Pack Up Your Troubles

by Pam Weaver

  While the men were putting up the tables, Connie and Jane joined the other women in dragging the bags from the cupboards where they had been stored, into the main hall.

  ‘Is your boyfriend here?’ said Connie giving Mandy a toy soldier to put on the children’s table. ‘I’m the only one who hasn’t seen him yet.’

  Jane shook her head. ‘He’s working today but he’ll be coming to the outing on Whit Monday.’

  They had plenty of helpers and any time someone found something they’d like, they would put it on the stage behind the curtain until the end of the ‘sort out’. The perk for helping was being able to buy what you wanted before the sale. The jumble came from a cross section of the village. Sometimes Connie was handling stuff from the upper crust and at other times she was dealing with things that had obviously been handed down several times already. And it didn’t always follow that the good stuff came from the rich either. Connie knew it was often the roughest looking people who gave good, complete, unbroken and clean jumble while the obviously affluent might fob them off with rubbish.

  ‘I was half expecting Reverend Jackson to be here,’ Connie remarked to one of the other women as she handed her a welcome cup of tea.

  ‘He’ll be along later,’ she said. ‘This morning he’s interviewing somebody to play the piano for the Sunday services.’

  ‘At last,’ cried Connie. ‘It’s ages since Michael Cunningham left.’

  They were about halfway through their sorting when a well-heeled woman in a big car drove up to the door. ‘I’ve brought you some things for your sale,’ she announced in an all too loud plummy voice. Several heads looked up but everyone carried on with the job in hand. Eventually she spotted Connie. ‘Hey, you. Miss. Fetch them from the car for me.’

  Reluctantly, Connie followed her out of the door.

  ‘I don’t want anything for them,’ she said handing Connie a rather large and heavy box.

  As soon as she’d gone, Connie sorted through the boxes she’d left. They were filled with broken toys, cracked plates and cups with no handles.

  ‘She’s just dumped her rubbish on us,’ Connie said in disgust.

  Rev Jackson had just arrived in the hall. He came over to look. ‘Put it all in the hallway, Connie,’ he said shaking his head. ‘We’ll put it in the pile for the rag and bone man at the end of the sale.’

  Connie dragged the box into the hallway and then noticed an old tea caddy. When she opened it, it was full of green mouldy tea. She couldn’t resist taking it back into the hall to show Jane.

  ‘How vile,’ said Jane, jerking her head back as the musty smell filled the air. ‘Ugh.’

  Something caught Connie’s eye. She looked around and found a bent spoon.

  ‘What on earth are you doing?’ cried Jane.

  Connie fished around in the tea and pulled out a silver caddy spoon. ‘Voilà!’

  Rev Jackson took it from her and looked at it a little more closely. ‘Well done, Connie,’ he said. ‘This is hallmarked. It could be worth a bit. We’ll take it to the jewellers after the sale.’

  ‘Ha!’ laughed Jane. ‘I bet she doesn’t know it was in there.’

  ‘And I bet she wouldn’t have given it to us if she had,’ Connie grinned.

  Everything was ready by nine forty, so someone made them all another cup of tea. Mandy was going to stand with Connie on the children’s clothing section.

  ‘Tell everybody, whatever it is, it’s thruppence,’ Connie told her.

  Mandy nodded gravely, aware of her responsibility to make a lot of money for the church.

  The queue outside was already snaking around the hall. At ten o’clock, Rev Jackson called out, ‘Ready everybody?’ and a moment or two later having paid him sixpence to get in, the people rushed into the hall like a stampede of wild elephants and the sale was underway.

  The first half an hour was manic. Most things were going for a song but sometimes people would barter.

  ‘How much is this shirt, love?’

  ‘A tanner.’

  ‘I’ll give you fourpence.’

  People pushed and shoved, some even snatching their bargains out of the hands of another. Connie was terrified that they’d get to the end of the morning and find somebody’s flattened child under the table but even though a few children disappeared under the frenzy of shopping bags and mothers in search of a bargain, nobody was hurt. A few ended up with a clip around the ear if their mother missed a bargain because they were in the wrong place and getting under her feet.

  Mandy was chuffed every time she put another thruppenny bit in the money tin and Connie could see the coins were mounting up. By eleven o’clock the worst was over. A few women stayed doggedly sorting through the mountain of clothes for something they could wear or remake into something else. Another cup of tea came round and it was most welcome.

  And at the end of the sale, the remaining jumble had to be piled up and stuffed into bags ready for the rag and bone man who was coming at twelve thirty. They cleared the hall, the men put the trestles back under the stage and Mandy helped Connie sweep the floor. Battle-scarred and weary, some helpers were promising themselves ‘never again’ until Rev Jackson said, ‘Thank you everybody. It’s been a good morning. Not only do we have a new church pianist called Graham, but we have made seventy-two pounds three shillings and five pence,’ and everybody applauded.

  When they collected their things from behind the curtain, Connie gave Mandy the toy typewriter she’d seen her admiring as she put the toys out.

  ‘You were brilliant,’ she said, giving her a kiss.

  ‘Is that for me?’ said Mandy, her bright eyes shining.

  ‘Of course,’ said Connie. ‘I want you to type me a letter one day.’

  ‘Oh, I will,’ said Mandy. ‘You’re the bestest sister ever.’

  By the time they got back home, Gwen had lunch waiting for them, macaroni cheese, Mandy’s favourite. Afterwards, while Mandy played outside with Susan Revel and Sarah Bawden, Connie sat on the sofa in the little sitting room exhausted but happy. It was good to have this little oasis of calm available any time she was able to be here.

  Her mother walked in with two cups of tea.

  ‘Where’s Ga?’

  ‘Gone into Worthing for something,’ said Gwen. ‘I’m glad because I want to talk to you about something.’

  ‘Sounds serious,’ Connie joked.

  ‘It is,’ said her mother. ‘Oh bother, I forgot you like sugar in your tea, don’t you?’

  She hurried out of the room leaving Connie worried. Serious? What could that mean? Was her mother ill again? She didn’t look ill and she had boundless energy since Clifford came back. Perhaps there was something wrong with Clifford. He certainly seemed pretty miserable at times and once she had caught him looking at some papers, papers which he stuffed under a cushion as she’d come into the room. Was he in trouble with the business? No, Ga would have said something if the nurseries were failing. Maybe there was something wrong with Mandy. She could hear her playing outside with Susan and Sarah. They were skipping.

  ‘Raspberry,

  strawberry,

  apple jam tart.

  Tell me the name of your sweet heart.’

  No, it couldn’t be Mandy. She’d been full of energy at the jumble sale and listen to her now. If it wasn’t Mandy, it had to be something about Ga.

  Until her mother had pre-empted the moment, Connie had decided that this was the moment to tell her about Kenneth. Whatever Kenneth said, it wasn’t right keeping his whereabouts from her any longer. She’d be cross enough that Connie had known where he was for almost two months now and that she’d been writing to him ever since and not told her. It would soften the blow a bit when her mother found out about his fiancée, but she still had to tell her about his terrible injuries.

  Her mother reappeared with the sugar bowl and put it on the little table next to the sofa. ‘Sorry I was so long,’ she smiled. ‘It was empty and I had to get some more from the cupbo
ard.’ She flopped into her chair and arranged the cushions.

  ‘Come on, Mum,’ said Connie. ‘You’ve got me worried.’

  ‘This is going to come as a bit of a shock,’ said Gwen, ‘but Clifford and I are thinking about leaving.’

  Connie’s brain was a little slow to catch on. ‘Leaving? Leaving what?’

  ‘The nurseries are hard work for little return,’ said Gwen. ‘We don’t mind hard work, but we want a better future for ourselves and Mandy. We’ve decided to leave Belvedere Nurseries.’

  ‘Is that all?’ Connie laughed. ‘That’s fine. What will you do? Buy a shop?’

  Gwen took a deep breath. ‘Clifford read an advertisement in The Times,’ she said getting to her feet. She went to find a tin box under the sideboard. Unlocking it with a key, she searched until she found a particular envelope and handed it to Connie. Inside was a cutting. Calling all able bodied and skilled workers. Australia needs you. The Australian government is setting up assisted passages for British families. For only £10 you could have a brand new life for you and your family. It was followed by a telephone number.

  Connie’s heart thudded. Her mother was staring at her anxiously. ‘Australia?’

  Gwen nodded. Connie re-read the cutting. Her mouth had gone dry. Australia was thousands of miles away. It took six weeks to get there. It was on the other side of the world. She would never see her mother or Mandy again. She wanted to burst into tears, to shout and rant, ‘No, you can’t go, I don’t want you to go, don’t leave me please …’ She wanted to say, ‘Wait, you can’t go, I haven’t told you about Kenneth yet. Would you really leave him as soon as you’ve found him again?’ She wanted to call her mother selfish and horrible but as she looked up again, something else kicked in.

  ‘That’s amazing, Mum,’ she smiled although her voice had developed a distinct wobble. ‘What an opportunity. All that way for just £10?’

  ‘You don’t mind?’ Gwen asked anxiously.

  ‘Of course I do,’ said Connie brightly, ‘but if you and Clifford want to do it, who am I to stop you? Don’t let your opportunities pass you by, Mum.’ Her voice had become thick with emotion as she repeated the very words her mother had said to her when she’d talked about nursing.

  Gwen flung her arms around her daughter. ‘Oh, Connie. You’re such a wonderful daughter. You don’t know what it means to me to have your blessing. I’ve been dreading telling you.’

  As they let each other go, they both had tears in their eyes. ‘I shall miss you,’ Connie smiled brokenly.

  ‘Why don’t you come too?’ said her mother.

  Connie blinked. ‘To Australia?’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I can’t, Mum. My training.’

  ‘You could enrol over there,’ said Gwen, clearly excited by her own suggestion.

  Connie shook her head. ‘Mum, I need my SRN.’

  ‘I wish it didn’t have to be this way,’ said Gwen, taking a hanky out of her apron pocket and blowing her nose, ‘but Clifford …’

  ‘I know,’ said Connie, drying her own eyes. ‘Clifford is a good man and he wants the best for you both.’

  ‘There are such wonderful opportunities out there, Connie,’ said Gwen. ‘And after what happened to poor Sally … those terrible letters. I can’t wait to get away from here.’

  ‘Is anyone any closer to finding who sent them?’

  Gwen shook her head. ‘There are some sick people out there.’ She paused. ‘Oh darling, when you’ve finished your training please come and join us. We’d be settled by then.’

  ‘When do you plan to go?’ Connie was dreading the answer and when it came it was worse than she thought.

  ‘The middle of September.’

  ‘September!’ Connie cried. ‘So soon?’

  ‘The assisted passage is only for younger people,’ said Gwen. ‘We have to be among the first to go. If we leave it any longer, Clifford will be too old.’

  Connie’s whole world was crashing down around her ears. ‘What does Ga say?’

  ‘We haven’t told her yet,’ said Gwen. ‘I wanted you to know first.’

  ‘Do you think she will go with you? I mean, she’s got the money to pay her fare, hasn’t she?’

  Her mother’s expression darkened. ‘We want to do this on our own.’

  ‘But what will she do?’ Connie cried.

  Gwen sipped her tea. ‘Sell up and move into a luxury flat I should imagine. She’s never paid us a proper wage the whole time she’s lived here, so I imagine she’s loaded. She’ll land on her feet. She always does.’

  ‘She kept you and Clifford short as well?’ Connie gasped. ‘I thought it was only me.’

  Her mother shook her head. ‘I shouldn’t have told you really, but it’s true. That’s why Clifford gets so upset. She won’t let him expand. She’s stopped him from putting up more glasshouses, and she won’t let him sell any of the land. He even suggested using the rough patch at the bottom for static caravans or building a few prefabs to help people with housing. The rent would have supplemented the nurseries but she won’t have any of it and although we get by, he wants to be free to do what he wants without having to ask her first.’

  By the tone of her mother’s voice, Connie finally understood just how difficult it must have been to live with Ga. After she had packed up the WAAFs, Connie had been away from home for so long, that the thought of being forced to live with Ga again was what drove her towards nursing. The only reason she came home on her days off was to see her mother and Mandy. Certainly not Ga.

  ‘I had no idea it was so bad, Mum.’

  Gwen sat next to her daughter and put out her arms. ‘I’m torn, Connie,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to leave you, but I must go with my husband. He’s a good man but he’s so unhappy.’

  Connie could see that this was going to be a wonderful release for her mother, Clifford and Mandy. They could be a family in their own right at last. It was only the sinking feeling in her own heart that reminded Connie that she would be on her own too.

  Twenty-Three

  When she got back to her room in the nurses’ home, Connie sat on her bed and stared dejectedly at the wall. She had heard the water running in the bathroom as she came in. Betty’s things were on her bed but her dressing gown was gone from the back of the door so she must be in the bath.

  Connie’s chin quivered and she let her tears fall freely. Everything was going wrong. She knew she was a good nurse but every time Matron was around, she got so flummoxed she did stupid things and now that her mother and her sister were leaving her for good, she felt really depressed. How could she survive without them? And what on earth was she going to do about Kenneth?

  On her way in, she’d been to her pigeonhole and collected a letter from Roger. ‘Thanks for both of your letters,’ he wrote. ‘I think our letters must have crossed in the post. I’ve been kept quite busy. It seems that as soon as things get back to normal, someone uncovers another UXB. I reckon we’ll be carrying on with the unit for some time to come.’

  She didn’t know what to do about him either. She liked him. He was a good friend but did she really want more? Not that he’d intimated anything else but friendship of course. She sighed. It was hardly the end of the world but it was one of those moments when you wonder what it’s all about.

  There was a soft knock on the door and Eva came in. ‘Hello. Had a nice day? I saw the light was on.’ Her voice faltered. ‘Connie, whatever’s wrong?’

  Eva sat on the bed beside her and as soon as she put her arms around Connie’s shoulders, she broke down altogether and once she started crying, she couldn’t stop. Eva let her do it, plying her with clean handkerchiefs until she was done, and Connie told her everything. Some of it, Eva already knew. She knew about Kenneth and Connie’s dilemma about telling her mother, but Connie’s run-ins with Matron and the family’s move to Australia was news to her.

  ‘Dear life,’ said Eva, ‘you’ve obviously had one hell of a day.’

 
‘What am I going to do?’ Connie wept.

  ‘Well,’ said Eva blowing out her cheeks, ‘as far as Kenneth goes, I think you should tell your mum. She’ll be angry of course but she will hate you forever if you let her go all the way to Australia without seeing him.’

  Connie nodded. ‘You’re right. I’ve been so anxious to please him, I haven’t really thought about how it would affect Mum. Going to the other side of the world changes everything.’ She burst into tears again as Betty came into the bedroom wearing her dressing gown. Her towel was over one shoulder and she was carrying her wash bag. ‘Whatever’s wrong?’ she gasped.

  ‘Connie has just discovered her family are moving to Australia,’ said Eva.

  ‘Oh, you poor love,’ said Betty sitting on the other side of Connie. She smelled deliciously of Yardley’s French Fern bath salts.

  ‘I don’t think I can do this anymore,’ said Connie. Deep in her heart she knew she didn’t really mean what she was saying but she was hurting so much. She couldn’t do anything about Australia, and she knew whatever she decided Mum was going to be upset about Kenneth. Nursing was the one part of her life over which she had complete control.

  ‘Do what?’ said Betty.

  ‘Be a nurse,’ Connie wailed. ‘I’m lousy at it. For some reason, Matron’s got it in for me and she gets me in such a state I can’t do anything right.’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ said Eva. ‘You can’t let the old bat ruin your life.’

  ‘But she always picks on me, Eva,’ said Connie blowing her nose. ‘You remember how I was when she asked me about the Benedict solution. I knew what it was, but she got me in such a panic my mind went a complete blank.’