by June Francis
‘Well, I hope she has a nice time … and you too.’ Mrs Kelly’s smile was pure syrup. ‘Maybe we’ll be hearing wedding bells soon?’
‘Oh, I’m not rushing into anything just yet. Footloose and fancy free, that’s how I like it. Who wants to be tied to a broomstick? I mean a broom handle.’ Her smile was just as syrupy as Mrs Kelly’s as she waved her fingers before walking swiftly away, her white high-heeled sandals clicking on the pavement.
Stephen had the door open swiftly, effectively blocking her view into the house. He had a suit on. ‘You look a treat,’ he said, his blue eyes appreciative.
‘Thanks.’ Hilda’s brightly painted lips titled upwards in a smile. Viv couldn’t have said anything. She wondered what was the best thing to do. Pretend the row had never happened? That Viv was still living with her? ‘I’m glad you like the dress. I bought it in that new shop that’s opened in Church Street, Joan Barrie.’
‘It’s very feminine.’ He took her arm. ‘I thought you might like to go out? It’s such a lovely evening. Maybe a meal at a little inn in the country? And if we don’t feel like coming home, we could stay the night?’
The suggestion silenced her and it was half a minute before she was able to say with a total lack of her usual composure, ‘I-I never thought you’d think of such a thing, Steve! I’d love to do that.’ It would be good to get away from the house. The last few days it had felt so empty. As for the cat, it could fend for itself.
‘Fine.’ He closed the front door behind them. ‘Let’s go then.’
She could not take her eyes off him as he steered her down the path to the car parked at the kerb. ‘This is a new Steve,’ she said as he held the car door open for her. He made no reply, only walked to the other side of the car, humming jerkily under his breath. They shot away from the kerb faster than she expected, causing her to grab the seat swiftly. ‘Good God, what’s the rush?’
‘Sorry. I got the clutch mixed up with the accelerator.’
‘I wouldn’t know the difference.’ Her voice was good-humoured. ‘That’s more like you. You’re not as confident as you sounded back there, planning a naughty weekend.’
‘Perhaps not.’ Dark colour suffused his face. ‘But I got to thinking that it wasn’t much fun for you, just coming to the house and listening to me talk.’
‘We both talk.’ She touched his knee before leaning back in her seat. ‘Where are we going?’
‘You name it.’
‘I’m no good at names. The only places I know are towns and cities. I was never one for countryside.’
‘You’d rather go to a town? Blackpool or somewhere?’
She grimaced and shifted uncomfortably. ‘It’s a long time since I’ve been to Blackpool, but I don’t think so.’ Fun place it might be but she had spent a honeymoon there and that marriage had been a disaster. She did not want any clouds on this silver lining that had turned up out of the blue. She continued, ‘I quite like the idea of the country. As long as the food’s good and the bed’s comfortable, I’ll leave it to you where we go.’
He seemed pleased about that. ‘OK. You sit back and relax. Have a sleep if you like.’
‘A sleep? You want me wide awake later, do you?’ she said in a teasing voice.
Stephen flushed and his hands tightened on the steering wheel. ‘I wasn’t thinking of that. How has your week been?’
She stared at him. Was there any hidden meaning in that question? ‘A bit fraught,’ she murmured. ‘Nothing for you to worry about.’ He nodded and she slowly stroked his thigh and noticed a muscle twitch in his cheek. She dropped her hand and closed her eyes. Later. For the first time in days she felt able to relax.
* * *
Hilda woke what seemed a short time later though it turned out to be hours. The car windows were open and she could smell air that was free of the taint of the city. ‘Where are we?’ she said drowsily.
‘By Lake Windermere.’ He smiled down at her. ‘I just kept on driving while you kept on sleeping so we ended up here.’
She sat up and looked out of the window. The car had stopped outside a large grey stone building. There were trees, grass and flowers. She could identify the scarlet flowers as geraniums and the others as french marigolds. That was thanks to Viv. She felt an ache in the region of her heart. She had never known much about flora and fauna but her daughter had begun to teach her. In the near distance lay a sheet of muted grey silvery water. It was very quiet. ‘What will we do about luggage?’ she said abruptly.
Stephen groaned. ‘I never thought of a suitcase.’ Then he shrugged. ‘I’m sure we’re not the first to stop overnight on impulse.’
Hilda agreed, a tiny smile playing round her mouth as he helped her out of the car. She could scarcely believe the change in him since the day he had visited her in spring. It was her and Viv’s doing, of course. They had brought him out of himself. Now Hilda wanted him to think he wouldn’t be able to manage without them.
They went inside and signed the register as Mr and Mrs Martin and were shown upstairs to a room under the eaves. It had an excellent view of the lake and the bed when Hilda bounced on it was comfortable. She smiled up at Stephen. ‘Not bad.’
‘No.’ He looked up from the sink in the corner. ‘I haven’t stayed here before.’ He began to dry his hands. ‘We’ll have to move if we don’t want to miss dinner.’ Hilda moved. She liked her food and there would be plenty of time later for bedtime frolics.
The food was plain but excellent. They both had a mixed grill, the full works containing fried bread, steak, chops, Cumberland sausage, black pudding and chips. A dessert was out of the question. They talked desultorily over their coffee and she toyed with the idea of asking how Viv was getting on at work but rejected it. He might wonder why she asked, having never done so before, and maybe it would alter the mood of the evening. He would not want her daughter knowing about any of this. He was a strange mixture, she thought. He could be so passionate and yet often ended up guilt-ridden afterwards. She put it down to his upbringing and wondered when he would ask her to marry him. She hoped it would be soon.
Stephen suggested a walk and Hilda groaned. ‘I doubt if I can even stand after all that food!’
He pulled her to her feet with a smile. ‘All the more reason to have a walk or we’ll both end up fat.’
She pulled a face. ‘If you put it like that, honey, then I’ll have to agree.’
He eyed her shoes and said resignedly. ‘We won’t go far.’
It was quiet except for a gentle lapping at the water’s edge. Night was sweeping over a wishy-washy grey and peach-streaked sky. It was a time when confidences could have been shared but the atmosphere somehow seemed alien to Hilda, who had always lived in big cities. It was almost as if the mountains and lake had secret lives of their own. Hell! She was getting fanciful. ‘I will lift up my eyes unto the hills from whence cometh my help.’ What would God think of this lie she was living. She clung to Stephen’s hand and said, ‘Let’s get back, I’m getting cold.’ He took off his jacket and put it round her, and again she was left speechless by his thoughtfulness.
It wasn’t until she was undressing in the cosy chintzy room that her heart suddenly jolted wildly. She realised that in neither of them mentioning Viv there was something wrong. She should have said that she had to let her daughter know that she mightn’t be home tonight and Stephen should have thought of it too! Her gaze fixed on him where he lay in bed, his shoulders naked above the covers.
‘You know, don’t you?’ she said bluntly.
‘Know what?’ His voice was cautious.
‘Don’t pretend, Steve.’ She tapped a comb against the palm of her hand. ‘You know about me and Viv having a row.’ She tried to make it sound as if it was not important. ‘You’ve been too tactful not mentioning it at all, and I’ve been just plain stupid staying quiet. But I was happy being with you and didn’t want to spoil things.’
He sat up and she could not tell if he was relieved or not. ‘I must
admit I was waiting for you to tell me.’ There was a deep timbre to his voice and she knew that he was upset. ‘She sits there, trying to work, but often she’s staring into space. Thinking of him, no doubt.’
Hilda bit her bottom lip. ‘I suppose she said I ruined her life?’
‘Have you?’
She tossed back her hair. ‘Of course not.’
His brows knitted together. ‘What have you got against the engagement, besides her youth and his mother?’
‘Aren’t they enough?’
He looked down at his hands. ‘They didn’t plan on getting married straightaway, you know. He wants to build her a house.’
‘He what?’ There was a tragic expression on her face. ‘You and she must have had a real heart to heart! I didn’t think you were that close. As for him building her a house, I don’t believe it! No man’s ever wanted to build me a house.’ She folded her arms and stared fixedly at the opposite wall.
‘Poor Hilda,’ he said softly. ‘Don’t be jealous.’
‘Jealous? Me?’ She laughed. ‘Do you know where she is?’
He was silent.
Her lips compressed. ‘She didn’t have to swear you to secrecy. I can guess where she is. At that friend of hers, Dot’s!’
He smiled. ‘She has mentioned the name several times and I know they’re doing something together tonight.’
Hilda sighed heavily. ‘Did she have anything nice to say about me at all?’
‘She’s in love and you hurt her.’
There was silence.
‘Is this Nick that bad?’ murmured Stephen.
‘No.’ Hilda sat on the bed in her flesh-coloured satin and lace underslip. She could not possibly explain about Nick. Not yet. ‘He’s a Smart Alec, though. I don’t want our Viv feeling inferior.’
Stephen stared at her in amazement. ‘There’s no reason for her to feel like that. Viv’s not stupid!’ Hilda made no answer so he changed tack. ‘Do you miss her at all?’
Hilda shrugged. ‘I’d got used to having her around. We were getting on. I know it’s a bit late in the day to be saying this but I realised in America that she was the only daughter I was likely to have.’
‘So what are you going to do to get her back?’
She hesitated. ‘I’ll wait,’ she said at last. ‘Sooner or later she’ll come home.’
He looked astonished. ‘You really believe that?’
She nodded and then smiled. ‘We surely didn’t come away to talk about Viv all the time, did we?’
‘No.’
Without more ado Hilda pulled back the covers and flung herself at him. Instinctively he caught her to him and forgot Viv. He whipped off her slip. Breast to breast he and Hilda rolled over and over on the bed: kissing, hugging, caressing, arousing. Then they slid on to the floor and made love with the lack of control of seventeen-year-olds and an energy they’d last possessed in their twenties.
Hilda was singing as she pushed her key into the lock and stepped into the front room. She’d had a lovely weekend touring beauty spots: Rydal, Grasmere, the Langdale Valley. They’d had another night in a hotel in Keswick where they had shopped and Stephen had bought her a pendant made of silver and agate, not wildly expensive but pretty.
She bent and picked up the postcard and two envelopes on the mat, looking at the postcard first, squinting at the postmark. Frejus, France. She turned it over. It was from George and addressed to Viv. Her eyes scanned the lines quickly. He was enjoying himself by the look of it but had remembered Viv’s birthday. Bit early but thoughtful of him. His father had been like that occasionally. She tapped the card against her teeth and then dropped it on the table and opened the blue envelope, a letter from her sister. Then she wished she hadn’t. Flo wanted to know if Viv and she were still getting on okay? Hilda put the letter down with the card and picked up the other envelope.
It, too, was addressed to Viv. Again Hilda squinted at the postmark. (One of these days she was going to have to get reading glasses but not yet. She felt young, young, young, and there was still plenty of life in her yet.) The envelope had a Liverpool postmark and the writing was unfamiliar. She hesitated then slit it open with a finger. There was one folded sheet which she turned up and saw the signature. Nick. She had guessed right. Should she read it? Somehow she was reluctant to do so. People revealed themselves in letters in a way they didn’t face to face and she was feeling guilty enough about Nick. He could have revealed the truth but it seemed he had kept quiet. She might start feeling really sorry for him and do something stupid.
Hilda tucked the letter back inside the envelope and put it behind the clock on the mantelpiece. Perhaps she would pass it on to Viv through Stephen, but not just yet. She made coffee and placed a fresh cream flaky pastry horn on a plate. She switched on the television and smiled as she remembered the weekend.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
‘I wish you’d hurry up,’ said Viv impatiently as she waited for Dot to finish varnishing her fingernails pearly peach. ‘Perhaps I should have stayed at Uncle Steve’s? He looked a bit worried.’
‘He’s probably glad to have you out of the way,’ murmured Dot. ‘It must take some getting used to for a bachelor, having a young nubile female in his pad. Although it was good of him the other week to let me stay a couple of nights while he was away on that business weekend.’
‘It was good of him to pay for all the paint and wallpaper, with the printers’ strike on … and to let us have a go at decorating the bedroom.’
Dot nodded. ‘I hope you’re not embarrassing him by leaving your smalls hanging all over the place?’
‘Don’t be daft!’ Viv raised her eyes heavenwards. ‘He had sisters! He knows what knickers are.’
Dot stretched out a hand and waggled her fingers in an attempt to hasten the drying process. ‘I wonder what your mother would say if she knew where you were hiding?’
‘I’m not hiding. And so far she hasn’t come looking,’ said Viv tersely.
‘Temper, temper,’ murmured Dot. ‘You told me that your Uncle Steve said that she did get in touch but doesn’t want to put pressure on you to go home. Maybe Nick’ll call at your mother’s tonight, it being your birthday, and everything will come right?’
‘I doubt it.’ Viv sighed heavily. ‘He wouldn’t want to see her, and he probably doesn’t want to see me ever again.’
‘Rubbish! A lovers’ tiff. Haven’t you heard that true love never runs smooth?’
‘Yes, but … if he wanted to find me he’d have come looking for me by now,’ murmured Viv, flicking her ponytail over her shoulder. Her hair was tied up with twisted black and white ribbons and had been tinted barley blonde. She had made an enormous effort to put on a good show. To make it appear that she didn’t have a care in the world.
‘You haven’t gone looking. And maybe he has, but doesn’t know where to find you.’
Viv stilled. ‘Do you think so?’
‘It’s possible. Think about it, Viv. But for now try and enjoy your birthday.’
‘I will, I will,’ she said, and standing up pirouetted on white stiletto-heeled shoes that had black bows fastened to them. The black rose-patterned white skirts of the shirtwaister she wore flared up, revealing several layers of white net underskirts trimmed with black bows to match those on her shoes. She wished desperately that Nick was there to see her.
‘Very nice,’ said Dot. ‘You could audition for a talent show at the Empire.’ She twisted the top back on the nail varnish so tightly that the plastic cracked. ‘Just don’t go making eyes at Phil tonight. He’s mine, remember?’ She hugged herself as she slid long narrow feet into a pair of orange slipperettes. ‘I think I’m in love,’ she sang, smoothing down her skirts which were patterned with large checks in yellow, orange and white. ‘What do you think of the new name for the group?’
‘The Swinging Spuds?’
Dot laughed. ‘You’re full of wit.’ She pulled on shortie white gloves. ‘You know it’s Spades not Spuds. Let’s be ha
ving you then. The Casbah Coffee Club opens at half past seven.’
‘It’s me that’s been waiting for you!’
It was the opening night of the club which was situated in the cellars of a large Victorian house in West Derby. The girls had heard of it through Norm who had signed himself up as a member as well as Dot and Viv. It had cost them half a crown each and they would have to pay a shilling at the door. Word had gone around that the Quarrymen, who had been disbanded, bad been reformed and were playing that night.
‘There must be hundreds here,’ whispered Viv as they crowded into the cellars. She looked up at the black-painted ceiling. It had strange pot bellied figures painted on it. Ugly looking things. Someone said that John Lennon, one of the Quarrymen, had done them. The music started. She looked over at the four members of the group who had arranged themselves in front of a jukebox and determined to forget Nick and all her troubles and just enjoy the music.
‘Long Tall Sally’ set them all jigging. ‘Sweet Little Sixteen’ had Dot humming. ‘Maggie May’ had most of them joining lustily in the refrain. And ‘Whole Lotta Shakin Goin’ On’ got them dancing. Viv was partnered by Norm. Fortunately he did not expect sizzling conversation from her but just loved to rock’n’roll. They danced on through Jerry Lee Lewis, Eddie Cochran, Carl Perkins. Then, after refreshing themselves with Coca-Cola, they listened to a vocal of ‘Blue Moon of Kentucky’ from Paul McCartney. Viv was almost beginning to enjoy herself when she noticed that she was being stared at. For a moment she did not recognise the fair-haired girl wearing too much mascara, then the stare became a glare and she realised that the girl was Nick’s sister Ingrid. Her heart plummeted and she groaned.
‘Did I stand on your toe?’ asked Norm, stopping abruptly.
She shook her head and pulled at his hand. ‘Carry on dancing. It’s too late to hide now.’
‘Hide? Who are we hiding from?’
‘Nick’s sister, but we’re not.’
