by June Francis
‘I am not jealous!’ Hilda kicked the rocker. She was, of course. Every time Viv went out she felt like one of the ugly sisters left behind after Cinders had won her Prince Charming. ‘And if you have the energy to answer me back and read a book, then you’re well enough to get back to work,’ she cried.
Viv said good-humouredly, ‘I’m ill, Mam. Really ill. And I thought you’d be more sympathetic. I’ve had to listen to you coughing often enough. Thank God you’ve given up the ciggies again. I’ll be going back soon enough so why don’t you go out? I’ll look after Mr Kelly. You mentioned earlier something about buying a new sofa?’
Hilda scowled. ‘Perhaps I will go. There’s nothing doing here.’
‘No, nothing while I’m here.’ Viv opened her book and pretended to read. She heard her mother whispering to Dominic and ten minutes later Hilda left the house.
Viv came in from the back kitchen with a tray upon which was all the paraphernalia for making tea. There was also a plate of buttered homemade scones. Her feelings towards Dominic were mixed. Despite her disapproval of her mother’s carryings-on with him she could not utterly dislike the man because he had always been kind to her. ‘Teabreak.’ She filled a cup and placed it on the cleared top of the sideboard.
He thanked her, put up the length of bright yellow and orange geometrical patterned wallpaper he had pasted, drank half the strong tea, and polished off two scones before saying, ‘When will you be going back to work, girl?’
Viv shrugged and sat on the edge of the rocking chair. ‘Monday, I suppose. Not that I’m particularly looking forward to it. The job can be boring.’
‘Every job can be boring. I’m surprised you never went to see that Stephen Martin after he came round. He’s got his own business, hasn’t he? Didn’t your Aunt Flo work for him?’
Viv’s heart gave a peculiar leap and Forever Amber slipped to the floor, unnoticed. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘You don’t know?’ He hesitated, scratched his head, and absently bit into another scone.
Her expression hardened. ‘Come on, Mr Kelly, you can’t stop now. You might as well tell me all of it. When did Stephen Martin come round?’
Dominic sighed heavily and finished the scone. ‘A few weeks back. Said he’d had second thoughts about seeing you. Wanted you to call on him.’
Viv scrambled to her feet, a furious expression her face. ‘I bet it was that day she said it was the man from the Pru! I bet it was! I knew someone had been! I knew she was lying! But why?’
‘Jealousy,’ said Dominic without thinking.
Viv laughed bitterly. ‘That figures. She doesn’t want anyone giving me attention. She wants it all for herself.’
Dominic said seriously, ‘Have you ever thought why that should be, girl?’
‘Ego! Conceit! Selfishness!’ Viv paced the room, her arms folded across her breasts. ‘How dare she not tell me he had called?’
Dominic shook his head. ‘The pair of you are alike and neither of you can see it.’
‘We’re not a bit alike,’ snapped Viv, her eyes glinting. ‘I don’t know how you can say that! Don’t you be telling her that you’ve told me! I want to tell her myself and watch her expression and see what excuse she comes up with!’
‘I’d rather cut me throat than tell her,’ he muttered. ‘She’ll have me life.’
Viv’s laugh had an edge to it. ‘I don’t know what you see in her, Mr Kelly. She’s sneaky and conniving!’ And on those words she stormed out of the room.
She washed and changed into a new Junior Miss dress she had bought in C & A. It was deep blue with full skirts and a bow under the bust line. She made up carefully and then hurried out of the house.
‘I thought you would have been here sooner,’ said Stephen, his eyes on her face as his strong fingers toyed with a pen, lifting the papers that littered the heavy mahogany desk.
‘My mother didn’t tell me that you’d called.’ Viv could not conceal her anger but at least it had driven away any anxiety she might have felt about meeting him again. ‘In fact, she doesn’t even know I’m here.’
‘Then how did you get to know?’
‘Someone else told me. I could kill her for keeping it from me.’
He was silent, searching for the right words. ‘It was probably partly my fault,’ be said at last. ‘We didn’t part on the friendliest of terms. I’m being honest with you now, Viv. I told her that I still wasn’t convinced that you’re Jimmy’s daughter. Having said that, I know it’s possible that I’m just plain prejudiced against your mother because of the past. I suggest we get to know each other and then maybe I’ll feel different. As you said the last time, I’ve no close family any more and I admit to being very lonely at times.’
Immediately Viv’s anger receded and her natural sympathy was roused. She leant forward and touched his hand. ‘You don’t know how happy your words make me. I’ll be glad to visit you and to talk. I want to know all about your side of my family. There’s no need for you to be lonely any more, Uncle Steve.’
His hand covered hers, sandwiching it between both of his. ‘I had this idea that maybe you could come and work for me,’ he said eagerly. ‘I’ve been doing all the paper work myself since my aunt died but it’s getting too much. I take it you can type?’
‘Of course I can.’ She did not add that she had only finished a course a short while ago and wasn’t very fast.
‘When your aunt threw me over, Viv, I thought the family line would die with me but if you are Jimmy’s daughter then it will go on and if you have children …’ His voice trailed off and his expression was dazed.
Viv had not really expected this and was almost dizzy with excitement and gratitude. She determined to go to night school and learn shorthand and business management. ‘I’ll work hard,’ she said positively. ‘I’ll make you proud of me.’
‘I’m sure you will. Perhaps there’s something of my mother in you,’ he said under her breath. ‘Jimmy wasn’t like her or me. He had the gift of the gab. He did a bit of this, a bit of that, never settled down to a proper day’s work. He’d gad about on a motorbike, supposedly finding us work.’
She assumed a sympathetic air. ‘Brothers and sisters are often different. I’ve noticed that.’
He smiled. ‘When can you start?’
Her smooth white brow puckered. ‘I’ll have to give notice but I’ll do that straightaway.’
‘Good girl. I’m sure we’ll get on.’
‘So am I.’ Her eyes shone with excitement and warmth. ‘I really will give it all I’ve got.’
‘I know you will, Viv.’ He gazed down at their hands and said, ‘It’s not far off finishing time. Perhaps you’d like to have a meal with me?’
Her cheeks flushed delicately. ‘I’d love that. Although I don’t know whether I’m suitably dressed.’
‘You look fine to me,’ he said gruffly. ‘You’ve grown into a proper young lady. I’d be proud if you were my daughter.’
‘You’re making me blush.’ Her voice was unsteady.
He released her hand. ‘Modesty becomes a woman, Viv. Just give me a few minutes while I have a word with the works manager then I’ll be with you.’
She waited impatiently, thinking how well things had turned out and how proud she would be to be in his company. Despite being scarred there was a certain attractiveness to his face, especially when he smiled, and he had a good head of hair with just enough silver in it to give him a distinguished appearance. She wondered if her mother had noted all this and her eyes darkened with anger again.
Stephen took Viv to a restaurant in Dale Street and while they waited for their first course of prawn cocktail she wondered how to broach the subject of his brother without spoiling the rapport between them, then decided it might be wiser to leave that matter alone, just for now. She searched for something to say that might interest him and would sound intelligent. Unused to conversing with older men she was unsure what to choose. In the end she plunged in with, �
�I was reading the letters in the Echo the other evening and someone had written that Liverpool had missed a golden opportunity in planning the new city by not planting more trees. What do you think, Uncle Steve, should they have planned for more trees?’
‘Trees cost money,’ said Stephen seriously. ‘And Liverpool has enough financial problems as it is without borrowing to countrify the place. Shipping is in a bad way and there’s a fair amount of unemployment in the city. They’re spending some money trying to improve the city’s appearance. The Liver Building has been cleaned and they’re doing something about all those blasted pigeons that are around. A health hazard, that’s what they are, Viv.’
‘Grandfather kept pigeons,’ she murmured, toying with the stem of her glass. ‘But he freed the last couple when he started to go funny. I suppose they helped to pollute the city, but he probably thought he was doing the right thing freeing them because he couldn’t look after them any more and I didn’t have the time.’
‘Is that why your mother came home? For your grandfather’s funeral?’
Viv could not resist a smile. ‘Not according to her. She said she came home to be a mother to me, and that if she’d had her own mother around at my age then things might have turned out different for her.’ She paused. ‘A fine one she is when she didn’t even tell me about your visit. She must have known how much it would mean to me.’
Stephen moved his knife a centimetre. ‘She was very like you at your age, but not as sensible. She was wild and would do anything for a dare and would dare anyone.’
‘Truth, dare, command or promise,’ said Viv softly, remembering the game that had been in progress in the street that night she had gone for her first walk with Nick.
‘That’s right,’ said Stephen, looking grim. ‘She dared me to challenge Tom to a wrestling bout. I don’t know why. He was older than I was and bigger.’ He stared at Viv. ‘That was your Uncle Tom, by the way. He married your Aunt Flora. Although he went out with your mother for a while before she went out with our Jimmy.’ He hesitated. ‘Hilda said something about having proof of your being Jimmy’s daughter. Something about letters when he was away in Africa.’
‘Letters!’ Viv was startled. ‘She’s never mentioned any letters to me. All I get from her is that she finds it too hurtful to talk about him.’
He nodded. ‘It could be true. There’s things in my past that I find very difficult even to think about. You could ask her about the letters. It would do no harm.’
Viv nodded but had no time to say more because their prawn cocktails arrived.
Later, after a main course of steak Diane and a dessert of apple pie and whipped cream, Stephen brought up the matter of the letters again. ‘I’d appreciate it, Viv, if you could look into that without mentioning your coming to see me. I’d really rather not have your mother breathing down my neck, putting her spoke in. She always brings out the worst in me, I’m sorry to say.’
Viv hesitated. She had been looking forward to the confrontation with her mother but realised that maybe he was right. If her mother knew that she was going to work for Stephen or was having anything to do with him then she would want to get in on the act. She would not be able to resist interfering. If her mother had been honest with her about Stephen’s visit Viv would not have thought of keeping this from her, but Hilda had been devious and now it was her turn.
‘I’ll think up some way around it,’ she murmured.
‘I’m sure you will.’ There was admiration in his eyes. ‘Now how about another coffee?’
‘Thank you.’ They smiled at each other and she was warmed by his solicitude. Life had never felt so good.
During the next few days Viv tried to think of ways of broaching the subject of the letters to her mother but it was not until she was sitting in Dot’s bedroom on Saturday that an idea came to her.
They had been to the pictures to see The Blob, and / married a Monster from Outer Space with Steve McQueen that afternoon and Viv had told her friend that she would be giving her notice in. Dot had been quite philosophical about it, saying she would miss having her around but was pleased that Stephen had come up trumps after all. It was then that Viv remembered that Dot’s father had fought in the war. As she gazed at the far wall adorned with a framed photograph of a Swiss lake, she said abruptly, ‘Dot, did your dad write to your mother during the war?’
‘Sure he did.’ She lifted her dark head from the Valentine magazine she was browsing through. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘Has your mother still got the letters?
Dot rubbed her chin. ‘Quite a few of them, tied up in pink ribbon in the bottom of her wardrobe.’
‘That’s nice,’ said Viv, smiling. ‘Real romantic’ She stood up. ‘I’ll be going now. I’ll see you Monday.’
‘You’re going already? I thought you’d stay for tea.’
‘I’ve got something to do. I might see you again later.’
Dot shook her head again in bewilderment. ‘You just said you’d see me Monday.’
‘Sorry. I’ve got something on my mind. See you when I see you.’ Without another word Viv hurried downstairs.
As she entered the house Hilda looked up. She was sitting on the new brown and beige cut moquette sofa with her bare feet up on the pouffe. There was an empty cup of coffee and an open box of Milk Tray on the floor near at hand. ‘So you’ve come home at last,’ she said crossly. ‘I suppose you’ve been out with Nick?’
‘No. He’s away at a conference. I went to the pictures with Dot and then back to her house.’ Viv sat in the rocking chair and then leant forward, adopting a friendly attitude. ‘We were talking about her father and mine, Mam. She said that her mother has a pile of letters from when her dad was away during the war. Did Jimmy ever write you any letters?’ She waited, holding her breath as her mother’s hand stilled before hovering over the box of chocolates. She picked one and bit into it.
‘I love the nutty ones, don’t you?’ she murmured.
‘Nuts for the nutty,’ said Viv drily. ‘Did you hear what I said?’
‘I heard.’ Hilda ate the chocolate deliberately slowly.
‘And?’ Viv forced herself to control her impatience.
‘I’ve got an awful dry throat.’ Hilda smiled, ran a tongue round her teeth and trailed her fingers through the remaining chocolates. ‘Perhaps you’d like to make me a coffee?’
Viv wanted to drop the chocolates on her mother’s head but instead she made the coffee.
Hilda took it with a word of thanks. She swallowed several sips, then said. ‘He wrote to me. But there are no letters now.’
‘What?’ Viv thought, she has to be lying. ‘You’re just saying that, Mam. Perhaps it’s too painful to remember?’ She could not help the sarcasm.
Hilda frowned. ‘There’s no need to be like that. There were letters but I got rid of them weeks ago.’ She lifted her shoulders and then let them drop. ‘I decided there was no point in keeping them,’ she said mournfully. ‘What was the use? He was gone.’
‘But you must have known I’d have liked to read them?’ Viv exploded. ‘How could you get rid of them, Mam? If you love someone—’
‘I once had a romantic little soul like you,’ interrupted Hilda. ‘But love doesn’t always last for ever, Viv.’
‘Then why do you always say that it hurts to talk about him? Sometimes I think you’re playing some kind of game with me, Mother,’ she lashed out in her disappointment. ‘What the hell did you do with them?’
‘I burnt them,’ said Hilda coldly. ‘I didn’t want the binmen reading them. They were private. Besides, they were full of holes where bits had been cut out for security reasons.’
‘They couldn’t have been that private then,’ responded Viv.
Hilda dropped her eyes. Taking a chocolate, she dipped it into her drink. ‘He mentioned about my having a baby. I’d told him I was expecting.’ She sucked melting chocolate from her fingers. ‘He wasn’t particularly pleased. There was his uncle, you see. He
was very fond of Jimmy and thought him the bee’s knees. Old-fashioned he was, and Jimmy knew that he wouldn’t be pleased with such news. He told me to keep quiet about him being the father until he got home.’ She sighed heavily. ‘That was when I started wondering about eternal love. Of course, he never came home.’
Viv stared at her. Was this the truth at last? It would make some sense of her mother once having said that her father was no good. ‘Honestly, Mam?’ she said softly.
‘Honest injun.’ She wriggled slightly in her seat. ‘It wasn’t easy to accept, especially when your grandfather shook me till me teeth rattled because I wouldn’t tell him who the father was.’
Viv smiled. ‘You don’t know how good this news makes me feel. I’m glad you came home after all. Do you remember what he wrote?’
‘There were lots of “sweethearts” and “love you forevers” in most of the letters.’ Hilda beamed at her. ‘Once he got over the shock he wanted to marry me, of course. He didn’t plan on casting me off like an old boot.’
‘You wouldn’t let him, would you, Mam? If nothing else you go after what you want. I’m glad you’re like that.’
‘You’re like that too,’ said Hilda, sighing slightly. ‘That’s what worries me sometimes. But as long as you feel better about it all now.’
‘I do,’ said Viv, sitting down. ‘And I understand why you were so reluctant to talk about those times … but there must have been others when you were happy?’
‘Of course there were.’ Hilda shrugged her shoulders. ‘But thinking of them makes me sad sometimes too.’
There was a silence, a long one, while each thought their own thoughts. It was on the tip of Viv’s tongue to tell her mother about Stephen then but before she could her mother spoke.
