at her and said, ‘Take ten minutes and go and have a cigarette before you go back to your machine.’
Hildy just nodded, too full of emotion to speak.
The Queen Mary, still wearing her wartime grey paint – now nicknamed The Grey Ghost – pulled out of Southampton docks packed with troops. The public rooms had all been stripped of their finery and were now full of line after line of bunk beds.
Milt had told her there was no point in coming to the docks to see the ship sail as there were thousands of troops on board and little hope of him being on deck to wave goodbye to her. In one way she was relieved. It was bad enough to say goodbye over the phone, but to see the ship sail would have been even worse. Instead, she went to the pictures and lost herself in the story on the screen, blotting out her sadness. Then, when she went home she soaked in a hot bath and went to bed.
Hildy’s mother was facing her own problems. Olive had no job, no lodger and no longer a daughter to bring in the money needed for rent and food. Olive had a little savings, but was having to use that to survive. She’d applied for several jobs unsuccessfully and eventually, out of necessity, had to take one as a cleaner in a local pub, which she thought was greatly beneath her. She’d placed another advertisement in the newsagent for another lodger but as yet no one had answered. This only made her more embittered as she knelt scrubbing floors, trying to clean the spilt sticky beer from the lino, washing the many glass cloths and polishing the long counter. She dare not complain because she needed the job too much.
Whilst Olive was hiding her discontent, Belle was trying to cope with her fear of losing the house in Shanklin she’d hoped to buy. It had been three days now and she’d not heard a word from the estate agent. She’d almost given up hope when at last she received a letter from him. She held her breath as she opened the envelope. Then she let out a cry of joy.
Dear Miss Newman,
I’m happy to tell you that eventually I’ve heard from the owner of the house you liked and the good news is that she’s ready to sell. Can you give me a call and, if you’re still interes
ted, I’ll have the contract drawn up.
Yours faithfully,
John Pope
Interested? Of course she was still bloody interested! Belle rushed out of the house, down the road to the phone booth and dialled the number of his office.
‘Mr Pope, Belle Newman here. Please go ahead. Let me know when to come over with the money and I’d like to move as fast as possible.’
He replied that he would do so and he’d be in touch.
Belle was delighted. At last she could start her new life. Well, in a few weeks when everything was settled, but in her heart she knew that until she held the deeds in her hand and paid over the money, she wouldn’t feel safe. But tonight she was going to celebrate. Knowing that Hildy was feeling down, she invited her to join her that evening.
‘We’ll go and celebrate our new beginnings. What do you say?’
Hildy readily agreed.
It was quite a night. The two women went on a pub crawl. Halfway through the evening, Belle wisely decided they should eat, so they went into a cafe and then continued drinking until closing time, leaving the last pub, slightly unsteady on their feet.
Belle suggested they sleep at her place as it was nearer, though on arrival they almost fell through the door, so they had a cup of coffee and went to bed, waking in the morning with a fearful hangover.
‘Remind me never to go drinking with you again,’ moaned Hildy as she swallowed a couple of aspirins with a cup of tea. She nibbled on a piece of toast and held her head.
Belle was no better. It had been a long time since she’d felt so bad, but she said, ‘Well, we had a lot to celebrate.’
