Forgive and Forget

by Dickinson, Margaret

‘You don’t need to—’ she began, but Leo laughed softly. ‘Indeed, I do. I might be able to steal another kiss.’

  In the darkness, Polly whispered, ‘You don’t need to steal them Leo. I give them willingly.’

  ‘Oho, do you indeed, Miss Polly,’ he teased. ‘But only to me, I hope.’

  ‘Of course only to you, Leo. You know that.’

  He was serious at once as he said softly, ‘Of course I do, Poll.’ As they stopped outside her front door, he added softly, ‘You – you do know I love you, don’t you, Polly?’

  She reached up and planted a swift kiss on the end of his nose. ‘I hope you do, Mr Halliday, because I’ve loved you for years.’

  He hugged her to him and buried his face in her neck. ‘Oh, Polly, Polly . . .’

  At that moment a door banged across the street and they sprang apart, giggling like two naughty schoolchildren caught out making mischief.

  ‘I’d better go,’ Leo whispered, ‘before my sergeant hears I’ve been disturbing the peace.’

  ‘I’d better go in too – but I don’t want to.’

  ‘I know, I know, but you must.’ He kissed her cheek swiftly and then turned and sauntered down the street, his merry whistling echoing through the night air.

  As Polly let herself into the dark front room of the house, she was humming softly to herself. She was feeling her way carefully through to the kitchen, when she heard a noise from the direction of the sofa; a startled gasp and a rustling.

  ‘Who . . . ?’ She began and then felt suddenly afraid. Had someone broken into their house to steal what meagre possessions the family had?

  She scurried through the room towards the door leading into the kitchen, knocking her leg on a chair in her haste, and into the light. Rushing across the room, she picked up the poker and turned to face the intruder.

  Her mouth dropped open as Violet appeared, her face bright red, her hair wild and tangled and her clothes in disarray. At that moment, Polly heard the front door close.

  ‘What . . . ?’

  Still brandishing the poker, she pushed past her sister and flung open the front door. Glancing down the street, she saw a fleeing figure and heard running footsteps. There was no point in giving chase for whoever it was had a head start on her. She lowered her weapon and went back into the house, shutting and bolting the door.

  She returned the poker to its rightful place and then turned to face her sister. ‘What’s going on, Vi? Who was that?’

  ‘No one,’ the girl replied sullenly.

  Polly stood on the hearthrug with her hands on her hips. ‘Don’t lie. I’m not stupid. Was it some boy?’

  Violet’s head came up and her boldness returned. She fastened the buttons of her blouse and straightened her skirt. ‘That’s none of your business.’

  ‘It is my business if you’re up to no good.’

  Violet laughed, a hard, humourless sound. ‘Up to no good? Me? What about you and the wonderful Leo? I saw you outside the window, kissing and cuddling.’

  ‘And what were you doing in there then?’ Polly jabbed an angry finger towards the front room. ‘The same? All right, mebbe you were, but I want to know who with and why he has scuttled off as if he’s ashamed.’ She took a step towards Violet. ‘What’s he got to be ashamed of, I’d like to know?’

  ‘Polly, it’s nothing to do with you. I’m fifteen. I’ve got a good job and I give you money towards the housekeeping. But you’re not my mother. I’ll do what I like.’ She turned to flounce up the stairs, but Polly lunged forward and clutched her arm. ‘No, I’m not Mam, but what would she have said, if she’d still been here?’ She saw Violet falter and some of the belligerence in her face softened. Polly drove home her final weapon. ‘And what will Dad say?’

  The anger flashed again in Violet’s eyes and her mouth curled. ‘You’re nothing but a telltale, Polly Long-den. You think you know it all, don’t you, you and your holier-than-thou copper?’ Violet thrust her face close to Polly’s. ‘Well, you don’t know nothing. D’you really think the high and mighty Leo Halliday will marry you? He’ll not take us lot on and by the time Miriam’s old enough to look after ’ersen, you’ll be a dried-up old maid.’

  Twice, in a matter of days, Polly’d heard the same words, first from Eddie and now from her sister.

  Violet twisted herself free and pounded up the stairs.

  And as if to give truth to Violet’s statement, from the room above came Miriam’s plaintive wail as she was disturbed from her sleep.

  Twenty-Four

  Polly was still sitting by the dying fire when her father came in. She’d unbolted the door again so that he wouldn’t question the reason for it.

  ‘Still up, love?’ he said as he sat down heavily in the chair opposite her.

  ‘I – I thought you might want a cup of cocoa.’

  William stretched his arms above his head. ‘No, love, I’m fine. I’m away to my bed. And so should you be. You get up first every morning to get breakfast for all of us. You need your sleep as much as anyone.’

  Ever since her row with Violet, Polly had been sitting in the dim light wondering what she should do about her sister. Should she tell William about what had happened? But knowing he’d had a drink or two, she thought it would be best to leave it for a day or so. She didn’t want him flying into one of his rages; even a small amount of drink made William volatile. No, she’d leave it for now. Maybe she could find out a little more first.

  William stood up and yawned. ‘Eddie in, is he?’

  ‘I don’t think so, but I’ll leave the door on the latch. Night, Dad.’ She went into the scullery and listened to her father tiptoeing upstairs. At the same moment, she heard Eddie rattling the door as he came in.

  ‘Dad’s just got home,’ she whispered in warning. ‘Don’t make a noise.’ And as he stepped into the light, she added, ‘Had a good night?’

  She wanted to get Eddie on her side; he might know whom Violet was seeing.

  Eddie blinked. His elder sister wasn’t usually interested in his social life, unless it was to find fault. In fact, he got the distinct impression that she disapproved of almost everything he did.

  He shrugged. ‘Yeah.’ There was a pause and then he added suspiciously, ‘Why?’

  ‘Oh nothing. I – I just wondered if you ever saw Violet out with – with her friends?’

  Eddie frowned and peered closely at her. ‘What’s going on, Sis?

  Polly took a deep breath and decided to risk taking him into her confidence. ‘When I got home tonight, Violet was in the front room with someone. In the dark. I came in here and whoever it was scarpered. They frightened the life out of me. When I first came in, I thought we’d got burglars.’

  Eddie laughed softly. ‘Burglars? Us? Don’t be daft, Poll. What’ve we got that’d be worth pinching?’

  In the half-light, Polly smiled too. ‘That’s what I realized when I’d got over the shock.’

  ‘’Sides,’ Eddie went on. ‘Everyone round here knows you’re courting a copper. They wouldn’t dare.’

  There was a pause before Polly asked again, ‘So, do you ever see our Vi when she’s out? D’you know who her friends are? I mean, she never brings anyone home. Girls or – or boys.’ Though she was reluctant to admit it, Polly was forced to accept the fact that her little sister was growing up fast.

  Eddie shuffled his feet; something he always did when he was nervous or caught out doing something he shouldn’t.

  A warning note crept into Polly’s voice as she said, ‘Eddie?’

  ‘She’s seeing some lad, Poll. That’s all.’

  ‘Then why doesn’t she bring him home? Dad’s never stopped us bringing any of our friends home.’ Despite the seriousness of their conversation, she chuckled suddenly. ‘Not even Micky Fowler.’

  Silence.

  ‘So,’ she prompted, ‘why doesn’t she bring him in? Hasn’t she known him very long, is that it? Not ready to meet the whole family, yet she’ll skulk about in the front room wit
h him when she thinks no one else ’cept the young ones is at home.’

  ‘Oh, she’s known him a long time.’ Eddie bit his lip and then muttered. ‘I suppose you’ll get to know soon enough. He already comes here, Poll. Quite openly. It’s Micky Fowler.’

  Polly lay awake half the night beside Violet. The girl was sleeping soundly as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

  Perhaps she hasn’t, Polly thought grimly, but just you wait till morning, my girl, then you’ll see.

  The violent headache that Polly woke up with did nothing to help her temper. The moment Violet appeared, yawning and rubbing her eyes, Polly leapt on her and grasped her shoulders. William and Eddie had already left for work, so there were only Stevie and Miriam sitting at their breakfast to hear.

  ‘Was it Micky Fowler in this house last night?’

  ‘Wha . . . ?’ Violet began, but then, shocked into full wakefulness, she glared back at Polly. ‘What’s it got to do with you?’

  ‘It’s got everything to do with me – if you’re bringing God knows who into this house when Dad, me an’ Eddie are all out an’ only the little ones upstairs.’

  ‘They’re not that little now. Besides, you’re not the head of this house. Dad is.’

  Polly released her grip and stood back, her arms folded. She raised her eyebrows and said sarcastically, ‘No, I’m not the head of the house, but you’d all be in a fine mess if I upped sticks and walked out, now wouldn’t you?’

  Violet’s lips curled and she looked Polly up and down. Dressed in her workaday clothes, Polly looked a drab creature, she knew. She felt herself cringing under her younger sister’s critical eye. ‘Wouldn’t bother me,’ Violet said softly. ‘I’d manage.’

  ‘But you don’t care about the rest of the family, do you, Violet? You never have. It’s always been just about you, hasn’t it?’

  The girl shrugged, turned away, pulled out a chair and sat down at the breakfast table.

  ‘Well, if you’re waiting for me to get your breakfast this morning, you’ll be waiting a long time, miss.’

  Violet looked up, her eyes narrowing. ‘I go out to work and I bring money home. You get something from all of us for the housekeeping. It’s your job to look after all of us.’

  Polly, still standing with her arms folded, tapped her foot on the tiled floor; the floor she scrubbed every other day, keeping the house clean and tidy for the likes of this ungrateful chit sitting at the table expecting to be waited on hand and foot.

  ‘And you think I wouldn’t like to go out and get a job? Earn my own money instead of slaving away here for you lot. And a fat lot of thanks I get for it. I even have to ask everyone’s permission if I want to go out for an evening.’

  ‘Dad doesn’t mind you having Leo here. After all, he’s respectable, isn’t he?’

  Deceptively softly, Polly said, ‘Are you saying your boyfriend isn’t?’

  Violet’s head shot up. ‘Isn’t what?’

  ‘Isn’t welcome here – or isn’t respectable?’

  Now Violet hung her head.

  Polly – against her own will – felt herself softening. She sat down at the table. ‘Vi – is it Micky Fowler you’re seeing?’

  Slowly, Violet raised her eyes. ‘Who – who told you?’

  Polly took a deep breath. She didn’t like lying, but this time it seemed justified. She wanted Violet to trust her. Suddenly, she had a flash of inspiration. ‘When whoever it was here shot out last night, he ran down the street, not up. There’s no way out down there, only the river. And only the Fowlers and the Hallidays live down there who have boys of the right age. And I knew it wasn’t Leo, so I put two and two together and—’

  ‘How very clever of you.’ Now Violet lifted her head defiantly. ‘And what if it is Micky?’

  Polly decided to play into her sister’s hands deliberately. ‘Micky is Eddie’s mate. He’s often here. Why are you ashamed to bring him here openly as your friend?’

  ‘I’m not ashamed, but I know you don’t like him, that’s all.’

  No, I don’t, Polly wanted to say, but she bit back the words.

  ‘You don’t like him hanging round with our Eddie,’ Violet muttered sulkily, ‘so what chance have I got?’

  ‘Because I thought they were getting up to no good together, that’s why,’ Polly countered.

  There were other reasons too. Micky flirted with her, leered at her, and Polly hated it. She’d only ever had eyes for Leo. There was no one else she’d ever wanted – or would want.

  But now Micky was seeing Violet. Polly sighed and decided that it would be better for all the family if they knew what Violet was doing. She’d no choice now but to make Micky Fowler welcome in the Longden household. But before she did so, there was something she must warn her sister about.

  ‘A bit of kissing and cuddling with a lad is all right, Vi,’ she said seriously, ‘but promise me you’ll never let him go too far. You know what I mean, don’t you?’

  Violet flung back her hair and said petulantly, ‘Course I do.’

  ‘That’s all right then.’ Then Polly smiled. ‘Ask him to tea on Sunday. We’ll make him welcome, Vi, if that’s what you want.’

  ‘Really?’ Violet couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

  ‘Really. And now,’ Polly added, getting up, ‘you’d better get a move on if you’re not going to be late for work. Go and get ready and I’ll make your breakfast.’ As the younger girl rushed out of the room, Polly muttered, ‘As you’ve made it very clear that it’s my job.’

  Micky was not the only guest to Sunday afternoon tea. Although Leo was on duty, Roland had called round in the afternoon to chat with William and Polly felt duty bound to ask the kindly man to stay.

  So all the family, plus the two guests, sat down. There was an awkwardness at first, but Polly was determined to put everyone at their ease. She had nothing to fear now from Micky. She was walking out with Leo Halliday and the whole street – if not half the neighbourhood – knew it. Added to that, Micky was now seeing Violet and she would not stand for him making eyes at her older sister. So Polly felt much safer.

  As she passed round sandwiches and home-made cakes, poured tea and encouraged talk around the tea table, the atmosphere seemed to relax. She caught her father glancing at Micky sitting next to Violet. Across the table, he caught Polly’s eye and raised his eyebrows in a silent question. She smiled and gave a tiny nod, but she was not surprised when William frowned.

  Her father too, she knew, had doubts about Micky Fowler. But he said nothing and the tea party continued. As they all rose from the table, Roland touched Polly’s arm and said, ‘May I help with the washing up? I’m quite a dab hand.’ He pulled a face. ‘I’ve had to be.’

  She smiled kindly at him. ‘Then you must have a break from it tonight. Go and sit near the fire with Dad and have a chinwag.’ She laughed. ‘I think the youngsters have commandeered the front room for a noisy game of charades. Even Micky and Violet are joining in.’

  ‘But you never get a break from the housework, Polly, do you?’ Roland said softly.

  ‘Oh, now and again when Leo takes me out.’

  Roland’s face fell; she couldn’t fail to notice it. ‘Ah – you’re still walking out with Leo, are you? I – I wondered, as he wasn’t here tonight.’

  ‘He’s on duty.’ There was no mistaking the pride in her voice. ‘Two to ten today.’ She laughed, trying to lighten the atmosphere between them. ‘Someone’s got to stop the riots when they all come out of church.’

  Roland smiled and picked up a tea towel. ‘Let me help you. We’ll get it done all the quicker and then you can come and sit with us.’

  Polly smiled and nodded her agreement. Roland Spicer was such a nice man. It was so sad he’d never married and, now that he was tied to an invalid mother, perhaps he’d never get the chance.

  ‘How old are you, Roland?’ With a shock she realized she’d spoken her thoughts aloud. ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ she added swiftly. ‘That was rude o
f me.’

  Roland smiled and shrugged. ‘I don’t mind. I’m twenty-nine in September.’

  ‘Are you? You must have been very young to become a foreman when you did.’

  He laughed wryly. ‘I was. It caused a bit of bother at the time, but you see my dad had been foreman there for years and when he died suddenly – at work, as it happened – I think the boss felt the least he could do was to give me his position. Most folk were fine about it. They’d all liked my dad. Only a couple of the older blokes – Harry Barnes for one – felt they’d been overlooked. You know how it is.’

  She didn’t, but she could guess.

  The evening was pleasant enough, but quiet – dull, almost – and Polly craved Leo’s presence. She tried to be a good hostess, but she couldn’t help glancing furtively at the clock wondering if Leo would call when he came off duty.

  On the stroke of ten o’clock, Roland got up to leave. ‘I must see to Mother’s cocoa and help her to bed,’ he explained.

  ‘I’m sorry about yar mam,’ William said. He rose and held out his hand. ‘You’re welcome here any time, Roland. You were always good to our Poll when she worked at your place and you’ve been good to us all since. We don’t forget kindness, do we, Poll?’

  Polly, leading the way through the front room to the door, glanced back and smiled, but she did not add any further words to her father’s open invitation; she doubted Roland needed much encouragement to come again – and often.

  As she closed the door after him and returned to the warmth of the fire, William knocked out his pipe on the grate. ‘That young feller’s got an eye for you, our Poll.’

  ‘Oh, Dad, don’t.’

  William straightened up and looked round at her. ‘Whyever not, lass? He’d make a grand husband. He’s kind and caring and . . .’

  ‘Dad, I’m walking out with Leo. You know that.’

  ‘Aye, I do. But I’m wondering if you couldn’t do better for yarsen. Young Leo dun’t seem to be getting on with the job.’

  ‘Dad!’ Polly laughed. ‘What a thing to say.’

  ‘Well, you know what I mean. You’ve been walking out with him for what seems like years but has he made his intentions clear yet? Has he asked you to marry him or even to get engaged?’ When she didn’t answer he went on, ‘No, I thought not. Aw, lass, I know you’re fond of him, but—’