One Rainy Day

by Joan Jonker

  Charlotte was silent for a while as she digested what her brother had said. Then, slowly, her eyes began to sparkle. ‘I had an idea then, Andrew, but I quickly discarded it. Which was a pity really, for I thought it was very funny.’

  ‘Aren’t you going to let me into the secret? After all, I am your dear brother.’

  ‘Yes, I am well aware that you are my dear brother. But I am also very well aware that you are a man, and men stick together.’

  Andrew raised his brows. ‘Are you insinuating that because I’m of the male sex, I am not to be trusted?’

  Charlotte giggled. ‘Cross your heart and hope to die, if you repeat what I’m about to tell you.’

  Thinking he was as soft as his sister, Andrew nodded. ‘This better be good, Charlotte.’

  ‘I thought it was funny at the time, but it probably won’t appeal to your humour. The idea was, I thought that if there was such a thing as men’s talk, then it should apply to women as well. So how about me coming here one night with Mother? Then we could indulge in women’s talk. You know what they say about what is good for the goose being good for the gander.’

  Andrew started with a chuckle, and then, as his imagination took over, it turned into full-blown laughter. The further his imagination took him, the louder his laughter grew. With tears rolling down his cheeks, he spluttered, ‘Oh, I’ve got a pain in my side now. Don’t say any more or I’ll have convulsions, and this is hardly the place.’

  The farmers became quiet, looking across the room at Andrew’s now shaking shoulders. And although they didn’t know the reason, laughter is contagious, and soon everyone was laughing heartily, even the innkeeper and George.

  ‘I don’t know what you find so amusing, dear boy,’ George said, holding a cigar in his hand. ‘But I’d like to be let in on the joke, and I’m sure my friends here would too!’

  ‘We’ll tell you in the car on the way home, Father.’ Andrew wiped the back of his hand across his eyes. ‘It’s getting late and we really should make a move, or Mother will think we’ve had an accident. You know how she worries.’

  George nodded. ‘You are right, my boy, your mother does worry.’ He turned round and faced the farmers and the innkeeper. ‘I thank you for a very enjoyable evening, gentlemen, one of the best I have ever spent.’ Being an outgoing man, and very sure of himself, George had asked and been told the name of the innkeeper. John Morley, his name was, and he’d been proud and happy to tell George everything he knew about what was once a hostelry for travellers. ‘Thank you, John, for telling me the history of this wonderful inn. I will be back again, you can be sure of that. But in the meanwhile, if you will let us have six chickens, plucked and ready for the oven of course, my daughter will pick them up on Wednesday morning. Plus one and a half dozen eggs.’

  The farmers were more than grateful, and it showed on their faces. They’d been paid five pounds in advance – more than they would have charged the local people who called to their farms, and a lot of money to men who worked hard for little reward.

  George crossed the room to shake hands. ‘I can’t promise anything definite, gentlemen, but I have many friends who I am sure would be delighted to have farm-fresh poultry and eggs. I’ll have a word with them, and see if I can put some business your way on a regular basis. When my daughter calls for our order on Wednesday, she will have some good news for you, I hope.’ He placed his hard hat on his head and patted the crown until it was sitting to his liking. ‘Now I’ll say goodnight and go home to the wife, who, if I am very late, will greet me with a rolling pin.’

  This brought forth a burst of laughter, and Charlotte was pleased that these men, who had made them so welcome, had taken her father into their midst. They had given him an evening of pleasure, and she surprised everyone by giving each a kiss on his cheek. George and Andrew stood in amazement, while the farmers were delighted, as well as blushing with shyness.

  On the journey home, George talked non-stop. ‘One of the best nights of my life, my boy. You were very lucky to have come across such a gem. Did you know there is a stone over the door with the year 1625 engraved on it? John said you have to look hard for it now, because the date was hacked out of the stone and is now very worn. The place has been in his family for nigh on two hundred years, and he has in his possession letters and invoices dating back to the first owners. The paper is very fragile, so he doesn’t keep it on display. But he said he would show me some time. Also farm implements that date back centuries.’ He shook his head. ‘What an amazing find. I feel very privileged to have seen and heard so much about life hundreds of years ago. I will definitely be paying another visit to the inn, and the farms, very soon. But I somehow don’t think it is to your mother’s taste. What say you?’

  Andrew and Charlotte answered in unison. ‘Definitely not to Mother’s taste, Papa.’

  Andrew and Charlotte spent a little time in the drawing room while George told his wife and her card-playing friends about what a wonderful time he’d had, and what a host of treasures there were at the inn. Then, when Andrew thought they had stayed long enough not to appear rude, he excused himself by saying he had one or two letters to write. Charlotte then pleaded a slight headache, and followed him out of the room. ‘Yours or mine?’ he asked.

  ‘Mine is more comfortable,’ Charlotte said, with a cheeky grin. ‘Besides which, I can get straight into bed.’

  When Andrew had seated himself on the round, blue satin-covered chair, she asked, ‘Can I go first, please?’ She was now sitting on the end of her bed, with her legs dangling. ‘You see, I’ve been keeping a secret from you. But let me tell my story, and hear me out before passing judgement.’

  Andrew looked a little puzzled, but was smiling when he nodded in agreement. ‘Go ahead, Charlotte. I’m sure you haven’t done anything that will bring disgrace upon the family.’

  Swinging her legs, and a little nervous about how her brother would take her confession, Charlotte began with, ‘Well, you see, I have become quite friendly with the girl in the raincoat …’

  ‘Poppy Meadows,’ said Andrew softly.

  ‘Yes, Poppy. I didn’t know she’d told you her name. Anyway, I met her the day I went to see the rocking horse, and I saw her again today. I did this for both our sakes, because I know you liked her, and I’ve liked her from the minute I set eyes on her. And I need a friend, Andrew, who is more in touch with reality than the set I’ve mixed with all my life. I get on well with her, even though I’ve only met her a few times. I did intend to tell you when I was more sure of our friendship, and could introduce you properly.’ She paused for a few seconds, and then said timidly, ‘Don’t be angry with me. I only did what I thought was good for both of us.’

  ‘Of course I’m not angry, Charlotte, and I’m glad you’ve made friends with her, for as you say she lives in the real world.’

  Sighing with relief, now it was all out in the open, Charlotte asked, ‘Now tell me how you got on with Poppy today. She told me she had met you.’

  ‘I saw her for a maximum of five minutes, Charlotte, and she really doesn’t like me. I know she has a right to bear a grudge for what happened, but her objection to me seems more than that. She refuses to have a conversation with me.’

  ‘She doesn’t dislike you, Andrew, and she isn’t the type to bear a grudge. I think she is a very straight person, who would say what was really on her mind. I mean, she didn’t ignore you, did she?’

  Andrew shook his head. ‘No, she didn’t ignore me, but her reluctance to hold a conversation with me was enough to tell me that she really didn’t want to even be in my company.’ He sighed. ‘I’ll have to put her out of my mind. Anyway, with her looks, the chances are she will already have a boyfriend.’

  ‘Don’t give up so easily, dear brother of mine. You know the old saying that faint heart never won fair lady, so start being positive and don’t despair.’ Charlotte was swinging her legs as she gave thought to her next words. ‘Do you really like Poppy, Andrew? After all, you
don’t know anything about her.’

  ‘I feel a bit soppy talking about a girl like this, especially as the girl in question doesn’t want to know me. But as I am sure you won’t repeat our conversation, I’m going to open my heart to you, Charlotte. It’s the way I feel, and I can do nothing about it. The first time I looked into Poppy’s face, when I stretched out a hand to help her stand up, my heart stopped beating and I fell in love. I know it doesn’t sound possible, but that is what happened. No other girl has had that effect on me, and I can’t get her out of my mind.’ Andrew’s sigh was deep. ‘I know I’m crazy, and I realize there’s no chance of winning her round when she doesn’t even like me.’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘It’s something I’m going to have to live with.’

  Charlotte wasn’t going to let her beloved brother go on without any hope in his heart. ‘But Poppy does like you, Andrew. She told me so today. And she thinks you are chivalrous, like the knights in the old days. I went to lunch with her and one of her work colleagues, and found out a few things you will be interested in. The first is that she does like you, as I’ve said. The second is that she does have a boyfriend, but is not serious about him because she is busy learning shorthand so she can get a job as a private secretary. And it sounded as though she was putting the shorthand before the boyfriend.’ Charlotte was keeping the best until the last, because she knew it would put a smile on her brother’s face. And that was something she hadn’t seen for a long time. Oh, he had smiled, but the happiness behind it was missing.

  ‘Do you want to hear any more, Andrew?’

  ‘I don’t think so, Charlotte,’ he said, loosening his tie ready to pull it from his collar. ‘I’m grateful to you for trying, but I have resigned myself to the fact that Poppy will never return my feelings.’

  ‘Oh, what a pity,’ Charlotte said, trying not to sound too interested. She wanted to savour the look on her brother’s face when she told him there was plenty to hope for. ‘Should I cancel the cup of tea, then?’

  Andrew had his tie in his hand when he asked, ‘What tea?’

  ‘Oh, I must have got it wrong. Poppy said you’d invited her to call in to the office one day, for a cup of tea.’

  ‘I did do, Charlotte, but she refused.’

  ‘Only because she is spending all her time on shorthand lessons. She is very determined to improve her job prospects.’ Here Charlotte crossed her fingers before adding, ‘She agreed to come with me one day when her lessons finish. It would be a few weeks off, but we did make arrangements. Still, if you don’t want us to come, I can cancel those arrangements when I meet Poppy next week. If that is really what you want?’

  She didn’t hear her brother’s answer, for he had lifted her off the bed and was swinging her round. There was a huge grin on his face and he was chortling.

  Charlotte was delighted. ‘Am I to take it that you do not want me to cancel the tea date? Oh, and Poppy said she would like a cake with her tea.’

  Chapter Seventeen

  Mr Jones looked over his glasses when Poppy came to his desk to pick up her homework at the end of the lesson. It was two months now since she joined the course and the teacher was on first name terms with her. ‘You’re doing remarkably well, Poppy – as well as anyone in the class.’

  Every time Ernest Jones saw Poppy smile, he told himself she had a face that could launch a thousand ships. And she was smiling now, when she told him, ‘And so I should be good, Mr Jones, ’cos I’m spending half my life on it. I used to go out every night enjoying myself, dancing and going to the flicks. Now I go out two nights, and spend the other five, plus all day Sunday, writing out pages from a book to get my speed up.’

  ‘It will pay off in the end, Poppys,’ Mr Jones said. ‘And when you work hard for something, you appreciate it far more than anything you get for free.’ He handed her notebook over. ‘I would think another month, and you’ll be ready to apply for the position you’ve set your heart on.’

  ‘I don’t drink, Mr Jones, except for the odd sherry now and again. But the day I reach the speed required to take dictation, then I intend to push the boat out.’

  Ernest smiled. ‘Does that mean two glasses of sherry, Poppy?’

  She tucked her book under her arm and smiled. ‘At least two, Mr Jones. In fact I might even go mad and buy myself a gin and tonic. I’ve never had one before, but I am told they are what’s in fashion these days. A glass of sherry is for old ladies, so they say.’

  She was walking away when the teacher shouted after her, ‘Don’t believe all you hear, Poppy. And if you enjoy a sherry, then stick with it.’

  Poppy waved a hand to show she’d heard, then quickened her steps to catch up with Joy and Jane. They still walked with her to the bus stop, though she had never breathed a word to anyone about the night she’d been attacked. But it had become a habit that her friends saw her to the bus stop, and when she got off the bus at the top of her street Peter would be waiting for her. It was too late for the pictures, but they’d either go to the Grafton or walk to the park. The nights were getting lighter now and it was a pleasant change to see the greenery of the park, and the buds appearing on the plants. Another few weeks or so and spring would be here.

  ‘Mr Jones has got a soft spot for you,’ Joy said, linking one of Poppy’s arms. ‘He never has much to say to us like he does to you. You’re his blue-eyed girl.’

  Jane was linking Poppy’s other arm when she said, ‘In case you haven’t noticed, soft girl, Poppy hasn’t got blue eyes. They go from hazel to green, depending on her mood.’

  ‘I didn’t know my eyes changed colour,’ Poppy said. ‘I know I’ve got hazel eyes, but I didn’t know they sometimes changed to green.’

  ‘Well, you wouldn’t be able to see them, would you?’ Joy chuckled. ‘Nobody is able to look themselves in the face; it isn’t possible. You can look in the mirror, but you wouldn’t see them changing colour.’

  ‘All this about eyes, just because Mr Jones says a few words to me,’ Poppy said. ‘It’s a pity you two have nothing better to talk about.’

  ‘Nothing happens in our lives which is worth talking about.’ Jane sounded down in the dumps. ‘We go to work every day, and the only nights we do anything are the two nights we come to evening class. I think if anything exciting happened we’d die of shock. Our hearts couldn’t stand it.’

  ‘No one makes you stay in every night,’ Poppy said. ‘It’s your own fault. There’s nothing to stop you from going dancing; there’s enough places to go to. You don’t live far from Blair Hall, and it’s nice there.’

  Neither of us can dance,’ Joy said. ‘I can’t put one foot in front of the other. And neither me nor Jane look exactly like film stars.’

  ‘Most boys are more interested in how good a dancer you are than whether you look like Doris Day. Besides, I haven’t seen many blokes that look like Clark Gable at the dance halls I go to.’ Poppy glanced from one to the other. ‘The pair of you want your bumps feeling. Get yourselves out and start enjoying life. If it’s your faces that are holding you back, you could always put a bag over your heads, or plaster yourselves with make-up.’

  ‘Oh, you’re being very helpful,’ Jane said, as they came to a halt by the bus stop. ‘We don’t look so bad when we’ve got a decent dress on, nice hair and make-up on. But we can’t dance and that puts paid to a social life. More girls meet their boys at a dance hall than anywhere else.’

  ‘Then learn to dance! Ye gods, if you can learn shorthand, you can learn to dance, ’cos believe me it’s much easier. There’s a dancing school called Connie Millington’s, and she’s a great teacher. A couple of lessons and you’d be tripping the light fantastic.’

  ‘Ay, that’s a good idea,’ Joy said, as Poppy’s bus drew up. ‘Where is it?’

  There was no time to talk, for Peter was meeting Poppy off the bus. ‘Anyone will tell you,’ she shouted from the platform as the bus pulled away. ‘Connie Millington’s, everyone knows her. I had a few lessons off her myself when I sta
rted.’ She waved a hand. ‘See you next Monday.’

  It seemed no time at all between getting on the bus, and getting off again. She didn’t have to jump or step off, for Peter was waiting and ready to lift her down. ‘How did it go, babe? Did you come out top of the class?’

  Poppy didn’t think this was a bit funny. Peter had tried every trick in the book to stop her shorthand lessons. He didn’t see any sense in a woman wasting her time on learning, when she would eventually marry and have no need of the skills. Well, Poppy didn’t agree with him. She wanted to be independent. As a matter of fact it went really well, and I’m very proud of myself. The teacher reckons another month and I’ll have my speed up to what is required. Then I should be able to look for the job I’m so keen on getting.’

  ‘I still think it’s a waste of time.’ Peter put his arm round her waist. ‘Three months of your life gone, and in a few years’ time you’ll be wondering why you bothered.’

  ‘It’s nice to get encouragement.’ Poppy put sarcasm into her tone. ‘If I hadn’t been so determined, you’d have put me off before I started. A bit of support would be appreciated, but you’re too busy making little of anything I’ve achieved.’ She was getting fed up with Peter pouring scorn on what she was doing, and thought him selfish in wanting her to finish night school so she could be with him. He was becoming possessive, and she was finding it stilling. ‘When I’ve completed the three-month course, I’ll be fully qualified. I don’t have to worry about my typing, as I’m well up to speed with that, after working as a typist for nearly four years.’