by June Francis
Hilda flushed. ‘Is that what this is all about? Money?’
‘You’ve just said that it’s important,’ said Flora in honeyed tones. ‘That people can’t live on love. So how about it, dear sister?’
Hilda blew out a stream of smoke, her expression moody. ‘All right, I’ll give you some more. Anything else while we’re at it?’
‘Yes.’ Flora would have felt more convinced by her sister’s words if she had produced the money on the spot. ‘You can do your own, and Viv’s, washing and ironing. I’m not a skivvy.’
‘I did tell you to ask me if there was anything you wanted me to do.’ Her voice was irritable.
‘I have, and you haven’t done it. You’ve got cloth ears.’ Flora’s hand trembled on the iron. ‘You’ve said I know nothing about life,’ she said vehemently. ‘Well, it’s time you learnt a thing or two. Life’s not about you being carried by people all the time.’
‘Oh, I’m going out!’ exclaimed Hilda loudly, stubbing out her cigarette. ‘I’ll iron the clothes I want to wear myself now. That’ll save you.’
‘Be my guest,’ said Flora, putting the iron back on the fire, and walking over to the window to stare out at the yard with its empty windowboxes. The silence now was overwhelming. She turned and switched the wireless on. Martial music marched into the room. Her lips twitched as her sister thumped the iron in time to the music.
‘I won’t be in for dinner.’ Hilda’s voice was loud. ‘Nor for tea neither – so that should save you some money.’
‘Good,’ murmured Flora, watching her place a scarlet jumper on a chair, and pick up a skirt. ‘Will you be in for bed?’ Her voice was light.
Hilda’s eyes darkened. ‘Are you being funny?’
‘No,’ said Flora with an innocent wide-eyed stare. ‘I just don’t want to lock you out all night.’
‘I’m not going dancing, so I probably will be in fairly early. Unless it’s that you want the pleasure of locking me out?’ she said frostily.
‘I wasn’t planning on that.’ Unexpectedly Flora felt like an old, old woman with a wayward daughter, and was chilled. I’m too young for this, she thought rebelliously.
‘All right then.’ Hilda put down the iron and began to change.
For once she did not take an age fiddling with powder, soot and rouge. It was only ten minutes before she was dragging on her coat. Her hand was on the door knob when she faced Flora, who was automatically picking up Hilda’s nightdress from the floor. ‘You should leave it for me when I come in,’ she said with a touch of amused malice. ‘I don’t expect you to slave for me like you did for Tom. The original doormat, that’s what you were, Flo, and I suppose that’s what he saw in you. He was an arrogant sod but you could never see it.’
Flora drew in a hissing breath and flung the nightdress at her. ‘Bitch!’ Hilda caught it and threw it back but when Flora picked up a shoe she quickly shut the door and clickclacked up the lobby, slamming the front door behind her.
The shoe slipped from Flora’s fingers and for a moment she just stood staring at the door, knotted up with hurt and frustration. Then she picked up the iron and rammed it on the fire.
Flora was curled up on the well worn couch reading a library book when Hilda returned just after nine. She did not look up as her sister entered the kitchen.
‘Would you like a cuppa?’ Hilda’s voice was soft and hesitant. Flora glanced up at her and then down at her book. Her sister continued, ‘Flo, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I did. I suppose it was my guilty conscience that caused me to. I am grateful for what you do for me and Viv. You’re a much better mother to her than I’ll ever be.’
‘She’s a nice kid,’ murmured Flora, surprise and warmth flooding her. ‘If you’re making that cuppa I’ll have one.’
Hilda smiled. ‘Right!’
The kettle was soon boiling and from her pocket Hilda produced a rather squashed bun. Hurriedly she picked a speck of red fluff from its top and handed it to her sister.
‘Thanks.’ Flora took a bite. It was slightly stale, but she accepted that it was a peace offering so knew that gratitude was in order.
Her sister passed her a cup of tea, then lit up a cigarette. ‘Viv get to bed all right?’
‘Of course.’ Flora stared at her; it was not like Hilda to ask. ‘Did you have a nice day?’
‘Lovely.’ Her face glowed. ‘We went to Blackpool and had our dinner in a hotel.’
‘Did you walk along the front?’
‘For a little while.’ She shivered. ‘Tony likes that sort of thing. Wind and weather – seagulls and the sea all grey and stormy. He quite likes Liverpool.’ She sounded surprised.
‘Why shouldn’t he?’ said Flora indignantly. ‘Where does he come from?’
‘New Jersey. A place called Harrison, just over the river from Newark, which he says is their largest city.’ She hesitated. ‘Flo –’
There was something in her voice that caused Flora to still. ‘What?’ she asked warily.
‘He’s asked me to marry him.’ Hilda sounded half excited, half frightened. ‘He’s really asked me to marry him!’
‘And you said yes, of course,’ murmured Flora, not sure exactly what her feelings were.
Hilda moved closer to the fire. She was trembling. ‘What did you expect me to say? I’m going to America! Away from rationing – away from the sight of bombed buildings – from shortages and that boring job in the tobacco factory. Oh, I can’t wait to leave this place. Wish me happy, Flo!’
Unable to keep still any longer, she stood up. ‘Of course I wish you happy, only –’
‘I can’t go straightaway.’ Hilda stared into the fire. ‘There’s all sorts of things to be done. Forms to fill in. I might have to wait a while. Tony says that some wives have been waiting ages to join their husbands. Some have waited over a year with visas, passports and everything. But I don’t mind waiting now I know I’m going. The war’s over so things are bound to move quicker.’
Flora forced herself to say, ‘It’s a pity you’ll have to take Viv away from school just as she’s settled.’
Some of the excitement faded from Hilda’s face and she moistened her mouth. ‘I’ve been thinking about Viv – and as you say it would be a shame to take her out of school.’ She fiddled with her cigarette. There was a silence.
‘You have told Tony about Viv, haven’t you?’ said Flora at last.
Hilda flung her arms wide. ‘I couldn’t! He thinks the sun shines out of me! Calls me his angel. Thinks I’m wonderful – that I’m a virgin!’ She paused and lowered her head. ‘Don’t look at me like that, Flo. I’m just not mother material. It’s not that I’m not fond of Viv. I am. But I just couldn’t tell Tony about her.’
Flora stared at her unbelievingly. ‘You’ll have to tell him. If he loves you, he’ll understand these things happen in war.’
Hilda looked uncomfortable. ‘Not Tony. He’s religious. He’s Catholic!’
‘Catholic!’ Flora stared at her. ‘Father’ll have a fit.’
‘It’s got nothing to do with him,’ said Hilda impatiently.
‘I don’t go to church so what does it matter? It’s my life.’
Flora frowned. ‘You said it! But doesn’t your faith mean anything to you?’
Hilda pulled a face. ‘Father put me off it a long time ago – he’s so narrow and bigoted. And where’s the love in his kind of religion?’
‘I know!’ Flora let out a low breath. ‘But just the same, a Catholic. Doesn’t Tony mind you being a Protestant?’
‘I said I’d change.’
Flora bit back what she would have liked to have said, and instead murmured, ‘I hope you know what you’re doing. They believe in large families – lots of kids. But then maybe because of that he might be inclined to understand what happened to you better than you think.’
A sharp laugh escaped her sister. ‘Don’t be so naive, Flo. You know men have one rule for them and another for us. And to some, sex outside marriage
is the big sin – bigger than pride or greed.’ She frowned. ‘Viv will be happy with you. But if you don’t want her – then – I’ll just have to stick her in a home.’
‘A home! Little Viv!’ Her face dark with anger, Flora slapped Hilda’s face. ‘You’re cruel! Selfish!’
Her sister’s hand went to her stinging cheek. ‘Don’t you ever do that to me again,’ she hissed.’
Flora’s eyes blazed green fire. ‘What if when Mam died Father had put us in a home? Would you have liked it?’
‘I wouldn’t have cared!’ Tears sparkled in her eyes. ‘Did you believe that Aunt Beattie took mother’s place for me? I was older than you. I’d spent more years with Mam. I hated Aunt Beattie’s for ages.’
‘Aunt Beattie was good to us – she was family. You loved Mother. Don’t you think Viv loves you?’
Hilda’s eyes fell. ‘I don’t know. You’re good with her. And I don’t think it’s fair to take Viv away now. She’d miss you and the others much more than she’ll miss me.’
‘You’re making excuses,’ snapped Flora. ‘You’re her mother and she should be with you.’
‘You don’t understand,’ she muttered sullenly.
‘I understand well enough.’ Flora was suddenly weary. ‘You want to go to America with Tony and Viv’s in the way. But he has a right to know the truth about you, Hilda. If he can’t understand …’ Her voice tailed off, but she drew breath again. ‘Good lord, how many G.I. bastards are there in Liverpool?’
‘But that’s why,’ cried Hilda earnestly, leaning towards her. ‘It’s because of Burtonwood, the G.I. airbase, and the sort of woman she is next door that I daren’t tell Tony. Don’t you think those men talk about the women they’ve slept with? He might think that I was like that, and I never went that far. It was just fun – slap and tickle, Flo.’
‘Except the once,’ she said quietly. ‘Did you love him?’
Hilda stared at her and smiled wryly. ‘There you go again, Flo.’ She paused before adding, ‘Yes, I believe I did – once. But love hurts and makes you behave stupidly. I don’t want ever to feel like that again.’
‘It has its good moments.’
‘Yes.’ Hilda’s face crumpled. ‘Oh, Flo, this is my chance – don’t spoil it. I could work at loving Tony. I want to go! I need to escape! I’m thirty and if it wasn’t for the war then maybe I wouldn’t feel like this. But I can’t bear Liverpool now. I acted rashly once – am I to pay for that mistake for the rest of my life?’
‘Do I have to pay for your mistake for the rest of mine?’ asked Flora fiercely. ‘How will I manage for money? It’s bad enough getting any out of you now.’
‘I promise, Flo, that I’ll see you’re all right,’ Hilda said fervently. ‘Before I go I’ll give you all the money I have, and when I get to America I’ll be able to send you food parcels – that’ll help.’
Flora slowly shook her head. ‘I wish I could believe you.’
Hilda’s hand fell and tears hung on the end of her eyelashes. ‘We’re sisters. Once you’d have done anything for me. I thought you cared for me.’
‘That’s blackmail,’ said Flora stonily, moving away from her sister to pick up the old flower-sprigged pyjamas on a chair. ‘But say for now that I’ll keep Viv.’ She turned away. ‘I just hope you know what you’re doing and don’t live to regret it. I’ve had enough – I’m going to bed.’
‘Flora!’
‘What?’ She did not bother looking at her sister.
‘Thanks!’ Hilda’s tone was bright. ‘And if there’s anything I can do for you – I’ll do it.’
‘Thanks,’ she said drily, before fleeing up the stairs.
That night she dreamed and was shocked into consciousness. Her body felt boneless and her thumb wandered to the thin band on her left hand. What kind of woman was she to conjure up such a dream? She had lain with a man in the garden of her dream house and on her finger had flashed a bright shiny new wedding ring.
Dear Lord, what is wrong with me that I’m dreaming of sex? Will I be cast into utter darkness where there’ll be wailing and gnashing of teeth? Or is it just Hilda’s talk about sex and marriage invading my subconscious? Oh Tom, where I are you? I have such needs!
There were tears on her cheeks when she slept again.
When Flora woke it was to remember her words to her sister about Viv, and she wondered if she had been quite crazy. What faith she had in her sister providing for her daughter was tiny. Then Hilda surprised her that evening by giving her a pound note. ‘You’ll get more, Flo,’ she said with a smile. And Flora wanted to believe her, but for now she had other matters on her mind.
The first post-war Christmas happened without too much fuss. There were extra rations and her sister gave Flora some more money. Flora bought some colouring pencils, and lead animals for the farm George was trying to build up. The girls received paintboxes and picture books. On Christmas evening they gathered about the fire to listen to the radio exchange of carols and greetings among children of different countries. And Flora thought of Christmas past and Tom, and ached with longing.
A couple of weeks later Hilda came in after being out with Tony and sat opposite Flora by the fire. She fiddled with her fingers before looking up and saying, ‘Tony would like to meet you.’
‘Oh, would he now?’ said Flora drily, putting down her darning.
‘You don’t have to sound like that! Mind you, I only want him meeting you. So we’ll meet away from the house – in town, maybe? We can have a drink. I’ll let you know when.’
‘I can’t wait,’ murmured Flora.
Hilda pulled a face. ‘Wake up, Flo. I thought you’d be glad of the opportunity to see him – to make sure I’m not throwing myself away on any old bloke!’
‘All right, keep your hair on,’ she said mildly. ‘I would like to weigh him up and see if he’s worth all the fuss you’ve made over catching him.’
‘Good.’ Hilda smiled. ‘Put on your best bib and tucker. You can look quite nice when you try.’
‘Thanks,’ said Flora sarcastically, despite having made up her mind that perhaps meeting Tony was a step in the right direction. As her sister had said, at least she would be able to make up her own mind just what kind of man he was.
Chapter Five
Flora glanced at the clock and hoped that it was still fast. She had taken the children to her father’s. He had made a bit of fuss as usual over Vivien’s presence but in the end he had grudgingly said he would look after them all. She picked up the fur plantpot hat that she had made for Christmas out of a moth-eaten fur coat that she had bought at a jumble sale, and placed it carefully on her copper hair. She wasted a second or two licking her finger and running it over her eyebrows, before asking herself why she was bothering. Only to come back with the answer that her sister had put her on her mettle. She felt that she had to look good for her own sake, not for Hilda’s or Tony’s. She went out the back way and legged it up the entry in the direction of the main road.
She caught the tram just as it was about to depart and settled on a window seat. With the darned thumb of her glove she cleared a patch of the steamed up window and peered out at the grey cold muggy day. As they went down Low Hill into the city, she remembered that in days gone by, when she had been with Tom, she had crazily wished that the tram could sprout wings and fly away over the city across the river to the distant hills of Wales, to the sea and adventure. That had been when she was young and full of dreams. She felt old now and very alone.
There were two men in uniform waiting with Hilda as Flora reached the pub where they were meeting. Her heart seemed to jump into her throat as she recognised one of them. He was shorter than the other man, fair, snub-nosed and looked older. She thought there was a gleam of surprise in his eyes, then he smiled a large, wide and welcoming smile. But before he could speak Hilda pulled the other man forward, and to Flora’s relief, said, ‘Flo, this is Tony.’
Tony appeared nervous, clearing his throat as they shook hands
, but he was good looking, Flora could agree with her sister over that. He introduced the other man. ‘This is Mike, he’s gonna be best man.’
Her hand was enveloped in a warm strong clasp. ‘It sure is a pleasure meeting Hilda’s little sister,’ he drawled. ‘But you ain’t a bit like I imagined.’
‘Aren’t I?’ she said coolly, her eyes sparkling slightly.
‘No. The things I’ve heard about you.’ He pursed his mouth and shook his head, but his eyes twinkled as they searched her features. She could not but admire his nerve but it was a long time since a man had flirted with her so she felt a little out of her depth.
‘Perhaps you thought I’d have horns and a tail?’
He laughed. ‘Something like that.’
‘Mike!’ Hilda appeared half-annoyed, half-embarrassed. ‘Take no notice of him, Flo.’
‘Sure he’s a terrible man,’ said Tony smiling. ‘He kissed the Blarney stone, I reckon.’
‘My grandfather did.’ Mike’s glance lazily washed over Flora. ‘Hilda made it sound like you were older than her so I had this picture of an old crone in a black shawl – you know, like you see in your market. Some of them sell flowers. I’d like to buy you flowers right now. Marigolds – golden petalled, with hearts to match.’ His eyes were grey and gazed straight into hers. It took Flora all her self-control not to blush.
‘It’s winter,’ she said coolly. ‘You’d have a job finding them. Are we going in? It’s cold out here.’
‘Sure.’ He took her arm before she could say anything else and led the way in.
‘Now what are we having to drink?’ he asked once the women were seated. ‘This isn’t a wake, folks. This is a wedding we’re gonna be celebrating soon. Although some would say where I come from that there’s not much difference!’ He smiled and rubbed his hands together.
‘I’ll have one of your specials,’ said Hilda, frowning him down. ‘But our Flora’s not used to drink and she’ll probably think them nasty.’
‘One of the port, sherry or lemon dash crowd is she?’ Mike gave Flora a teasing glance. ‘Have one of my specials. Go on, be a devil.’
