by June Francis
Mike whistled under his breath as he stretched out his legs to the blaze and crunched into a piece of toast. ‘This is good,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Almost like home.’
‘You have a family?’ Flora’s fingers curled tightly round the cup, finding comfort in its heat.
‘I have five brothers and sisters. Two older brothers and a sister, and two younger sisters. The big ones are married so I have a handful of nieces and nephews. Sure miss them.’ He grimaced. ‘They’ll have grown bigger and maybe the youngest will have forgotten who I am.’
‘You’ll be able to pick up where you left off with them, though,’ she murmured.
He nodded. ‘Too right.’ His teeth bit into the last of his toast. ‘Hilda said you had kids. That must comfort you?’
She took a sip of tea and swallowed, remembering. ‘I don’t know what I’d have done without them. I wanted to die at one time but George rid me of that nonsense. They need me and I love them and that’s what keeps me going.’
‘That’s the stuff, Flo. You keep on fighting the miseries and you’ll come through. Wanting what might have been don’t do you any good.’ He stared into the fire. ‘I had a girl once. Met her at college, had a good thing going. Then she was killed in an automobile smash.’ His expression was sombre. ‘Don’t pay to dwell on what might have been. Life’s for the living and there has to be a reason why some cop it young while others get a fair old stretch. So go for it while you’ve got it, that’s what I say.’ He stretched out a hand towards her, but in that second the door knocker banged furiously.
Relief showed on Flora’s face, but Mike stood and swore as she hurried to answer its summons. He picked up his mac and cap and followed her slowly, so that he was a couple of feet behind when she opened the door.
‘Good! You’re in,’ said George. ‘Grandad said –’ His voice faded away as he caught sight of Mike.
‘This is a friend of mine.’ Flora could think of no other explanation. ‘I wasn’t feeling well so he saw me home. He was just leaving.’
‘You don‘t have to go, chum, because of us,’ said George, his face brightening as he weighed up the American.
‘That’s nice of you, kid, but –’ He shot a glance at Flora and knew from her expression that she wanted him out, ‘I reckon your mom’s going to be busy now you’ve come home.’ His smile flashed. ‘But it was sure –’
He was interrupted by Rosie, who planted herself in front of him. ‘You’re a Yank! Have you got any gum, chum?’
George cuffed her head. ‘Rosie, you don’t ask!’
‘Nothing wrong with asking! Mike’s smile grew broader. ‘Haven’t got any cinnamon-flavoured on me, but I’ll sure get some and pass it on to your mom.’
‘Thanks.’ George grinned and thrust out his hand. ‘I’m George – pleased to meet you.’
‘Likewise.’ They shook hands.
‘I’m Rosie, his sister.’ She shoved George aside. ‘And this is my cousin Viv.’ She dragged Vivien forward, and Hilda’s daughter smiled shyly at Mike.
He stilled. ‘Guess I’m pleased to meet you too,’ he drawled, taking Vivien’s small hand. He slanted another look at Flora standing rigidly in the doorway, and could not prevent an unholy grin. ‘D’you all mind going in while I have a last word with your mother?’
‘That’s not necessary!’ exclaimed Flora, her eyes involuntarily going to Vivien. ‘We haven’t anything else to say to each other.’ Her hands reached for the girls. ‘Goodbye, Mike.’
‘I think we have,’ he said cheerfully, his fingers busying themselves with buttons. ‘Those girls sure look like their mothers.’
Flora swore silently. George looked at her. ‘Mam, do we go in or stay here?’ His gaze went to Mike, who indicated indoors with his head. George did not move but looked at his mother.
‘Inside,’ Flora said. ‘I won’t be long.’ They went and she turned on Mike. ‘Now what is it you’ve got to say to me?’ Her tone was sharp.
‘I think you know. Viv is Hilda’s kid, isn’t she?’ He looked her straight in the eye.
‘And if she is,’ she said fiercely, ‘are you going to tell Tony?’
‘That depends.’ He stepped up on to the step beside her. ‘If you come out with me I can forget I ever saw her – although it goes against the grain with me.’
She stared over his shoulder. ‘I don’t think I like you. And now you’ve said what you wanted to say, you can go.’ She turned back into the lobby but he took her arm.
‘Flo, it could be good,’ he said earnestly. ‘Hilda’s and Tony’s affairs are theirs. You and me now – let’s have some fun. And I mean just that – no hanky panky. I understand how you feel about Tom.’
‘Will you go?’ she said furiously, aware that a curtain was twitching across the street. ‘You’re making a show of me.’
He tutted. ‘The neighbours? Is all that respectability stuff that important to you?’
‘Truth is, people say things about widows and Yanks! Now will you let go of my arm?’
‘Sure.’ He glanced up at the louring sky. ‘Give it some thought, Flo. Why should it be only Hilda who gets to go out? You’ve had it tough – you need a break.’ His hand brushed her cheek.
She stilled. His touch was somehow comforting, and unexpectedly some of the derogatory words Hilda had said about her rang in her head. For a moment she was tempted to agree to go out with him. It was gratifying to have a man taking notice of her, whatever his motives. Then she thought of Tom. ‘Go, Mike,’ she pleaded. ‘There’s nothing for you here.’
He shook his head slowly. ‘I’m the best judge of that. But I’Il give you time to think.’ He raised her hand and kissed it. ‘I’ll be back, and I’ll be hoping the answer is yes.’ His fingers squeezed hers, and then he left her before she could say any more.
Flora watched him until he was out of sight, and then she went in, closing the door slowly. The sensible thing to do was to tell Hilda what had happened, so that she could tell Tony about Viv before Mike did. Her sister was not going to be best pleased but she had to tell her. Having decided what she was going to do, Flora tried to put disruptive thoughts out of her mind and settle to cooking the children dinner.
It seemed a long time before Hilda came in, and when she did she was on the bounce.
‘What the hell did you mean by going off with Mike?’ she demanded, her lovely face contorted with anger. ‘It was Tony you came to meet and you left the pair of us hanging high and dry while you waltzed off.’
‘Hold on now,’ said Flora slowly. ‘It wasn’t my idea. It was Mike who took me in hand, and as soon as he gave me a chance to catch my breath at the tram stop in Lime Street, I told him to go back to you. I didn’t want his company.’
‘Ha! It didn’t look like that to me. The way you were knocking the drinks back and then crying and working on his sympathy, I was ashamed of you.’ She folded her arms and kicked at the slumbering coals.
‘I’m sorry.’ A small flame of anger started to burn deep inside Flora. ‘You don’t have to worry about it happening again. I’m hardly likely to –’
‘Tony was embarrassed,’ interrupted Hilda, frowning into the fire. ‘We left the pub almost immediately after you and couldn’t see any sign of either of you. Where did you go?’
‘I came home, and –’
‘Mike was away ages.’ Hilda tapped her fingernails against the chimney-breast. ‘He wouldn’t say where he’d been. I suppose he met someone else. Another girl after he left you at the tram stop. He’s a dreadful flirt.’ A slight smile eased her mouth. ‘He even flirts with me occasionally. It’s only a bit of fun. Tony knows that, although he’s a bit jealous. Mike likes a laugh.’ She was silent a moment, staring at the wall. Then she switched her gaze to Flora. ‘He’d hardly get that with you, Flo. I mean you’re still so miserable. A man doesn’t like that – you’d be no fun.’
‘No. No fun at all.’ Flora’s voice was taut. ‘I suppose you think that he wouldn’t find me attractive either?�
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Hilda studied her. ‘I suppose he might – we do have a look of each other sometimes. But you’re not really his type.’ She sounded calmer now. ‘What did you think of Tony? Isn’t he handsome?’
‘Gorgeous,’ said Flora shortly. ‘I’m going to bed now. Goodnight.’ She went upstairs and undressed slowly. Afterwards she lay thinking over Mike’s words about Tom, staring dry-eyed into the darkness with the leaden sensation in her insides. Then she thought about her sister and what she had said about her and Mike, and she came to a decision.
That night she dreamed that she was the Statue of Liberty and Mike was scaling her.
Chapter Six
Flora was tense over the next few days, half-expecting Mike to call or her sister to explode into fury because he had told Tony about Vivien. But neither thing happened and gradually she relaxed a little. She was still trying to come to terms with what Mike had said about Tom but she found it difficult to be rational and her emotions were almost as confused as they had been when the news had first come about him being missing presumed dead.
More than a week had passed when George came in just as Flora was putting some scones in the oven. ‘Mam, I’ve got a message for you.’
She sniffed. ‘I can smell chewing gum.’
He grinned. ‘It’s that Yank, Mam. He’s waiting to see you round the corner. He said he wouldn’t come to the door – something about your reputation.’
‘Oh! What’s he want?’ She tried to appear casual and uncaring but her nerves were jangling. Now that Mike had actually come she found herself reversing the decision she had made before she had dreamed about him.
‘He didn’t say.’ George stared at her with a look of feigned innocence in his brown eyes. ‘But maybe he wants to take you out.’
‘You can tell him the answer’s the same as before – no.’ She straightened up and wiped floury hands on her apron. George did not move. She raised interrogative eyebrows. ‘Well? What are you waiting for?’
He rubbed his nose. ‘He seems a nice bloke, Mam. And it’d do you good to go out. Aunt Hilda’s always gallivanting but you never go anywhere.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t be able to go anywhere now because she isn’t in and I’m not leaving you kids on your own. So you can go and tell him that – if you’re so worried about hurting his feelings with a direct no.’
George pulled a face but nodded and went out. He was back again within five minutes, smiling. ‘Mike said that we can go with you as well. He suggested the pictures. What d’you say, Mam?’ he said persuasively. ‘We haven’t been to the pictures for a couple of weeks.’
Flora hesitated, then met his imploring gaze. Without giving herself more time to think or feel, she replied: ‘All right. But tell him he’ll have to wait a while. I’ve got scones in the oven and I’ll have to change – and you lot’ll have to wash,’ she added in a rush, dragging off her apron.
George whooped: ‘It’s Sexton Blake!’ and dashed out to fetch the girls. Flora’s feelings towards Mike suddenly warmed and she went to get ready.
The girls and George washed and changed at top speed and disappeared before Flora was even half ready. She found them waiting with Mike round the corner in the doorway of the wool and babywear shop. His eyes showed surprised appreciation as she came to a halt in front of them, and she was glad she had made the effort to do the best to her face with what Hilda had in a drawer upstairs.
A grin lit up his pleasant features. ‘It sure was worth the wait.’
A smile tugged at Flora’s lips. ‘I’m sorry to have kept you but I’d forgotten what you said last time and didn’t expect to see you.’
‘Didn’t you?’ His tone seemed to suggest that he knew she was lying.
‘It’s been over a week.’
‘Yes. We’ve been busy.’ He took her arm to cross the road. The children fell in each side of them. ‘Some of us are moving out. So it’s all systems go.’
She gave him a quick sidelong glance. ‘Will you be leaving?’
‘And Tony. Which means that the wedding might be brought forward.’ He frowned and added in a low voice, ‘Did you know this guy Hilda went with? Was she engaged to him or something and he got killed?’
‘I don’t know,’ she murmured, wishing he had not brought up the subject. ‘She told me so little at the time and I got the impression that questions would be unwelcome. But she doesn’t expect to see him again. Perhaps he’s dead. He was in the forces.’
‘Which one?’
‘I don’t know. Can we drop it? I take it you didn’t tell Tony?’
‘No, I didn’t,’ he said shortly. ‘Did you tell Hilda about me?’
‘No. I didn’t think it was any of her business.’ Her voice was terse.
They looked at each other and Mike smiled. ‘Good.’ It began to rain and he talked about the British weather. Flora was surprised at how good it felt listening to a man’s voice and enjoyed the warm feel of his hand on her arm. They discussed films, arguing the merits of American against British.
She enjoyed the picture and not only because the children were obviously doing so. The brush of Mike’s shoulder against hers and the look in his eyes when they exchanged glances gave an unexpected lift to her spirits. Nevertheless she almost turned him down when he suggested another date. Only he asked the children where they would like to go and that settled the matter.
Mike took them to the Pavillion and they saw Dorothy Ward in Mother Goose. Flora would have felt quite guilty at him spending so much money on them except that he appeared as much a child at heart as they did when it came to booing the villain.
It seemed to be expected when they parted under the lamp post at the corner of the street that there would be another meeting.
There was a cold snap and it was a Sunday afternoon when he next called, so they went to the park where George frightened the life out of Flora by sliding on the iced-over lake, which cracked. He made it to the bank but had wet feet and socks so they went home. Flora knew that she could not do anything else but invite Mike in. Fortunately Hilda was out. They had hot tea and shared a Polperro Pasty made from pilchards, leeks and mashed potatoes. Mike said that it was better than service food and asked her out again – this time without the kids. It would have been difficult to say no, so she agreed but warned him that she might not be able to make it if she could not persuade her father to mind the children.
‘Tell your Hilda you’re meeting an old friend and let her have the kids for once.’
So she did. Her sister frowned. ‘What old friend? This is sudden, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. She’s just come out of the Wrens.’ And Flora left the kitchen quickly before Hilda could ask any more questions. She prayed that the children would not mention Mike, and was annoyed with herself for fearing her sister’s reaction to the truth. More by luck than deceit Mike’s name had not figured in any conversation in Hilda’s presence.
It snowed and so Mike took her for a meal. As they talked he told her that Mrs Roosevelt had gotten involved in the affairs of the G.I. wives in Britain, and now things were bound to speed up. He covered her hand and added, ‘What d’you think of us Yanks now that you know one a little better?’
‘You shouldn’t ask me questions like that,’ she said in a light voice, trying to free her hand.
‘Why?’ His tone was serious. ‘I want to know what you think. You English are experts at hiding your real feelings. D’you still think I’m the rake you first thought me?’
She lowered her eyes. ‘You’re much nicer than I thought you could be.’
‘Nicer!’ He sounded disgusted. “‘Attractive” and “fascinating” were the words I was hoping for.’ His eyes twinkled roguishly. Flora laughed. ‘That’s better.’ His fingers squeezed hers. ‘You’re lovely when you forget and let yourself enjoy the moment.’
The laughter died in her face. ‘Mike, I – haven’t forgotten. Or at least, it is only for the moment. Then I remember again. Don’t let’s get –’
/> ‘Serious?’ His expression was warm. ‘Sure.’ He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. ‘Let it be fun.’
She nodded and slipped her hand from beneath his, asking him where he came from.
‘California – where it’s hot and sunny. I’m in the fruit canning business.’
She smiled. ‘Go west, young man! Where all the wagon trains went. San Francisco – the golden gates – sunshine – and earthquakes! That’s as much as I know. New Jersey is where Tony comes from, so Hilda said, and that sounds a lot different. How did you two meet?’
‘In the forces. But don’t let’s talk about that.’ He stroked the back of her hand again. ‘Let’s talk about you.’
‘Boring,’ she said, deciding to ignore what he was doing.
‘Tell me about your family and when you were a little girl,’ he insisted.
So she told him about her father and his stories of life on the old sailing ships, and how her mother had died of rheumatic fever when Flora was nine. About Aunt Beattie who had taken care of them, and how Hilda had said she was like a witch because she had six cats and was a bit eccentric in her dress. Several times he laughed at the tales she told. Then she talked about Liverpool, and how she and Rosie might not be here still if the baby had come a week earlier. About the bomb that had torn into the hospital not far away and killed the mothers and children. And after that she fell silent because she was thinking of Tom.
When the evening was over Flora thought Mike might not want to go out with her again. She had not scintillated and she felt certain that he must have got bored with her. But he asked her out again despite her warning him that she might have to bring the children next time.
The weeks passed and Flora and Mike continued to see each other, although they were seldom alone again.
‘Mam!’ George’s breath was warm on Flora’s cheek as he leaned over her. ‘I’ve got a message for you.’
Flora breathed in sharply. ‘Mike! Didn’t you tell him you weren’t allowed any treats? Your sins have caught up with you George Cooke,’ she said coolly.
