by June Francis
‘You look really lovely,’ said Clara, doing her best to prevent Georgie from climbing onto the running board and thinking of some of the lovely clothes in Alice’s wardrobe.
‘Thanks,’ said Alice.
Freddie said, ‘Hold on tight.’
Clara swung Georgie up into her arms.
There were tears in Alice’s eyes as she gazed at him because she had never been parted from him before. She would not have left him now if Seb had not needed her. She trusted Clara to take care of her baby, knowing Hanny was not far away. Indeed, she and Kenny had come to wave her off. Alice gripped the seat with one hand and waved with the other. ‘See you all when I get back,’ she said. ‘Be good, children.’
‘Give Daddy a kiss for me,’ shouted Flora, waving madly as the car moved off.
Those left behind stood watching until it was out of sight. Then Tilly called the two older children to her because she was taking them to school.
‘Hope all goes well with your day, Clara,’ she said, adding in a low voice, ‘Don’t forget to keep your eyes open for that prowler.’
‘Thanks,’ she replied, wishing Tilly hadn’t tagged on that last bit.
‘I’ll be at hand if you need advice,’ said Hanny.
Clara thanked her, too, feeling suddenly terribly nervous.
They all went their separate ways. Clara going indoors, holding Georgie by the hand.
* * *
By twelve o’clock Clara was feeling ready to put her feet up. She had soon discovered that taking care of Georgie without Alice on hand was far more difficult and tiring than she would have believed yesterday. Fortunately, Hanny dropped by with the twins, bringing with her a package of sage and onion stuffed cooked pigs’ hearts from the cooked meat shop in Foregate Street. ‘I thought this might do for your evening meal,’ she said.
Clara accepted them gratefully, thinking that, with potatoes and cabbage, she could make them all a nice supper. She was feeling better now and there had been no sign of a prowler. As she made a cup of tea, she thought of Alice and hoped that she would arrive safely at her destination.
Chapter Twenty-One
Alice’s high heels rang hollowly on the asphalt as she strode through the open gates into the hospital grounds. She had telephoned ahead from the station so that the matron and Seb would know when to expect her arrival. She had been informed that her husband was not confined to bed and she was likely to find him in the gardens as it was such a fine spring day. Alice was pleased about that, knowing that, if he was up and about, he would be feeling better in himself. She was nervous. He was bound to ask her where she had found the cash to make this journey and she was going to have to tell him the truth. For months she had tried not to make demands on Seb for any extra money beyond her housekeeping. She felt certain it would be a blow to his pride when he was told that she had been rummaging in the attic and pawning stuff. There had always been the hope that she could redeem it within the allotted time but, unfortunately, she had never had the money to enable her to do that. No doubt he was going to be hurt and even angry, but she could no longer delay telling him what she had done. But of course, money was not their only worry.
As she walked up the drive between beds of daffodils and budding tulips and lawns, she was determined to keep calm if there should be bad news. At the moment, it was easy to remain at peace in such pleasant surroundings. Suddenly, she spotted her husband pacing the ground beneath an elm situated on a rise. She noticed that he was wearing his eye patch and was smoking a cigarette; his right arm was in a sling.
‘Seb!’ she called, putting on a spurt.
His head turned so that his unmarred profile was turned towards her. He dropped the stub of his cigarette and extinguished it with the heel of his shoe. Then he came striding towards her with an eagerness that reminded her of a day long ago when they had arranged to meet in Grosvenor Park. She had been in a bit of a state over her father and had been desperate to persuade Seb to run away with her. He had reminded her of that day not so long ago. It had ended in tears, but she had never forgotten how eagerly he had come to greet her. Now, he reached out a hand and she gripped it tightly.
‘I never expected to see you here. How did you manage it?’
She looked him straight in the eye. ‘I hocked some of the stuff from out of the attic. I’ve been doing it for ages.’
He stared at her as if he could not believe what he was hearing. ‘You’ve what!’
Alice felt the blood rush to her cheeks. ‘Each time the children needed shoes or a new winter coat, I went up there and rooted through stuff and took them to the pawnshop.’
His face darkened. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were short of money?’
‘Because I didn’t want to worry you. Have you forgotten what you were like when you first came home?’
‘I know, I know. I thought there were a few things missing up there.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘Hell! What you must have been through and I kept insisting that I couldn’t work.’
‘I’m sorry. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to tell you, but I just had to come and see you this time, so I found a few more things and took them to Uncle.’
‘You amaze me.’ A faint smile lit his face. ‘Where is this pawnshop? I can’t say I’ve ever noticed one in Chester.’ She told him. ‘You walked all the way up there carrying stuff?’ he said on a rising note.
‘On the pram! Clara came with me last time. She’s a gem. Asked no questions, although she must have been wondering.’
‘What’s Clara got to do with this?’
‘She’s staying at the house and is looking after Georgie – and she won’t accept any payment.’
He frowned. ‘That’s good of her. But you’ll have to give her something. We can’t have her losing out.’
‘She won’t because she doesn’t go back to the picture house until next week. I have something in mind to give her but it’s not money.’ Alice smiled at the thought of what she had planned.
When he saw that smile, Seb drew her against him and kissed her long and deep. It was a very satisfying kiss and they parted reluctantly.
‘How are you feeling now?’ she asked.
‘Happier for seeing you.’
‘I’ve missed you, too.’ She rested her head against his chest and breathed in the familiar scent of him, which was overlaid with the antiseptic smell of hospitals. ‘I don’t want ever to be parted from you again.’
‘I feel the same.’
‘Has the doctor said how long you’ll be here?’
‘No. And I can’t even start physiotherapy until the wound’s healed.’
She touched his arm lightly and felt the splints beneath the sling. ‘You’re not in pain?’
He did not answer immediately because he was thinking of the agony of some of the wounded and dying men in the clearing station Don had taken him to in France. What were his sufferings compared to those men?
‘I’m damn fortunate to be alive, so what’s a little bit of pain? The surgeon has told me that I should get back a fair amount of mobility in my arm.’
Alice’s face lit up. ‘That’s marvellous.’
He nodded. ‘Seeing you has made me think that there must be decent physiotherapists up north. I mean, there’s big cities, Liverpool, Manchester. I’m going to ask the surgeon if there’s a man he can recommend nearer home. It’s not as if I need to stay in hospital to have the treatment.’
Alice felt a rising excitement and joy. ‘I’m all for that.’
‘Then I’ll certainly ask him.’ He grinned. ‘I bet they could even take the stitches out up there.’
‘And in the meantime, I’ll stay at a bed and breakfast in the village,’ she said.
He cocked an eyebrow. ‘You must have received a fair amount of money for that rubbish in the attic.’
She smiled. ‘Watch what you’re calling rubbish. Some of it was good stuff. I was hoping to redeem them but…’
‘Don’t bother,’ he said firmly. ‘We can
live without it. Instead of pawning, why don’t you sell the lot? Flora will be needing a new frock for Easter in a few days and you must have one, too.’
She was glad that he felt the way he did. ‘I think Flora will have to wait for Whit for a new frock because it’s too close to Easter for me to go shopping.’ She paused, before adding, ‘And talking about Flora, she told me I was to give you a kiss from her.’ Alice promptly kissed him.
‘That was nice of my daughter,’ murmured Seb against his wife’s lips. Alice was uncertain whether to tell him about the talk she’d had with Flora and James. To her surprise, Seb said, ‘What is it?’
‘You know me so well,’ she marvelled. ‘It’s just that I had a talk with James and Flora the other evening. They’re jealous of the attention you’ve been giving to Georgie. According to Flora, they’re missing out on hugs and kisses.’
Seb looked astounded. ‘Honestly? But I thought…’
‘I can guess what you thought but you’re wrong. I did tell them that you probably thought they mightn’t want you kissing them because of your scars. They hadn’t thought of that,’ she said, hugging him tightly. ‘Now you know…’
‘I can do something about it,’ he concluded with a sigh.
She kissed him and then eased away from him to gaze into his eye. ‘I’m sorry you’ll miss the christening.’
‘Who said I will?’ There was a determined expression on his face as he drew her close once more. ‘I’ll ask to speak to the specialist in the morning and, if he’s in agreement, we’ll head home within a couple of days. After the christening, I’ll speak to Kenny about what we can do to build up the business – and after treatment I’ll get more involved with the practicalities of selling motors.’
She was so filled with relief and joy by his words that she flung her arms round his neck and kissed him again and again. She could not wait to get home, but in the meantime she was going to make the best of having Seb all to herself.
* * *
‘Alice should well be there by now,’ said Freddie, flicking over the pages of that week’s Chester Chronicle as he leant against the dresser in the Bennetts’ kitchen.
‘I wonder if she’ll telegraph,’ said Tilly, perched on the edge of the table, swinging her legs and watching Clara attempting to strap a wriggling Georgie into his feeding chair. ‘Do you want any help there?’ she called.
‘No. I can manage,’ Clara replied without looking up. ‘If you want to help, you could mash the potatoes.’ Clara managed to hold both of Georgie’s hands in one of hers whilst fastening the final buckle of his harness. ‘We’re having them with cabbage and stuffed hearts.’
‘Shop bought or did you cook them yourself?’ asked Tilly, opening a drawer and taking out the masher.
‘Hanny brought them and I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.’ Clara straightened up. ‘There, all done,’ she said, smiling down at Georgie.
‘I presume you can cook,’ said Tilly, draining the potatoes. She took margarine out of the larder.
‘Of course I can. Can you?’ asked Clara, slicing off a knob of butter and mashing it with chopped boiled egg in a dish.
‘Well enough if I have to look after myself.’
Freddie glanced at Tilly. ‘Why should you have to do that?’ he asked. ‘You’re comfortable here, aren’t you?’ Then he groaned. ‘You don’t still have that daft idea of being a writer and travelling? It’s not the right life for a girl.’
Tilly glared at him. ‘I wasn’t going to do it tomorrow or the next day,’ she said jerkily as she began to mash the potatoes. ‘But I thought you were in favour of my having a go at writing.’
‘Yes. What’s wrong with Tilly having a career?’ asked Clara, buttering a slice of bread. ‘If the war proved anything, it was that women are capable of doing a lot of jobs that men can do.’
‘That’s right,’ said Tilly, smiling at Clara. ‘Did you know that Elinor Glyn, the romance writer, was a newspaper correspondent in France during the war? If she can go abroad and write, I don’t see why I shouldn’t be able to one day.’
‘You mean to report on women’s fashions from Paris and Rome?’ said Freddie with a hint of a smile. ‘I suppose that would be OK because you seem to love clothes.’
Tilly’s eyes flashed green fire. ‘I want to do more than that! At least Don believes I’m capable of becoming a good writer, he encouraged me. Fashion reports! Pah!’ she muttered, thumping the potatoes with the masher.
‘I think you’ve probably done them enough,’ said Clara, glancing at Tilly as she, herself, cut the bread into fingers.
‘Sorry,’ muttered Tilly, banging the masher on the side of the pan so that several bits of potato fell back into the mash.
‘Who’s Don?’ asked Freddie, taking up the newspaper again.
Tilly smiled sweetly. ‘Wouldn’t you like to know.’
‘That’s why I asked,’ he said shortly. ‘I hope you haven’t got a follower. You’re far too young.’
‘I’d rather call him an admirer,’ said Tilly, licking mashed potato from a finger. ‘he’s tall and handsome with fair hair.’
‘Do Alice and Kenny know about him?’ asked Freddie, frowning.
‘Yes. It was Don who found Seb and saved his life. He and Alice like him. He writes to me regularly.’
‘So he doesn’t live in Chester?’ said Freddie.
‘No. In America.’ Tilly smiled. ‘He sent me photos of his home. He reckons that when I’m twenty-one the age difference between us won’t matter, so he’s going to come back to England then.’
‘So he’s not in a hurry to claim you.’
Tilly frowned. ‘You think he’s toying with my feelings, don’t you?’ There was a note in her voice that caused Clara to pause in the act of placing Georgie’s food on his feeding tray.
‘Did I say that?’ protested Freddie. ‘I’m stating a fact that absence doesn’t always make the heart grow fonder. How old is this American?’
‘None of your business. If Kenny and Seb don’t object to us writing to each other, then I don’t see what it has to do with you,’ she said.
‘You’re getting pert, young lady,’ said Freddie, but he said no more on the subject after that.
Clara wondered just how much Freddie did care about Tilly writing to the American, but she must not start reading more into what he had said than there was. They were related by marriage and had known each other from childhood, so it was natural that Freddie spoke to Tilly with an easy familiarity that Clara almost envied. It had not been an easy day and she must not allow herself to get hot under the collar because of their conversation or because they had arrived at the house together. Freddie had explained that he had been helping out at the repair yard and, as Tilly was working in the office, it had made sense to give her a lift home.
Clara was a little on edge, feeling a need to prove that she could cope with Georgie and do everything else that she set out to do, such as keeping the place tidy and preparing the meals. Georgie was not a naughty boy or terribly demanding, but he did need watching and that wasn’t easy when she was doing other things.
‘So what are we going to do this evening?’ asked Tilly, after they had finished their meal and the children had left the table.
‘We?’ asked Freddie, glancing at Clara. ‘Would you like to get out of the house for a while and go for a walk?’
‘But who’d look after the children?’ asked Tilly.
He smiled at her. ‘Clara’s looked after Georgie all day. Surely you can put him to bed and let her have a break?’
For a moment Clara thought Tilly was going to protest, but then she said, ‘OK. But be back before dark.’
‘Yes, Ma,’ teased Freddie.
‘I mean it,’ said Tilly. ‘I spotted a prowler in the garden the other evening.’ She glanced at Clara. ‘I mentioned it to you, didn’t I?’
‘You did,’ answered Clara, ‘after I saw that man looking up at the house yesterday morning – but we didn’t
think they were one and the same.’
Freddie’s eyes sharpened. ‘Was the one you saw a tramp? You do get men down on their luck wanting a handout.’
‘But he didn’t ask for handout,’ said Clara. ‘He just wished me good morning and moved off towards the bridge.’
‘And the one I saw must have been younger because he sprinted out of the gate,’ said Tilly promptly. ‘Alice thought he might have been just a youth playing a game.’
‘Could be,’ said Freddie, his expression intent. ‘I remember hiding in doorways and even in neighbour’s yards when I was a kid. What did Alice say about the other man?’
‘Neither Clara nor I mentioned him because we didn’t want to worry her any more than she already was,’ said Tilly.
‘Besides, he looked harmless,’ said Clara, stacking the dishes.
‘You said you thought you’d seen him before,’ said Tilly.
Freddie stared at Clara. ‘I suppose you don’t remember where?’
‘I haven’t had time to give it much thought,’ she murmured, frowning and staring into the distance. ‘I can’t remember. I’m taking these dishes out and washing them. After that, if you still want to go for a walk, Freddie, we’ll go.’
‘Let Tilly wash the dishes,’ said Freddie firmly. ‘Give me the tray. I’ll carry them to the kitchen while you get your coat on.’
‘Thanks a lot,’ said Tilly. ‘It obviously doesn’t matter that the children’s lives and mine could be in danger.’
‘Don’t be melodramatic,’ said Freddie. ‘D’you think Clara would be suggesting us going out if she believed that?’
Tilly did not answer but as she walked out of the room, her voice floated back to them. ‘I’m going to be locking all the doors so when you come back, the two of you are going to have to knock very loudly if you want to be let in.’
Freddie rolled his eyes at Clara and she grimaced. ‘I’ll go and fetch my coat.’
