by Anna King
‘Why did you marry him, Grace? Why? You didn’t love him, you didn’t even want him in the house. It was me that did most of the nursing for him. You got out of it at every chance you got. Oh, you did your wifely duties, but it was under sufferance, and Stanley knew. He may have been ill, but he wasn’t blind or stupid. That’s why he killed himself, because he knew it was Nobby you wanted, not him, and I’ll never forgive you for that, Grace – never!’ Her slim body began to shake, but when Grace sat down beside her, Polly pulled away violently.
‘How many times did you tell him you loved him, Grace? I mean since he first came home. How many times did you sit with him and say, “I love you, Stan”? Well, Grace, I’m waiting. How many times? Once, twice – never… Oh, get away from me, Grace, just get away.’
But Grace was going nowhere. Sitting as far away from the shaking body as possible Grace began to talk. She didn’t expect any answer, but she talked anyway.
‘At least we still have something in common, Poll, because I blame myself for what Stanley did too,’ she said quietly, staring over at the far wall. ‘There’s not a day goes by when I don’t think of him, and how he must have suffered over the past years, and then the guilt comes over me, almost crushing the very breath from my body. You asked why I married him. Well, you were there when he suggested it, so you know I tried to put him off, but he was so persistent, what else could I do but say yes? Would it have been better if I’d said, “Sorry Stanley, but I don’t love you any more, and I’ve no intention of marrying you”? What effect do you think that would have had on him? And where would he have gone, who would have looked after him—’
Polly, springing round on the bed, her face contorted with anguish, shouted, ‘I would! I would have looked after him. I loved him, Grace. Do you hear me? I loved Stanley. I think I always did, but he would never have looked at me while you were around. Yet I could have made him happy, even if it would have been only for a short time.’
‘Oh, Poll, why didn’t you tell me? If you knew I didn’t love him any more, why didn’t you say something?’ Grace looked with pity into the blotchy face.
Wiping her eyes, Polly’s body sagged as if all the fight had gone out of her.
‘What would have been the point, Grace? You were always the only one for him, I never stood a chance.’ Getting to her feet, she mumbled, ‘Well, you’re free now, Grace. Free to marry Nobby, because that’s what you want to do, isn’t it? I’m just surprised you haven’t already made plans.’
Now it was Grace’s turn to be angry.
‘That’s not only unfair, it’s also utterly uncalled for. I haven’t been alone with Nobby since the funeral. I told him then that there was no future for us, that I could never marry him now, not after Stanley had killed himself because he knew about us. I don’t know if that was the reason, but I’ll never know now, will I? But, yes, there’s nothing in the world I’d like better than to marry Nobby, because I love him, Poll, just as you loved Stanley. I didn’t mean to fall for him, but it happened, just the way it happened with you and Stanley. Stan may have thought he was doing me a favour by taking his own life, but in a way he took mine with his.’
More composed now, Polly asked, ‘What about Nobby? What does he have to say about it?’
Grace looked down at her hands, her fingers pulling and stretching at the lace handkerchief she held.
‘He wouldn’t accept it at first. If you remember he was round almost every night after the funeral, but I never stayed long in the room with him. I left him with Nan, and she’s another one who keeps on at me. To marry Nobby, I mean. I tried to explain how I felt to her, but you know Nan…’ She lifted her shoulders in a resigned shrug. ‘Anyway, if you hadn’t been so preoccupied with getting into the training college, you’d have noticed he hasn’t been around for some time now. Hopefully he’s finally realised I meant what I said and won’t pester me any more.’
‘And is that what you want, Grace? Not to see Nobby again, not ever?’ Polly had now moved over to the window, keeping a wide distance between them.
Outside in the street, a car horn hooted.
Polly walked towards her suitcases, saying, ‘You haven’t answered my question, Grace.’
Polly’s eyes told Grace that she didn’t fully believe her about the affair with Nobby being over and done with. And how would Polly react if Grace was to tell her of the abuse, both verbal and physical, she had suffered from Stanley? Grace quickly dismissed the idea of revealing the secrets of her short married life. For one, Polly would never believe Stanley capable of such cruelty, and secondly, if Grace did tell her, then the animosity between them would be stretched even further, maybe beyond repair.
Getting up and walking to the door, Grace replied dully, ‘No, it’s not what I want, as well you know, Polly. But then we can’t always have what we want in this life.’ Then, without a backward glance she proceeded down the stairs to open the door to a smiling Vi and Chris.
It had been nearly two months since the couple’s last visit and Grace couldn’t help but gasp in amazement at the change in Vi. Her face now bore only slight traces of the injuries she had received in the blast. But it was more than that. There was something about Vi that Grace couldn’t put her finger on. She seemed almost agitated with excitement.
‘Hello, Grace. Is her ladyship ready?’
Behind them a voice called out, ‘Yes, her ladyship is ready. We’re just waiting for Nan to come back. She’s gone for a walk round the shops. Said she was going mad looking at the four walls.’
As if the words had conjured her up, Aggie appeared around the corner, her face wreathed with smiles.
Taking hold of Vi, she scrutinised her granddaughter’s face with such intensity that Vi became embarrassed.
‘Gawd Almighty!’ she exclaimed in wonderment. ‘Yer can hardly see the scars any more.’ Turning to Chris she laughed, ‘’Ere, I don’t suppose yer old man could do some work on me. I could do with a few years taken off me face.’
Chris grinned at her in merriment.
‘Sorry, Aggie. My father doesn’t do cosmetic surgery, he doesn’t hold with it. He reserves his talents for those who really need them.’
Suddenly Polly looked at her watch and exclaimed, ‘Lord! Look at the time. We’d better get a move on. I don’t want to be late on my first day. I’ve heard the Matron’s a right old dragon.’
With much laughing and joking, Vi, Chris and Polly piled into the car, and when Aggie asked hopefully, ‘I don’t suppose there’s room for another one in there, is there? I’d like ter see Polly settled in, and the sort of room she’ll be living in,’ she was already halfway in the back of the car beside Polly.
‘We’ll see you when we bring Nan back home, Grace. Bye for now. See you in a while.’
Grace stood waving until the car disappeared. It wasn’t until she closed the door that she realised that Polly hadn’t even said goodbye.
A lump rose in her throat, then, with fierce determination she said to the empty house, ‘Well, sod her, then. I’m not going to cry any more. I’m done with crying. Do you hear me, Paddy’s Castle? You’ll hear no more tears from me. I’m going to get on with my life. I’m going to…’ Her hand flew to her mouth as the lump grew bigger. Her eyes flickered around the empty hall, then with a determined thrust of her chin, she said, ‘Right then, seeing as there’s no call on my time, I think I’ll go to the pictures. If I’m going to get on with my life, then that’s as good enough place to start.’
* * *
She’d been back only ten minutes when the family returned, and over a hastily prepared tea Grace told them where she’d been.
‘An’ about time too, girl. Yer used ter love the pictures. What d’yer see?’
Grace smiled as she answered. ‘White Christmas.’
Vi echoed, ‘White Christmas? They’re showing that a bit early, aren’t they? We’re only at the start of December. They showed it about this time last year, didn’t they, Nan? I suppose it’s to get p
eople in the mood for the festivities. But since you’ve brought the subject up, there’s something Chris and I would like to ask you.’ She looked at Chris and took hold of his hand as if for support. ‘We’d like you all to come and stay with us for Christmas. Uncle Danny and Patrick as well, of course,’ she ended on a nervous laugh.
Aggie’s face fell.
‘Oh, I don’t know, love. I’ve never spent Christmas away from home. It wouldn’t be the same somehow. Christmas is for families. And what about Polly? It’d be a bit of a trek fer her to get up ter the middle of Essex from Bart’s, that’s if she can get the time off, with her just starting an’ all.’ She shook her greying head. ‘Nah, sorry, love, but I’d prefer ter stay by me own fireside at Christmas. But thanks fer the offer, it was good of yer both.’
Again Vi and Chris exchanged meaningful looks, and when Chris smiled and nodded, Vi, her face turning pink said shyly, ‘What, not even to celebrate your granddaughter’s engagement party?’
The room fell eerily silent, then they were all talking and laughing at once.
‘Oh, Vi, I’m so pleased for you. You’ve got a good one there. Get him up to the altar before he has time to change his mind.’ Even Aggie, caught up in the excitement, forgot her reservations about spending Christmas away from home and accepted the invitation happily.
‘Bleeding hell! This calls for a drink ter celebrate. Get the brandy out, Grace.’
‘We haven’t got any, Nan. Remember, you finished the last drop a week ago.’
A look of acute disappointment came over Aggie’s face. Since Nobby had stopped coming around, her drink supply had dried up considerably. What with the rationing still in force, even though the war had been over for two and a half years, spirits and many other goods were still hard to come by, unless you knew the right people.
Grace, seeing the look of disappointment on her nan’s face and afraid that the lack of Aggie’s favourite tipple would lead to Nobby’s name being brought into the conversation, said quickly, ‘Look, I’ll pop down to the pub and see what I can get.’
It was with considerable relief that Grace managed to get hold of a bottle of wine. She’d had to pay over the odds for it – but so what! This was a celebration. Vi was getting married and they were going to spend Christmas in a posh house in the country. What more could anyone ask for? she thought in silence as they all lifted a glass to Vi and Chris. Yet though her face was smiling, inside Grace felt desolate, and she didn’t have to ask herself why.
In a strong, firm voice she raised her glass high and said, ‘Cheers. And the best of luck to both of you.’
* * *
‘Bleeding hell! How much further is it? I’m near frozen,’ Aggie complained from the back seat of Chris’s Bentley, squashed between Danny and an excited Patrick while Grace sat in comfort at the front.
‘Not long, now, Aggie. Just a few more minutes,’ Chris reassured the grumbling woman. As good as his word, within three minutes they were driving through the gates of the hospital, and then round to the side to a house of equal proportion. Both buildings were lit up with fairy lights and boasted a huge Christmas tree outside.
Patrick, his face squashed against the window, breathed, ‘Cor, look at that, Dad. Isn’t it lovely? Like the pictures in my fairytale books.’
Danny, his face as bright and excited as the small boy’s, replied, ‘You’re right, there, Patrick. That’s just what it does look like.’
As they emerged from the car, Chris and Danny took down the suitcases from the roofrack, and as they did so, Grace stared at her uncle, marvelling at the sudden changes in character he could display. Only two days ago he had received a letter from Beryl, begging for some money so that she could come back home.
Aggie and Grace had watched with inquisitive eyes as Danny read the letter, all the while trying to disguise their curiosity. They knew the correspondence was from Beryl because of the stamp. Both of them had held their breath, praying that whatever Beryl wanted, Danny wouldn’t fall for her old tricks again. Even so, when he crumpled the letter up and threw it into the bin without a word, they had been amazed at his indifference. As soon as he had left to open the shop, the women had eyed the bin with hungry eyes, dying to know what the letter contained. Finally Aggie could contain her curiosity no longer. Picking out the crumpled letter she smoothed it out and began to read, ignoring Grace’s half-hearted protest that they shouldn’t be reading Danny’s mail, which was a laugh, seeing as she was herself peering over Aggie’s shoulder at the time. Beryl hadn’t gone into any detail as to why she wanted to return, but it hadn’t taken a genius to work out that her American general had either thrown her out or died. And when the two women finished reading the rambling letter, they looked at each other and said simultaneously, ‘Good for him.’
Stamping her feet against the cold, Grace heard her name being called, and there was Vi, standing in the lighted doorway, wearing a royal blue dress, looking marvellous.
Slipping and sliding on the icy ground, Grace and Chris helped Aggie into the house and straight into a large room with a blazing fire, with two enormous armchairs set either side of the hearth.
‘I’m afraid my father’s been held up at the hospital,’ Chris explained ‘But he promised he’d be over as soon as he can get away.’
Aggie, by now snuggled comfortably in one of the armchairs, her coat taken my a maid wearing a black dress with a white pinafore and a starched white frilled hat, looked around her in awe.
‘Gawd help us! Yer never said yer was rich, Chris. I mean, I gathered yer weren’t short of a few bob, but I never thought yer was this well off.’
Coming to stand beside Chris, Vi slipped her arm through his and grinned mischievously.
‘I don’t blame him for keeping it quiet, not the way I was when we first met. I’d have probably dragged him up the aisle before he knew what had hit him. Though I’m not complaining, I’ve always known I could adapt to the life of the rich very easily.’
Watching the couple together, obviously so much in love, Grace felt a pang of jealousy. Then she looked at Vi more closely and remembered all that her sister had been through. Under the bright lights, the evidence of Vi’s scarring was still visible, and she had been told that her face now was as good as it was going to get. Yet in spite of that, she looked radiant. The beauty that had always been reflected on the outside was now glowing from the inside too. Vi would never again be as beautiful as she had once been, but she no longer cared. She had found something more important than outward appearances.
Detaching herself from Chris’s side, Vi said to Grace and Aggie, ‘Would you like to see your rooms?’
Aggie shivered. ‘Not me, love. At least not until me old bones are a bit warmer.’
As they climbed the stairs, Vi said, ‘Oh, by the way, Polly’s coming over tomorrow. Just for the day. Chris is picking her up then driving her back after tea. So at least we’ll all be together for Christmas dinner. Then we can have our own private engagement party before Polly has to leave.’
Grace kept her eyes averted as she replied, ‘Oh, that’s good news. Nan’ll be pleased… And of course I am too,’ she added hastily.
Vi had no idea of the acrimony that now existed between her sisters, and Grace wasn’t about to tell her. She didn’t want anything to spoil the Christmas festivities, and maybe, after being apart for the last few weeks, and having time to think over what Grace had said, just maybe, Polly would have come round, and they could be friends once more. Oh, she hoped so. There had never been a cross word between them in all their lives, and Polly, although she had changed in many ways, was still possessed of a kind and forgiving nature. That much Grace was sure of.
Laying her small suitcase on the floor, Grace said, ‘It’s a lovely room, Vi. Will Nan be sharing with me?’
Vi nodded. ‘I’m afraid so. It may be a large house, but there’s only five bedrooms, and the maid sleeps in one of those.’ Leaning against Grace’s side she added slyly, ‘The smallest one, o
f course.’
Grace grinned back. ‘Oh, but of course. We can’t have the servants getting above themselves, can we?’
Giggling like a couple of schoolgirls they re-entered the lounge to find a distinguished man, with white hair and a pair of half-moon glasses perched on the end of his nose, seated opposite Aggie, chatting away as if they’d known each other for years. But then, Aggie had always been able to make conversation easily.
After supper, they all rose and headed back to the lounge. Patrick was already tucked up in his room with his stocking hanging at the foot of his bed. Danny watched as the small boy tried valiantly to keep his eyes open, hoping to catch a glimpse of Father Christmas, but the effort was too much for him after the long exciting day. As soon as he was sure Patrick was fast asleep, Danny laid back on the other single bed, his mind going back to the letter he had received from Beryl.
He had been totally surprised at the indifference the begging letter had aroused in him. The old Danny would have sent her the money she requested immediately, but not now. He would never possess the character of old Paddy Donnelly or Sam, but he was trying, and one thing he was resolute on was that no one would ever take him for a mug again. He’d learnt his lesson, he wouldn’t be so easily caught again. Then he thought of the women who came into the shop asking for tick when Grace wasn’t around and smiled to himself. All right, so he hadn’t changed that much, and probably never would. The only thing he wanted out of life now was his son, and Patrick was his son, in every way that mattered.
Danny had told the boy his mother had died during the war, and the young boy had solemnly accepted the lie without question. Looking at his watch he saw it was nearly ten thirty. He really must get back downstairs, or his hosts would think him very rude. And that was the last thought he had until the early hours of the morning when he awoke with a start and hastily filled Patrick’s stocking with the presents he had hidden in the extra suitcase he had brought with him. Relieved beyond measure he had woken up in time, Danny quickly slipped into his pyjamas and immediately fell fast asleep.
