by June Francis
‘Of course I miss it!’ exclaimed Flora. ‘Liverpool will always be part of me, in my mind and in my heart. I miss the people, the familiar streets. I miss the river and the ships. But I’ve got Mike and the children. I’m loved, Viv, by a kind and thoughtful man.’ She paused. ‘I’m glad you’re going to marry Nick. I remember him as a boy who hardly ever showed his feelings, but that doesn’t mean to say he never felt things deeply. In fact, he probably feels things more deeply. When we’re young our emotions feel like they’re made of glass balls about to break and that can be frightening. Thank God, when we get older they’re more like Indian rubber. We don’t break so easily.’
Viv said abruptly, ‘You know who my father is, don’t you?’
‘I guessed, just the same as you. We’re intelligent women, Viv.’ She chuckled. ‘Don’t hurt for me so much. It doesn’t hurt me any more.’ Her eyes gleamed with the moon’s reflection off the sea. ‘But the truth would hurt George. Although he doesn’t remember much about his father, he reveres what he remembers. He sees him as a hero, which he wasn’t always.’
‘You mean you don’t want George ever to know?’
‘You’ve got to be the strong one if he ever comes trying it on. I know you won’t find it easy being hard but—’
‘My mother’s caused a hell of a lot of trouble, hasn’t she?’ interrupted Viv.
‘But she’s suffering for it now,’ said Flora hurriedly. ‘She said that Stephen asked her to marry him.’
‘And you believe her?’
‘Yes. When he was courting me I thought at one time they could have made a match of it. She would bring him out of himself and he would give her the security and admiration she’s always needed.’
‘You sound like you’ve forgiven her?’ said Viv, puzzled. ‘I’d find it hard to in your position.’
‘It didn’t happen overnight. I’ve lived with my suspicion for years. And truthfully, Viv, not forgiving people can make you feel you have a handful of walnuts right where your heart is.’
There was silence.
‘You think about it, Viv.’
‘I’m thinking,’ she said. It was a very telling simile.
‘There’s an artists’ colony up the coast,’ murmured Flora. ‘Perhaps we can persuade George to have a look at it when it’s time for you to go home?’
‘So I can sneak away like a thief in the night?’ Viv’s voice shook. Reaction was setting in.
‘Hardly, Viv,’ said her aunt. ‘We’ll all come and wave you off.’ Her voice strengthened. ‘And you can take a letter back to our Hilda for me.’
‘You’re going to tell her that I know,’ said Viv, startled.
‘Oh, no, I think you should do that yourself,’ said Flora firmly. ‘Let her know you know and take it from there.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
It was mid-January before Viv returned to Liverpool. Nick had written informing her that the news that she was in America had left her mother almost speechless while her Christmas present had evoked only a mechanical response as if she could not believe that Viv had really bought it. She had expected gratitude and felt hurt.
The taxi stopped outside the house and after paying the driver Viv squared her shoulders and stared at the now red-painted door. The lower window frame was painted blue and white. What was going on? Was the affair with Mr Kelly on or off? Impatient to know, she hammered on the knocker.
Immediately the door was pulled wide and Hilda stood in the doorway. Viv’s prepared speech was forgotten and her uppermost feeling was one of dismay. ‘What have you been doing to yourself?’ she blurted out. ‘Where’s your make-up? And why are you wearing that awful sack-like dress? It makes you look terrible!’
‘Thanks very much,’ snapped Hilda, a scowl replacing the hesitant smile. ‘Is that what you’ve come home for? Just to insult me!’
‘If the cap fits,’ said Viv, her eyes sparkling. ‘What are you doing letting yourself go? It’s not like you!’
‘A fat lot you care what I’m like,’ said her mother, turning her back and going into the house.
Viv followed her, slamming the door. ‘You expect me to care, do you?’ She dropped her suitcase with a loud thud. ‘Are you going to give me a sob story about how your sister stole your man and you had every right to do what you did to get your revenge on her?’
Hilda flopped on to the sofa. ‘I suppose Nick told you?’ she whispered.
‘Nick?’ She had thrown Viv completely. ‘How should he know about my father?’
Varying emotions flickered across Hilda’s face. She did not answer Viv’s question but said instead, ‘Our Flo then? She put two and two together.’
‘I put two and two together,’ said Viv, frowning. ‘It wasn’t so difficult once you told me that Jimmy wasn’t my father.’ She sank into the rocking chair. ‘After I started thinking straight I realised how often Uncle Tom figured on the photographs that Uncle Steve showed me – and more often than not Uncle Tom was standing next to you.’
‘Good ol’ Stephen.’ Her mother’s gaze dropped to the carpet. ‘I suppose you’ve told him?’ she said dully.
‘No! Of course not.’ Viv did not add that she felt sure he had guessed. ‘Nor did I tell him about Mr Kelly.’ She leant forward. ‘What’s with the outside being painted red, white and blue? Is the Queen coming to tea or is Mr Kelly?’
‘What do you think?’ Hilda’s voice was lifeless.
‘You tell me!’ Viv experienced a momentary frustration. ‘Come on, Mam! Buck up! Are you still carrying on with him?’
‘I told you I wasn’t months ago,’ muttered her mother. ‘He’s just being funny – or so he thinks. I painted over the blue he’d painted the door but I couldn’t be bothered with the rest. I haven’t gone back on what I said. I’ve felt too off colour for that sort of thing.’
‘Off colour?’
Hilda’s shoulders twitched. ‘Aches and pains and funny feelings.’
There was silence and Viv waited for her to continue, thinking moodily that it wasn’t worth having a fight if your opponent was not up to it. ‘You haven’t seen Stephen then?’ she said.
‘No,’ sighed Hilda. ‘You’ve no idea how miserable I’ve been while you’ve been living it up in California. Did you go to Hollywood?’
Viv shook her head. This meeting was not going a bit the way she’d expected and she did not know whether to laugh or scream. ‘I suppose you haven’t been to see a doctor?’
‘And have him tell me I’m dying?’ There was a sudden outburst of anger. ‘You’re joking! I don’t want to know if I am!’
‘Why should you be dying? It’s just that you’re depressed. All your aches and pains are probably in your mind … and I bet you haven’t been eating properly!’
Hilda stared mournfully at her daughter. ‘I’ve missed your cooking and having you to talk to. Everything became too much. Doris doesn’t get round often and I even gave up the job I got before Christmas. I had this awful backache and all the upset with you and Stephen has given me a nervous stomach. It turns over and over.’
‘I see,’ said Viv calmly, determined not to get annoyed. ‘We gave you it. It had nothing to do with you – with your own deceit?’
‘I loved Tom!’ she cried fiercely. ‘I loved them both.’
‘Love? After what you said about love to me, how can you make that your excuse? And which ‘both’ are you supposed to have loved?’
‘Tom and our Flora, of course,’ said her mother with more of her old spirit. ‘And I loved Jimmy a bit.’
Viv stared at her. ‘Oh, come off it, Mother! How can you say you loved Aunt Flo and yet do what you did to her? If you love someone you don’t deliberately set out to hurt them.’
‘I didn’t do it deliberately,’ protested Hilda. ‘There was a war on and Tom was going away. I thought I might never see him again. Our Flo wasn’t up to satisfying his needs because she was pregnant and sick, and I thought she’d never know.’
‘So you thought th
at made it all right for you to have sex with Tom?’ Viv could not conceal her anger and disgust.
‘I didn’t think whether it was right or wrong at the time. It just happened! We met by accident in town. I’d been seeing Jimmy off at Lime Street and Tom’s train had just come in.’ The words so long battened down spilt out now. ‘It was like old times. We went for a meal and had a few expensive drinks that he really shouldn’t have bought and then we went to a hotel.’
Viv swore.
‘I know!’ cried her mother. ‘The money should have been spent on our Flo and George! But I wasn’t thinking about them at the time. I was thinking of how Tom had been mine once and how this could be the last time.’ She stared at Viv and there was a tiny sparkle in her eyes. ‘He was very good-looking, you know! But, bloody hell, he knew it – just the same as George! He knows he’s got something the girls like. You’ve felt it, Viv. Don’t deny it.’
‘I’m not denying it,’ she muttered in vexed tones. ‘But he does have Aunt Flo’s blood flowing in his veins as well. You should have told me earlier. What if anything had happened? Hell, Mam, he’s my half-brother and my cousin!’
There was silence.
‘Does he know?’ asked Hilda eventually.
‘No! And Aunt Flo doesn’t want him knowing. Which is difficult because he’s got a pash on me at the moment and doesn’t like the idea of Nick and me getting married.’
‘He’s got his voice back?’
‘Yes.’ Viv gnawed on her lip, her gaze on her mother’s face. ‘What did you mean earlier about Nick telling me?’
‘It doesn’t matter. I could have been mistaken all along about him.’
Viv made an exasperated noise. ‘You don’t believe that, do you? You never have. Now you’re wishing you’d kept your mouth shut about Jimmy not being my father and writing to Aunt Flo. Who, by the way, gave me a letter for you.’ She delved into her handbag and handed an envelope to her mother.
Hilda turned it over in her hands. ‘I can guess what it says.’
‘You believe it says “Never darken my doors again!”’ She smiled grimly. ‘Can you see Aunt Flo writing something like that? She’s so much nicer and more forgiving than you’ll ever deserve, Mother.’
‘You don’t have to rub it in,’ said Hilda with a touch of anger. ‘It’s not my fault I was born the way I am!’
Viv gave her a look. ‘What’s that radio programme where they play “Such is life! Life is what you make it!”?’
‘That’s only partly true. We’re all born with certain traits that make us behave in a certain way.’
‘Don’t be putting all the blame for your behaviour on your ancestors. You knew what you were doing and so did my father, damn him!’ she said, not succeeding in sounding dispassionate enough.
‘He didn’t want to know about you.’
‘Does that surprise you? Married man and all that.’ Her voice was icy.
Hilda shrugged. ‘Surprisingly, I did expect something different from the cold shoulder I got. I think he realised which side his bread was buttered on.’
‘And Aunt Flo was best butter.’ Her mother winced and Viv regretted her words, feeling sudden pity. ‘But you were never just margarine, Mam,’ she said softly. ‘You still aren’t, so, why let yourself go?’ She got to her feet.
Hilda looked up at her and there was panic in her eyes. ‘I suppose you’re going now and won’t be back?’
Viv laughed. ‘No. I’m going to make my own cup of tea, seeing as how you haven’t offered me one.’
The panic faded from her mother’s eyes but Viv could still see it as she made the tea and hunted for the biscuits. She remembered the glamorous mother who had come over from America and compared her with the blown up, out of focus copy that was in the other room and almost wished the old one back. She also noticed that the kitchen was untidy.
She took in the tea. Hilda was standing by the window, a sheet of paper in her hand.
‘Dare I ask what she’s written?’ murmured Viv, placing the tray on the table.
Hilda folded the letter with trembling fingers. ‘It’s private but it’s not likely that I’ll ever set foot in America again.’
‘You mean she really did say ‘Don’t darken my doors’?’ said Viv incredulously.
‘No!’ Hilda laughed shortly. I almost wish she had.’
‘Mam, tell us what she says?’
Hilda shook her head. Exasperated Viv did what her mother would have done in her place and snatched the letter out of her hand. She read it, then laughed. ‘She never gives up, does she? She’s still trying to forge a bond between us!’
‘She doesn’t say anything like that,’ muttered Hilda.
‘She says “Take care of each other!” It’s almost the same thing.’
‘I suppose it is.’
‘Well, she’s asking the impossible, isn’t she?’ said Viv irritably. ‘You wouldn’t know how to take care of the cat!’
She poured out the tea, her thoughts churning. Once she had believed that when she knew who her father was, she would understand her mother better. Well, she did! But it also meant that she couldn’t just leave her in the state she was now. Her mother had warned her to leave the past alone. So had her aunt in her letter, and Nick. Her brows puckered. Why should her mother think that Nick had told her about her father? One thing was for sure: in her search for the truth she had hurt other people. It was impossible for her to walk away and leave them still hurting if she could do anything about it. She considered carefully then drained her cup. ‘I’ll be going now.’
Hilda struggled to her feet. ‘I’ll see you to the door.’
Again Viv felt that debilitating sense of compassion. ‘I know where the door is. I used to live here, you know.’ She tried to infuse humour into the words as she bent to pick up her suitcase.
‘You could leave that,’ said her mother hurriedly. I mean – you could stay here. I mean – you’re not going to marry Nick yet are you? And this is your home.’
Viv dropped the suitcase. ‘I’ll see you later then.’ She closed the door, thinking that she had not said definitely she would stay. Now she wanted to see Stephen.
‘Viv, you’re back!’ There was no mistaking the warmth in Stephen’s voice.
‘Did you think I wouldn’t be?’ She kissed him and then stepped back and smiled. He looked almost as worse for wear as her mother did. There was a hole in his sweater and he hadn’t shaved properly. She would have to do something. ‘I’ve been to see Mam,’ she said quietly, sitting down at the other side of the desk.
‘You’ve what?’ He paled.
‘I had a letter for her from Aunt Flo. I had to go. I promised. Flo said it was important,’ she explained hurriedly.
Stephen stared at her and said with deliberation, ‘And what did your mother have to say when she saw you?’
‘The usual thing when you haven’t seen anyone for a while.’ She smiled brightly. ‘Then she asked if you were keeping well since last she saw you.’
He cleared his throat. ‘And what did you tell her?’
‘I said you were very well.’ She touched his hand. ‘I thought that was what you’d want me to say.’
‘Of course it was.’ He avoided her eyes and toyed with a ruler. Viv hoped he wouldn’t break it. ‘I suppose she’s all right?’ he murmured.
‘She’s as all right as you are,’ said Viv promptly.
Stephen looked up at her and she stared back without expression. ‘That well, is she?’ he muttered.
Viv nodded, bit her lip and looked anxious. ‘Her chest is bad – but then it always is at this time of year.’
He frowned. ‘Do you think she needs a doctor?’
‘She won’t see one.’
‘Perhaps you should make her?’
Viv’s eyebrows rose. ‘Can you see Mam letting anyone make her do anything? Even so I don’t want her dropping dead and people saying I didn’t do anything so I might go and stay with her for a while – until Nick and
I get married. I don’t want her on my conscience.’
‘That sounds sensible,’ said Stephen soberly. ‘I liked Nick. He came to see me when he got back from America. We had a good talk. I might be able to put some work his way.’
Viv smiled. ‘I’m really glad you like each other.’
He hesitated. ‘How’s George?’
‘Poor George.’ She sighed. ‘It’s a good job he’s staying in America or he’d feel like his nose was really getting pushed out of joint. Jealously is such a wasteful emotion.’
‘George is probably like his father, a woman’s man,’ said Stephen, his mouth tightening.
Viv’s heart sank. He did know who her father was. Now she knew just how difficult the future might be. She changed the subject and asked when she could come back to work. Stephen said Monday. The married woman he had got in had not really wanted full-time and did not always turn in.
Soon after that Viv left to catch a bus to the Pierhead. She determined not to think of her mother and Stephen for the next few hours. From her handbag she took out the letter with Nick’s address and considered instead Ursula.
Viv’s eyes narrowed as she took in the stunning outfit patterned with black outlines of diamond-shaped blocks of colour worn by the girl standing in the doorway. Her face was animated and she had beautiful violet eyes.
‘You must be Ursula,’ she said with a smile, feeling as jealous as hell but not about to make the same mistakes as her mother. Holding out her hand she said warmly, ‘Nick’s told me all about you but I didn’t know you were staying here as well.’
‘I’m not,’ said Ursula, her smile widening. ‘But I drop in quite often. I’m an old family friend while you are the intruder.’
‘I beg your pardon?’ It took Viv all her willpower not to scream the words.
‘You’ve got a job on your hands, love,’ Ursula said in a conspiratorial whisper, her violet eyes sparkling. ‘Celia’s out to be rid of you and put me in your place. I belong, you see.’
